messiestobjects

Whispering Little Nothings In Your Ears

All of my pictures from Thailand are up. Krabi, which was dull but had a neat forest monastery, Ko Lanta, in which I have many many pictures of tiny little crabs, and Bangkok with many many incomprehensible Wat pictures. Enter at your own risk.

Scott is leaving today for China... which makes me sad because now I want to travel again. And I have to figure out a bunch of stuff I don't feel like figuring out. Again.

Anyway, that's really all I have. I'm very happy I got to see it snow yesterday. Here's a YouLube video I took in Ko Lanta of a Thai fire thrower on my hotel beach one night.

An Attempt To Remain Valid In This Confusing Young People's World

Good morning, everyone. I'm feeling quite perky on this fine winter day... Because there's snow on the ground here in Allentown! First time I've seen that in quite a while. Don't get me wrong; Thailand and Cambodia and all that tropical junk was nice and all, but thank god that whole holiday madness is over. Sure is good to be back in PA, yessiree. Now I can... um... figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Hmm... anybody want to start a betting pool on how long it'll be before I high-tail it the hell out of here for another exotic travel destination? I did receive an email a week or two ago from an old friend I knew while working in Germany whom I hadn't heard from in years, and he's living in Buenos Aires! I haven't done South America yet...

Ah well, best not think about it for now. I have myriad other issues I have to deal with for the moment, before I start getting all itchy footed again. Actually, this time it was much easier coming back. It was kind of, that first time I came back in December after being gone for years and years was like jumping into an iceberg infested Alaskan bay in February. Very chilly and prone to cause the shakes and various other health problems. So I hopped out right quick, and then came back for a second dip only this time my body was ready for the shock.

I slept without my eyeshields for the first time last night, because I was too exhausted from the 22 hour plane travel to bother getting up to tape them on. My eyes seem fine this morning, so I think I'm done with those. Hip hip, hooray.

Maybe some of you have noticed an interesting new technique I'm using in this post. The ADD kids these days call them linebreaks. They are apparently becoming the in way to write, because something about short attention spans, lazy eyes, and something something something has dictated that if you don't use them, people don't understand what you're saying. Reading line after line after line, with no spaces in between them, is becoming one of those old-fashioned quirks that will separate the stylish young up-and-comers from the old brain-dead farts that can't roll with the changes. So, in order to avoid becoming obsolete, you'll be seeing alot of these, linebreaks, in my posts from now on. For those of you who can hold a thought in your head from paragraph to paragraph without going all Memento, I apologize, but the world belongs to the young, as they say, and if you want to remain relevant, you've got to adapt.

Speaking of Memento, I saw Christopher Nolan's new film The Prestige on the airplane from Tokyo to Chicago yesterday. If you haven't seen it, I don't want to ruin anything for you, but I kind of thought it blew. I mean it was well done, the actors were all great, but I figured out the twist halfway through the movie, and thought to myself, "No, it can't be that simple. There's something else." But nope, it was that simple. The worst part was, at the end when they reveal the depth and convolution of the twist, they do it all dramatic like the end of Sixth Sense, only I was laughing my ass off because it had been so easy to figure out that it made the final moments extremely comical, which I imagine was not the director's intent at all. It's a shame, I really like Christopher Nolan, too.

Anyway, that's all I've got for now. Now I have to come up with actual topics for my posts again, which is another reason I love travel. Travel makes coming up with subject material extremely easy; this whole coming up with relevant, interesting, or humorous posts while living in an uninspiring locale such as Pennsylvania requires real talent, such as some of my other blogging friends have, and now I have to fear everyone finding out what a fraud I am if I draw a blank. Damn Sword of Damocles.

What Damn Part Of This Blog Is So Confusing? All You Have To Do Is Read. 1st Graders And Below, And Short Bus Riders Are Exempt

Dr. Chate, the mad Thai eye guy who performed my Lasik operation, was very pleased with his performance. After my post-op exam yesterday, he said I have 20/20, so, sweet. Apparently, and I knew this going in, but it's actually pretty rare to achieve 20/20, especially if you're starting with an astigmatism, which I had. So today, I feel extremely fortunate, and hope that several months down the road, I am able to appreciate it fully. I'm unable to at the moment, except you know, aesthetically, because there are still some side effects that typically do not go away for up to 6 months, and in some cases may not go away at all. For the last 12 days, since the operation, I've had to use a variety of medicated eye drops quite regularly, but I finished the prescriptions up on most of them the other day. I have to keep using the natural tear eyedrops though, because every morning when I wake up, my eyes are as dry as the desert, and so that's uncomfortable. Also, I am still wearing those eyeshields to bed every night, so that I don't unconsciously poke myself in the eye and all that. It's quite a production, taping those things to my face every evening. I've kind of turned it into an art form; see what creative way I can tape the plastic bug eyes on so they don't fall off whilst tossing and turning in my sleep. If anyone had been around to see some of the more amusing configurations... well, I'm just glad nobody was. Anyway, I only have to do that for two more nights, so I'm looking forward to stopping that. But the best side effects are the visuals. At night, lights get this crazy starburst/halo effect. Like you've been swimming in a heavily chlorinated pool for too long. Sometimes you see it during the day, if the lighting condition is right. If it's a really bright day, everything can get rather halo-y, which is disconcerting from time to time. There's a small small chance that the dry eye and internal starburst filter, as Scott likes to call it, will never go away. Which would be a bummer, but I think I could probably get used to it. The fact of the matter is, when it comes down to it, is that I HAVE 20/20!!! Any side effects, since I didn't go blind, are totally worth that. It's hard to explain, but after Lasik, it's like being able to see with glasses, only without the glasses.

Um... I guess it's not that hard to explain.
(That was a line break, right? See, I can use 'em if I want. Look here, I'll do it again.)

