California new. (#govegan.)

We, as most of you Facebook friends know and I’m sure care tons about, are (were, this is taking me awhile to write) in SF.  I’ve been to SF many times, but still, any vacation means, of course, a veritable geyser of new.  Shall we explore the explosion? Yes, indeed.

Friday, after dropping off our furry kids at our ever-patient and super-awesome friend’s house (thanks Adeline and Bruce!) we headed to the airport to revel in the fact that we no longer work there.  Worst. Job. Ever.  After enjoying a delightful breakfast at my former place of employment (turns out, eating there isn’t nearly as bad as working there) we boarded our plane and headed for the Golden State.

Ah, San Fransisco.  One thing about living in a big city that you forget about living here in lil’ ol’ Portland is the ubiquitous smell of piss.  Breathe deep, people.  From the moment we boarded the BART, to our last bus ride in SF, the scent of pee lingered omnipresent.  Other than that,  I had forgotten what a lovely, charming and friendly city SF is.

Lovely!

After disembarking (or, disemBARTing if you will) the BART (HAha!) we lugged our little wheelie suitcase over to the appropriate bus stop, and settled in for a relaxing ride…the idea of which was immediately shrieked out of existence by an entire 2nd grade class who boarded the bus mere stops after we got on.  Hell on wheels, indeed.  Surviving the ride through pure grit and cheerful conversation with the rightfully sympathetic mothers of the children, we made it to our stop and hopped out into the bright, windy San Fransisco day.

Our Airbnb (click the link if you’re going to SF-great location and room) was only two blocks from Golden Gate Park (told you! Great location!) and after a quick round of introductions with our solicitous host,  we headed out to forage for food.  We made it one block.  Clayton was hungry, and his hunger was manifesting itself in a series of complaints directed mostly at me.  Fortunately, the cafe boasted vegan (#govegan) items on the menu taped to the front window.  Thank the mighty lord.

Making our way to the counter, the girl behind it (the counter; look, Mom, I specified my pronoun!) looked up and said delightedly, “Oh my gosh!  Roz!!  It’s Kristal!  I stayed at your house!”   “Kristal!  Oh my gosh!  This is so cool!”   Yup, 15 minutes in the city and already had made two Airbnb connections.   Kristal gave us a hook-UP on food, delicious tofu pies with salad so fresh it was likely she’d just picked the lettuce and strawberries herself (not that likely, really, but damn fresh) plus thick espresso and citrus-y Sauvignon Blanc from the Napa Valley.   When Kristal had stayed with us, she’d left her hat, which I had returned to her.  She wanted to repay the courtesy and did an excellent job.

After lunch, we strolled through Golden Gate.  People lounged about in the warm sun, and Clayton stopped to examine a knotted tree while I snapped pictures of the numerous statues commemorating the founders of San Fran.  “Look, honey!”  I heard my husband exclaim.  “Look what I found!”  He held up a small vial.  “Bet it’s acid!”  Sigh.  “That’s great, Clayton, but dude!  Why are you touching that? What the hell?  List of things on nobody’s bucket list #3:  Don’t play with the strange vials of liquid one may find in Golden Gate Park.”  Grinning and utterly unmollified, Clayton placed the vial in a small hole in the tree.   When we returned to the park two days later, the vial hadn’t been touched.  So, if you’re in SF and totally crazy, go to GGP and start peering in tree-holes.  Who knows what you’ll find?

Put it back, Clayton.

Despite the adventure of drink-me vials in the park, Haight Street awaited and we were ready for more wine.  Wandering on Haight involved pool, chai tea, martinis, an anarchist bookstore, hard ciders, thrift shops, craft shops, new boots (for both of us), a new dress, and more cider.  Oh, and, no big deal–Clayton getting scouted for a Levi’s commercial.  Yeah, they even called him back yesterday (again, taking me a while to write this).  True, the callback was at a hotel in SF in two hours from the time they called, so obviously it didn’t happen, but still, it was cool.

After naps and more wine with our hosts, we went to hear live Irish music at a pub near where we were staying.  It was awesome.  Owned and tended by a husband and wife duo from Ireland, the conversation was lively and the beer was strong and plentiful (yay, Guinness!).

