The last leg(s)

    I just spent some time meandering around Thailand and Cambodia. I have really missed getting on a plane and going somewhere…different. I planned this trip in 2020, but we all know how that worked out. The timing for this trip ended up working well. Due to fairly strict requirements for entry and mandatory mask wearing,

                                               Everyone was wearing a mask, everywhere. Even this guy.

it was remarkably quiet. That may put off some tourists interested in the night life, but I’m an early to bed early to rise kind of guy, so I was never into that scene. I started off in Bangkok, got my physical and a few things done in the miracle that is Bumrungrad Hospital. Being in Bumrungrad feels like a 5 star hotel. The physical is like a well oiled machine, station to station and then a nice buffet after tests are done. You get to see a doctor to review the results of said tests right after your meal. If you need any follow up appointments with specialists, you can likely get them at Bumrungrad, that day. I had two sebaceous cysts on my head and during the review with my physician I mentioned them. She said, “Oh, you have to go to surgery for that. They’re on the 15th floor. Would you like to see someone about that now?” And just like that, I saw another doctor who felt the bumps on my head and asked if I had time to get them taken out. They did a price work up, told me how much it would cost (mine was covered by insurance, but think of that - told the price before the procedure!) Bing bang boom. Out. Bumrungrad. Clean, modern, efficient, transparent pricing - everything US healthcare is not, which is why I’ll continue to return there for health care.

Bumrungrad food experience - hospital food I can get behind.

Like a 5 star hotel. I like how the guards salute and click their heels when you’re crossing.

Everybody gets temp checked upon entry.

     Cambodia was a delight as well, I’ve been to Angkor Wat twice before, and this was truly a once in a lifetime experience because there were so few people there. It felt like I was the only one wandering around some of those temples because, well, I was. Ta Prohm is famous for the trees that grew over the temple. There used to be lines of people waiting to get their picture taken there, this time, there were a few tourists wandering around but some of the lesser known temples were absolutely empty.

It was a surreal experience. I think the only downside about Cambodia was the COVID test on entry. Everyone had to have a rapid PCR test done maybe due to having to test an entire plane at once, they were less than

                                                          I did not try this beer in Cambodia.

gentle when administering the brain stab. I’ve had a LOT of PCR tests, and maybe because the Khmer’s have some experience in torture, that one was the worst. 

     After 10 days cycling around Chiang Mai, I spent some more time at Bumrungrad getting an issue with my hand taken care of. I chose to spend some recuperation time at the Shangri-la hotel, perched right on the Chao Phraya River. I enjoyed watching all kinds of watercraft, the barges, long tailed boats, water taxis and tugs ply their craft. I spent a lot of time watching life on the river go by, particularly in the am, when I took my breakfast right next to the river.

                                                              View from the Shangri-la

     Every time I leaned over the river, with my phone in my hand, I remembered Chekov’s writing advice: “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter, it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.” I thought about this any time my phone got near the water and in my head the thought bubble said, “If your phone is hovering above the river, then in the second or third paragraph, there must be a ‘kerplunk’ which can only mean the phone has sunk to the depths of the river.” Every time I had that thought, I tightened my grip on my phone and slowly brought it back over terra firma. 

Do you know the mutton man? This guy was on the BKK side of the river, butchering halal mutton every day. He was okay because he threw scraps down for the feral kittens around his stall.

    Gwyne came for the last two weeks of my trip, first for her physical at Bumrungrad Hospital and then some much desired beach time. She spent her night in COVID jail before her second test came back negative. I bundled myself over to the other side of the river so we could start her vacation. We spent a few days there before heading down to Hua Hin. When my doctor asked how we were getting there, I told him we were thinking of taking the train. He was taken aback and suggested, strongly, we take a car there. I’ve been on many Thai trains, and I understood his reaction. They can be slow and timeliness is sketchy. The food vendors on them are great and it’s an experience I enjoy. But the last two weeks were Gwyne’s time, so we hired a driver to take us down there. Hua Hin is a rather sedate beach town compared to other more well known Thailand beach destinations, which suited both of us just fine. Gwyne did what she liked, which was to eat good food and lie by the pool, I did what I liked, which was listening to as many podcasts as I could on long walks on the beach after breakfast, then wandering around the markets sneaking street food and getting a massage every day. 

     And just like that, we were home again, home again jiggity jig. I had two months of luxury hotels, fabulous buffet breakfasts and plenty of delicious street food. Like I said before, everyone was wearing masks, all the time. Other than that, it seemed so…normal. Yeah, there were a lot of closed businesses and the more touristy spots were nearly empty. But the trains, buses, subway and metro were plenty filled. Shopping centers were buzzing with people. It was hard to find a seat at Sukhumvit’s Terminal 21 food court at lunch time. The second morning back home in Alabama, I had to go to the store to get food supplies. I called Gwyne and said, “What time does breakfast start?” We stayed at a few different hotels, sometimes the buffet opened at 0700 (middle of the day), 0630 (better) or 0600 (preferable). Back home? You make your own coffee, cut your own fruit, cook your own food and make your own damn bed. But not for long.