Been back from Thailand a little over a week and still haven’t recovered. The holiday was great. Getting home requires counselling.

For those following the condo saga from my previous post, we arrived to discover the builder hadn’t finished. Now I am not naive, I know there is “builders time” and “Thai” time so coming fact to face with “Thai Builders time” was not a surprise. The new completion date is 30 November just in time for Christmas with no flights available – great choice! Based on experience, I’m confidently predicting a February finish. Just not sure which year.

Then came the flight home, which somehow made the flight over look like pure bliss.

We couldn’t get business class and had to fly via Sydney. A double whammy before we’d even left the ground.

About five hours in, a passenger suffered a heart attack. Thankfully, the cabin crew and two passengers who were nurses managed to stabilise him. A frightening experience for everyone involved, and I hope he’s recovering well.

We diverted to Jakarta, where it took about an hour to get the poor fellow off the plane, followed by a couple of hours sorting out whether we’d continue, and refuelling and resupplying. By then I was wondering whether our condo might be finished before we got home.

Eventually we headed off again, arriving in Sydney hours late and missing our connecting flight.

But Sydney Airport still had a little farewell gift for us.

We landed near the domestic terminal, which was exactly where we wanted to be. Unfortunately, we first had to get to the international terminal and clear customs. With only two runways operating and planes landing about every 90 seconds, we joined a queue of aircraft waiting to cross.

Forty minutes sitting there, looking at the general direction we needed to go. So close, yet so Sydney.

Eventually, 24 hours into what should have been a nine-hour flight, we arrived home. Even our luggage needed a lie-down.

And after that much time sharing cabin air, we apparently brought home everyone else’s bugs as souvenirs. Coughs, sniffles and penicillin now abound. We’d planned to bring back happy memories, but seem to have collected the entire plane’s medical history as well.

Despite all that, we had a wonderful time in Thailand. I took loads of photos for a couple of books I’m planning, while Maree went on a wildlife safari: patting tigers, bottle-feeding a three-month-old lion cub that was already massive and ridiculously powerful, riding an elephant and patting capybaras.

Between the two of us, we came home with some wonderful memories, plenty of photos and a deeply personal grievance against air travel.

Great trip. Sh#t flights.

Next time I might ask the builder to organise our return journey. We’d never leave Thailand.

In the next little while I will collate the photos and share some of the really “cool stuff” like battlefield memorials, prehistoric sights, statues showing Thai military uniforms etc.

Thanks again to Open AI for help with the “toon”.

Stay safe and remember never, I repeat never, never, never, – got that – travel with us!

Another batch of casualty figures has joined my Dracula’s America collection, the second of four lots intended to make the aftermath of our various gunfights, supernatural encounters and general disagreements look suitably unpleasant. The first batch proved that a few bodies scattered around the table add considerably to the atmosphere, so naturally the obvious response was to paint some more.

I much prefer replacing a casualty with a proper fallen figure rather than simply removing the miniature from the table. As a game progresses, the casualties begin to tell their own story. A body beside a building suggests somebody did not quite make it to cover, while another lying in the middle of the street is fairly convincing evidence that charging directly towards several armed opponents was perhaps not the finest tactical decision of the day.

Once again I have added my very sophisticated blood effects, which consist of pools cut from red cardboard. They cost virtually nothing, take only minutes to make and, once slipped beneath a casualty figure, provide exactly the suitably gruesome effect I wanted. There are undoubtedly far more elaborate ways of producing blood effects, but these work perfectly well for me and can be moved around the table as required.

Casualty figures also have the advantage of recording how the battle has developed. By the end of a particularly bloody encounter the tabletop itself becomes a visual record of where the serious fighting occurred. A cluster of bodies and blood pools around a doorway, barricade or objective tells you rather more about what happened there than an empty piece of scenery ever could.

Of course, there remains one small complication. This is Dracula’s America, where being shot, stabbed, mauled or otherwise rendered inconveniently deceased does not necessarily constitute a permanent career setback. With necromancers, zombies and assorted supernatural unpleasantness wandering around, a body lying quietly on the ground should never be regarded with complete confidence.

Still, this second batch appears to be behaving itself.

So far.

The two lots of causalities so far on their movement/storage tray.

The first of four lots of casualty figures for my Dracula’s America collection has now been completed. With all the supernatural creatures, resurrected Confederates, zombies, witches, cultists and assorted things that really should have remained buried, I realised that I was actually rather short of something much more mundane. Ordinary dead people.

These figures are intended primarily as casualty markers, allowing me to replace a fallen model with something a little more atmospheric than simply laying the original miniature on its side. It is a small detail, but one that I think adds considerably to the appearance of the tabletop. A gunfight looks much more convincing when the unfortunate participants remain where they fell rather than mysteriously disappearing the moment somebody fails a save.

For a little more atmosphere I have also added blood pools, simply cut from pieces of red cardboard and placed beneath or around the casualty figures. There is nothing particularly sophisticated about them, but combined with the fallen figures they certainly make the aftermath of a gunfight look considerably more unpleasant.

Sometimes the simplest bits of scenery are the most effective, and a few pools of blood scattered along a dusty street leave little doubt that negotiations have not gone particularly well.

This is the first of four batches that I am painting, giving me enough casualties to scatter around the battlefield as the fighting develops. They will also be useful as scenario markers, victims of previous encounters, unfortunate townsfolk, evidence of some particularly unpleasant supernatural activity, or simply as a warning that perhaps walking down that particular street is not such a good idea.

Of course, this being Dracula’s America, describing them as dead may be slightly premature. In most games a casualty figure marks the end of a character’s involvement in proceedings. Around here it might merely indicate that he is having a short rest before somebody with questionable morals and a working knowledge of the Dark Arts decides that his services are still required.

I have also glued a MiniBits 8 mm dice frame to each base, giving the casualty figures another potential use. If I want to use one as a unit casualty marker in another game, I can simply place a die in the frame and use it to keep track of the number of casualties suffered. It makes the figures rather more versatile than simple battlefield decoration and, more importantly, gives me another excuse for having painted so many dead people. I have an assortment of different dice to record status quality units etc as required.

For the moment, however, these unfortunate souls are staying exactly where they fell.

The dead have not yet arisen.

At least not yet!