Sometimes there is conversation and a general feeling of camaraderie in the men’s changing room at the Castle centre following a swimming session. On Monday, having done my 500 meters, I sat, pausing before the business of getting dressed and reassembled.

“How was that?” One of my fellow swimmers asked. We went on to discuss the benefits of swimming. He then suggested I take up yoga. I told him that I had – ‘chair yoga’.

“Say that again,” a younger man asked and I repeated,  ‘chair yoga.’

“How do you spell that?” And I spelt it. The young man laughed and said that he had thought I was referring to some particular Eastern variety of yoga. I said that the yoga I did involved me sitting on, beside, or behind a chair and that it was probably my New Zealand accent that misled him.

A general discussion followed about countries of origin and yoga. Among our number were men from Nigeria, Romania, Eritrea, Japan, Martinique and Sierra Leone; and some white Brits as well. We were all Londoners living near Elephant and Castle.

The conversation went on to problems of backs, knees and symptoms of unknown cause. We touched on the efficiency or not of Southwark Council. There was a brief comment about the American political situation and by the time I left it had moved on to football.

I wonder if the same thing happens in the women’s changing room or in most changing rooms.

Today is the first day of Lent for most Western Christians. Lent is that time of prayer, fasting and alms giving which precedes Holy Week and Easter. In my childhood it was quite usual to ask or be asked, “What are you giving up for Lent?” It was often chocolates, or sweets. We had Lent boxes to put some of our pocket money in each week. That was our alms giving. I can’t remember what we did for prayer.

In adulthood I remember once visiting my mother and, mistakenly, picking up her glass of gin and tonic instead of mine (it was after six) and taking a sip. It was only tonic, no gin at all. When I commented on this she said, “Of course not, it’s Lent!” She did not publicise her Lenten fast.

Recently I’ve become aware of how general fasting is in the world’s religions not only in Judaism and Islam but also in Buddhism and Hinduism. I shouldn’t be surprised. While so much attention is focused on the differences and divisions in our world there is a great deal that we have in common.

And perhaps we are being joined in out Lenten fast by a multitude of our secular friends who are on a diet to lose weight. I was frequently reminded at theological college that you must not separate mind body and spirit. We may end up this Easter fitter on every front.

I have always known that people of different countries and different groups eat different foods. I have known too that people eat with different instruments, knife and fork, chopsticks, fingers, and spoon and fork. And even within those categories there are subtle differences in the instruments and in the various ways of holding or using them.

It is only on this visit to Thailand that I have realised the importance of something much more basic. Western food and the manner of eating it is designed to be individual. Asian food is designed to be eaten communally. It is possible to have a meal of noodle soup or a rice dish here on one’s own. I do it frequently and enjoy it. However to really appreciate Thai food there needs to be at least four people, five or six different dishes, everything arriving whenever the food is ready and it is shared.

Certainly in restaurants serving western food having different courses in a particular order each dish for a particular person is still the norm though sharing food has become more common. I remember going to my favourite restaurant above all others, St John in London’s Smithfield where it is the custom to share – if it suits you. I was with a group of friends and said, as we were looking at the menu, “We usually share.” One of the group replied, “Actually I don’t.” And fair enough too though that would simply not work in a Thai restaurant here.

Today I have seen cormorants, gulls and herons at remarkably close quarters. Even closer were three crocodiles, one of them swimming, one which didn’t move, and a third which was sunning itself on a branch. It looked at me and then, quite deliberately, slowly turned around to have its back to me. But the most surprising sight on my gentle tour by boat of Sri Lanka’s Negombo Lagoon was that of one of the monkeys that came on board to eat the bananas offered by the boatman. This monkey ignored the bananas offered, deftly unscrewed the top of a bottle of water which was on a ledge at the bow, deliberately knocked over the bottle and drank the water as it poured out. Somewhere I thought I could hear Charles Darwin say, “I told you so.”

On arriving in Colombo from Bangkok I noticed at once the sound of car horns. It is a sound you very rarely hear in Thailand. There it is a sound of impatience and impatience is not polite.

Politeness is the highest virtue in Thailand. Manners matter. This can be a minefield for the visitor. Years ago I introduced an English friend to a Buddhist monk. I had explained to my friend the protocols, keep your head below that of the monk and do not touch him.

I introduced my friend. The monk was standing on the step of his cell so head height was not a problem. My friend put out his hand to shake hands and said, “How do you do.” I cringed inwardly. The monk took the fingers of the outstretched hand and gingerly  lifted the hand up and down.

Later I apologised to the monk, on my friend’s behalf, for his breach of good manners. “No Khun Simon,” he told me. “There is no need to apologise. His heart was good.” The intention, ‘the heart’ made all the difference.

Last week after a Buddhist ceremony performed by five monks the senior monk, who I had met before, took my hand and held it in both of his for a moment. He broke his custom to endorse mine. His heart was surely good.

P.S. Now I am old I have been told that, when using Thai, I may no longer, in polite friendliness, call a young waiter or waitress ‘nong’ which means ‘little brother’ or ‘little sister.’ That is if I get the tone right. If I get it wrong it means ‘infection.’ I may continue to use ‘nong’ for anyone of middle age or at least nearer my age. For the young I must use ‘nou.’ I don’t know what it means but it is the appropriate, polite, friendly form. In a different context, same tone ‘nou’ means ‘rat.’ Context is key yet again.