Around town...

Temple Offerings

Banana Flower Salad~Khao Soi Curry Noodle Soup~ Mango Sticky Rice

Flower Festival

Chiang Mai ~ Thailand

We returned to Thailand, got another visa on arrival, and took a taxi to our little hotel, B.B. Mantra.  B.B. stands for budget boutique which seems like an oxymoron to me.  Anyway, we were really excited to get back and as we hauled our bags into the reception area, the two girls at the desk looked at us like we were from the moon.  “You have reservation” they asked.  Luckily Ron had printed out the correspondence we had confirming our ten night reservation.  Now they looked really worried and whispering in anxious Thai, they started making phone calls and we immediately knew something was amiss.  “We no have reservation for you!”  And, “We are FULL”.   Uh oh... unfortunately, my friends Ricardo and Plaa had flown up that morning from Koh Samui to see us, and had checked in.  My sister Nitza and brother-in-law Drew were arriving the next day to be with us.  Both had rooms, but not us.  Now they are telling us “No problem, you go to our sister hotel, not far”.  What can we do? The town is very full and there was only one room left at the sister hotel.  Actually it was a nice ten minute walk down the narrow Soi with many shops and cafes.  We did have to change rooms three times in five days.  The restaurant was nice with outdoor seating beneath flowering trees and the food very good as it was part of a cooking school called Kitchen Love.  So all was OK except for the group of a dozen middle aged large, loud, obnoxious Aussies, who never stopped smoking and coughing.  They stood on their balconies and talked to one another every morning regardless of how early it was as they smoked their first cigarettes.  They took over the bar every evening with their loud talking and drinking.  Then one night, they returned at 1:30 am, stood in the darkened outdoor bar, drinking their own bottles of beer and made a party while everyone else tried to sleep.  The next night, they returned at 2:00am, with their street ladies, and started to party, awakening me again!  I was pissed.  I got up, got dressed, went out my door, leaned my head over the balcony, looked down two stories, and yelled down, “Shut the fuck up!”  They were kind of shocked, got real quiet and looked up at me and said, “you could ask nicely.”  I said, “ you don’t deserve nice, you have woken me two nights in a row, and you don’t care about anyone but your drunken selves.  So shut up and go to your rooms!”  Boy, did I feel really good, and truthfully believe there were plenty of other people in their beds silently applauding me!  Things improved after that.  It was really great to be back in our old hood and visiting with friends and family.  The first night was the Chiang Mai Flower Festival.  Abundance of orchids, street after street.  Floats made of amazing flowers and fruits, and carefully woven palms.  It was spectacular.  We wandered around with Plaa and Ricardo amaz at the detail and craftsmanship of the floats.  The next afternoon Nitza and Drew arrived and we enjoyed many hours of wandering around, eating, shopping, sipping Chang beer, and sharing my little section of town.  Their godson Miles was with us as well, and he rounded out our happy group.  It was hard to say good bye after two brief days.  Then we moved our last five nights back to the B.B. Mantra, and all was as it should have been.  Easy mornings having breakfast by the pool.  Met a Thai family who roasted coffee once a week and had a few tables in their garden, serving beautiful Cappuccino’s and latte’s.  I sat with the young owner and his great mother-in-law.  She was 92 and had lived in this wonderful old house all her life.  We happen to wander down an unfamiliar street and I glanced into a shop with no name and I saw an incredible plethora of old carvings and statues.  Heaven, as I treasure every small Buddha I have ever purchased and the old ones are very difficult to find any more.  I wandered in and started looking in every glass case, to the delight of the woman owner, An.  She was extremely humble and felt like she really knew her stuff and asked reasonable prices, although nothing is cheap anymore.  But she had some really nice old pieces.  Two sweaty hours later, bargaining and cajoling and watching her look in her ledgers at the prices she had paid, we came to an agreement.  I walked down the street to the money changer, walked back, helped her wrap my three small precious pieces in bubble wrap, and paid her.  We were both happy. Another night after having dinner, Ron and I decided to stop in and see a nice Canadian guy who has lived in town over twenty years and has a small shop of textiles and relics, and Buddha’s and amulets.   All the things I love.  He had been busy every time we had walked past, and I kept putting off going in to talk with him.  Asking Tom about a piece is an education, and it can be a long evening.  His shop is very small, maybe ten by ten, but many fine pieces.  Happily for us, he was alone, and we had him all to ourselves.  A couple hours later, we had a few more beautiful, unique pieces.  He was leaving the next day for a week off, so it was lucky we just happened to get there when we did.  The next day was our last.  We went to the post office where they help you box your goods for a small fee, and we mailed 5 kilos of our wonderful collection home.  Blessing the box, I look forward to seeing it all when we return.  Had a great time in town, and although hard to leave, we took off the next afternoon for Luang Prabang, Laos.