But seriously folks, the next time I go scuba diving, I'll really be able to see everything, because you can't dive with glasses. Even just normal swimming, for heaven's sake! The next time I snowboard I don't have to worry about falling and breaking them, or the next time I walk into a warm room from out in the cold (foggy glasses are irritating), no more falling asleep with them on and waking to find you've bent them, no more smudgey spots to clean, (Actually, sometimes I might miss that one. Cleaning your glasses is a great way to pretend to be listening to someone while in fact trying to tune them out. I learned that from watching Buffy, which, hey! I can now watch TV without glasses. Don't know if that actually will make any difference, as I haven't watched any in a very long time, but I don't care. From now on, everything without glasses is cool.) no more unsightly bridge spots on my nose, or frame arm marks on the sides of my head, no more having to choose out a pair of stylish frames that identify me as an individual from the weak-ass selection the optical center has, no more having to strategically place them on my nose so I can see under my chin in the mirror while shaving, because I now have full peripheral vision! Not that that's as cool as I thought it was going to be. I had this notion that the full range of my eyes would be clearly seeable at all times, but no, it doesn't work that way. Still have to look in the direction you're interested in, at the moment. But still, my spectacles' frames are no longer the limiting factor, and that's pretty nice. There is one dream I've had to give up, unfortunately, one thing which Dr. Chate said I could never ever do again, no matter how well my eyes heal. "Michael", he told me 12 days ago, "I'll perform the operation, but there is one thing, one thing that I'm afraid you'll have to give up, because your eyes simply won't be able to take it."
"What is it, Dr.?" I trembled.
"I'm very sorry, but you'll never be able to box again." He shook his head.
(In Darth Vader's voice, upon hearing Padme was dead) "NNNNOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
So, my career in boxing is finished, and that Tyson exhibition fight cancelled, but I'll live with it. I asked him if it was still ok to hit a guy, and he said oh yeah sure, no problem. Just don't take hits to the face every day. So, whew, right?
So, now that the credits are rolling, I have to give some mad props out to my peeps. Y'all. Specifically, thanks to Scott, for all the advice on places to eat in Bangkok, the play by play of his own Lasik surgery experience, which certainly gave me a heads up on one or two things I otherwise may have been unpleasantly surprised by, and lastly, even though I didn't take him up on it, his helpful map which he drew in great detail for me of all the best hooker bars he discovered through painful legwork. It's the thought that counts, bro.
(Just kidding. He didn't do that. And Steven, if you tease H. about loose Thai women any more, I'm going to hurt you.)
Also, thanks to all the fine people over at Luongoworld for the moral support... Civil Service forms, my ass.
Anyway, see you soon.

Khmer Reap... Yeah, How You Like That, Huh?!

Siem Reap, the town from which all excursions to see the jungle temples of Angkor depart, means 'Siamese Defeated', or in modern national parlance, 'Thailand Defeated.' It's only about 100 kilometers from the Thai border... that's a pretty snotty thing to name your town, you know? Ah history. But it's quite the interesting little place. I mean, you would never come here in a gazillion years except to see Angkor, but once you're here, you kind of get into a rhythm, and it's really a great place to spend a week. I've developed rather a schedule, actually. Get up at a leisurely pace. You know, take time to stretch, enjoy the morningness of Cambodia. Call down to the front desk to have your breakfast delivered to your $25 a night room, where you can eat on your private little palm-tree shaded balcony, to the sounds of the particular brand of vibrant street noises that Cambodians cause, and possibly some chattering monkeys nearby, waiting for you to finish so they can raid your leftovers after you go back inside. Saunter on out to the street and wait for, oh say about 3 seconds until someone racing by on a moto (scooter) offers you a ride. Pay the dude a dollar to take you into Psar Chas (old town) where you can orchestrate an amusing bidding war among the hundreds of tuk-tuk drivers pleading with you to let them take you somewhere. Seriously, pleading! They sound and look like they're going to cry if you turn them down. But, harden your heart and enjoy the fight, because you only need one tuk-tuk. Besides, if you are foolish enough to actually walk a block in any direction, 500 drivers will plead with you also, regardless of how many times you've just told the last bloke no thank you, so even if you're unable, they obligingly harden your heart for you, through sheer annoyance.
Once you've settled on your driver, whom you've hired for the entire day for $6 to $30, depending on where you want to go, go jungle temple hopping until sunset! Oh, and try and get pictures without asians in them. Seriously, it's hard. The difference between western tourists and asian tourists is that westerners like to get pictures of things, generally. But asians want pictures of themselves in front of things. And no group photos, either. We're talking each and every single one of them wants to stand in front of each and every single piece of interesting rock, tree, or trash can they can find, and have a solo photo. So if you want a picture of something, you just have to suck it up and stand there watching a huge line of asians queue up. And they don't give a rat's ass about anybody else, either. You're obviously standing there, framing and about to capture the next great National Geographic photo, when bump! Here comes the asian photo patrol, standing right in your way. I'm not sure they realize that they're being rude... I think they just don't understand the idea of taking a picture of something unless an asian is standing in front of it. Anyway, all tangents aside, it's a great time anyway. Then have your driver drop you off back in town instead of your hotel, so you can attend to some things before the 9 to 5 businesses start closing. Pick up eye-drops, a souvenir or something, hit the ATM. The ATMs here, by the by, do not distribute Cambodian currency, which is called riel. They distribute US dollars. It's actually strangely difficult to find and use riel. You'll only get riel if you are owed less than a US dollar for change, and then they'll give you the few cents worth. Once you get them, alot of places don't even want to take them. It was the same in Phnom Penh. It's weird because there are actually relatively few western tourists here; mostly it's Koreans, and a healthy mix of other asian photo-blockers. This country has no pride in it's own currency, dammit.
Anyway, once you're all settled, hop on a passing moto back to the hotel for a much needed shower, as it's sweaty work climbing about all those subsumed jungle temples in all this tropical heat. (I hear PA just got a hit of some nasty winter at last... nice. Hope there's still some snow by the time I get back.) Relax in your underwear under the ceiling fan for a bit. Get up, pack your laptop, and head back into town for some dinner at The Blue Pumpkin cafe, where they have bed seating, that's right! And free wireless internet. Lounge a bit, eat, make stupid comments on other people's blogs, make stupid blog entries of your own, (Hey! Like this one!) drink coffee. Then, before calling it a night, enjoy one of the finest ideas Siem Reap has on offer; there are about 50 foot massage parlours up and down the main street area, all fighting for your business much like the tuk-tuk drivers. For $6, you can get an hour long expert foot massage, which after pretending to be Tomb Raider all day long, is pretty much the awesomest thing ever. Have I said before that those tiny little girls' fingers will absolutely wreck you? Good stuff.
Take one last moto ride home, and sleep. Wake and repeat.
But all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow I head back to boring 'ol Bangkok for a few days where I have my last post-op eye check-up, and then it's another 26 hour plane ride back home. I got my muscle relaxers all good and ready. Now it's time for my foot massage. See y'all.

And Happy 60th Dad! Sorry I'm not around for it... I'll bring you a nice little cheesy southeast asian souvenir to make up for it! Hope you like fancy chopsticks.