Saturday began with the most crowded bus ride I’ve ever taken.  Towards the end of it, Clayton was seated and I was standing over him, much to the delight of two women nearby.  “Girl, yeah!  Yeah, girl!  You put them big ol’  things right in his FACE, girl!”  I grinned.  “It’s our anniversary.”  “Yeah, girl, you know that’s right!  You make him remember why he married you!  Yeah!”  I couldn’t help but think lack of oxygen on a crowded bus thanks to my ample bosom wasn’t exactly why Clayton married me, but still.  The encouragement was nice.

Eventually, the commotion grew to be to much for us, and we wedged our way off the bus and started walking.  And walking.  And walking.   Good exercise, but I would conservatively estimate that 90% of the area covered during our walk smelled strongly of pee.  We did get to see a woman standing up, asleep, with her head resting on the top of a garbage can, though, so that was uplifting.

We finally, after stopping at a coffee shop and then a Goodwill (I needed another floppy hat) we finally made it to Gracias Madre.   Oh my vegan god.  (#govegan.)

Divine.

Not only was the food some of the best I’ve ever eaten, the atmosphere was enchanting.  The face of Gracias Madre looks to be another Mission Street hole-in-the-wall (note:  nothing wrong with MSHITWs) but the inside of the structure is spacious and reminiscent of a calm Spanish hacienda (or what I imagine a calm Spanish hacienda to be like, anyway).  With fresh farm-to-table food and a sunny, open  dining room, GM was worth every step we took to get there.

Flushed and full of delicious life, we re-entered the real world to go sort out my mistake.  Being the Virgo I am, I’d purchased our tickets to Alcatraz prior to our arrival to SF.  That morning, though, I discovered that, rather than buying seats on a cruise on Monday, April 15th I had mistakenly bought them for Monday, April 8th.  Which did us no good at all.

Fortunately, the nice folks at the Alcatraz tour company let us do standby!   SUPER nice of them.  I can’t say that all the rich food and two habanero pineapple margaritas made for a particularly pleasant ride over, but once we got there it was totally worth it.   I hadn’t been to Alcatraz since I was a kid, and Clayton had never been, and both of us felt appropriately chilled (except for when we saw the family of Canadian Geese.  AWWW!  Nesting season.  SO cute!).

The National Park Service does a fantastic job with the tour, providing audio narration read by former guards and inmates.  The end of the tour featured an exhibit about rehabilitated murdered, complete with a section for feedback that was clearly modeled after a YouTube comments section.  The biggest thing I took away from Alcatraz, though, were that the cells were still bigger than the cages in factory farms, and that what we do to the worst among our own kind is STILL better than we treat other species.  #govegan

Actually, this is way nicer than what animals in factory farms get. #goveganalready

After Alcatraz we took the bus over to the Tenderloin.  Another journey well worth it.  Golden Era Vegan Restaurant  was calm, quick, inexpensive, and the food was delicious.  Except the “vegan lamb.”  That was actually kind of gross.  Tough and salty.  New, though, so that’s good. #govegan!

Tired from a day of exploration, we retreated to our Airbnb oasis to watch Animal Factory.  It’s a pretty great movie.  You should watch it.

Sunday was another beautiful day.  We bussed it over to the Mission District so Clayton could experience the rapture that is a Mission Street Burrito, and then went to a street fair where Kristal said she’d be tabling.  We failed to find Kristal, but we did meet up with our friend Rebecca.  We also saw some women stacking a bearded dragon on a tortoise, but that is neither here nor there, though it should be noted that neither animal seemed to mind the stacking.

Driving with Rebecca is an adventure in and of itself, but after a few nail biting minutes we arrived at the Sutro Bath House remains, and the glorious Pacific Ocean.   It was windy.

Windy and romantic!

We also visited the camera obscura, which was, as expected, amazing, and capped off our Rebecca time with a late and leisurely lunch at  another Supreme Master vegetarian house.  It’s part of our campaign to get Rebecca to renounce meat.  (Did I mention #govegan?)

After the restaurant, Rebecca left us and we headed back through Golden Gate park to the De Young Museum.  Walking though the well-manicured park peppered with carefree people listening to the dulcimer tones of a classical guitar duo was like stepping into the movie-world of Aeon Flux, without any sinister dystopian implications, of course.

Gorgeous.

