Buffalo Racing in Thailand you must see.

In the back country of Chonburi Thailand, villagers come together with their land-working buffalos and compete in a crazy type of drag race to see which is the fastest. The stakes are high; the buffalo are not like horses, the riders, hang atop these 2 ton beasts by the nape of their necks for dear life, as there is no way to control, or stop, the animals once they start to run. The only way they stop is by running the entire course into a large body of water, and the riders hope against all odds that the animals don’ t crash into each other, or buck them off, which happens often.

It’s extremely dangerous but a great source of fun and pride for the locals, who love to bet on the beasts, and hold huge competitions with food and drink rounding out the experience. If you get the chance to see one of these amazing events you definitely should, they are riveting. Filmed by our very own Roberto Serrini (@serrini) while on location for a film … more of his drone films are at http://www.nycdroner.com

Stay tuned for a NEW VID EACH DAY as we travel round the world to find the weirdest-wildest-best-nicest-goodest-sweetest-dopest stuff for you to get inspired by and get your a$$ off the couch.

Much love, the TC.
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Drone: DJI Mavic https://goo.gl/jLa257
Camera: Sony A7rIII https://goo.gl/ijE1vZ
B Cam: Sony a6300 https://goo.gl/cs7AJm
Art Lens: 25mm CCTV f1.4 https://goo.gl/EgZShq
360 Camera: Samsung Gear 360 https://goo.gl/1jsfn8
Mic: Zoom H6 https://goo.gl/Gani8E
Lavs: Sony UWPD16 https://goo.gl/LXpHyg
Tripod: Manfrotto 390 https://goo.gl/6PzxBv

Thailand from above.

I fly drones. It’s something I love doing, and as a filmmaker I find that they are fantastic tools for storytelling. My particular temptation is probably using them in ways they were not intended to be used, mainly flying through things like doors, windows, and tree branches. I like the way it makes a shot look like something taken by hand, and then magically start floating above, and drone companies like the way it makes me total my aircraft and have to buy a new one. Basically a win-win situation all around.

Sometimes though I am successful and the results can be beautiful. So I took a moment to compile some of the aerial footage I shot for a film called “Buffalo Rider” which was shot in Chonburi, Thailand, and directed by the fantastic Joel Soisson.

If you want to explore more of my aerial films hop on over to my site nycdroner.com and if you want to hear about the amazing adventure we had shooting in the backcountry of Thailand, then click this link here. 

Happy travels!




Riding Through Death.

A while back I had the chance to go experience Death Valley in a very special way: top a two wheeled beast who just devours desert.

With the adventurous crew from Honda who brought the badass bikes, along with my goto for all things cool, Tracy Motts from Rev’It motorcycle gear, we were completely covered in the way of motorcycle mayhem. Or destination was Beatty (pronounced either beat-ee or bait-ee dee-pending on who you talk to and how much they have had to drink) which isn’t so much a destination as a town as is a place that aliens forgot to obliterate on their strike on the U.S. in 1958 (something locals actually believe.)

The town is a wonderful place if you like weird, strange and that slight feeling that you are surrounded by people evading John Q. Law. We opted for the Motel 6, which was the finest joint in town.

Food wise there is actually lots to discover, some fine chili places, Mexican joints, and this dodgy little bar that had some fine salisbury steak. We tossed back a few root-beers, stapled a few dollars on the wall to appease our intergalactic overlords, and hit the hay to get up before sunrise to hit the dirt trails.


I cannot overstate how absolutely FANTASTIC it is to ride a dirtbike through desert canyons. At all. I had never ridden a dirtbike, and while I was secure on a street bike, this was a whole other beast. After ditching a few times in some soft spots I learned to stand over the bike rather then lean into it; something non-riders will scratch their head at, and experienced riders nod at. It’s just like riding a BMX bike, you know, like when you were 12, if your BMX had a 650 monster engine attached to it and you were fueled by whiskey rage.

Once I had the knack of it I was flying through switchbacks and even getting my front wheel up on long tracks. As you fly through the canyons you feel like Indiana Jones, but on a motorcycle, which is about as cool as you can feel. It was epic.

Here’s a little film I shot with my drone that day. Oh, did I mention I brought a drone? Yeah. I brought a drone to Death Valley.