I Wax Badly Poetic About Very Big Things I've Seen On My Tours Quite Alot, Don't I? or, Cambodia, Here's My Ode To Ya

They say that travel is broadening, and I'm beginning to think I'll never be able to know that for myself because I'm starting to understand that being a tourist is not the same thing as Travelling, (capital 'T' intended) and it seems that there is nowhere you can go that's cool anymore where you're not just another tourist. Bugger. Well, I can at least say with authority that tourism is informative, which is not quite as good as getting all broadened up, but still pretty all right. So, in that spirit, allow me to tell you what I've learned generally about Southeast Asia, and Cambodia specifically because Thailand is so last week. I've learned that once, long long ago before men ruled the world, there was a great world war between the squirrels and the monkeys. The squirrels bombarded the monkeys with their nuts, the monkeys tossed their sun-dried bowel gems at the squirrels, they would get into spectacular tree acrobatic sumo fights, and things continued on in this way for quite some time until the fact dawned on them that nobody was really winning because nuts and sun-dried bowel gems are not lethal, and winter was coming. A truce was made and a decision reached to split the world between them, and since squirrels are not as smart as monkeys, they were conned into taking to the northern climes, and the monkeys got the tropics. So, what I'm trying to say is that monkeys are Southeast Asia's squirrels. They run around in the public parks collecting things left behind and play in the trees, and keep that same sort of not-too-terribly- afraid-but-cautious distance from people thing that squirrels do. Lets hope that the monkeys don't discover crack the way those crazy South London gangs of squirrels did.... whew, what a mess. Kids these days. I'd just like to say though, that NY City squirrels did it first, NY City squirrels did it worse. Anyway, it's cool though, because I'll get all excited and be like "Monkey!" and the Cambodians will be all like "Dude, total tourist. Lets go hassle him for some money."
Another thing I've learned is that Cambodian trees are the coolest. They got some awesome trees around here.

That's just a taste... I have soooooo many tree pictures, but you'll just have to wait until I get all my pictures up onto smugmug. Speaking of which, I opened my Krabi, Thailand photo gallery. It's a smallish gallery because there wasn't a whole lot there, and also it's taken me this long to even be able to get those few up. I won't be opening any other galleries until I get back home to speedy internet, probably.
Moving on; another thing I've learned is that travel by tuk-tuk is awesome. Today I took a 3 hour trek through the Cambodian countryside on one. Fantastic. And by the way, I know you're all likely very sick of hearing me talk about them by now, but I have to add that bumping along Cambodian backroads in a three-wheeled cart with cushions towed by a scooter (that's what a tuk-tuk is) while listening to The Gun Club is sublime. My MP3 player has been shamed, in it's social circles. It is no longer an MP3 player, but a Gun Club player. I've listened to nothing else since the night of my eye surgery. Okay that's the last time I'm name-dropping them here, I promise.
And the last bit of touristy wisdom that I'll be passing along is that Angkor Wat is really really really really really really really really really really freaking fantastically big. I mean really, really big. You have no idea just how large. Just enormous. It's fantastihugeoungouslylarge. Ok yes I'm borrowing a bit from Douglas Adams as he attempts to describe the size of the Universe, and you shouldn't think that Angkor Wat is the same size as the Universe because of my paraplageurism, because then you'd be very wrong and a bit confused about things, but it really is just amazing. I read somewhere that it is the largest religious structure in the world. Or the largest spiritual temple. Or something. Anyway, it's on the list to potentially be one of the new Seven Wonders of the World... I'm going to vote for it first, definitely, and I've seen more than a few of the items on that list. See this picture?

Yeah, it doesn't really give you any idea at all of how big that thing is. Anyway, this whole area, around the town of Siem Reap, is crazy infested with temples. Angkor Wat is the main attraction, but there are literally over a thousand other ruined forest temples that are also awesome in different ways. There's one named Ta Prohm that is overgrown with trees, breaking apart the stones of the Temple. Parts of Tomb Raider were filmed there, I understand. Never seen it. But here's a good temple/tree combo. There will be alot of these, someday, in my Angkor gallery.

There's another one named the Bayon, which has a whole mess of very large enigmatically smiling faces carved all over it. The one I took the tuk-tuk ride out to today is called Beng Mealea, and it was my favorite side temple so far because the only people that go out there are those that stick around for more than two or three days and have the time to venture out to the more distant temples, so for large periods of time I was alone and it's been untouched and virtually unrestored since it's rediscovery, so it was very Indiana Jones. Indiana Jones = cool.
I'm not doing a very good job of conveying what this place is like. Angkor Wat, together with the walled city of Angkor Thom a few hundred meters away, once formed the nucleus of the Khmer empire, where kings competed with each other over a 300 year period to build the biggest and best temples ever. EVER. I am here for five days, and that's either not enough time, or enough to overwhelm me into a puddle that never wants to see another temple or take another picture again. I have taken so many inadequate pictures that I kind of want to give off a good girly shrill scream and chuck my camera at a wall. Don't doubt it, I've done it before! Different reasons though. My idiot boss was really pissing me off that time.
Speaking of, the former head of my old company was finally sentenced the other day... 46 months in prison. He's been in jail without bail for 15 months already, so, he's got a few years left. Then 2 years parole. So, that's the end of that chapter, and hopefully my blog will never see mention of that whole mess ever again. Unless they still want me to go to DC at some point, then I'll try and keep it to a travelogueing minimum.

Particleus Acceleratus Addendumitis (A Condition Caused By Lack Of Picture Uploading Capability At The Appropriate Time)

There's a couple of pictures I'd wanted to post in the last entry, but Cambodian internet cafes being what they are, was unable to at the time. The first one is apropos of nothing; I just like it. It's a street shot of Phnom Penh.

This next one... Well, all I'm saying is, dude, if you have to advertise this about yourself, then there is something severely wrong with your environment.

But I think that this is a sentiment behind which we can all stand... I'm not going to get any arguments there. At least, not any tasteful ones, and you know who you are. Sex tourism, and especially child sex tourism, is a very real and bizarrely evil occurance which of course as anyone knows about this part of the world, is in fact notorious for that sort of thing. Well, at least they're taking some steps in the right direction. T-shirts are a HUGE deterrent, as proven on laboratory mice who, after being shown the T-shirt logo, failed to molest any children.

I Know, I'm Sorry, I'm Behaving Like A Total Particle Accelerator. I'll Stop, Truly I Will, Please Don't Stay.

