Day Five: Scheduled Activities (ha)

I awoke early, partly due to jetlag, partly due to my alarm, and partly due to one or more pesky mosquitoes. I had the brilliant idea last night of leaving my balcony door cracked for fresh air and to hear the billion frogs in the pond below my room. Despite the heavy drawn curtains, several mosquitos (or maybe just one) got in and buzzed around my head while I was trying to sleep. Since most of my body was covered by the sheet/comforter, they bit the only available surface, my face. :( I now have 4-5 attractive red spots on my face (fortunately not itchy).

The other consequence of leaving the door open was a dessicated leaf-looking thing on my floor the next morning, which on closer examination turned out to be a frog. I herded him out the door with the in-room dining menu before heading off to breakfast.

My intent was to wake early, eat breakfast, and go for a training walk on the beach. Ah, the best-laid plans... As I sat at breakfast, the heaven opened for another downpour, so I was “stuck.” I checked email, read my book, and eventually it cleared up around 10:30. I walked the beach as far as the airport (2 miles? 3 max) and turned around. Between the heat and the uneven surface, I felt like virtuous even though the walk wasn’t as far as my normal training walks.

Unfortunately, this trip isn't doing much for my training schedule. I asked my hotel about walking in Bangkok - there seemed to be a straight-shot route between one of the Skytrain stations and the Grand Palace/water taxi back to the hotel. The concierge strongly discouraged it, saying it was too far. I tried to explain that I was used to walking 10 miles or more on the weekends and distance wasn't an issue and asked if it was safe. At that point, it became an issue of navigation. It may look like a straight shot, but it didn't seem that way when you were on the streets, they explained, and I might end up in an area without English speakers. Frustrated, I headed out from the hotel determined to ignore their advice. Then I realized they were right..

Bangkok is not a pedestrian-friendly city. Every intersection involves multiple skyways and lots of stairs. I ended up headed in the wrong direction shortly after exiting the train section, did the equivalent of 20 minutes on the Stairmaster between searching for Jim Thompson's house, the right shade of eyeshadow, and the road to the Grand Palace. At that point, I forgave the concierge his insistence that I shouldn’t walk.

After my beach walk in Phuket, I spent an hour or so at the pool reading, then exited the resort and bought dinner at a tiny place on the beach. I came home exhausted from my taxing day (ha!) and fell asleep shortly after.

Day Four: Getting Reacquainted

Monday morning, I ate at the breakfast buffet, followed by reading in the beanbag chair again (no storm), then left for the airport. I flew an hour on a mostly empty plane to Phuket, a lovely island off the western coast of Thailand that is best known for being devastated by the Boxing Day tsunami in 2004.

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.

Day Three: You Can't Go Back

I woke extra early, hoping to beat the August heat, and undoubtedly a victim of jetlag. I descended 28 floors to the breakfast buffet, eagerly anticipating the breakfast soup station from my last visit - choose your noodles, wait for the noodle master to cook them in broth, then add your condiments - fried garlic bits, green onions, tofu, etc. But there was no soup station. The rest of the buffet was good, but I'd been so looking forward to the soup...

I had also been looking forward to some shopping in the Narita (Tokyo) Airport the day before. I have almost finished both compacts of my favorite eyeshadow, which I've unsuccessfully tried to replicate with both drug- and department store brands. However, Shiseido apparently doesn't make my favorite colors anymore. After visiting four duty-frees in the airport and a Shiseido store in a Bangkok mall (a mall!!), I gave up.

I've realized that one advantage of traveling to unfamiliar places is that you have few expectations that won't be met.

I planned to go to the Chatuchak weekend market that Sunday. Since it didn't open until 10, I had a few hours to kill after my 6AM breakfast. I headed up to the 4th floor pool - a hotel employee told me that they'd added sand and palm trees, and that sounded like something to see! The place was deserted at 6:30 in the morning except for a lone dedicated hotel employee sweeping the floor, and the views over the river were stunning.

I love the pool setup. The "beach" is to the left as you walk in and is faced on one side by pairs of lounge chairs separated by walls of greenery and by cushioned platforms on the other. If you walk straight ahead toward the river, you reach the infinity pool: a lap area on the hotel side and then a semicircle of lounge chairs facing the river. The lounge chairs are all sunk into about 4 inches of water, and there's a beautiful jasmine tree in the center of the pool. Since there was rain coming down (it's rainy season in Thailand), I stayed under cover and settled myself into a surprisingly comfortable beanbag chair with American Pastoral.

The rain came down harder and harder, the wind picked up, and I wrapped up in pool towels to protect myself from the downpour. I read for about 2 hours before heading out for the Skytrain and the market.

My favorite thing about the Skytrain: signs requesting that you give up your seat for monks. Second favorite thing about the Skytrain: it's efficient and easy to navigate.