Once through Titus Canyon we met the Honda truck which ported water, gas, and anything else we might need. This was the way to travel. As a side note, while we rehydrated, a runner came over the hill half dead. Apparently her boyfriend had fallen ill running a trail and was about 2 miles back, baking in the sun, unable to move. Like a modern western our best rider jumped on a 350 and tore off on his mechanical horse to help. Needless to say the chap was alright and our badass meter jumped up another notch.

We took lunch at Scotty’s Castle, which, if you’ve never been, is friggin weird. It’s a castle … in the middle of Death Valley. Thats it. A clear testament to human’s ability to put things where they truly do not belong. Strange as it is, it’s a magical place to take lunch, and get out the scorching heat for a sec.

Refueled, we continued on, heading to the famous Racetrack Playa, a dry lake-bed which has been in every car commercial in the 90’s. On the way we passed Teakettle Junction, and checked the pots for some secret messages. We found one, that said “Nancy. I’ve left. The salt has me now. Tell grandma I loved her. The money is in the seat cuchion. Don’t drink too much. Stay safe. Ted.” Ted is my new spirit animal.

The lake bed is an amazing place, unlike anywhere else on earth (other then other deserts that might have a dry lake bed). It’s a place with absolutely … nothing. For a kid from NYC this is unreal, and immediately made me nervous and start looking around for a Starbucks. Alas, there was none. Things started to get…weird.


We drove back hooping and hollering, through Ubehebe Crater, Zabriskie and the Rhyolite ghost town, and arrived back in sleep Beatty just in time for supper. We hit up this Mama Sara’s, which, no lie, had the best Mexican food I’ve ever put in my mouth. This coming from a man who has lived in SoCal, Mexico City, and even gotten into La Esquina in NYC. This was off the cadena (that’s “chain” in Spanish. Sorry).

In the end, Death Valley is a magical place. It’s a wondrous, empty, low spot on the planet that is strangely filled with so much to see, experience, and feel. It is a beautiful place for introspection and a meditative location to reflect quietly on one’s life. It’s only ten times better doing it ripping through a desert canyon on a 650 cc cannon as BRRRAAAAAP echos off the sandstone walls. Respect.


thai rodeo. buffalo racing?

One day earlier this year I got a little phone call from a man by the name of Joel Soisson.

“Hi. This is Joel Soisson.”

Who the hell was Joel Soisson? Well, if you know how to Google (or click a hyperlink you lazy bum) you would quickly find out he is the producer of such films as Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure (starring a super young Keanu Reeves and Billy Joe Armstrong), Dracula 2000 (which is like classic Dracula with computers) and my personal favorite, Piranha 3DD (Staring Doc Brown, strippers as lifeguards, and yes, double D was not a typo).

Well long story short the convo went like “hey, you want to come to this remote, back-country part of Thailand no one goes to and do some aerial filming for our new movie, “The Buffalo Rider”?”

Yes Joel, I would. 

And I did:

What an amazing thing to not only film, but see. This was the real deal; villagers and townsfolk came from all over. The head of the region sat on a little makeshift stage wearing his best shirt. There were shiny plastic trophies, pleanty of Ya Dong drinking, and lots of people cheering on small boys hanging on for dear life to a charging 2 ton water buffalo.

The track, muddy and wet, was more of a slip and slide then a racetrack. At the end, a shallow lake.

How do you steer a water buffalo? You don’t. How do you slow it down? You don’t. How do you stop it? You jump off.

The video will show you what I saw. Exciting, dangerous, and fast, this is a rodeo that only the country that invented Red Bull could invent. As for the color treatment, for all you film nerds, I had an itch to learn DaVinci Resolve which is an amazing program, and decided to put their qualifier and keyer to the test. I don’t think there is a better film grading program out there, and it’s free people. 

See other little aerial films at my site http://www.robertoserrini.com/filter/drone/Drone-Aerial-Cinematography


Thai Buffalo Racing final.Still004

tropical island. drones. beautiful.

This year I had the pleasure of going to Thailand on a film shoot (The Buffalo Rider – watch for it in theaters) and on the tail end of the shoot hit up the wee island of Koh Phi Phi for a little R&R and sun worship.

Of course it took me about 6 minutes before I broke out the drones.

So here is a little vacation film of Outrigger Resort on the island of Koh Phi Phi in Thailand. It truly is paradise…


one day in bangkok (you know the rest)

So Bangkok. Whatcha got…

We were staying at the Sokhothai hotel (see this post about how dope it was) and now that Songkran was “officially” over, we decided to make the best out of the day. The first thing I noticed about Bangkok was how friendly the people were. Really friendly. Some, a little too friendly to be honest. All in all, it was a good place to adventure, but do so with an eye of caution like anywhere else. For a point of reference: we mentioned to a chap at the hotel that we were going to a few of the main Wats (temples) in the old city… he said “ah… fantastic. Listen, when you get there you will meet people who will tell you they are closed. They are not. They are open.”