So one of the more vexing problems facing scientists who explore the quantum universe is that the very act of observing quantum phenomena (do dooo do do do) changes the thing observed. (Mah-nah-mah-nah.) That's why when looking at particles in a particle accelerator, they sometimes behave as a wave and other times behave as separate little bits. It just depends on what criteria you're observing by. That's where Schrodinger's Cat comes from, also, and why a quantum physicist can't tell you if the lab kitty is alive or dead for sure either way, until you poke it with a stick. Actually that's not quite right, it's weirder than that. If you put a cat in a box and point a laser at it, which is set off by a quantum trigger that goes off (or not) while the box is closed, the cat, until you actually open the box and observe it, is in a quantum simultaneous alive/dead state, being neither wholly one nor the other. I think. Dammit, it's been a while since I read any popular Quantum Physics books. That stuff is hard to keep in your head. Is my brain dead, or alive? I'd prefer a constant either/or state to actually knowing, thank you very much. Anyway, all this really goes to show is why people avoid scientists at parties, and especially avoid those of us who aren't scientists but try to explain scientific matters as if we had any clue about them whatsoever. But I had a point, really I did. Wait, it's coming back to me... oh there it is! So, quantum problem, the mere viewing of a quantum particle will alter it's behaviour, so you can never really know what it was up to or what it would have gotten up to until you came along and freaked it all out; you can only know what it did self-consciously under the lens of a quantum particle accelerator. And here's what I was trying to get at: Tourism, it's the same thing. But without the particle accelerator. The very act of tourism somewhat destroys what it is people were going to see in the first place. It's not as noticeable in places like Europe, except in small ways. The Vatican, for instance, since it was built, has always looked more or less the same, and remains unaffected physically by tourism, excepting minimal wear and tear. But the difference there is more aesthetic. There is a huge difference, I imagine, between being alone in the Sistine chapel and soaking in all that art at your leisure, and being one of 1000 people and fighting for space, with the whispers gradually reaching a level to where the priests in attendance have to go "SHHHHHHHHH!!", then the whispers die down for a time, gradually rising over the next five minutes until the priests do the dreaded "SHHHH!" again, this wave of whisperage going on constantly until, hot sweaty and tired of bumping into people, you leave.
But in places like Thailand, tourism does much worse. Think back to four score and seven years ago, maybe multiply that by 10 or so since I'm not actually entirely sure what quantity four score is. I think maybe I used to know. Anyway, back in those pristine days of yore, Thailand's beaches were, in all likelihood, serene, untouched places of indescribable beauty. Some intrepid hippie backpacker came across it one day, and pow, fast forward to four score and seven times ten years later, there are thousands and thousands of tourists (including me, I'm not judging) who all came in search of fabled beauty, but in the process tore it up and filled the place with dive shops and 7elevens, and lots of levelled jungle to make room for 5 star beach resorts. It's just not the same anymore. It's still really nice, but not the paradise it was, and I imagine it's only going to get worse. Ohh, maybe the particle accelerator could metaphorically be word-of-mouth and/or advertising about certain tourist hotspots! Well, no need to really run with metaphor, I suppose. The point is more or less made.
But where I was really going with all this, was that Cambodia is both more and less than Thailand, for me. So far. I really like Phnom Penh in some ways: There are a lot fewer white people around, so I can kind of feel like I'm treading new ground, (I know I'm not, it's just the feeling that modern tourists have to hope for the best for) and there is next to none of the usual tourist infrastructure, so you don't get cut off from the normal daily life of locals. I mean, there are hotels, even a few really big expensive ones, but the city itself is a thriving mass of streetlife, motorbikes, tuk tuks, people asking for money or begging you to take a ride on their cyclo, and there is no getting away from it! Not that you want to, when travelling. That's why you travel. But sometimes it's easy to avoid actually experiencing a country and just sit in cafes and go to museums and whatnot. Here, it's in your face and I kind of like that. I had a blast taking a 30 minute tuk tuk ride out to Choeung Ek today... dodging people, other vehicles, everybody waving hello because they're not entirely jaded on western tourists yet... it's a really poor country though, so that takes some of the fun out of it. Meaning that you wind up feeling bad about yourself alot for being able to afford to jaunt off to Cambodia, when alot of them make $20 a month... Choeung Ek, by the way, is the villiage where Pol Pot had his famous Killing Fields. That was also a downer, but interesting. I overheard one guide telling his group the grisly manner in which they killed children and babies, bashing them on trees and even worse. The S-21 prison, which is now a genocide museum dedicated to Pol Pot's victims, was sobering also. You know, most of his soldiers, the ones who did the majority of murdering, were little more than children themselves? That always seems to be the way, in murderous holocausts. Hitler had his Youth, Pol Pot brainwashed young Cambodians... beware of activist organizations breeding armies of children. Hmmm... we should all keep our eyes on this type of behaviour.
Anyway, things I don't like about Phnom Penh; ultimately, it's small and you can do everything in a day, and following the oft-quoted travelling rule of 1 day or 1 month (or is it 3 days or 3 months? Meh, in Phnom Penh, it's 1 day 1 month), I've been here a day too long. That's why I have so much time to blather. But tomorrow, Angkor Wat, for 5 days. I understand that that is a good amount of time there, so we'll see.

The Man Never Actually Said Billions & Billions or Millions & Millions That Way... That Was A Johnny Carson Thing

An article on NY Times just reminded me how much I miss Carl. I read everything he ever published years ago, even the gigantic volume Cosmos; especially Cosmos, actually. That book changed my brain. I even bought the 12 DVD Cosmos television series, long before I could really afford to buy such things. It was %100 worth it. But as great as he was at explaining science to the dumb masses (hee get it? Dumb-masses?) like me, he was also in posession of a deep philosophical mind and had the gift of imparting his ideas with a forthrightness and compassion that others don't even understand that they're missing. The Demon-Haunted World is fantastic, and does a much better job of delineating the problems facing science vs. religion than Dawkins in all his shrillness could hope to achieve. I can't wait to pick up the new book his widow just published from writings he left behind. He was an impeccable scientist, although to my knowledge he never won a Nobel prize for any of his work, and he was an impressive humanitarian, though he never won a Nobel there, either. (He did win other various lesser scientific and humanitarian awards, however.) Unfortunately, there is no category for him, as his particular gift was a combination of those things, a calm implacable manner, and a gift for explaining complicated ideas in an extremely engaging and understandable way. He was just awesome, is all I'm trying to say, and I wish he was on the scene today.
That's all. Going to Cambodia tomorrow.

Okay Okay, After This Post, It Should Be Out Of My System, I Swear

So this guy, after seeing a picture of mine that Miss Luongo used in one of her posts, has posted one of my Centralia pictures over on his art site! So that's pretty cool. He posts something he comes across every day, and yesterday I got the props. So nyah nyah, everybody. Okay I'm done being 5 now. Go check it out though, he says really nice things about my mad photo skills (snicker). Okay okay, now I'm done. I've also added a permanent link to his main site on my sidebar, at the artist's studio. Thanks Shawn! And thanks, Miss Luongo, for liking the lonely little tree. Actually, as I recall, I took that picture of the tree and cross because Julie pointed it out to me in the first place. So really it was a collaborative art. (Art, hehee. <Kevin Macdonald sighs> My art...) Okay that's it, I swear.
Anyway, yesterday was a very long day. I went down to the Imperial city, a section in Bangkok where there is some really amazing stuff. Lots of Wats (temples), buddahs, and other really great architecture.

