Fanny and I communicated mainly via WhatsApp, Messenger and LINE – a very popular messaging app in Asia. The work in the restaurant has been progressing quickly and after a week, everything was ready for the opening. Fanny was energized and immediately got down to business, having security cameras installed, and door and window grills fitted all around to ensure her safety. She sent me the password to the cameras, so I could monitor her in real-time, even though she still calls me fifty times a day to update me on the situation. It became quite tiresome, as I found it hard to focus on my own affairs when I kept getting phone calls from Thailand. Telephone conversations often took a long time, although there was not much to talk about, as Fanny's knowledge of English did not allow for more complex topics to be discussed. Sometimes I would just turn on the front camera on my phone and show her what I was doing and where I was going. Our conversations typically ended abruptly when someone was calling me and the phone disconnected us. Fanny usually wasn't too happy about this.

Fanny's friend arrived just in time for the opening of the restaurant and promised to help her a little. She had her own Thai name but asked me to call her Lily. She was younger than Chonticha and spoke better English, which made her the perfect face for the restaurant.

Fanny held a new business dedication ceremony, inviting a group of Muslim clergymen to briefly perform their rituals. She then invited a large group of Buddhist monks for a day-long ceremony with ritual meals and incense burning. They left behind a lot of artifacts to ensure prosperity and success in our business, such as pictures of local lamas, Buddha figures, and the so-called tanks – Buddhist paintings. Fanny hung them all over the restaurant, and we were ready to go.

For my part, I took care of the more practical aspects, such as registering my business on Trip Advisor, Google Maps, and setting up a KAMBO profile on Facebook. I also ordered a coffee making machine in China with an integrated grinder for grinding coffee beans, so we would be the only restaurant in the area that served real coffee.

Fanny hired the first person to work in the kitchen, who later turned out to be a lady-boy, i.e., a person of two sexes. After a few weeks, Fanny realized the lady-boy was not suitable as he cooked tastelessly and was likely a drug addict, as he sometimes failed to show up for work two days in a row and then explained that he was sick. Fanny then fired him, replacing him with a man who was not a professional cook, but who could cook. This man, on the other hand, resigned after a few days because he couldn't handle it.

With only a few weeks left until the end of the season and heavy custom on the street, the first guests visited us and new ones soon followed. Things took on their proper rhythm.

Fanny made friends with clients easily, taking photos with them and sending them to me, which I then posted to Facebook. We got the first positive comments on Trip Advisor and Google Maps.

The season ended in March, with rain and the arrival of tourists from China. Fanny hired a new cook, but fired her after several days as she annoyed her. According to Fanny, she unnecessarily cut up everything in stock and wasted far too much. With Fanny as the cook, her nephew (our waiter) and a woman from Myanmar (who was outrageously underpaid) to clean, there was no point in hiring another person anyway as the restaurant business was only moderate.

Deliveries to the kitchen were made by Chontichy's motorcycle, and for now it had to be. There weren't a lot of these purchases anyway, mostly vegetables and fish from the local market a few hundred meters away.

In addition to the rather chaotic sales and purchase reports, from time to time I got a batch of Fanny’s obscene photos, usually topless. She had even sent me her entire silhouette en bloc a few times. Although they evoked fond memories, I preferred to delete them quickly so no one else could see them. Fanny, like most women in the world, was a phone freak. Her photos, typically a slightly retouched face, woke me up in the morning (which for her was the middle of the night).

She sent me hundreds of photos every day – even with the smallest shopping receipt – and talked to me from time to time. Sometimes she kept her phone on in the kitchen and I could see and hear her cooking for customers. I couldn't hang up, because it caused her to react violently, calling several times over and over again, and numerous text messages with grievance.

Business was going well, but since it was only the beginning, Fanny had to buy things from time to time for the kitchen or restaurant, which I had to finance. To help her out, I transferred a small amount of money to the debit card I left with her so that she could access it when needed. Though we hadn't yet seen any income, it wasn't bad for a start-up business. We were new to the market and had no expectation of huge profits right away.

At the end of March, Fanny informed me that I was going to be a father. Along with this news, a two-month pregnancy scan was sent to me, though it was a bit strange, as it had no date, patient details, or anything else besides a blurry image. I had no knowledge of this, so it's possible that in Thailand scans are conducted in this manner. The prospect of fatherhood didn't faze me too much. I was free, I liked children, and having one more wouldn't be a problem, even if it was far away. Fanny had plenty of energy and could handle it, and money should be fine too. My plan was, if all goes well, to buy a small house in Phuket and move permanently to Asia someday, so it was fine.

Phone calls from Phuket kept increasing, and Fanny was pushing me to come over. I booked tickets for May and started to prepare for the next trip.