post-Thai; the countdown begins
I’m back, I’m rested, and I’m slightly tanned. I spent spring break in Thailand. It was messy, sandy, beachy, lovely, delicious, and above all stinking HOT. It was a nice break, and mostly blurs into a haze of beach and Bangkok traffic.
The first day to Bangkok, arrived at midnight and waited in the airport until the first morning flight down to the open-air boutique airport on Ko Samui. From that island I and my travel companion, we’ll call him OC, were efficiently funneled toward the ferry which took us to a smaller island called Ko Phangan (”pan-yang”). At the little ferry port we spent an obscene amount of money (I think the term is “got had”) for a very bumpy ride in the back of a pickup truck “taxi” over the worst road I have ever seen, to the other side of the island. This was so we could stay at a little beach called Ao Thong Nai Pan Noi. It was worth it; the beach was gorgeous and we had a really cool little hut, literally 15 feet from the edge of the sand. To celebrate I got a Thai massage, which was everything that massage long ago in India should have been.
So of course, we only stayed one night, figuring everywhere would be equally cool, and continued our journey back over the island the next day and on to another, smaller island called Ko Tao, which was our intended destination. I wanted to give scuba diving a try since OC is a big fan of it, and Ko Tao is famous for awesome dive sites.
Which I, unfortunately, never saw any of. The next day we joined a boat trip, my friend for a refresher course and I to try an intro dive. I was thinking that if I liked it I might do the 4-day certification course, but as it turned out I was counting chickens before I bought any eggs. I couldn’t learn the most basic of skills required to try even an intro dive, which is clearing your mask underwater. Couldn’t do it, just kept inhaling seawater and almost puking, all the while getting more and more panicked about the thought of having multiple meters of water over my head. So, after like 50 tries, I gave up and swam defeatedly back to the boat. I guess I’m a landlubber, not cut out for life underwater. In other firsts, it was probably also the most I’ve ever paid to fail utterly.
So, no dive course for me, went back to Ko Phangan with the idea of staying put for awhile. This time we stayed on Ao Thong Nai Pan Yai, the second beach in the same bay as before. The beach was even prettier and the sand even finer, and the water even more swimmable. It was amazing. This time the front porch of the bungalow was a mere five feet from the sand, and the people who owned the hut and restaurant were very friendly. We stayed three nights, and OC got another dive in while I just swam, snorkeled (no problems there), napped, got another massage, ate too much and got a little browner. Though I really slathered on the sunscreen, not wanting either a) to look like the lobstery people who obviously forgot or b) the bronzed German girls who all looked great in their bikinis, despite being the color of grilled hot dogs.
Which brings me to another point; as it turns out, Thailand is a secret German colony! I swear 9 out of 10 tourists were German, and also smokers and covered in tattoos, both men and women. They did, however, look great in their bikinis/speedos. I was totally jealous. I gained weight, if such a thing is possible on a vacation where you sweat a lot and swim and haul your pack everywhere. Even considering the pint of blood I lost to mosquitoes at dusk.
On April Fool’s Day we left regretfully and headed to Bangkok for 2.5 days, just enough to see the Grand Palace and Royal Wat, Wat Pho (the reclining Buddha), get massages at the Wat Pho massage school, and hit up some markets where I got to practice my rusty bargaining skills. While I definitely enjoyed the beach, I have to say I felt much more alive in Bangkok, chatting and haggling with the vendors. If I were alone I might have spent the whole two days at the markets and really perfected my art.
I expected my impression of Bangkok to be similar to that of Delhi, but actually Bangkok seemed more modern and affluent by far. The traffic jams were epic, but all in all the driving was much more organized, with less trash, fewer dogs and no cows. If Bangkok is still the third world, then Delhi is more like the 4th. Anyway, Thailand was good, long live the King.
Interestingly, I think it also sort of got the desire for post-Japan traveling in India out of my system. Somehow it became clear that with no job prospect there and no desire to study yoga full time (the default for India travel bums) I don’t think I’d be happy just wandering. I really want to go to India again sometime, but with a purpose. For now I want to keep moving my life in a direction.
My new non-India plan is vague, but I think it will involve going home and bumming for a bit until I get encouraged to leave/get a job/get out of bed and shower by the mum. I intend to sleep a lot and enjoy not having a job for awhile. Need to detox, de-Japanify, stop bowing reflexively.
Other than that, I’m thinking of (dum-da-da-dum) applying for grad school (I know I swore I wouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself aaak!) possibly in Education, with a teaching certificate in mind. Seems like something that could be useful.
But before any of that, I have 3.5 months to go, as of yesterday. I’m already stressing the apartment cleaning, sorting, packing, shipping, weeding of my stuff, which got busy with itself and multiplied while I wasn’t looking. Also I have to think of what still to try and see while in Japan. It seems awkward to be starting a new school year just as I am about to go, and in some ways I’m ready to just finish up now and get out. But more than anything, I am dreading the goodbyes. As much as I complain and plot my escapes, there are a dozen people here whom I will really miss.
Maybe I should stop moving around so much.
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