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.

sidecar monk

on an island in thailand

There is a modest house in the jungle on an island in Thailand, flanked on one side by a rubber plantation and by a drunken Nazi neighbor on the other (don’t ask). In that house, for seven months (the blink of an eye), I learned to live life at a snail’s pace and to sink further into myself; dwelling, nesting and escaping.

I can’t make my travel story out to be something that it wasn't... it wasn't about becoming infinitely brave or anything grand or noble. But I can make my travel story out to be exactly what it was: me, a fairly wimpy girl, staying in a foreign country with no job, no direction, no great wealth... it was a personal study in escapism.

there is a house in the jungle...

...and it was lovely at first

it began in 2006