I took a snarfload of photos, probably too many. I think I overcompensated actually. I have a real problem with that. Firstly, it's the first time I've been in Asia, and seen up close some tripped out bona fide Asian insane architechture. I mean really, this stuff is wack, as the kids these days are saying. Secondly, I kept getting eyestrain. I had a real problem focusing my eyes in the viewfinder on my camera after a while... you would think that, after undergoing eye surgery, I'd take it easy, right? Well, taking into account the fact that I'm fanTAstically retarded, you'd know I didn't. Overcompensation man, that stuff'll kill you. Since I had trouble getting a clear view of what I was shooting, I just took 5 of everything. I actually filled up my 1 gig flash card in just over half a day. First time I've ever done that. So, consequently, I got 5 really mediocre shots of everything. Ho hum. It didn't help that Bangkok is a mecca for other Asian tourists, and anybody that's been anywhere knows what competing with them for photographs is like. A teeming mass of chattering little retired asian people and ridiculously outsized cameras, and bags and bags of camera equipment, all just to take tourist snapshots. Here's a shot that makes me want to call these two The Asian Snapshot Patrol, for some reason. I love the fingerless gloves. It's like 90° out.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of tourist snapshots. It's all I do. But I have a very little Canon powershot pro that I got off of Scott at a very nice deal, and apparently I can do ART with it. (Snicker snicker. Okay okay, I'm done for real now, I swear.) (Shawn, if you're reading I'm not making fun of art or your page or anything; I'm just being five years old because I'm jazzed you liked my picture enough to call it art. Hee hee.)
Anyway. So, other than that, I haven't done much. Okay okay, I DID go over to check out the Nana complex... which is not a fear of nannies or grandmothers, but a three story carnivale of bars in the Sukhumvit section of Bangkok, right near where I'm staying.

It's got it all. Pubs with only men who haven't yet drunk enough courage to visit the other bars in the area (which is where I hung out, too properly shocked and apalled to stand for any of it), strip bars, bars that aren't necessarily hooker bars, but that have a suspiciously high ratio of hot Thai women to fat old pathetic greasy western men, and yes, transvestite bars. And okay yes, probably hooker bars, but I wouldn't know. I took a walkabout, and was cajoled at almost every point along the way. I must say that I found this particular brand of tout much more tolerable than any other place I've been to, although my anti-tout instincts remained intact.
So, as much fun as Bangkok is, I'll be leaving in a couple of days for Cambodia. I'm going to take a week or so there to check out Phnom Penh and Angkor Wat before heading back to Bangkok to fly home.

I Say Things Three Times Alot, Because That's Blind Panic For You

I can see I can see I can see! But, whatever anyone tells you, getting your eggwhites sliced open, and then being forced to stare at a tiny red dot which keeps slipping out of focus while your heart is palpitating, quite naturally given the situation, and a mad mad Thai opthamologist is yelling at you the entire time to "look at the dot look at the dot LOOK AT THE DOT DON'T LOOK AWAY DON'T LOOK AWAY DON'T LOOK AWAY! Just relax don't try to help I don't need your help I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!!!! is not, in fact, painless and over before you know it. In retrospect, of course, it didn't actually take all that long, but the waiting and surgery prep that goes on beforehand takes forever, and the quick 30 minute procedure itself is a hundred years. It didn't help that one of my first thoughts, right before he cut my first eye open while he was prepping it with eyedrops and plastic covering, was of that 'Friends' episode where Rachel has to get eye drops, but she has this freakishly weird thing about things getting anywhere near her eyes, and after many amusing hijinks all 5 of her friends finally have to tackle her in order to squirt the drops in her eyes. So at first I was chuckling to myself because I was handling the whole situation so much better than Rachel would have, but then of course once he started cutting, and then during the actual laser reshaping part, (which smells like burning hair, by the way) all I could think about was "Don't freak out and turn your head like Rachel did, Don't freak out and turn your head like Rachel did, DON'T FREAK OUT AND TURN YOUR HEAD LIKE RACHEL DID!!!" And then of course, once it's all finished the hippity hoppity mad Thai eye guy tells you, after putting shields over your eyes and you can't see anything and everything is very disorientating, "Whatever you do, don't squint. That's the worst thing you could possibly do, ESPECIALLY tonight, so don't squint. DON'T SQUINT!" Okay, my eyes are feeling really strained, because they've just been traumatized, I can barely see, and what I can see is blurry, and I've just been told that squinting could ruin the whole procedure. Okay, you try it, with the good eyes you're reading this with right now. Don't squint. I mean it, don't squint. Okay maybe it's easy for some, but all I could think about was don't squint don't squint don't squint oh crap did I just squint? No, that wasn't a squint, I don't think, so okay don't squint don't squint don't squint. Crap, what if I squint in my sleep? Oh god oh god oh god.
Once I finally made it back to my room, I ordered a victory calzone from room service (they have an italian restaraunt downstairs, and a McDonalds. How messed up is it that a world famous hospital and health care outpatient clinic has an on-premises McDonalds? What were they thinking? It's a good thing I gave up fast food for New Years), and then spent the rest of the night trying not to squint. Incidentally, for anyone who gets Lasik in the future, I highly recommend the following "Long Dark Night of the Non-Squinting Soul" music: Lush - Spooky, Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins - Rabbit Fur Coat (super fantastic album, by the way), Jolie Holland - Escondida (also super fantastic), The Cure - Disintegration, and I was getting ready to hit The Gun Club - Fire of Love (for the twentieth time in two weeks; I frikken love that album) but I figured it might ruin the estrogen high I'd gotten off the previous stuff I'd been listening to, and anyway I wanted to sleep.
Another thought I had, while trying to sleep with bug-eye shields on my face, not to mention burning, itching, the deathly fear of squinting, and wondering whether I was going to be able to see in the morning, and of course also the excitement that I would be able to see in the morning, if I didn't squint, was who in the hell was the first guy that ever underwent this procedure, and what kind of insane thrill-seeker was he? I mean come on, of all the risks you run from Lasik, even as small a chance as you have now of going blind or whatever, that first guy, man, he had no statistics to go by! He (or she, sorry) knew nothing about possible side effects! I don't know man, I don't think I could've gone into it blind like that. Oh wait...
Anyway, my two hours are just about up, so later.
I can see!

Holy Fait Accompli, Little Grasshopper!

Mmmm, Thai street food. Looks good, doesn't it?

