Thursday, February 12, 2009

arrival in paradise

MARCH 1, 2006: We encountered only slight confusion in the Bangkok airport. For such a big city the airport seems awfully small. Thankfully, we didn’t do ten laps around the terminal like last time. On this trip, we knew how to get to the domestic terminal. I hit J a few times in the ankle with our rolling luggage cart. This did not make him happy.

We were not greeted by an ocean of smiling faces this time and we didn’t exactly feel welcome. We eventually boarded our small plane bound for Phuket for the last leg of our journey. Again, we were greeted by very unhappy faces at the Phuket immigration checkpoint. The Phuket Airport was complete madness. In order to get to the parking lot to find our ride, we had to run the gauntlet of taxi drivers waiting for other passengers. We finally found Phil who had borrowed a friend’s truck and he drove us to our rental house.

A giant (seriously GIANT) spider was waiting for me as we walked into the bedroom. Welcome to Phuket! As expected, we had to hurry and change out of our nasty travel clothes and rush off to dinner. I was extremely tired and dirty and cranky and hot. I just wanted to sleep for twenty-four hours, undisturbed.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Monday, January 12, 2009

Thursday, January 8, 2009

the big idea

A few weeks after I turned thirty, our house officially sold and we found ourselves living in a one-bedroom rental apartment roughly the size of our old living room. It was a deliberate choice. It was part of a plan or at least an idea.

I was aware that what we were planning was not unique: quitting our jobs, selling our house-load of possessions and traveling to another country for an extended period of time was not a new concept. But since I am not particularly daring, this plan felt like a Really. Big. Deal.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Monday, December 15, 2008

adventure build-up

I am not an adventurous person. I do not possess an intrepid spirit. Anyone who knows me even a little can tell you I'm not particularly daring. I am risk-averse and timid. My idea of being rebellious is throwing a glass bottle in the garbage instead of recycling it. Seriously.

I remember all the great books and movies from my childhood seemed to preach the intense benefit of travel and a great adventure. I remember feeling that all humans were supposed to seek out adventure, to really crave it. I guess I bought into that idea and always felt a gnawing pressure to do something bold in life, something risky – but I could never bring myself to break away from the norm.

In regard to taking the giant leap and moving to Thailand for a while, my best friend (who is always honest in that best-friend sort of way) said, "This is you we're talking about, remember?"