This took me by surprise. apparently they try to get you to come with them to their “tourism office” and buy a package to sightsee. This is useless as a) the temples are all open and b) you are to buy tickets you buy them directly from the temples. Basically people trying to make money off tourism. I found also the cabs, while ridiculously cheap in comparison to NYC standards, are real pushy about bringing you places. Many times I asked to go one place, only to be carted to another that was “much better my friend” than where I wanted to go. I will gladly pay NYC prices for a guy that knows how to get from Greenpoint Brooklyn to w 96th street Manhattan in a non-conversational 15 minutes.

Our advice? Stay clear of the taxi’s and hop a water bus. Traveling the river you get to see the old Bangkok, with some ancient buildings slowly being eaten by the Chao Phraya river. A mix of colonial French, classic Asian, and mixed urban utilitarian, Bangkok has a beautiful cityscape, something truly unique and sexy dressed in a lingerie patina of dilapidation. The ride was a few bucks, and took maybe 15 minutes, just enough to see the city and not get scheeved out by a “did the river just get in my mouth” moment.


Docking near the Grand Palace, you enter into a network of slim alleyways and crowded market stalls. You know immediately you are in a foreign place and it is wonderful.

Making our way to the The Emerald Buddha Temple (Wat Phrakaew) we sampled some spices and some lychee which were amazing. For me it is always amazing to be in a living city, where the markets are functional and locals actually shop there, not just something meant to capture tourist dollars.

Not knowing really what to expect at the temple, I can honestly say my mind was completely blown. Expansive and intricate, building after building was a kaleidoscope of color, shimmering towers of glass and gems. Some that had the appearance of gold paint were actually thousands (millions?) of gold tiles.

Well worth the hour we spent meandering from gilded tower to the next, we left feeling enlightened and ready to see more. I had heard of an “amulet alley” that was near the temple which grabbed my attention as it sounded like some real life Indiana Jones shit (cue music). We ducked out of the temple and northward and soon stumbled upon this fabled market.

The Thai people are highly superstitious (not many people openly wear dicks on their belt, but the Thai do) and the Amulet market feeds their higher power addiction. Tables upon tables of tiny amulets from all over the place flood this area as men with watchmaker loops study each one trying to find something of value. Some of these amulets can sell for nearly a million dollars if you happen to find the right one. Some are ancient, most are rare, and all of them are beautiful.

Moving on, and hopefully without any evil spirits in tow, we hit the waterfront again to get us some nibbles. Lotsa good food, fried rices and little crepe sandwiches, which we of course washed down with a redbull and Singha beer.

Heading back into the city we made our way to the Golden Mount which promised us a beautiful view of Bangkok. It is a temple that is built on top of a spiraled hilltop. As you walk up there are hundreds of bells and gongs that you bang along the way. Reaching the top the view is beautiful, almost as good as the breeze you get having escaped the tropical city heat.

Inside we had our fortunes told by a little Buddha. First you lift a brass elephant with your pinky (donno why, but it’s always been my credo not to ask why one should lift brass animals, regardless of digit used) and then shake a can with popsicle-stick-like sticks in it. As you shake, one eventually rises to the top and falls out. It has a number on it that corresponds to a fortune written on the wall. Really quite lovely. We left, placed a lock like we always do in places we make a memory together and wish to return to eventually unlock it.


On the way back we walked through Lumphini park where protesters had settled in. I was told there was a bit of unrest, but until Lumphini I really didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. This was out of the ordinary. Thousands of people, hundreds of tents, a virtual city within a city of protestors. At the moment everything was quiet (it could have been, quite possibly, too hot to protest) but it was amazing to walk through the shanty town of resistance. A mixture of bulletproof vests and sandals paved our way back to the hotel. After posting that picture on Instagram I received a text from my mother 35 seconds later. I should have been a war correspondent.