In the Groove

Valentines Day...We have been on the road just over four weeks, and have found our sweet spot. We have taken seven flights, and one boat. We have stayed in seven hotels, and changed rooms ten times. We have enjoyed the company of friends from Canada, Thailand, my precious sister and brother-in-law, and their godson.  It has been a rich and varied month. Feeling healthier than when we took off, and stronger. The food has been amazing. The weather perfect. I love having my breakfast prepared every morning, my room cleaned, and my laundry ironed... I guess that is a big part of the allure. Reading, writing, meeting strangers in small cafes. Wandering around the neighborhoods, experiencing the history and ritual of the Buddhist religion, watching the pigeons and the doves. Life is sweet when you have the time to breathe and relax into the mystery.

Shwedagon Pagoda

Around town...

Street Market

Synagogue ~ Yangon

Yangon

After a very peaceful week on the beach, we flew to the capital of Myanmar, Yangon.  Surprisingly, it had changed radically since our last visit six years ago.  At that time there was frustratingly slow internet, if at all.  There were no ATM machines.  The air was horribly yellow, thick with exhaust, and smoke from cooking fires.  It was dirty and decaying.  This time the airport was large and modern.  Clean bathrooms!  Our taxi was newer and the streets were not as clogged with traffic.  The government had issued an edict two years ago forbidding motorcycles within the city. Only policemen and mailman could have cycles.  The air quality had improved greatly due to the change.  We arrive at our lovely old villa, French owned, in the Golden Valley.  There were  four rooms in the main house, with teak floors, tall windows that opened onto the garden, surrounded by huge trees filled with birds.  Our hard bed was draped in mosquito netting, dark red window coverings and antique armoire completed the vintage room.  We had visited the restaurant in the garden on our last trip and had wanted to stay here.  The first night Ron and I walked to a nearby pub and had a beer, but walking isn’t easy here.  No sidewalks and plenty of curves and cars.  We decided to return and have dinner in the garden.  It was incredibly delicious.  Fish cooked in tomato, capers and wine.  Mashed potato with garlic!  A salad of fresh homegrown organic lettuces, radicchio and ripe creamy avocado!  This may not sound like much to us California folk,  but having a salad with avocado no less, is a major treat in Asia.  You really have to trust the people that wash your salad, the purity of the water, and the lettuce itself.  We felt blessed for the setting, and the pleasant service.  Those French really know how to make your dining experience charming, and they had trained the staff well.  We ended up eating all our dinners there the three nights we stayed.   We took taxi into the city the next day to explore the sights.  First we went to the only Synagogue in Myanmar.  It was over a hundred and fifty years old.  Only 20 remaining members, but every Friday night for Shabbat, expats and travelers come for services.  It was so serene inside and lovely.  I felt overwhelmed and grateful just to experience its sanctity.  Then we walked to the Strand Hotel.  Ron and I had stayed there in 1981, when it was a rundown relic of the British raj, and cost $12 a night.  It had a certain charm then and we loved it.  Now it is totally refurbished and elegant and cost $500 a night.   From there we walked through the street markets filled with fruit and veggies, sidewalk cafes with tiny tables and chairs, and merchants calling out their wears.  It was hot though so we taxi’d back to the sanctuary of the garden, and rested.  Got our second wind and, dressed in my new longyi, we went to the most sacred Pagoda in Myanmar, the Shwedagon Temple.  Women must cover their shoulders and legs, men no short pants.  No shoes, no socks.  Built over 2600 years ago, it is the oldest stupa in the world.  We joined many pilgrims  circumambulating the temples for the sunset.  When we arrived we noticed a woman organizing dozens of women who all carried short brooms.  We wondered what what that was about.  Then they lined up shoulder to shoulder across the broad marble walkways, and began to sweep in unison.  It was a devotional meditation, cleaning the temple walk for the barefooted devotees.  It was amazing.  Later as dusk descended, hundred of small dishes with tiny candles were lit encircling the temples.  We circled around the temple many times, watching the changing light and the faces of the Burmese enjoying their most sacred treasure.  The last day we relaxed.  Didn’t need to venture out as from that point we were satiated.  Enjoyed our garden, laying on the chaise under the tall trees.  I got shit on by a huge crow and when I went past the office the young manager saw me and handed me a tissue and told me it was “good luck.”   Right!  I have heard that before!  Another wonderful dinner and an early night before packing up, and flying back to Thailand the following afternoon.  