The De Young was breathtaking.  I could have wandered for hours.  Unfortunately, we arrived at 4:00 and the museum closed at 5:15.  Thus begun the fastest museum tour I’ve ever experienced.  The good news?  They let you take pictures! (Of everything but the special exhibit.  Which was Girl With A Pearl Earring.   I actually teared up looking at that painting.  So mysterious.  So perfect.)  I took roughly 7,000 photos of everything else, though!  Want to see some?  I’ll take silence as a yes!

Cool bullet castle!

This lady, immortalized!

 

 

Crazy throne thing!  

Sorry about the weird formatting.  Believe it or not, the above is try number several, and it took me 15 minutes to get even that, so there ya go.

After the whirlwind but totally awesome flight through the De Young, we strolled though the verdant and vibrant park, pausing to tip and listen to the guitarists.  Sigh.  Bliss.

Our eventual destination was Haight Street, where we stopped for a cider at a Milk Bar (intentionally evoking the Clockwork Orange connection) for cider and rest.  There was a lonely musician being largely ignored on stage, and cameras everywhere, which the bartender informed us that the owner used to keep tabs on his bar from home.   Oh, and Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure was playing.  Despite that, we left after one drink to explore Amoeba Records.  We finished the day with picnic foods, wine, and movies at our Airbnb.

Monday we met Phil.  Who’s Phil, you’re probably wondering (and rightly so).  Phil was actually going to be staying with us the day we returned from San Fransisco.  Yup, another Airbnb connection.  Airbnb rules.  Phil took us to this little diner in the mission that serves vegan seitan sandwiches and vegan Guinness shakes.  #govegan and #awesome!  After some great food and conversation, we took our leave of Phil and went back to Pier 39.  The plan was to ride across the Golden Gate Bridge.  The wind had other ideas.  No friggin’ way were we riding a bike at all what with all the gusting and bellowing Mother Nature was doing, much less across a damn bridge.  We settled for chocolate at Ghirardelli and wine tasting at Wattle Creek Winery.  The wine was good, the server was a racist dick.

The wind had taken a five minute breather for this shot.

Wandering around the Pier 39 area, we were about to cross in to said Pier proper when we hear, “Clayton!  Oh my gosh!!!  I can’t believe I’m seeing you here!”  In a trip filled with synchronicity, we were graced with yet another happy coincidence.  Clayton’s mom’s friend Lou was in town for a registrars conference, and was taking a break to explore the Pier.  Life is harmonious sometimes.

One last stop at a bar with beautiful 1920s decor and bored, surly servers and it was time to go back for the night.  We had an early flight.

And thus concludes San Fransisco new!   Thanks for reading!  Since almost two weeks have passed since our return, I’m going to blitz some of the interim new.

Tried:  Daiya Swiss Slices.  BEST. THING. EVER.

Watched:  Argo.  Did not like it.  Also watched:  I AM.  LOVED it!

Tried:  New Gym’s pool.   Love that, too.

Tried:  New wines.  I probably loved them all, too.

Visited:  Vie de Boheme wine shop.  (Thanks for the Groupon, Matt and Natalie!) Tried pineapple champagne.  Loved it!

Experienced:  Two days of jury duty selection.  Result?  I’ll be spending three days next week hearing a case.  Details to follow after the trial is over.

Read:  Finally started Game of Thrones.  The book is even better than the show, and the show is pretty gd fantastic.

Tonight:  Going to Rodriguez!!!  Got tickets off Craigslist.  I can’t wait!!!  Newness rules.

See you soon!

 

 

Sunny beaches, Siam history, and Michael Jackson- Plus travel observations, just for you! Whoo!

Here are some conclusions I’ve reached about traveling during our thaime in Thailand (get it? Thaimae? HAHAHA!)  Bear in mind these are the observations of a green traveler, and for everything I’ve learned, there’s 100 more things to learn still.  I’m publishing this as much for my sake as anyone else’s, so next trip we can look back and possibly do things a little better (read: not have to ask long-suffering family members rush to the bank every five minutes).  I hope my experiences and lack thereof can maybe help those of you who want to travel but have yet to be able perhaps make decisions that will make for a richer trip.  Bon voyage!