You know that old adage, "You learn something new every day?" Well, today I learned that Thais like bugs. And I don't mean that they just like bugs, as in having warm friendly feelings towards them, but that they like to eat them. That's right, look closer, those are fried insects of various variety. Actually, it's not true that I just learned that today; Scott told me about it when he was here a month or so ago, and he even tried one. I forget what kind he ate though, because when he told me, all I heard was "I ate bugs today". Isn't that enough? Maybe it was grasshopper. They have street carts full of the little buggers. (Buggers! Ha!) I bribed a street vendor into letting me take that close-up shot by buying a sample bag. I was thinking about getting really really drunk and then trying to eat one or two, but after I stopped and had one Guinness, I realized that there really isn't enough beer in the world. I threw my sample bag away. It didn't help that after showing it to the bartender, who was a local Thai, even he was totally grossed out by them. Scott's a better man than I when it comes to eating bugs, and I'm happy to leave it that way.
Anyway, that was my evening. I just walked around for an hour or two because I didn't get out of the hospital until 6 or 7 pm... it was a very long day of getting poked and prodded, and I can't even decide which was my most uncomfortable moment. See, I had a comprehensive medical check-up which lasted about 5 hours, where at one point I was asked by my Thai physician if I wanted him to check my penis and my anus, while a cute little Thai nurse was standing there watching! (I swear to God that she smirked.) What am I supposed to say to that? Do I want him to? Of course not! But you know, isn't that part of the comprehensive? What if I have a hemorrhoid or testicle cancer or something? It would be foolish to say no, but on the other hand I've never had anyone's finger in my butt and I'd like to keep it that way. I also had an abdominal ultrasound. I got a tube of jelly squeezed on me and everything. The funny Thai doctor lady told me I wasn't pregnant. I told her that's a bummer, I'll just have to keep trying. Then a visit to the orthopedist, because I wanted to find out if there was anything to the lower back pains I've been getting, and I discovered that I have an extra joint-thingy on my spinal column that most people don't have, and one of them is slipped. He recommended excercise. Great. I hate excercise. And then finally my Lasik consultation, where I spent another 3 hours. They gave me a bunch of tests, then eyedrops, and then anesthesia drops to numb my eyeballs so that he could shove some glass lenses directly onto them to have a closer look at them. After all that, the doctor said I was clear for the surgery, and we were discussing the procedure when he glanced at my paperwork and saw that I'm allergic to lidocaine. There was a very bad moment because he then says "But then how will we do the surgery? We must put lidocaine in your eyes! (Lidocaine is a general anesthesia used in lots of operations; dentists use it all the time. I found out that I was allergic to it when I was like 6 or 7 or something when I was given it for some reason or other, and went into a convulsive fit.) So there was a second where I was feeling really disappointed and then it got worse. The cute little Thai nurse (not the same one; the hospital has about 800 of the cutest, nicest little Thai girls running around in very light green hospital digs keeping the assembly-line operation that it is running smoothly) about lost her mind at that moment, actually dropping to a knee and trying to steady herself with a little hand on the desk and her other little hand covering her shocked little "o" mouth; Then she says in a little voice, "You allergic to lidocaine?! Anasthetic drops I put in your eyes before are lidocaine!" At which point all three of us got really quiet, while the doctor kind of held his breath and stared at my eyes for a minute. When my eyeballs failed to melt, explode, or convulse in my sockets, I said, "Well, I guess I'm not allergic to lidocaine anymore, then." So all's well that ends well. My surgery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and not only will I not be allowed to wash my hair for 2 weeks (snork! I'm bald!) because I can't get water in my eyes, but I'm not supposed to look at a computer screen for more than two hours a day during that time either. So, maybe you guys will be spared from too much inane bullcock from me for a while.

I Say Tomato, You Say ต้นมะเขือเทศ

Did you know that the Thais don't call Bangkok Bangkok? The west supercedes the name of a place given to it by it's own inhabitants once again. Munich, for example, is not Munich. It's München. Cologne is Köln. Venice is Venezia. Prague is Praha, Rome is Roma, Florence is Firenze, Vienna is Wien, Moscow is Moskva, New York is New Yawk (just kidding), Morocco is Maghreb, (actually, it's Al-Mamlakah al-Maghribīyyah) Austria is Österreich, Germany is Deutschland, and Croatia is Hrvatska. I'm sure there are loads of others, but that's what I've got off of the top of my head. I've never really understood why places let other places get away with stuff like that. If I went somewhere and heard a bunch of A-rabs calling my homeland somethin' funny, I'd be startin' some fights! Oh wait, they do. I am not an American, I'm an Ameriqie. Weird. (Hey Steven, where you been?) Well anyway, Bangkok, falling the furthest from the tree so far, is really called Krung Thep. If you want to get technical, it's actually a Guinness record breaker as having the longest place name in the world, the full name of the city being Krungthep Mahanakhon Amonrattanakosin Mahintharayutthaya Mahadilokphop Noppharatratchathani Burirom-udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amonphiman Awatansathit Sakkathattiya Witsanu Kamprasit, (In Thai, it's กรุงเทพมหานคร อมรรัตนโกสินทร์ มหินทรายุธยามหาดิลกภพ นพรัตน์ราชธานี บุรีรมย์อุดมราชนิเวศน์มหาสถาน อมรพิมานอวตารสถิต สักกะทัตติยะวิษณุกรรมประสิทธ... Thai is pretty, no?) which translates into english as "The city of angels, the great city, the eternal jewel city, the impregnable city of God Indra, the grand capital of the world endowed with nine precious gems, the happy city, abounding in an enormous Royal Palace that resembles the heavenly abode where reigns the reincarnated god, a city given by Indra and built by Vishnukam". Now say it three times fast. I suppose westerners stuck with Bangkok because it's easier, and dirty. Understandable, really. Actually, Bangkok is a shortened version of the name of the villiage originally in place which the city built itself around, named Bang Makok, which is even dirtier. Not sure why that one didn't stick.
I haven't actually seen any of it yet, except for this view from my hotel balcony:

Tomorrow I have a health screening check-up thing and then my eye consultation, at which time they'll schedule my surgery. So, depending on when that is, it may be a few days before I get to go and see the good stuff... with no glasses!

Blue And Yellow, When Mixed, Make Green. That's Why The Ocean Is Some Days One Color, Some Days Another.

