သွားတော့မယ် Burma & สวัสดี Thailand

The thought already came up in the first week in Burma; am I going to stay for four weeks? The answer has been pretty clear as off that moment. NO. Back then it seemed a pretty good (ie. fast and cheap) option to go to Thailand. As I continued doubting my choice it became a costly choice. But it's been a really good choice, one that I haven't regretted for a moment. As well as I haven't regretted any moment I spent in Burma (well hardly any moment then).

So I take off to Koh Samui. If you'd ask me to point it out on a map before going, I wouldn't have been able too (now I can; I've had more than enough time to do ... nothing at all). But taking off was at least challenging. The last moment a couple of crucial things almost went wrong. At that moment I didn't know yet that the ALMOST went wrong and it felt as if some things were SERIOUSLY going wrong.


After having been for a stroll to go for great breakfast I was perfectly in time to await the arrival of my taxi. Quick shower. Ensure no scissors ended up in carry on luggage. Passport. PASSPORT? Slight strike of panic. Where is my passport? It's not at it's usual hide-away. I can hear my mum's voice not long before I left; 'don't be so sloppy with your passport'. I can also hear her voice telling me to follow step by step what I've done, when did I last use it. After my quick search I head for the reception. I ask them to start looking for it. I quite sure that I didn't get it back when I checked in. I head back up. I'm sweating. The airco is at it highest power. I turn everything upside down. My head spins. What does it mean if I lost it. What is the sequence; police, embassy? I'll then for sure miss my expensive flight. I really don't have. I run down the stairs. The staff glares at me with an empty expression. I ask if they've already found my passport. They haven't searched any further. Friendly patience is now replaced by authoritarian directivity. I tell them to pull the copy machine from it's awkward position and check it. They won't believe me that my passport can be there, but in the end my first intuition was perfectly right. Angrily I head back up again. Later I realise that it is my own mistake in the end; I'd been sloppy with the most important thing I carry with me. Mothers are always so right.
When I come down for my ride to the airport my taxi hasn't arrived yet. I ask for it. Oh they'd forgotten about it. I urge them to call a taxi to arrive soon. They want to inform me that I still have plenty of time. At some point I explode. Not much is happening and time is ticking. I don't have much time anymore as half an hour went by. I come to realise that they've probably never taken a flight. So when a flight is at two, they might think that arrival at five to two is perfectly right. The later it got the higher the prices of the taxis got. I was blessed with a driver who knew how to speed up. On the way I managed to relax a bit. The car couldn't go much faster and there was nothing more I could do. Upon arrival on the airport the ground staff was already awaiting me at the door telling me I was late (as if I didn't know). I made it in time. When I could sit and reflect upon the situation I realised that it was again me who'd made a mistake. I trusted people who've never travelled to ensure my safe and smooth travels. In a country like Burma I should have done the time calculation myself, making sure that there's enough opportunity for flaws.
The flight to Bangkok is delayed. A ground staff girl locked herself in the plane. We cannot take-off before the slides are disembarked again. I make it in time to my connecting flight, but later it will become apparent that my luggage did not make it. We're requested to fill out the details of the place where we're staying. I don't have them as I have a pick up. I call the resort, but the phone number doesn't work. I've filled out the name of the resort, but feel restles. Once I've found the driver I ask about the address. The driver doesn't speak English. Someone helps. I get to speak to a girl on the phone. Again I get upset. The girl doesn't speak proper English but keeps saying she understands but doesn't act upon it. The guy who helped in the translation is gone. Almost desperate I give it another try, using the most simple words I can think of. She understands and also tells me laconically that the phone number on the website is incorrect. I count till a hundred, bite my lip and try to stay somewhat calm. The most important is the address. Next annoyance. The driver cannot accompany me to write down the address for my luggage. In the end I get it written on a paper by an airport official. Tired I step in the car taking me to the resort. I sit back and reflect. Again I conclude it's my own mistake; I should be better prepared and ensure I have details.

Time for holidays. And for a cleanse. I detox, do yoga and do nothing for 5 days. I dreaded detoxing, but the more I advance the better it makes me feel. After the yoga class in the morning I read and wander along the coastline. The first time I walk in the direction of the nearest village. Stunned I discover I really am very unique here; I'm the only one who doesn't have pumped up tits and not a single tattoo! It probably is really naive but I'm also sadly amazed by the number of white skinned, rather ugly and quite old men with tiny, young and beautiful Thai women. I'd hoped it was more of a cruel fairytale. But it's the cruel reality. It makes me reflect upon the society we live in. How come these men are so desperate they basically buy women? Is it because being alone is if we're really honest not yet that much accepted? Walk in any restaurant alone and they prefer to tuck you away in a corner. Is it because these men maybe don't meet the advertisement standard looks? What is it? I don't know the answer. I turn around and stay in my safe cocoon for a couple of days.
After the detox I'll head for a place where yoga is key. It's the place I'd intended to book for my entire stay, but I could only stay for the last couple of days. And that's fine, as the detox was really good at the other place. But when I get to Vikasa Yoga I stand still and hold back for a moment. The cafe, restaurant and chill out area is built at the top of a cliff. A maze of stairs leads to the infinity pool overlooking the greens hills disappearing in the azure ocean from a dazzling height and the yoga shala is a grand white tent overlooking the ocean from another angle surrounded by palm trees and colourful plants housing a wide variety of huge butterflies that flutter through the shala. From my bamboo hut I can also see and hear the ocean. When I climb the stairs for 3 minutes I plunge in crystal clear water. It's a community on it's own and I feel privileged to stay here. I deep dive into yoga, great healthy food, inspiring conversations and feel utterly blessed and totally re-energized when I head back home. I'm ready for 2016!