• Always always always take more money.  We’ve budgeted, eaten in, and walked quite a bit, but Jared’s Facebook comment made a really good point.  The locals depend on tourism income.  It’s a double bonus to enjoy one’s trip a little more while infusing the local economy with cash.  Plus, wherever you may be, it could very well be the only time you’re there (we are coming back to Phuket, dammit!).  Why not make the most of it?  Live it up!
• Learn to ride a motorbike.  Motorbikes are a popular mode of transport in countries where gas is expensive and roads are narrow.  If we’d known how to do this, we could have traveled all over the island for pennies.  Next trip, I’ll have taken the PCC course.
• Be able to engage in at least rudimentary levels of communication.  Even though English is spoken in many places, still, and especially if you’re vegan like we are, being able to converse in the language of the country your visiting would make for a richer experience.
• The better your health, the better your trip (a philosophy applicable to everyday life, too).   Being able to do certain things (parasailing, for example) one must be in a certain weight class.  Additionally, a healthy body means being able to partake in hiking and swimming and zip lining and all sorts of fun and rewarding activities.
• Regardless of how much you’ve researched; research more, especially the geography.  I had really wanted to go to national park that is in a different province entirely.
• For us, I think our next trip we’ll put a 3-day/2-night cap on each place.  I had hoped for at least surface scratching cultural immersion, but, in hindsight, I think I’d like to see more of the country.  When we go to South America, we’ll do just that.  Of course, this depends on your style of travel preference.  If lying by the pool with a cocktail is all you want to do then of course, park it at a resort and bottoms up!
• Listen to your friends that have gone before you.  I was told-repeatedly-that there were other parts of Thailand that were better than Bangkok.  Again, I’m really glad I got to see such a famous and teeming city, but it would have been cool to check out Northern Thailand, especially Chiang Mai.
• When shopping, don’t buy from the first stall in the row.  Browse first.  The first stall has proven to be the most expensive every time we’ve shopped.
• Find out the local tipping customs.  I have the feeling we’ve been tipping too much or too little at every turn.
• (Saturday September 15, 2012) We met our first fellow Americans since reaching Thailand, and they had apparently hired a local guide.  They said the massages they got were cheap and wonderful, the boat tour was 1/10 of the cost our hotel in Bangkok said it would be, and they’d been paying only metered price for cabs.

I’m sure I think of more, but that’s it for now.  Time to rouse my husband and begin our last day in Phuket (sniff!).  Until next time!

Phuket…lovely Phuket.

Our last day in our tropical paradise was splendid and a fitting farewell, indeed.  A lazy start to the day proved sensible:  by the time check out came around, the rain had almost stopped.  We had breakfast at a new Indian restaurant, with Naan and Dahl, and then back to the Diamond for one last dip.  We’d both loved the water slide, and one last run down was too much of a treat to pass up.

Air drying in the Phuket sun, we procured a ride at the lobby:  1000B for a round trip ride to the Butterfly Gardens.

The gardens were spectacular.   The exhibit starts with a woman offering green tea, and whisking visitors over to the admission counter. We were given heart-shaped teaspoon-sized cups of butterfly food, as well as purchasing a bag of fish food for 20B, entered the first wing of the museum, juggling cups and cameras and fish food.

There were round displays of live spiders everywhere.  Clayton was almost visibly shaking.  (I just read that last sentence to Clayton, to which he replied, “Great, so far you’ve got me checking out dudes, quivering in fear, and getting puked on.  Why don’t you mention the underwear, too?”  So I will-but later.  Keep reading for more on that!) I’ve mentioned Clayton’s feelings about spiders before, and they aren’t endearing ones.  Safely enclosed in thick plastic, though, and my husband managed to do just fine.  (“Jesus, Roz!  You going to talk about my Dr. Fresh Dallies pink toothbrush in your blog, too?”  “I wasn’t going to until you mentioned it, honey!”)

EEE!

Visiting the butterfly gardens was one of my favorite excursions we’ve had-maybe not as fun as say, the speedboat, but it’s satisfying to learn new things while promoting conservation.  Plus, it’s hard not to feel delicate and graceful when you have butterflies perched on your shoulder (or camera, as the case may be). They ate bananas right from Clayton’s hand!

After the gardens, we were taken back to Karon Beach.  Our driver was blasting LMFAO.  At least I think it was LMFAO-there was a lot of that “zheerh!” noise that’s in that Party Rock Anthem song.   Clayton was losing patience.  “I hate that sound, dude.  It’s arrogance in sound form.”

Fortunately, Phuket Town and Karon beach are fairly close (refer to map in previous blog post if necessary!) and we survived the LMFAO onslaught, tipped our driver, and walked over to Kata Beach.