Another shower and the Thai’s idea of an espresso and we were ready for our final meal in Bangkok. We both had about our fill of local street food, delicious as it may have been, and decided to go decadent at an amazing restaurant called Issaya:

Being from New York, and having traveled extensively (sometime purely to go eat somewhere) I can say that Issaya was a world-class gem. It had in it all the elements that makes foreign haute cuisine a winner: a fusion of local tastes with a novel approach to classic dishes. Strange and wonderful, flavorful and extraordinary, the presentation as tasty as the food itself, and all in a setting that demands you post on instagram right away. I can’t say anything other than it was a perfect last meal in this amazing city.

The next morning on the way back to the airport our driver looked at us and asked if we were American. “I guess so” I said, never really knowing how to answer that, being from so many different places. “Ah America,” he said, “land of the free. You know, Thailand was called Siam about 50 years ago. But now we call it Thailand. Thailand means ‘the land of the free’.”

Yes it does my friend. Yes it does.


get all wet. songkran.

Bangkok. You know what they say, one night here, and the world is your oyster. Clammy, stinky, and wet; and during the festival of Songkran, it’s just like that. (Long way to go for a Murray Head joke, but worth it I think.)

So yeah, let’s get one thing out of the way: there is a lot of sex around. However, if you’ve travelled a lot, frankly, that’s the boring part. People have lots of different reactions to prostitution; some excited, some terrified, some gratified, some horrified. Frankly, for the one commodity on the planet that anyone can sell, just for being alive, I find it a bit, well, meh.

So lets focus on what makes Bangkok Bangkok other then getting someone to suck your c**k.

First, the hotel. Boom.

The Sukhothai Hotel, besides being fun to say, was a stunner. Big, beautiful, overly graceious. The staff was warm and extremely helpful, The rooms were stunning, modern and with a toilet that wiped your ass for you. Oh, the breakfast buffet was bar none one of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to graze. If you go, stay here; it’s near Lumpini park, perfectly away from the chaos of old downtown, and easy to get to from the airport. A tripple play.

Perhaps the coolest thing this chichi hotel did was give us a “Songkran Survival Kit”…


A beautiful malai (flower ring) and khan (metal bowl) along with chalk to bless objects and people (usually I dont like to consider people objects, unless it’s fun, like slapping chalk on them). The kit is supplied so that you can perform nam om, the water ritual, where you are blessing someone by sprinkling water on them. Of course, this is an ancient ritual, and after years of evolution, along with the advent of RedBull, today it looks a little something like this:


I had heard that the entire city comes out to play in a giant game of waterfight. What I didn’t realize is that no one was exaggerating when they said the entire city.

I had my doubts that it would live up to the hype, but honestly, this was above and beyond what I expected. It is the strangest sensation to roll around a huge metropolis, squirting the shit out of everybody and anyone, and they enjoy it. No one is safe; people in tuk-tuks, the dude selling fruit, even the cops, if you can see one in the sea of people. Amazing.

Of course a day of all out warfare made us quite hungry… luckily there was plenty to eat on the streets.

Delicious ramen with savory broth, grilled and splayed chicken, and lots of fresh veggies and fruit all over the place. In a word… heaven… After a good two hours we were soaked to the bone and well fed, which looks a little something like this:

Ladies… remember to not wear white cotton;)

kho pi pi is for me!

In my twenty’s my ma gave me a little book by a one Alex Garland. The book was “The Beach”. It has never left my mind. I was about to re-enact a fantasy, and was very excited.

Kho Pi Pi is a perfect jewel of an island in the gulf of Thailand. It is as close to paradise as you’re going to get. In Chon Buri, when telling the locals I was going to “Pi Pi” (trying not to laugh every time like a 10-year-old) they all said the same thing, “oohahhahahaaaa – ohhhhhhh!” and made a wide-eyed face like they were slow motion riding a large Narwhal in a hot fudge sea (that’s what it was like, fuck you). Eventually I found out what this unique expression would come to mean; Pi Pi is Cray Zee.

To get to Pi Pi we would have to take a Fer Ree (I’ll stop now. Promise.). To get there, we had to drive to port, which I only mention because it was the beginning of Songkran, or Thai New Year a.k.a. country-wide water fight.

Songkran, originated with children showing respect to their elders by gently pouring a small amount of jasmine fragrant water into their hands, as a sign of a blessing. Over the centuries the ritual has been, well, “pumped up” a bit. Now the whole country takes place in a water fight. What do you expect from a country that invented Red Bull?

