In preparation for my trip, I watched "Tsunami: The Aftermath," an HBO miniseries based on the tsunami and its after-effects. The movie was a tear-jerker without going for cheap sentiment. Sophie Okonedo, who was fantastic in Hotel Rwanda, plays a woman whose daughter is lost in the wave. She struggles with anger at her husband for failing to protect the girl and then tries to claim another, probably orphaned, little girl. The other stories are told from the perspective of a photojournalist (Tim Roth), the British ambassador, and an aid worker (Toni Collette) trying to meet all the unfillable needs. A unknown Thai actor plays a resort employee who sees the big developers appropriate his village's land while the residents debate from the hills whether it's safe to return. The movie gave me a much better appreciation for the tragedy that struck here not that long ago.
You'd never guess it, to see this resort. The last time I was here (2007), things still looked like they rebuilding, but today, there's little evidence to be found. The resort is both lush and austere, a combination of massive tropical plants (some with leaves nearly as big as me) and concrete and metal structures, in homage to the area's history as a tin mine. The tin mine theme is carried out in the smallest details, from the nut-like ashtray on one of my two (!!) balconies, to the bolt-like toilet paper holder. The lucite tissue holder has screws embedded in the lid, and the hand towels and washcloths are presented on a stand shaped like another bolt. The bathroom floor is a smooth, cool cement.
Those of you who heard me talk about my accommodations before the trip may realize that I'm not in the room I planned. I originally booked the Plantation Villa, which was supposed to have a private courtyard in front with lounge chairs, an umbrella, and a bathtub. On the rear side of the bedroom, the web site showed an outdoor shower. It sounded like heaven.
When I arrived, however, the previous guest hadn't checked out, so I sat in the lobby, sipping a ginger drink and reading Atlas Shrugged. (I finished American Pastoral.) Eventually they offered me an upgraded room as an apology for the wait, but I had my heart set on that outdoor shower. Still, an upgrade is an upgrade, so I asked to see both before I made my decision. Wise choice.
The Plantation Villa was not what I expected. With lush vegetation all around, there was no sun to be had in the courtyard and the courtyard was open on one side to a pond in which the resort’s nicest restaurant is situated. Not the site for private sunbathing that I’d envisioned. The shower was indoors, and the bathtub, while it was outside, was in the back, enclosed and breezeless. I asked to see the other room.
The door to the other room opens into the bedroom, with a king size bed set at an angle, and a seating area that opens onto a balcony with a daybed, two chairs, and a table. 
One wall is completely mirrored, which makes the already large set of rooms look palatial. To the left is a broad doorway that opens into the bathroom, which is fully as large as the bedroom: a large, cement-floored shower with a glass wall on one side and open on another. A counter that stretches almost the length of the room, with two sinks. A toilet in a private room beyond the shower. Best of all, a large claw-foot bathtub in front of a glass door to the second balcony. I accepted that room immediately.My first day at the resort consisted of an hour or two sitting at my favorite pool and taking lots of pictures of my room. I roamed the resort and discovered that I missed out on a lot the first time I was here.
Rebar was one of the "new" discoveries, where I had dinner that night. It's a second-story bar with rough-hewn plank floors, tons of wood-framed glass windows that can be pivoted based on the weather, big leather chairs, trace/club music, and views overlooking a garden area on one side. I ordered calamari and salmon sashimi for dinner, both of which were excellent. I consider myself somewhat of a salmon sushi aficionado, and this was on par with the salmon I've had anywhere - tender, good flavor, yum.
Halfway through dinner, there was a massive downpour. I could hear the raining hitting the roof and could see it out the garden side, but I was snug and comfortable in my big leather chair, with my book and my glass of wine. I read until the rain let up, then went home and tucked myself into bed.
Not a bad first day.
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