We hadn’t been to Kata Beach yet.  Of course it was beautiful.  By this time the rain had dissipated entirely, and the sun shone down on the clean white sands.  The waves crashed in pools of foamy emerald surf.  Sigh.

Kata Beach is a little bigger than Karon, more populated, with several vendors and more beach chairs (almost all full when we were there).   Still super relaxing, and, remembering Spicy’s counsel, we opened our wallets and bought a couple of Chang beers to enjoy on our rented chairs. Clayton played in the surf while I tried to eavesdrop on the conversation next to me.  Since the people having said conversation were Russian I failed miserably to catch word one.

Thailand is FULL of Russian tourists.  I’ll relay what we were told as to why in just moments.  Stay tuned!  Russian and underwear info looms happily on the horizon!

Our latest cash infusion had come from Hollis with instructions to “Get another one of those blue drinks in the lady glass!” which was a directive I had NO problem following.  The little alley bar we’d gone to was just around the corner.  The two girls saw us coming and rushed to pull out chairs. (Did I mention in a previous blog that this is a family business, where the job of the pretty daughters is to usher tourists in while their mother or aunt makes the drinks?  It is an efficient operation.)

I ordered another “Swimming Pool” (the same yummy blue rum drink I’d had previously) and we chatted with the Aunt-Phone.  “My name is Phone!  Like the word for rain.”  Sweet!  Another new word!  We know, like, six now!   Phone explained that there were many Russian tourists because the Thai and Russian governments have an agreement that citizens from either country can travel to the other country for three whole months without a visa.  Phone hadn’t visited Russia, but the Russians had visited Phuket, in droves.

At this point in our conversation something dawned on Phone.  She pulled me in for a conspiratorial whisper.  “Madame!  Madame!” she said breathlessly, “Your husband!  He look just like…Michael Jackson!”  Phone was clearly triumphant in her observation and I didn’t want to burst her bubble that obviously Clayton and Michael Jackson were practically twins, I mean, why do you think I was attracted to him in the first place, right?  Dude, they’re doppelgängers!

“May I tell my husband?” I asked Phone as we laughed together about this new revelation.  “Ok, ok!  You tell him!”

When Clayton received this by now commonplace news he played right along, clutching his stomach in laughter and even striking a vampy pose.  Phone was beside herself with delight.

We could chatted with Phone all night, but our stomachs were growling and our time in paradise waning.  Back to the restaurant across from the Diamond Cottage (affordable and veg-comprehensive!) and then it was off to the Dinosaur Golf course for a round of mini-golf.

The Dinosaur golf course was hot and tropical enough one could almost imagine being in the Paleolithic era and golfing was ridiculously fun.  We wanted to grab a beer at the Dino Bar, where the servers all good-naturedly sported Flintstones costumes, but prices were double what they were elsewhere, so it was one last Pina Colada at the Diamond Cottage, and then off to Phuket International.

Thankfully, out driver wasn’t blasting LMFAO.

Next day-Saturday September 14, 2012 and we were back in Bangkok.  This time, we were less intimidated.

We’re running out of clean clothes, and I popped outside to buy Clayton some clean underwear and socks before we started our day.  I bought a 3-pack of briefs, “For man!” assured the gentlemen behind the counter, and delivered them to Clayton before heading back out to investigate the Siam show and check my email.  I’m a compulsive email checker, I’ll admit it.

When I returned to the room, Clayton was awaiting me in the tightest underwear I’d ever seen.  “What the hell, Roz?” I could barely wheeze through my laughter, “They say XL! And I was told they were for man!” Finally, Clayton accepted the ass-clutching briefs and we were on our way.

Yesterday was a calm day, with more shopping at the MBK and a trip to Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum.

AAA! Shopping!

Clayton had never been to a wax museum, and I felt it high time that changed.  There was even a Michael Jackson statue!  The resemblance really IS uncanny.

Twins!

Seriously, though, if I had to pick a figure Clayton most resembled, it would, sadly, be Nicholas Cage, at least in wax form.  See for yourself!  Scary, huh?

Yikes.

Procuring a tuk-tuk, we went back to the hotel to get ready for Siam Niramit show, a “Journey to the Enchanted Kingdom of Siam” and the “Greatest Show in Thailand!” I had been assured that this was a “people only show,” NO animals involved, and a quick perusing of the Siam Niramit show website seemed to validate that.  I didn’t look at every tab of the page, but there were no elephants or any other animal on the homepage.

