I’m a planner. Before our holiday to Thailand, I checked the flights and our passport expiry dates. I looked up the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade to see their advice as to safety and customs. We were vaccinated within an inch of our lives and listened earnestly to dire prognostications of the kinds of illnesses that could befall us if we ate anything that wasn’t boiled in front of us. I don’t like any nasty surprises… but I’m human… female, in fact… so guess what I forgot.

No problem, of course; I’ll just go to a Chemist. I’m a mature adult and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The sign even said, “English speaking chemist.” Great.

My question regarding feminine hygiene products was met with a polite, benevolent but puzzled face. Obviously the chemist speaks some English but not this particular phrase. I speak no Thai. OK, she’s a woman. Great. I try to explain about sanitary napkins: “You know, you put them on your underpants.” No luck. I consider any sort of gesture or diagram which might describe tampons but remembered that it’s very important to be polite in Thailand.  A very rare thing happened: words deserted me. So I smile and look around the shelves, looking increasingly like someone who should be returned to the asylum from whence I had obviously escaped.

“This not medicine?” The chemist broke the silence, for which I was immensely grateful. Clearly chemists in Thailand only sell medically relevant products, which, in retrospect, is perfectly sensible. “No, not medicine,” I managed, backing slowly out the door, nodding and smiling, hoping that no closed circuit television would be capturing how supercilious I looked for later display on TV or the web.

Thankfully, in the main street was a cluttered shop with bulk washing power and toilet paper… aha! All the things that are now crammed into our Chemist shops at home but at twice the price of a supermarket. There I found tampons and, so relieved was I, that I purchased enough to last until menopause. The “super” napkins that were apparently 20% longer than normal were so short I need to put two together lengthwise. At least I didn’t have to wrap toilet paper in papyrus and secure with a length of string.

Please, don’t let this put you off at all. Chiang Mai is fabulous as I’ll relate elsewhere.