When I say “the whole country” that’s exactly what I mean. People in outer-buroughs line the street, or fill up the back of a pickup truck with a 10 gallon barrels of water and as many Thai’s you can cram in armed with water cannons and take to the streets “blessing” the shit out of anyone they come across. I’ve seen a lot of things, many I wish I could forget. This is something I suggest EVERYONE go experience. It’s nothing less than lovely. While we didn’t stop to play, er, I mean bless anyone, I did not despair… there will be plenty of Songkranin’ in Bangkok in a few days, and for now, I was island bound. Next stop Kho Pi Pi.

The island is like some dystopian future project set on a sandy beach very far from anything that resembles civilization. To get there you must take a 2 hour ferry. The comedy starts on the ferry, which costs about 10 USD to jump on. From there you can pay an additional 5 USD to go to “Elite class” (their words not mine) which is like … the front of the boat. You get windows. Huzzah. From there, there is another option for high rollers wishing to pay an additional 5 USD, for “Premium Class”  which was the top-level on the boat. From there you were allowed to yell “I’m on a boat” with your shirt open.

Im on a boat!
Im on a boat!

Sitting in “steerage” we met a cool young couple from Australia (go figure). He was a commercial airline pilot, she, a teacher, both living in Hong Kong and doing a bit of travelling, like good Aussies tend to do. They were going to Pi Pi and we discussed the island. I found out the island is split into two basically; one side for transient, bohemian backpackers, the other, the well to do, “I want my food cooked”, Farang people. They were heading to the cool side, “The Beach” side. I was jealous for sure.

At this point we threw down 20 New York dollars and went to the top deck. They had free cookies and water. ALL YOU COULD EAT. I took 4 on a little paper napkin and went back down to our new friends, back in steerage.

“Here you go. I figured you might be hungry. Sorry, I can’t stay; they’re starting the caviar course up in Premium Class in 5 minutes. Ciao.” and went back upstairs. Rolling deep ya’ll.

like a BAUWCE
like a BAUWCE. (thats about 8 dollars.)


Arriving at the main town in Pi Pi is a little like Catalina Island, or any other touristy port of call. It’s colorful, crowded, and can’t help but look like a movie set. Capitalizing on the fact that you have nowhere to go, they immediately charge you 5 bucks for stepping on the island, apparently to keep it “clean”. I always think things are legitimate when you are forced to put money into a water cooler jug. At least it had an “island concervashon” sign taped to it. Legit.


From there we hopped a long tail boat to our resort. Long tail boats are what happens when Mad Max and the Brazilian Yanomami tribe go in together and start making boats together. It’s like a diesel truck engine slapped on the back of a dopey canoe. You steer by rotating the two ton engine. It’s nothing short then epic.

On the long tail we met another nice couple, this time from Germany. Herby, Karolina, Miranda and I bounced down the lovely gulf water lovingly gazing at the paradise around us. They were excited to get to our resort, as we were. It was a long sea journey, and with all this aquamarine sea around all we wanted to do is float in it. The ride to the resort was another good hour it seemed, which made me wonder where the hell this place we were going was.

Finally, the boat started to move to the coast. However…. it would seem like we were out of sea….

um... tides?

The tides here, it would seem, are biblical. Biblical, like, Moses could have led his people from Egypt to the reception hall here. I’ve never seen anything like it. Until I saw a tractor driving in the water to come pick us up. Then I said I never saw anything like it.

From the boat I took a grainy pick of a woman rolling her luggage across the great expanse of tidal sandy shore. fully dressed, and in my head she was wearing heels, I laughed seeing the in vivo Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone. “The Joan Wilder?!”. In the flesh folks.

city slicker

Well, Ferry to Long Tail boat to tractor, we made it in. They gave us a frothy sweet drink and sat us down, and brought all the paperwork to us. Miranda was lovely enough to falsely mention to the hotel that it was our Honeymoon, a common trick of shrewd New Yorker’s who don’t get enough vacation time, so they make the time they get fucking count. What I don’t think she expected was that there would be a band, a special room, and them to write out in flowers on the bed “Happy Honeymoon”. We drew tattooed wedding bands on our hands and hoped for the best.

happy honeymoon

The Outrigger resort was lovely. A little too lovely to be honest. I had dreams of “The Beach”. I mean, I had bought bespoke handmade backpacks that came with built-in hammocks, and Goddamn’t I was gonna use them. This place already had hammocks up, and the nice ones, with pillows. There were air-conditioned huts, a minibar full of Toblerone, Coke, and a fine Rose, and better cable television then I got in the states. I guess what really put me over was that there was a luau. We were in Maui not Pi Pi.