Our transportation was late.  I was pissed.  I hadn’t really wanted to take to tour transport anyway, but had been rather pushed into it, and now they were late and Clayton and I had to sit in separate sections of the van.  Geez, even typing that seems whiny as hell, and the drive to the show certainly made me feel like a spoiled petulant child.

We were in a part of Bangkok Clayton and I hadn’t seen yet, and, going under a series of bridges, we passed by a shanty town of shacks on stilts, precariously built directly over the river and all constructed of pieces of corrugated tin.  Oddly enough, some of the shacks had satellite dishes perched on the roof.

Nothing like seeing a riverside slum to really put all your problems into perspective, and my anger quickly turned to shame.

We arrived at the show, and were escorted upstairs to an amazing buffet style dinner with a clearly marked veggie section!  We dined on curry and rice, saving room for dessert. The dessert bar was puzzling.  There was some sort of warm coconut pudding with coconut milk, crushed ice, and black cherry jelly. I had no idea what to do with all this, until a little man from Singapore (I know this because he immediately announced, “I from Singapore! Where you from?”) explained to me that the jelly paired with the rice, and the two coconut dishes went together.  By this time I’d already combined everything.  No matter.  It was still delicious.  However, this gastronomic strategy clearly didn’t resonate with my Singaporean friend, who took it upon himself to make not one, but TWO trips back to the dessert bar for us.  It was a lovely gesture, but those of you who have been looking at photos from our trip know that the last thing I need is a triple-threat dessert bar bonanza.

Still, his face was so eager and his thumbs-up sign so firm and erect (stop your giggling, I’m referring to his thumb) that we ate every last bite so as not to disappoint.  Fortunately Clayton was more than willing to help and that man can eat anything he wants and still look like Michael Jackson.

After dinner (which, in addition to being tasty and filling, came with dancers as entertainment) we went out to the courtyard area in front of the theatre and were confronted by…two elephants.  Damn tour people.  “They have such a hard time with the truth, they should call it Lie-land,” I grumbled.  Boo-ya! You’ve been punned, people.

We dropped 150B feeding the elephants, which did not a damn thing to assuage our guilt at being there. The handler kept squeezing the female elephant’s pendulous nipples whenever she seemed less than happy to have tourists run up and smack her, then squeal in mock-fear and step back, flash bulbs popping (figuratively of, course, does anyone still even have a bulb on their camera) all the while.

“Maybe they’re just there initially, kind-of a crowd warm up, like these dancers with the giant heads,” we thought hopefully.  Nope.  First act of the show, there were the elephants.  They appeared one more time, and then, after the show as we were waiting for our van, we saw them being led through the parking lot full of noise and fumes.   The show was otherwise outstanding, but I really didn’t like the elephant aspect (in case you haven’t figured that out) and that cast a pall on my objective assessment of the other parts of the show.

If you’re wondering why the captivity of these elephants bothered me more that the elephants on Phuket, it’s because at least those elephants were in their natural environment.  All throughout our elephant ride, Lucky kept sneaking big trunkful’s of leaves, and after his duty was done, he went back to munching contentedly on a big pile of leaves, as he had been when we arrived.

I’m not moralizing here.  I’m glad we went to the show.  It was a stunning display of traditional Thai culture, lushly depicted and beautifully executed.  Maybe the elephants are leading rich, full, and happy lives.  Maybe the service they provide is invaluable.  To reference Total Recall (THE ORIGINAL, DAMMIT) again:  The one thing that is the same wherever you go is…you.  I can’t help being me.  And to me, with the lens of my Portland Oregon vision firmly in place, elephants-as-entertainment is something that is inherently troubling.  Maybe if I was from Thailand I’d feel differently.  Point being, I’m not judging, just sharing my observations.  Take ‘em or leave ‘em, judge me or don’t.  Stop reading if you have to (like that’s even an option, right?  Captivating writing like this has you GLUED to your screen!)

Cameras weren’t allowed in the theater, so I took notes.  I will relate some of those later.  For now, let me say if you’re in Bangkok and want to see a stunning depiction of the history of Siam via interpretive dance and lavish costume (complete with the Guinness-certified “World’s Highest Stage”) go to this show.  It really is breathtaking in size and grandeur.  Unless seeing elephants in a noisy theater and crowded parking lot unsettles you a bit, in which case, save your money.