I know I know; three posts in three days! Obviously I don't know how to have a proper vacation. But I just wanted to say how awesome scuba diving is. Actually, scuba may very well have saved this holiday of mine from utter wastefulness. I saw a sea horse! Bright yellow and about 5 inches long, give or take a centimeter; it's hard to tell with the curly tail and all. Lionfish too. Those are pretty. And crown-of-thorns-starfish; those things are a trip. They are very blacklightish, and would look pretty good on a Black Sabbath album cover, aye?
But I'm a bit over the top mostly because I learned two new scuba techniques today. First I learned how to conserve oxygen so that I can extend my stay under water, and I must say I learned it real well. Previously, the longest I'd ever been able to stay under was about 40 - 45 minutes at 20 meters deep. I learned from my dive leader, on the boat ride out to the dive site, that minimal movement keeps your heart rate down, hence less oxygen needed. Common sense right? Yeah, but there's technique; the temptation to wave your arms about is so basic under there that you don't think twice about it, but it really shoots your heart rate up more than you'd think. So you cross your arms and don't use them at all, and kick only when absolutely needed. I outstayed everybody else on the dive (about 15 people) excepting only the dive leader. We stayed under for 62 minutes on the first dive and 63 minutes on the second! And I still had 50 bars of oxygen left! (You start with 200 bars) I was super happy about that. The second technique I learned was how to pee in my wetsuit. It's really important, because you don't want anything to distract from all the fun to be had floating around and about a coral reef. It's really hard at first actually; I had to try like 4 times before I managed to squirt even a tiny bit out. There are years and years of training and subconscious instinct that you have to override. Right from the get go of life, you've got lots of negative vibes coming at you whenever you pee your pants, and then when you conquer that issue, you spend years learning how not to pee even when you're asleep! (If you're going to the bathroom, and you keep peeing and peeing all over the place, and it keeps going and going and going, and you can't seem to find enough toilets to fill or trees to hide behind, it's a dream! WAKE UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!) Being called a bed wetter (not to mention having uncomfortably moist and unpleasantly stale pee-smelling sheets in the morning) is a serious learning stick. So, as I was saying, actually trying to pee while awake, wearing clothes, and nowhere near a toilet or a bush has a whole set of issues you've just got to deal with. But eventually I did it, and it was warm. Actually it wound up being the most relieving urination I can ever recall. Once I got over my repression, the floodgates opened wide up and I went four times in all, making the dive a much more enjoyable experience than it would have been swimming about with knock knees, not to mention having discovered my own natural wetsuit warmer method. So I'm really pleased with having got that technique down as well.
Tomorrow, alas, is another down day. I'm flying to Bangkok the day after tomorrow, and you can't scuba for 24 hours before flying because you have to let all of that nitrogen that gets in your blood dissipate, or your veins will explode in the low pressure high altitude. Can't have that. And I think I've done everything fun there is to do here, so, more beach sitting and reading, dadgummit.

Buy One, Get One Free; One For The Missus And One For You And Me. Or, Books I Read This Summer.

That's right, two fer a dollar. I just thought I'd go on to prove even further how dreary life on vacation on a tropical isle can be by not only posting twice in two days, but by quickly sharing with you the three books I've read this week because there was nothing better to do than sit on the beach and read. Ho hum. If you're as bored as I am, read on, because obviously neither one of us has anything better to do.
The first one was a pleasant surprise; who knew that Nick Cave could write? 'And The Ass Saw The Angel' is a pretty gritty southern gothic (of course it is) novel, and for those of us who love bashing on fundies, it's a tasty treat. I swear I didn't know that when I picked it up. I just thought, Nick Cave wrote a book now? Huh. I want one. And it's really good, too. I'm a little confused about the ending, so perhaps I will have to re-read it one day, or better yet have a conversation with someone who has read it and does understand it. I also read Thomas Pynchon's 'The Crying of Lot 49', because ever since I read 'Infinite Jest' by David Foster Wallace, I've been dying to read 'Gravity's Rainbow' by Pynchon to which it gets alot of comparisons. But 'Gravity's Rainbow' is hugeongous, although not as big as 'Infinite Jest', granted. But I wanted to read something slightly smaller by Pynchon first, just to test the water. And so after reading 'Lot 49', I am definitely queueing up 'Gravity's Rainbow'. Pynchon is hilarious, labrynthine, and ingenious.
I saved my most eagerly anticipated read for last: 'Mathematicians In Love' by Rudy Rucker. Have I said how much I love Rucker? I'm sure I have. Actually it's funny; if I had read Pynchon before I posted about Rucker a few back, I'd have said something inane like: Rucker is a mix of Thomas Pynchon, Douglas Adams, a hyper-perpindiculate writer to Philip K. Dick, and something else all his own because no one else has ever done that. All that being said, 'Mathematicians' isn't his best, I think. So carry on and start with 'White Light', but eventually 'Mathematicians' is still totally worth it. It's about what happens when two friendly competeing mathematicians love the same girl, and then discover a proof having something to do with wave functions and predictive systems or something that allows them to put their talents where their other brains are. Fantastic.
So you see, I've got lots of time on my hands. Today I did a little bit of spelunking; there's a really big cave in the middle of the jungle and I got a guided tour. I saw a HUGE cave spider. I got this picture, of course:

Bigger than my hand but not Shelob-size. Also bats, and those stalagmite and stalacite thingies. It took about two hours to crawl through the whole thing. Nifty, but no eye surgery. Then I went on a longtail boat tour of the mangrove mudflats they have on the island here... saw a bunch of fiddler crabs and monkeys. Fiddler crabs are pretty.

I even saw a mudskipper, which I think I got a little too excited about, because I got a lot of funny looks. But you know, Muddy Mudskipper! From Ren & Stimpy!... Right?
Anyway, out of sheer ennui, tomorrow I'm going scuba diving again. Ho hum hum drum.

Oh Pity! I Can Feel Your Pitying Eyes Burning Into My Heart Even As Far Away As I Have Run To Thailand! Pity Me Not, However, For Good Times Will Come Again, Someday...

Here's a picture I took that I didn't get to post in my last entry. I call it; 'Boy Shocked By The Monkey.'

