We Made it

I am feeling very loopy right now. My circadian rhythms have gone bonkers. It's one in the afternoon here, but it's eleven in the evening back in California.

We arrived at Kao Sahn Road, the madcap backpacker's ghetto, at about two-thirty in the morning. Because it was noon at home, we weren't sleepy enough to pay extra for a room that night, and so we sat around eating weird deep fried won tons wraped around American cheese, tofu soup, and rum and super-sweet cokes. We hung out with our waiter and thought he was a swell guy until he threatened me with a knife---jokingly, of course, ha ha, yeah--- and then overcharged us. At six in the morning Thai time, four in the afternoon Cali-time, we got a room and slept until nine. Now, because it's bedtime at home, our bodies are winding down, protesting the sunlight.

So my writing isn't at its best, but damn if I'm going to pimp this thing out and not write in it like mad. So here's some bits and pieces of our experience so far.

The Plane

Although I have flown many times, I have never flown west from California. I thought immediately after takeoff it would be sea forever, but I forgot about the strange topography of the coastline around LA. Going west from LAX meant following an outcrop of coastline that I'd usually thought of as north. After the mountains around Malibu, there came a flat valley unfurling out to sea, patchworked by crops. A nice surprise: it was Oxnard, my hometown, something I haven't seen by air in my memorable memory.

We flew on EVA, the Taiwanese airline with the highest safety rating.

The airplane kept feeding us dinner. I had requested special vegetarian meals upon booking the tickets, and that meant steamed vegetables and rice. Over and over. They woke us up in the middle of the night to feed us. Nearly everyone on the plane would be slumbering peacefully, and then the flight attendants would flick on all the lights. Time for another dinner!

The sunset chased us all the way to Taiwan, our transfer. Daylight was remarkably long. When the sunset caught up with us, it was a brilliant strip of color along the horizon, brightening and then fading with night. The flight attendants requested we keep our windows closed, but periodically I'd risk a peek to see what the day was doing. "Ocean, huh?" Bryson joked every time, as if there was anything else. I never knew how vast the Pacific was until I flew over it.

The Airport

Flying red-eye was a great idea. Bryson kept on about the tumultuous airport lobby, packed with tourists and taxi drivers herding you into their tuk-tuks. However, upon our arrival there the place was nearly empty. We exchanged ourselves some greenbacks for a little baht. After nearly being double-charged, we found ourselves a safe taxi to Kao Sahn road.

Bangkok

Driving through Bangkok at night was much like driving through San Jose in Costa Rica, except for the swirly Thai letters on everything. It's the loveliest language I've ever seen, although it somehow reminds me of ebola.



As I mentioned above, we weathered out the night in our hostel bar/restaurant. But this morning we had the chance to walk around. Our hostel is right on the corner of Kao Sahn road and the real Thai world. Walk one way and it's ultimate backpackersville, peopled by grungy western kids in flip flops, dreadlocks, headrags, and baggy Thai pants. Walk the other and it's urban Bangkok, filled with Thai people, peddling an immense variety of unrecognizable food, nearly running each other down in taxis and tuk-tuks, yelling, laughing, going about their everyday business.

Back in California, I had mistakenly ordered contact lenses pf the wrong prescription for my left eye, and thus I came to Thailand with only one spare. The one in my eye I had already worn twice as long as recommended. Luckily, Bangkok had everything, and everything is absurdly cheap. A block from out hostel, I passed at least four eye shops advertising contacts, and the one I went into had my prescription right there. I bought two monthlies for about two-fifty each. As in two dollars and fifty cents. I have one on now, and Thailand is bright and beautiful and deliciously clear.

We had lunch on Kao Sahn Road, in a cafe that was a jungle of dark wooden beams. It was full of kittens. They were all the docked-tail type, minxes or manxes, and looked like kitty-bunny hybrids.

Bryson ordered Pad Thai, a dish which San Diego is overrun with. However, it was honestly the best I'd ever had. Nothing's like cultural dining in the place of origin. I had these thick pancakes with hot pineapples and bananas cooked right inside. How come Americans never think of that? No dish was over a dollar fifty, and bottles of water are usually around fifteen cents. It's all I can do to keep from shopping, but anything I buy I have to lug on my back for a month.

And. . .

The bathrooms have no toilet paper. It's all about keeping a couple napkins in your pocket.

Tomorrow we'll be headed to the first of the islands: Ko Chang. It's the second biggest after Phuket but not nearly as touristy, which is exactly how we like it. My last backpacking trip was much more rigid in its itinerary-- it had to be, since we were visiting six countries--but this one's so quiveringly open-ended. How exciting.