I wandered the Chatuchak Market for several hours, getting progressively hotter, sweatier, and grumpier. I found the gifts I wanted, lusted over some gorgeous oragami-type lamps that I wouldn't know how to get home, and tried unsuccessfully to work up the courage to enter one of the very busy and very Thai restaurants. By mid-afternoon, I was not only hot, wet, and grumpy, but my back and feet hurt. I'd been accosted by people who made a pretense of being helpful and then tried to persuade me to go to a store even though I told them I was trying to find a local museum. I was longing for a bit of familarity and something that wasn't a challenge, and I did the unthinkable:

I ate my first dinner in Thiland at the Outback Steakhouse.

I've never understood people who traveled all the way around the world to do something they could easily do at home. But that day, I understood the draw of the McDonald's, the Starbucks, and the Outback Steakhouse.

In my defense, I've been craving a steak and baked potato for several weeks, but really I just longed for someplace that looked familiar, where I'd recognize things on the menu, and I could be pretty sure the waiter/waitress would be fluent in English. It succeeded on all counts, and I did order a Thai beer to go with the steak.

Thai food and the islands tomorrow.

Days One and Two: One Night in Bangkok

Finally, vacation!

After reaching the front of the international economy line at Dulles, the airline employee informed me that I could use my Premier Executive status to use a shorter line and wait in the Red Carpet Club. Now that's useful knowledge! The club was right next to my gate, so I edged in, feeling like an imposter, and spent the next 20 minutes alternately arguing with family members on the phone and drowning my stress in free mimosas. Well, one free mimosa. Still, cheers for the Red Carpet Club.

Twenty-four hours of traveling later, including the International Date Line, I arrived in Bangkok late Saturday night. My decision to get an airport transfer was a wise one - it's wonderful to have someone waiting for you at the airport, even if it's not anybody you know. The driver made some small talk and then fell silent. For a while I just relaxed in the back seat, but then traffic backed up (at 11PM!) and we saw several trucks that seemed to be dragging flaming iron grids. I asked the driver what that was, and there was dead silence. I waited a few moments, thinking he'd answer or ask me to repeat myself. The silence stretched thinner and thinner as I slowly realized that he wasn't going to acknowledge the question at all. We sat in dead silence until we reached the hotel.

After a full day traveling in economy, my hotel room felt like heaven. A king-size bed, a view of the Chao Praya River, a plate of mango, a Singha, and a great big bathtub to wash off the travel grime. Finally, I stretched out completely flat and fell into a deep sleep.

Welcome to Bangkok.

Free Time

I remember a time in what feels like the distant past when I had a good amount of free time. I took leisurely lunches and chatted in the kitchen with coworkers; I stayed in good contact with my friends. I spent mornings either exercising or roaming the neighborhood with my camera. I played trivia in the evenings or went out to dinner or worked on a present for my nephew's quickly-approaching first birthday. I've always reveled in unstructured time and found enjoyable ways to fill it.

Lately I haven't had much free time. A large part of this is by choice. I signed up for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, committing to multiple-hour training walks every weekend day between June and October. I've followed my normal annual policy of scheduling multiple different birthday celebrations with different groups of friends in an admittedly narcissistic tribute to myself. I happily accepted a friend's produce delivery while he's out of town, which means I'm cooking more than normal. These are all good things! And then there's work.

Now I have a big chunk of free time approaching, and I'm a little anxious about the adjustment. How easily can I go from 100 mph to 5 mph for over a week? Will I revel in it? Will I get bored? Will I have deep thoughts? Will I start blogging regularly?

T-4 days and counting.

Green Smells

I've come to the realization that I like green smells:

• mint
• eucalyptus
• lime
• basil
• pine/juniper
• cut grass

Pink, purple, other colored smells aren't nearly as appealing.

Why I Don't Write

I've been feeling a little guilty about neglecting my blog for the past few months. I have a million excuses:

• Insecurity - Who cares about my walking program, my excitement over cooking healthy with fresh produce from the local farmers' markets, my upcoming vacation (yet another vacation!)?
• Laziness - I've been seduced by the social networking option of throwing out a single thought with no deep analysis. No need to develop a thesis - write 140 characters and see if anyone comments!
• Narcissism - I need to have an imaginary audience when I write, and that audience has been tough to conjure lately.
• Intimidation - I have some friends who are great blog writers and seem to be able to effortlessly toss off a meaningful blog post almost daily. Reading them makes me wonder who can keep up!
  

However, I've been thinking about getting back to the blog, perhaps because anything seems more appealing than my current work deadlines. I keep telling myself that it doesn't have to be meaningful. Topics like "Embracing Your Inner Geek" are worth exploring!

I'm approaching the end of a release and hope to resume the blog postings then, if not before. I think most of my three loyal readers know what's going on in my life, but I like the thought of the blog as historical record, and the historical record currently has a big gap.

To good intentions...