Well anyway, I said it would be awhile. It’s hard to post when things are as crazy and hectic and as full of obligations as my last week in Thailand has been. I mean, it wasn’t easy several days ago, (I’ve lost track of what day it is, my head is so empty from my busy schedule) finding a place to stay that had the right mix of infrastructure (restaurants, bars, dive shops, motorbike rental) and also a quiet stretch of beach to live on that had that good get-away-from-it-all feeling that everyone seems to crave on their family holidays so much. In Thailand, it seems it’s either that full-tilt pandemonious crowd-seeking thing where the object is more to party than to relax, (Ko Samui, Ko Phi Phi, or Phuket) or to find that small, barely inhabited island where all there is is the beach and you, and if you’re lucky a place that serves food. (Ko Jam)
So, after much head-scratching research and hard, slogging footwork, I found the best of both worlds. I have actually found what I believe to be the best spot in Thailand, though I suppose you could ask any one of a million Thailand enthusiasts and they would each say something different, suggest that they know of a better spot for relaxation. There’s something for everyone somewhere in this country. But let me tell you what I have found: A bungalow operation, my own humble domicile being a 30 second saunter from clean white sand, with an outdoor restaurant serving incredibly good Thai food (The Pad Thai! Oh my!) by little smiling sing-song Thai girls right on the beach, with an excellent view of the ocean. At night there are wood-carved lanterns, hanging from a large leafy tree in the center of the dining area, swaying in the breeze while the sounds of the quiet ocean and Bob Marley, Jack Johnson, Bob Dylan, various Buena Vista Social Clubbers, occasional Jimmy Hendrix, Astrud Gilberto, and even Lemon Jelly and Belle & Sebastian, waft lazily from the adjacent bamboo bar, where long-haired tattooed Thai guys, who look like they meant to go to Jamaica but wound up here, sling drinks and smiles of ultimate sanguinity. A scrawny goofy-smiled Thai lad, who reminds me of the kid from ‘Dazed and Confused’, DJs from a small enclosure behind the bar and with a single-minded intensity flips through his CD book, always trying to pick out the next, perfect song, and every night plays the exact same set nonetheless. A wooden placard hanging over the entrance reads: “Most people see the world as it is and ask, ‘Why?’ We see the world as it isn’t and ask, ‘Why not?’” This, I believe, references more of a “Why not have a drink or a nap or play a game of hackey sack on the beach with us?” sort of attitude than a call to greater productivity, as it initially sounds. The beach itself is a half-moon shape about a kilometer long, creating an enclosed area on which I’ve never seen more than thirty people at one time, and often it is empty, the clear sea-green waves beckoning one for a private swim.
Yes, life here is hard. Every day I am faced with having to make hard decisions, such as: Do I sleep in? Do I get up and try to accomplish something? The day I arrived, for instance, it was already 2 o’clock in the afternoon by the time I settled my small bag of belongings into my bungalow, and after some deep thought, decided on activity. I rented a motorbike from the family who owns the bungalow operation, and drove the length and breadth of this island, discovering an old town inhabited by Thais and not very visited, and a Sea Gypsy villiage, where a Thai man in dreadlocks was whittling at something and gave me a crooked smile, being used to curious gawkers, I imagine.

The next day I went scuba diving… I’d forgotten how much I love scuba diving. The last time I went was seven years ago in Croatia. I needed a refresher course, which I thought I would have to do class and swimming pool time for, but no. I went to the dive shop, got all the gear thrown at me by a beach-bum lookin’ Thai as I walked through the entrance, got shoved onto a boat with several other divers, and was given a quick rundown, verbally, of diving procedure on the way to the dive site. When we got there, the beach bum Thai dive leader said “Now you ready! Get you gear on, follow me!”

It was, despite my initial panic and fear of getting nitrogen narcosis or the bends, fantastic. It came back to me pretty quickly, the conservation of motion necessary while flying with the fishes. I saw moray eels and tons of exotic fish of all sizes and colors swimming about the coral studded with starfish and sea anemones, lobsters, a sea turtle, went into an undersea cave, did a few flips just for the freedom of it. There was an underwater photographer along for the ride, and he got this shot of us and the sea turtle. I am the bald guy directly under the turtle.

The days following from then until now have sort of gotten run together in my head. All that busyness, you know. One day I sat around a lot, drinking amazing fruit drinks brought to me in the shade on the beach and feeling the pain of activity seeping in, that sort of full body-tiredness one feels when one has been doing more than is good for oneself. (And oh, those fruit drinks… I tell you, in the west when you drink fruit juices, all you are getting is flavor, and sugar. Here, you get fruit in a glass. I’ve never tasted such a great thing. I mean, back home there are juice bars where they blend up fruit and give you the freshest drink possible, but it’s still not the same. I think it must be because of the way they grow their fruit here, or because of the particular strains they have. At any rate, believe me when I tell you, Thai fruit drinks rule the most) I rode an elephant at some point, to a rather pitiful waterfall (it being the dry season here) and a cave in which tigers used to live inside the jungle which dominates the center of the island, seeing a large cobra slithering by and a large black poisonous spider of undetermined type hanging in his web along the way.

Another time I took a boat ride to a small uninhabited island nearby where we were allowed to jump out and do some snorkelling… Which, after scuba diving I would have thought would be anticlimactic, but was in fact another fantastic way of interacting with coral life. They provided fish food, and it was a wondrous feeling, being surrounded by hundreds of exotic fish nibbling out of my hand, occasionally having my arm, fingers or even my back bitten gently by them as if they thought that I also might be tasty. I wasn’t, I suppose. Lucky for me.
However, all this hard work has had side-effects, of course. So much so that one day, being so wearied with the labours of this so-called vacation, I was forced to utilize the cabana which sits outside the restaurant, a bit closer to the beach and ocean, where they have employed four chattering, strong-fingered Thai women to relax the aching backs and muscles of their clientele with an hour and a half of traditional Thai massage. And this ain’t your grandma’s massage, neither. Those tiny little girls with their tiny little fingers will tear you up! They pull out your muscles from their cramped hiding spaces and lay them down, ship-shape and no-nonsense, back where they belong! Also, after several hours of snorkelling, my 45 spf sun-block having fled from my body quite naturally in the sea water, I received an awful sunburn on my back, and was duly obligated to re-visit the cabana for some perilous after-sun treatment. Ice-soaked towels applied repeatedly for half an hour, chilling me to the spine and back again! And then some sort of medicinal compound gently massaged in. Of course there is no total cure for sunburn, other than time, and I still feel some achiness even today as I recline on soft blankets in the shade of a tree here on the beach, trying to convey to you the hardness of my travails. Life is hell, and travel is its spiked whip, it is indeed.
Actually, this is the first proper vacation I’ve ever taken with a beach and tropicalia and loads of nothing to do and all that, excepting of course the family ones my parents brought me along to the Jersey shore for as a child. My first proper vacation as a hard-working adult, I should say… no need to make any comments, the snark is built-in. But seriously, no one ever told me how difficult and full of tests such a vacation can be! Never again! From now on in, it’s back to hypertrekking in strange and possibly dangerous places on my holidays, no more of this island paradise insanity. I hope I’ve been able to impart to you some of the reasons why these sorts of trips are best avoided. Who needs scuba, beach relaxation and friendliness when you could be roaming the unfriendly clime of northern Iraq with an Iraqi family you trust more than the Americans? Or being harangued by Egyptian touts while trying to view the Great Pyramids, then getting sick three different ways from some unnamed Nile virus? Or strolling down the streets of Fez where nobody leaves you alone and everybody trying to sell you something? Or getting whipped by drunken demons in a chill Bavarian night in December? Or sneaking across the Israeli/Palestine border in an attempt to get to Bethlehem with only one day to spare before your flight to Moscow leaves from Amman, Jordan? Or drinking absinthe in the Vatican? Or flying in a communist-era Russian Mig-25 fighter plane to the edge of space? Who needs a week of laborious fun on a tropical island when you could have all that? Well, don’t worry about me too much, dear friends. I only have four more days of this dull torture before I leave for Bangkok to have my eyeballs sliced open for refractive laser surgery, so soon I’ll be out of this dreary hell for some real excitement.