It's Easy

I want to remind myself (and all of us) how easy it is to be happy. Be who you are, choose what feels good, and dance. Always dance.

photos © Ivar Vong

Missing the Mustache

Poster for my bedroom wall, inspired by a text from the boyfriend, who always seems to be out of town.

Weathering the Weather

The sun disappears for most of the winter here. You just have to keep right on living, knowing that it's still there, that it's waiting for the moment when you really can't take the gray for one more day, that it will show up when you need it the most. This is the way it is. Periods of gray can can be brutal. Broken relationships, crappy jobs, loss, injuries, heartache. You just have to keep going. Pretend like the sun is out, and do whatever it is you normally do. Embrace your support. Family, friends, hugs, and little daily joys will be your mud boots, down vest and rain coat. Just keep walking, running, working, riding, hiking, trying. Pretend you enjoy it until you actually DO enjoy it. The sun is still there, and it will show up. The perfect job, a new friend, a vacation, a boyfriend (or girlfriend) that brings you flowers and tea in the morning. When the rays finally do hit your face you have GOT to take the time to sit and enjoy. Bask in the way it makes you forget it ever left, take a deep breath and enjoy the warmth. It's so much better after the rain, it's always worth the wait.

Where IS Heidi?

Where have I been? I have been happy. I have been learning how to ask and how to listen. I have been trusting my instincts and being pleasantly surprised by the outcome. I have been taking it slow and growing at a rapid pace. I have been laughing and breathing and drinking lots of water. I have been loving and loved. I have also just eaten an entire box of triple ginger snaps. Happy 2012 everyone! May this year bring you knowledge, growth, health, love, and delicious cookies.

Love to Run, Run to Love

I quit trail running a couple of years ago. I'm sure I had some sort of "logical" reason at the time... shin splints... poison oak... inconvenience... but the truth is, it was hard. It was just hard. Today I woke up and decided that it wasn't hard, and I believe I just went on the best run of my life. It was steep, I was fast (faster than when I used to run this particular trail every day), and I was smiling the whole way. Did I mention I have been drinking a ton and not sleeping this whole wonderful wedding weekend? Oh, and that the snot pouring out of my nose on this run probably indicates that I'm sick? I decided that I am not sick, I have tons of energy, and that I love to run.

There's a tingly feeling I get sometimes when I am doing yoga. It's a lovely mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration and I savor it every time it takes me over. Today I realized I get the same feeling when I run but I have been associating it only with the exhaustion and have been leaving out the exhilaration, because running is supposed to be hard. I let the exhilaration in and it payed off in a big way. Where else have I, you, we been leaving out the exhilaration? Embrace the joy when life has you breathing heavy, cramping up, dripping snot, because that's what we're here to do. I love to run, running is easy, and running is returning the favor by teaching me how to love this life that is supposed to be hard, but can actually be easy if you let yourself feel the joy.

You're Doin' Great!

Today I feel weird, not weird as in the-full-moon-is-making-everyone-crazy (that was yesterday) and not weird as in I'm-going-to-do-something-extreme-like-the-master-cleanse, more weird as in I'm-going-to-write-my-first-blog-in-months, or weird as in I'm-confused-as-to-why-I-don't-feel-mind-blowingly-awesome. And I guess that's what it comes down to... I don't feel great but I don't feel bad. Maybe that's the point. To remain in a blissful state so that your "down" days are still better than bad. This summer has been supremely satisfying and here is some evidence;

Hearts of Gold

i can't remember the last time i received as many compliments as i did last night and from so many amazing humans. i also can't think of a better compliment than "you are a giant ball of awesomeness."

thank you thank you my friends, old and new
balls of awesomeness, all of you.

One thing at a time

I believe I have discovered another after-effect of extended travel. I am only capable of accomplishing one thing per day. Maybe that's not the right way to put it. What I mean is I feel accomplished after doing one thing in a day. Today I called my credit card company and got them to reverse a $20 late fee. The best part is that I was able to do this through their automated system. Never mind that I also wanted to speak to a representative to address the fact that I never received the actual card in the mail and could therefor not set up an automated online payment. I will save that problem for another day! Tomorrow maybe. As soon as I got that confirmation number I was ready for ice cream and beer. I also need to do some laundry so it looks like I will be tied up for a few days as one load counts as a thing to accomplish. This system works great as long as I don't set my goals too high. If I put "Learn Spanish" on my to-do list, I will be enormously disappointed in myself. "Learn Dictionary.com's word of the day" is more reasonable.

Irenic: (adjective) promoting peace.

Done.

