In addition to those welcome cool November breezes, an annual reminder that the year is drawing to a close is the Ploenchit Fair, which takes place next Saturday at Bangkok Patana School on Sukhumvit Soi 105.
Organised by the British Community of Thailand Foundation for the Needy, it has been 15 years now since the fair moved from its original home at the British embassy. The location may have changed but the spirit certainly hasn't. Those beers, assisted by the odd glass of wine, slide down particularly well when you know it's for charity.
I recall getting badly caught out when the fair moved its location in 2001 to Sanam Suapa. All the previous fairs at the embassy had to be wrapped up by 5.30pm, when you were unceremoniously booted out by the respected Gurkha guards, so you adjusted your intake of the amber liquid with that in mind.
But at the new location the fair continued well into the evening. Consequently, what began as a couple of quiet afternoon drinks unintentionally extended into a not-so-quiet slurping session until well after dark, with repercussions the following morning involving a scramble for the aspirins.
Just like Mr Kite
The Ploenchit Fair is a far cry from the travelling fairs I sneaked along to as a teenager in a meadow next to the River Thames in my hometown of Reading. The fairs were quite popular as our town was not exactly spilling over with night entertainment.
The jangle of traditional fairground music, mixed with the latest 1960s pop songs, made the fairs deceptively exciting. It created an atmosphere similar to the steam organ sounds you hear on the Beatles song, Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite! Alas, there was no sign of John Lennon's "Henry the horse dancing the waltz".
My parents didn't approve of their son going to the fair as they thought it was seedy and attracted weird people. They were absolutely right, but it was the undesirables that made it interesting. All my mates went too and I would have been a social outcast at school if I hadn't joined them at the fair.
Prize goldfish
My favourite sideshow was the coconut shy. But even if you hit the coconuts they rarely fell from their perch and I suspect an early version of superglue may have been involved.
The prizes were real junk, mainly cheap plaster dogs and other animals that would start falling apart even before you got them home. Occasionally you would see a happy punter carrying the ultimate prize, a goldfish in a plastic bag.
It was also the only time I got to eat candyfloss and toffee apples, which you might even find at the Ploenchit Fair, which also boasts a coconut shy. I have been assured there will be no surreptitious gluing of the coconuts.
Tattooed lady
One of the main attractions at those old fairs was the tattooed lady. This is a real indication of how times have changed because these days women displaying tattoos are unfortunately a common sight. But back in the sixties, tattoos were still regarded as rather weird, restricted to sailors, eccentrics, convicts and lunatics.
I think I paid sixpence to have a quick gawk at a rather plump middle-aged lady wearing bright red lipstick and covered from head to foot in tattoos. She frankly looked quite hideous and a bit scary, and I had nightmares for the rest of the week.
I suspect the unforgettable sight of that tattooed lady was responsible for my aversion to "skin art" or "permanent make-up" as it is sometimes called.
Everybody has their own opinion on tattoos and it is really a matter of personal taste. One publication not impressed by them is the Daily Mail, which a few years ago described them as "the most tasteless, tacky, tawdry, terrible plague to infect Britain since mad cow disease".
Mad cow disease, officially known as bovine spongiform encephalopathy, led to 4.4 million cattle being slaughtered in Britain between 1986 and 1998.
Skin deep
Despite the negative connotations, over the years many famous people have sported tattoos and they are particularly popular among celebrities.
Actress Angelina Jolie has an estimated 20 tattoos, including a couple acquired from her Thailand visits, a large tiger on her back and a Buddhist incantation in Khmer script.
It might surprise some that the most famous politician to wear a tattoo was Sir Winston Churchill, who had a small anchor inked on his arm.
However, considering his background as First Lord of the Admiralty, he was just keeping up naval tradition. Or maybe he was just following in his mother's footsteps, as Lady Randolph Churchill sported a snake on her right wrist.
America's 32nd president, Theodore Roosevelt had his family crest tattooed on his chest, but it was seldom seen. For the record, president-elect Donald Trump is not a fan of tattoos.
Meet the vicar
An activity my parents did approve of were assorted garden fetes held in England during the summer, quite often at country churches.
If you were lucky, you even got to meet the vicar. It was quite idyllic if the sun stayed out, but the fickle British weather often played a role and we invariably ended up huddling under a tent as the rain lashed down, standing in the mud, clutching soggy cucumber sandwiches and sorry-looking cream cakes. It also tended to be incredibly boring as everyone was so well behaved.
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