Like giant heads? See this show!

UPDATE ON THE SHOW FROM THE VOICE OF A GUEST BLOGGER:  EVERYBODY WAVE HELLO TO CLAYTON! For those of you who don’t know, I am madly in love with my husband.  All resemblance to Michael Jackson and Nicholas Cage aside (seriously, let’s forget both of those comparisons, stat) Clayton helps keep me grounded during those times I’m dangerously close to flying away on my moral high horse.  This show may have been one of those times. Here’s what Clayton (correctly) observed about the performance: “Rather than the curtain opening to a sad and maltreated lone elephant staring at us grimly for an hour and half while being booed at and pelted with rotten fruit, the show was a demonstration of theater I didn’t think possible until last night.  Yes, there was an elephant, and frankly, it was rad.  The damn thing walked down the theater aisle!  It was awesome! (I don’t think it was all that awesome.  -Roz)  Dammit!  Clayton dictated an amazing description, about the set changes, the rain pouring into an onstage river, and a the vivid depiction of a sinful afterlife.  Then I lost my connection and the whole update.  DAMMIT.  If Clayton will re-dictate later, I’ll post it.  Let’s hope so-my husband is funnier than I am, especially when it comes to describing scenes of hell.  He becomes very animated.  Fingers crossed!

It’s off to Phanom Rung.  Our adventures our drawing to a close.  I’ll keep blogging, though, ‘til my year of the new is done-even if trying a new melon from the Whole Foods on Burnside doesn’t quite measure up to feeding a Macaque on Phi-Phi island, by God, I will keep a’ blogging.  Lucky you!  See you next time!

September 10, 2012. Monday…Day 59. Almost two months of new, neat!!

Ah, another 4 am journal entry.  No wonder I always have such giant circles under my eyes, damn!

Anyhoo, I’ll see if I can’t wrap up my Bangkok recollections before the beauty of Phuket melts away all memory.  Where was I?  Right.  The underage porn vendor.

We continued to walk down the strip of vendors, until deciding to call it good and head back towards the palace.  We went to a marble temple, the name of which escapes me at the moment (I’m going to chalk that up to Phuket) and paused to watched dancers in traditional Thai dress.  The dancers actually didn’t appear to appreciate being watched, which begs the question why they were performing in a public place, while dressed to the nines, traditional Thai style, but, really, who am I to judge?  So, a quick pit stop and we’d be on our way. The bathrooms at this temple, the equivalent of public restrooms, we equipped with a bidet but no TP.  Even taking a leak is different here.

The area was much busier than the last time we’d visited, and after shopping some more (see that monkey penis in the last entry?  We bought like five of those.  And a penis…with a penis!  Down the rabbit hole to the meta with that little sculpture. ) we decided we were done for the day.

My friend Wick, upon learning we were going to Thailand, recommended we get out of Bangkok immediately.  Since we’d bought a package that included a room in Bangkok for two weeks, I wanted to stay there a few days (we still have our room there, as a matter of fact-it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever paid for three places at once, if you count our Oregon home, too) and experience the city.  And experience is the word for it.  Bangkok makes Quito look glamorous.

Going to a place like Bangkok is something everyone should experience.  It opens one’s eyes to another world on the same planet.  It is humbling and terrifying and beautiful.  I’m so grateful I had the opportunity to have these experiences and to have shared them with my wonderful husband.  I’m looking forward to our last two days in Bangkok when we’re going to take a river cruise, go to a show, and finish our shopping.

That being said, my advice to other travelers mirrors Wick’s.  Stay in Bangkok for a day or two, and then bolt.  Wick likes Chiang Mai.  Since I haven’t been there I obviously can’t recommend it, but I can say that after the crush of humanity in Bangkok , Phuket is a welcome change.  Even with a ridiculously pink sunburn (even with SPF 55 the sun at the Equator cooked our pale Oregonian bodies) my skin already looks better.  There’s so much pollution in Bangkok I started breaking out the second day we were there.

Also, the locals in Phuket seem happier.  There are tuk-tuks and tailors (seriously, what is it with the textile industry here?  There is actually a textile museum on the grounds of the Grand Palace that I really wanted to go to, but of course we couldn’t find our damn tickets until after we returned to our hotel) but the way they approach is more relaxed, more of an offer than a desperate demand.

Of course, how could one NOT be happy living here?