Angkor Hot

It is hot. Really hot. Idiotically hot. Hotter than you can imagine. Go on, imagine it... it is hotter than that. I have expelled at least 3 liters of sweat. This is Scientific Fact. I have consumed 3 liters of water and haven't peed once, not once, not since 7am. It is now 5:30pm. The aforementioned sunburn is blistering as water tries desperately to escape through reluctant skin. At the first temple, Bataey Kdei, I purchased a small traditional Khmer scarf for $1, the purpose of which is to mop up the salty sea bursting forth from my pores. It has never before occurred to me to put on a scarf when I am hot. This kind of heat defies logic. The scarf is alternately used to soak up the beads of perspiration accumulating on my face every 2 seconds, to shield the sun from my face and neck, and as a miniature swamp cooler. Riding my bike creates an artificial breeze and the dampness of the drenched scarf feels good against my skin. My camera is so hot and damp it has trouble focusing, like me. The sun beats coherent thought out of my brain and only a string of profanities remains. The puddle at my back will not dry. It will still be wet later when I toss it into the sink for laundering and I marvel at the great rings of salt marking the sea's outer limits. It was all worth it. The temples of Angkor are indescribable. I'm not even going to try. The pictures will not do it justice. You're going to have to go experience it for yourself.

Bikes? Bikes!

Excerpt from journal 11.04.2011

Bikes again! This time rented from Mut Mee GH and ridden down to the sculpture park Sala Kaew Ku. The park was constructed over the course of 20 years and the sculptures were cast by a horde of amateurs under the shaman Luang Pu's direction. I'm sorry, did I just limit his title to "shaman"? I meant brahmanic yogi-priest-shaman.

Some children tumble down holes while out playing and maybe break a limb, maybe gain a case of trypophobia (fear of holes, fear of holes... swiss cheese can cause an episode). Other children may climb out unscathed and go on to lead normal lives, whatever that means. Others—well, at least one Luang Pu—tumble down and stumble upon an ascetic named Kaewkoo who reveals the mysteries of the underworld. Luang Pu took his acquired knowledge and created a new religion which blended Hindu and Buddhist beliefs with some of the secular and his sculpture park is an interesting study in their combined iconography. My personal favorite stands at the front of the park, a pack of wild, angry, anthropomorphic dogs driving an elephant out of the garden. The dogs are riding scooters, drinking beers and slinging guns, some sporting enormous erections with nowhere to hide them. This must be why they are so upset. The blushing elephant walks away instead of fighting back, though she could trample the whole lot of debaucherous hounds if she wanted to.

The other fun sculpture was the Wheel of Life. You enter the circle through a giant gaping maw (read: the Jaws of Life) and emerge from the gullet into a walk through the phases of life. We had a handy pamphlet from our GH without which the meaning would be only vaguely discernible. The last statue, representing the final phase of life contained no explanation, only the instructions to consult Julien at Mut Mee. Unfortunately, Julien was in absentia, so we received a brief description of cupid combining two people and shooting your soul's arrow into a new and better life, so begins the circle again. The only way out is to follow the large Buddha who is stepping over the walls and out of the circle. Apparently, Julien's version lasts approximately 2 hours and hopefully leaves the listener with more of an understanding and without questions like "do Hindus and Buddhists have a cupid?"

I wish I had taken more time to ponder each image but at the time I felt the urgent need to rush through the phases of life (which I hope is not symbolic) in order to save my burning red epidermis from an untimely death. I ran to the vendors and became the proud owner of a thin cotton shirt adorned with elephants and bells. If I sweat enough the dyes will bleed onto my skin and make it look as though I am very badly burned. But the damage is easily washed off everywhere except my shoulders and nose which are currently slathered in aloe. No worries, my little Buddhist skin cells die and are reincarnated every moment, though I doubt cupid has anything to do with it.

Boob Tubers

The bus ride from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng in winding and jittery. Whenever I lay back my head to sleep, we hit a bump and the headrest slams into me as if to say "wake up, woman! Look out the window!" In the haze that comes with the consumption of one beer lao at the rest stop, I oblige. Limestone cliffs loom behind a smoky haze, teasing me with their beauty. If they are this lovely when shrouded in a burning season veil... Quietly I imagine them at their full potential. Sleep eludes me, as always. A few rows up, I enviously watch Ian's relaxed head bobbing with the motion of the bus. At least I have my limestone.

We pull into town and our lazy tuk tuk driver will only take us to the center of town. Our favored guesthouse is just outside of town, so we walk. The street is lined with identical signs, yellow with a large bottle of beer lao plastered down the side, only the text varies from sign to sign. Doesn't really matter, since the restaurants boast seemingly identical menus. The hordes of frat boy tubers I've been warned about are nowhere in sight,but neither is the stunning landscape that supposedly keeps travelers like me coming to a place that has a bad reputation as teenage party central. Then we take a turn and the Nam Song river stretches far in both directions. As we approach our guesthouse, I become sure that we will stay slightly longer than planned. Maylyn GH has adorable little bungalows scattered across a peaceful garden next to a stream. Cows graze in a meadow 100 feet away, their bells tinkling with each movement. We are shown a bungalow with a patio that looks out to rows of jagged cliffs. The sun is low in the sky and everything is shimmering with a golden glow. I can't believe we almost breezed through this town.

At night, I am craving meat–red meat–due to my 14-day-long period, most likely. That was fun. We head to a place in town called Whopping Burger and holy cow! (If cows are holy this burger is surely a deity.) Delicious double-patty garlic mayo goodness. I rarely crave meat, and never a burger (especially in SE Asia) but this puppy is totally worth it. I thank the cows in the meadow.

