It's high season on Phuket. There are more regattas and parties, wine-tastings and restaurant launchings than a girl can shake a lipstick at. So go on, guess what? I've launched into a promising career as a movie starlet! Well, to be honest, not so much a starlet as a

movie extra.

It happened like this: A German film company advertised in the Gazette for extras to take part in their movie, Traum Hotel, so I leapt at the chance.

The first day, I'm up at 5 o'clock in the morning at the Boat Lagoon with 40 other bleary-eyed wannabes. We're ferried off to an island in southern Phang Nga Bay, where a reception party of wardrobe women fusses around us. Glancing about, I notice Dominique, the two Eric's, David and Lin, and I realize with a lurch that this is the first time I've ever seen them fully clothed! Such is beach life on Phuket.

The make-up team does a lovely bob job on my hair. Then the Big German Director (BGD) turns up; all six-foot-five of him squeezed into tight white shorts, long sun-bleached hair, Rolex on wrist, creamed in factor 20 from his Teutonic dome to his toes. From behind his Ray Bans he addresses the coffee-starved ensemble of expats: "Ve are behint in der schedule. Ve want serious cooperation and ve want it now."

Ten minutes later we're required to stand on the shoreline for up to 30 minutes at a time while — get this — a Thai bloke in a waiter's penguin outfit is filmed time and again walking towards the camera bearing a pair of highly polished leather boots on a silver serving tray. Is this a Wim Wender film, or what? After an hour or so we're positively tottering under the tropical sun and, I swear, if I weren't wearing a straw hat, by now I'd be food for the crows.

Mercifully, lunchtime rolls around. The Thai crew lay on a spread for the cast. There's curried prawns, salad, chicken coconut curry, rice and even a cheese selection. The actors turn their noses up at the food, and we extras live up to our name, going the extra mile in surreptitiously loading up pockets, shopping bags and even hats with Western food to be squirreled away for home consumption.

An interesting theme runs through the post-prandial conversation, something like "Why did The Beach get so much flack from armchair ecologists for cleaning up Phi Phi Island and leaving the place immaculate, whereas a good deal of the coconut palms on this tiny island were obviously and clumsily planted just for this movie shoot, no questions asked? Cynical answers are bandied around (mostly from the French contingent). Then someone asks what the plot of the film is and, to be perfectly honest, I hadn't given it a single thought up until then.

Now let's see: from what I can gather, it's a love story set in the 1930s, which doesn't prevent a jetski featuring in one scene. Did they have them in those days? Steam powered, maybe? Anyway, the dishy artist type falls in love with the snobby blonde who wouldn't talk to me; the "refined" (read old) German doctor who wouldn't stop trying to chat me up falls in love with the Thai lady; and a pair of leather boots is served up as hors d'oeuvres. So there you have it in a nutshell. Did I say Wim Wenders? More like Samuel Beckett on drugs.

As someone pointed out over coffee, working as an extra in a film like this is like being given two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle then being asked to describe the whole picture.

Even more mystifying is the presence of an orangutan on the set, its only discernable communication skill being a long, hand-in-the-air wave. It's amazing how much the cast and extras relate to the ape; almost as if it were a long-lost but dense cousin whose company they thoroughly enjoyed at yearly familial gatherings, if only for the photo opportunity. And yes, everyone lines up in the shimmering heat to pose with Orangutan. What part he plays in the film beats me, though. After all, orangutans aren't native to Thailand, or so I've been told. Maybe they're from Bavaria, but why bring one all the way here?

BGD strides into the shady clearing, a walkie-talkie in his bronzed mitt. "Okay!" he barks. "Zank you for your silence. I need 10 people right away."

"Five couples?" asks Mark, the cool human resources guy.

"No! 10 people."

"Last time I checked, five couples make up 10 people," sniffs Mark to no one in particular.

"Enuff dissention! I need your total cooperation!" stage screams BGD.

People rise

hesit- antly, donning jackets and hats, steeling themselves against the head-splitting early-afternoon heat. A rebellious sort of camaraderie emerges amongst the extras in the face of relentless orders.

"Now!" shouts a sun-burnt half-naked camera crew member. "Look happy!"

And we all smile a smile that speaks more of ennui than ecstasy. After countless takes to shoot three scenes we're finally through for a while. "They're not going to be happy back in Berlin when they edit this," mutters Eric. "In the first scene I wore sunglasses with a jacket. In the second scene I took off my sunglasses. The third, I took off my jacket and wore my sunglasses and stood in another group of people."

Then, totally unexpectedly (at least to me), the June Bahtra junk heaves into view looking just like one of those chunky wooden toys that people without children give to kids. The vista of this antique boat cutting through the clear blue waters of Phang Nga Bay with the Krabi coastline as a backdrop has to be seen to be believed. It's so beautiful that it's just like something out of a movie. Oops! Did I really say that?

Anyway, we're all bundled into a speedboat then clamber onto the junk where we chat and try not to look too seasick as the cast are filmed up by the prow, kissing and cuddling for the happy ending. That's it! Back we go to collect our things and board the ferry to the Boat Lagoon.

Then a funny thing happens. BGD is saying goodbye to us extras from the shoreline. After a full day in the sun he's turned a shade of orange just like the orangutan, and I gaze with fascination as he waves goodbye in the gathering dusk, his hand held high in the air, uncannily like the ape's signature wave. I have to sit down, so impressed am I by the sight, and I find myself next to David and Lin.

"We saw him too," Lin whispers. "Don't worry. You haven't lost the plot; not yet anyway."