Last night we ate an Indian restaurant where I had a glass of REAL wine!  We played ping pong, swam in the pool twice, and the ocean once.  We lay on the beach.  We sipped Pina Coladas.  I feel decadent as hell.

This is the first night since I’ve gotten here that I haven’t woken up feeling guilty for leaving our animals, and hoping they’re okay.  (There was also, in Bangkok, some sort of metal banging in the street every night which sounded like it was just below our room, which was impossible since our room was on the 18^th floor, so I can only imagine what was happening hundreds of feet below.)  Clayton and I spent most of yesterday laughing.  We actually played hide-and-seek in the two-tiered pool.  Clayton kept repeating, “I’m so happy!  I feel like a little kid!  I love this!”  Seeing my husband so gleeful fills me with an almost impossible joy.  I want to move here.

More tomorrow-same time, same place.  I’m fulfilling another lifelong dream today:  snorkeling with tropical fish.  I am so grateful for this whole trip, and to all of you who helped make it possible.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I was preparing to post what you just read when I logged on to Facebook to see if there were any comments or questions I could address, and saw this from my friend Jared:

Hey Roz. Glad you’re liking Phuket. I gotta say though, after reading your blog it made me kinda sad that you traveled all the way to Bangkok and did not embrace it. Believe me I know exactly what you’re talking about with the air of desperation, unsettling feeling and people constantly in your face. I’ve been to my share of gigantic third world cities and small villages. I’ve seen half dead children in the streets of Cairo, AIDs ridden women selling their body for $2 without a condom in Honduras, and miles of slums falling apart in Port of Spain Trinidad. And have also been accosted to no end by countless people relentlessly hawking everything from trinkets to sex. But my point is that you’re not home anymore. The outside foreign world is a much different place. You have to learn to embrace the culture, people and their way of life, all while chalking off the negative or frustrating times as life lessons and experiences. This not only let’s you relax and enjoy your culture shock but also makes you look at your own life and really appreciate everything you have and realize how lucky you are to have it. And to cure the unsettling feeling of all the desperation around you, go out, talk to the people, relax and enjoy helping the local people out, not Starbucks. Don’t look at paying a few dollars for dried up corn as being ripped off, look at it as helping a poor person feed themselves and family. And paying $5 for a tuk tuk ride in Bangkok is not getting scammed. Sure the locals and seasoned Bangkok people may pay one tenth that, but that’s not how that driver feeds his kids, it’s the tourists, that’s their way of making a living. They depend on travelers. And don’t forget their perception of us is much different then our own. Sure where we come from we’re poor, but to them we are wealthy and extremely privileged. Especially if their first impression is walking out of a resort that borders their slum. I’m not getting on you for staying there, I’m just saying if it makes you feel uncomfortable spend more time researching and stay at a family run small comfortable hotel. Honestly from all my stays I’ve learned that you get much better food, experiences and conversations at them. Anyways, I hope this doesn’t come off as me ripping on you or acting high and mighty, I’m just extremely passionate about the idea that everyone should travel the world and embrace and learn from it, and of course I really want you to enjoy your time abroad. Sometimes the most uncomfortable culture shock at the time turns out to be one of your favorite experiences in the long run. Love and miss you Roz! Happy Birthday and hope to see you soon! Xoxo Jared

I feel I should perhaps better explain that in no way I’m I judging or criticizing the culture or people of Bangkok.  The whole reason I wanted to travel here is to get outside my comfort zone, and that we have done, in spades.  Seeing the world does indeed make for a great appreciation of the life I have, an appreciation I feel daily no matter where I am but I have felt tenfold since traveling here. We have embraced every moment of being here.   It seems that in an attempt to be humorous (notice I said “attempt”) some of the gratitude I so deeply feel is lost in translation.

This trip is hopefully our first of many, and, as our journey through life on and around this beautiful world continues, we’ll continue to grow, and learn.  Next time I travel, we certainly will book at a local hotel.  For our first time out in the world, though, I did want to have some of the comforts of home, soft and American as that may be.  I understand the cultural perception is different, of course.  I told Clayton next place we go (we’re aiming for Bolivia in 2014) we need to study more of the culture and language.  Again, it’s a learning experience.  Keep those comments coming, people!  I value your feedback.  And, I’m super psyched to know that my blog readership has reached the double digits!  Roz’s New Thing just blew up.