My travel companion on my trip to my sister's wedding had inexplicably failed to meet me on a connection flight from Bangkok too the southern Thai city of Hat Yai but with my sister having asked me to give her away I had little choice but to go without him rather than delay and risk missing the ceremony. I arrived in Hat Yai after a fretful flight and checked into the twin room we booked. I sat on my bed and looked at the empty one opposite. I had been traveling for 20 hours at this stage, but had to find out what was happening.

I headed outside just in time for a heroic downpour that had Thai's scattering from the darkened streets in search of shelter. I approached a motorbike taxi driver, a somewhat elderly gentleman with a kindly face, and asked him to take me to the nearest Internet cafe. "I know it!" he said with a smile. "But the rain! I have no rain coat," he continued as his expression sagged tragically.

"OK, I'll give you a tip so you can buy a raincoat," I said, getting the hint. With that we were off into the torrent which at times almost whipped the bike out from under us. We weren't helped by the late hour and it took us some time to find a working connection. When we did find one it was in a games shop – an Asian phenomenon involving rows of teenagers who cannot afford a games console of their own transfixed by online games they play on computers they rent by the hour. I'm sure I cut a bizarre figure in that rarely-visited southern city, walking into a games shop looking like I'd been dredged up from the bottom of the Mekong and begging the boss to let me check my emails in broken Thai.

“Of course,” he said in perfect English with a look of extreme concern.

I logged into my email and there it was – the Mr Beanesque reason behind my friend's inexplicable disappearance. You see, Denis had made a series of blunders that in isolation might have been problematic but which collectively were bound to prove nothing short of catastrophic. First off, after I booked my flight to Hat Yai from Bangkok I emailed him the flight confirmation so he could book himself onto the same flight. Somehow, he got the origin, destination, time and even the date right – but he screwed up the month and booked onto a flight in April rather than March. He discovered this when he arrived in Bangkok and tried to check in. No big deal – internal flights are cheap, the flight wasn't fully booked and he had his credit card. He could just buy another ticket. Except he didn't have his credit card. He lost it somewhere between Dublin and Bangkok. Worse still, he had practically no cash. I would love to see the security video taken in Bangkok Airport that day because I can just picture his disorientated, panicked wanderings from one end of the departure hall to the other. His condition was such that he didn't think to wait for me where we had arranged so that I could get him another ticket and instead opted to approach the tourist police who rather unhelpfully suggested he go to the international departure lounge, find other Irish travellers and attempt to beg money from them. He took this advice and after several hours found three Irish girls. Sadly, they refused to give him enough money to buy a bottle of water. When asked, he told me, they turned their backs and walked away. Eventually a Scottish guy overheard a subsequent discussion with the tourist police and gave him 1,000 Baht - or the equivalent of just over E20.

Reading his tragic tale, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I laughed. I sat there soaking wet surrounded by spotty Thai teenagers and laughed my arse off. Then, I booked him onto the first flight the next day and called a friend of mine in Bangkok who went to the airport and collected him. The next day he was in Hat Yai looking like someone had picked him up by the hair in Bangkok, swung him around a few times and then thrown him to the southern city. Happily, we were both in time for the wedding which was due to take place the next day and what's more, the young man had accomplished something that looked like it might nullify his previous calamities.