Ngapali Beach

First Sunset

Ngapali

We spent the past week on the Bay of Bengal, in the beachside town of Ngapali, after flying down from Bagan. Two short flights of under an hour each on the turbo props that zip in and out of the airports.  Land, people off, load more people, take off...  72 seats and rarely full.  It was absolutely a beautiful beach with velvety soft, white sand and clear, warm water. I was amazed it was so clean as there was no trash on the beach.  Our bay curved several miles in a gentle crescent with an island off shore where fisherman would take you to snorkel.  Lining the beach were rows of fixed palapa umbrellas and chaise lounges for the dozen or so resorts.  Very few tourists!  We were once again the only Americans with the majority of tourists French. Our resort had a huge beautiful pool facing the beach, but it was so cold it was a challenge to get in. Nights and mornings were surprisingly chilly.  Family owned restaurants with names like Green Umbrella, Sunset View, and Blue Sky lined the beach just a short walk from our hotel.  I love sitting at tables in the sand, watching the sun set with a drink, and the slow colorful evolution of day into night.  There were no bars, no discos, no noise!  Like the early days in Thailand or Bali, but without the crowds!  Sunsets were electric colored hues from red to gold with layers of oranges in between.  Our first night we hit happy hour at the first place we could walk to, tired from a day of travel.  Mojitos were in order and we settled in for the evening.  Fisherman took their boats out at night and you could see their lights dotting the horizon line like tiny sparkling jewels.  I learn that they never fish during the full moon, but never why.  We enjoyed fresh tiger prawns, red and white snapper, squid, and crabs, all pulled from the sea and bought that morning.  Everything was delicious.   Whereas in Bagan they gave you a dish of freshly sliced fruit when they bring you the check, here they fried a baby banana in butter and honey and it just melted into your mouth, about four tiny bites.  The days became a week. We did little but eat, walk, swim and lounge.  We were lucky that while we were there, wonderful longtime friends of ours from Switzerland were staying two months, as they do every winter, to escape the harsh cold in Europe.  We hadn’t seen one another for many years and it was a special treat to have several dinners and walks on the beach, catching up and reminiscing.  In Myanmar no less!  And by happenstance, or luck, we were there for the super moon and the total lunar eclipse!  Incredible to be on the beach in Southeast Asia, sipping a drink, and watching the show!  In my exuberance, I howled at the moon.  A few people caught my drift and we all laughed and danced in the sand.  It was difficult to leave.  We could have stayed much longer.  But we had a flight to catch...off to the capital of Yangon.