At first it was fun, even sheer excitement. A pair of binoculars in hand, I would charge to the back of the house on hearing a dull "boom" that signalled an aircraft was approaching.

As it popped into view I'd zoom in on it, catching every detail on its tail and fuselage, and then, as it swept passed overhead, I would tear through the house to the front, my dreamy-looking St Bernard suddenly coming to life, giving me a quizzical look and wondering what on Earth was happening.

Once at the front, I would grab a last look as the aircraft, with engines roaring, disappeared behind the trees.

Well, I'm what you'd call an aircraft fanatic. And staying barely seven kilometres from the new, swanky airport, with my house sitting plumb under the approach path of passenger jets sweeping towards the runway, was enough to give any aeroplane enthusiast a thrill. (Yes, the jets were low enough to be seen very clearly with the naked eye; but then with the binocs you'd feel you could virtually touch them.)

But two weeks later all this fun and exhilaration died down, what with aircraft after aircraft thundering past, making a beeline for the airport in the middle of the night - just when I was struggling to get sleep.

With aircraft winging past at the rate of almost one a minute, the otherwise quiet night has been shattered as the roar of jet engines fills the sky and the pack of street dogs go into a loud, strange, collective howl.

Sure, the planes are a pretty sight against the night sky, but sleep now tends to creep up slowly on me, instead of quickly overcoming me. And at four or five in the morning I'm sometimes jolted awake when a giant 747 passes so low overhead that you'd think the deep rumble would tear the roof from its mountings.

My TV viewing too has been affected: when these jumbos and the large "pilot friendly" 777s go past as I'm watching television, I can't hear a thing, never mind if it's called the idiot box.

Still, things could be worse. I pity those staying around the takeoff point, for that's when planes are on maximum power while climbing into the sky. No wonder there have been claims of tiles falling off roofs and the sound of engines hitting an eardeafening 120 decibels, 50 decibels beyond the limit.

At least the Airports of Thailand isn't turning a deaf ear to complaints. The other day three AOT officials visited my house to inquire about the noise from the passenger jets as well as the flooding that some claim has got worse because Suvarnabhumi Airport has blocked off canals which would otherwise channel floodwater away from housing.

Whether this is true or not, I'm bearing the brunt of floods, which have ruined my beautiful garden (and the hard efforts of my fiancee), and played havoc with my car's electical system, so much so that I've been forced to take a taxi every day to work till the floodwaters recede.

But all said and done, when I see the posh, ultramodern, gigantic structure that Suvarnabhumi Airport is, there's no doubt in my mind that Thais have something to feel proud about. And, yes, it's still nice to see the planes go past, but not when I'm asleep!

Alvin Klys

Rom Klao

Webeditors' Note : We invite other readers to join Khun Klys by sending stories or photos on Suvarnabhumi Airport and other topics to webeditors@nationgroup.com.