Regardless, it’s hard to be upset with paradise. Impossible actually. I mean hammocks with pillows? C’mon. We got really nice messages, considered playing tennis, and enjoyed the perfect beach and pool, getting ready for our next stop, the dragon’s belly itself, Bangkok.

phuket, I’m outta here.

Finally. Paradise.

Met the girl at the airport. I love moments like these. They are so very rare. Travelling for me has always been a solitary activity. Perhaps being an only child with flight benefits from a very early age made me love to go forth with reckless and lonely abandon. I love travelling alone; it’s really the best way to discover a new place. It forces you in many cases to get into the sort of good trouble that you wouldn’t normally within the comforts of a familiar partner. I suggest it to any wayward college age kid to buy a ticket and just go. It’s kinda the same advice I give people who want to get into film; pick up a camera and shoot. Hemingway once said “The secret to life is living. It’s just that simple.” Alright, I’m not sure if Hemingway ever said that, but it is certainly possible. It sounds like him and there are no adjectives, so, yeah.

While travelling alone is a magic way to discover yourself, it is also not surprisingly the only real way to get to know a person which is why I was very excited see my girl on the literal other side of the world. Here we were two new animals, unclassified from the concrete jungle that normally defines us. It’s like the Hunger Games IRL. (I called Katness if anyone is wondering.)

Let the games begin!

We spent a mere few hours in Bangkok, cruising the airport terminal amazed that they had a Boots of all things for us to pursue (no sausage rolls, damn you Bangkok). We then hopped a short flight to Phuket, gateway to Thai Island Paradise. Hopping a snazzy cab in Phuket we made our way to the Indigo Pearl, which to me sounded more like a Battlestar Galactica spaceship then a hotel, and, I came to find out, t’was. I can’t really say enough about the Indigo Pearl. It’s the kinda place that can only exist in a generally lawless and beautiful country like Thailand. The resort rivals most small towns in it’s mere size. The lobby wasn’t so much a lobby as it was a port for people. Open and vast, dark wood and pretty blue jewels and everything with a steampunk edge. Built on an old Tin Mine (c’mon, that’s awesome) every corner of this luxury resort linked back to its roots with an industrial flair. Tin I-Beams holding up thatched roof, comically large industrial valves for faucets, and even wrench and screwdriver silverware in the restaurant. This place was a designers wet dream, and a welcomed sight to a guy who has been in the bush for ten days.


You need provisions to go from the check in desk to the concierge desk.
You need provisions to go from the check in desk to the concierge desk.


Taking a private golf cart to our room (is there anything other than a private golf cart I have to ask?) my jaw was open most of the way; a giant stretch of pools, restaurants and bars as far as the eye could see. Grounds so immaculate and imposing you thought a gay Druid wedding planner was given free reign to do his worst. It was, from an architectural standpoint, inspiring.

Then the room completed the dopeness.

Wood, and concrete, and tin. Glass and rock and fauna. Huge Ghengis Kong-esque bathroom doors that any father would feel epic behind for a morning ritual. It was wild. And then… the balcony. Can you call it a balcony when there is a huge two person onyx tub on it? No, I didn’t think you could. We’ll, when I asked Miranda if she wouldn’t mind booking the hotels for our leg of the trip I had no doubt that this creative director/producer would come through. I just didn’t know she was gonna make me question if she should have become a private concierge for the rich and famous.

This was an exquisite treat, and we could have easily spent a week there in happy solitude. We decided to slide out to the beach and see what southern Thailand had to offer. Bathtub waters, orgasmic sunsets, stiff cheap drinks, and basically paradise on earth was the answer.

It was a fine first day, fine indeed.


On a compressed schedule and a whirlwind 5 days straight droning, my part in “The Buffalo Rider” has wrapped. Besides the lovely Thai countryside of Chon Buri, I had the pleasure to do some amazing shooting at a remote Buddhist temple, A vast pineapple field, and even a local school, where I flew through a classroom of kids, out a window, and tracked behind two escaping students through a taro field. Life really is like a video game sometimes; you have to make each level a little more difficult or it gets a bit… boring;)


All my love to Joel and the amazing crew – they continue shooting for the rest of the month, and I look forward to some real cinema magic when the film gets completed. As for me, it’s time to get down to Bangkok, for a different kinda adventure, with my girl Miranda Kendrick from the jolly ol’ UK, coming out to be my “assistant” on the shoot … more like a “partner in crime” then an “assistant” me thinks.

Tally Ho!