We walk home through the center of town. There are restaurants where all of the cushions face forward so that every zoned-out teenager has a great view of the friends reruns playing on the television. Always Friends, every restaurant. No, wait, there is Family Guy. This is supply and demand, what the tourists want. Whatever happened to visiting other cultures (question mark not currently available on this Cambodian computer) Rows of shop hawking bikinis and short skirts in an otherwise conservative community. The local women swim fully clothed and I mean fully--I have seen women in jeans and sweatshirts in the river. I wonder what this town was like ten years ago before the bros, buckets and bleached blondes took over. The drunken douche bags hardly notice the scenery and the whiskey-fueled debauchery doesn't lend itself to the surroundings. At least it is amusing to look out onto the street while munching on your dinner and count the number of bandages and crutches that walk by. Ya hear that, kids (insert question mark) Limestone and booze don't mix.

Vilayvahn Guesthouse, Luang Prabang, Laos

Excerpt from journal 02.04.2011

Luang Prabang, a land where coffee, water and bananas (in order of importance) flow freely. Ain't no Nescafe either, this is bona-fide coffee Lao. Yum. This town is beautiful and in my moments alone, I walk. The first time I stubled upon Wat Xieng Thong it was mid-day and tourists were milling about with their cameras and conversations in many tongues. The second time was yesterday. It was dusk and as I approached the pink and muraled temple grounds my breath slowed, my heart slowed and time slowed. The dusty colors appeared even more serene in the lingering minutes after the golden hour. Not a tourist in sight (aside from my pale self) and the monks were gathered in the temple, their chant floating out the windows, past my ears and continuing their journey across the Mekong. I would have stayed in the embrace of their echos, but the voices came to an end and a novice monk carried an orange and yellow arrangement of flowers out of the Wat's doorway and I pondered where he might place such a lovely offering when he dumped it in the shrine to the gods of rubbish. I took this as my cue to leave and I wandered down the long white steps that lead to the river and catch the final moments of what must have been an incredible sunset.

Meandering through residential streets where Laotian families prepare their dinners with doors flung wide open, massage parlors tempt me with their extensive menus of luxurious treatments at budget prices, and little French-style cafes offer buttery croissants and frothy lattes, I head back to the guesthouse.

This town feels good. I am reluctant to leave.

I tried to drag Ian to Wat Xieng Thong a couple of days later and we were forced to pay a fee even as the temple was closing its doors, and the light wasn't the same and time wasn't the same and the monks were silent and I realized that my moment in Luang Prabang was for me and only me, this peaceful city's small offering, and for this I felt immensely grateful.

This morning I rose at dawn to see the monks' alms procession. It was such a sad display of tourists forgetting that these orange-clad Buddhists are actually humans full of feelings and traditions deserving respect. I watched a whale of a woman in glaring white walk down the row of monks, flashing her camera in their faces as she went and pictured her in a Catholic church, squeezing clumsily down the communion line while taking photos of the metaphorical body and blood of Christ.

By the time I got back to the room it was time for our outing with our lovely Canadian friends Michelle & Greg and Big Brother Mouse. This program is really very cool. Local writers create a children's story, local artists illustrate them, and Big Brother Mouse is the publisher. These books are then distributed to small, sometimes very remote Laos villages in the form of a "book party." (You can sponsor one of these parties from Laos, or from abroad via the internet and should you find yourself in Luang Prabang you may join the organization for one of their outings.) Each student gets to take home their own book of choosing and the school director is given a stack of books so that students can swap theirs out for a different one. Most of these kids have never seen a children's book and they got SO excited during story time. One book had a poem about an animal on one page and the kids were supposed to guess the animal. The room erupted into a chant when our guide was about to turn the page and reveal the animal. It was effing adorable. We played field games and learned a new song about Big Brother Mouse and Michelle made a few friends and learned a few names, I learned how to say "goat"in Laotian ("beh", like the noise it makes) and Ian was given a kitty toy from Thao–the incredibly eloquent kid in class who was teaching himself English. He must have been thrilled that many of the books were printed with both Lao and English translations. It was such an amazing experience to share the day with these kids and I am so thankful for Greg and Michelle, who told us all about the program and offered up a large chunk of the donation.

You Can't Always Get...

There's this great thing about traveling in Southeast Asia. You never really know what you are going to get. Our friends Deena and Jamie booked an elephant tour through a travel agent. What they asked for was an All Laos tour--a reputable elephant camp with ethics located 7km outside of town. What they got was a 40 minute tuk tuk ride to the middle of nowhere, and one sad little elephant chained to a tree. Presumably, this was the travel agent running a scam with a buddy or two. When our friends complained, the guides' english skills vanished into thin air. Deena had to fake sobs of distress (the sobs were fake, the distress was real) before they were taken back into town.

Much less harrowing but still somewhat humorous was our visit to the spa yesterday. Ian decided on a facial for his birthday, this particular one was 60 minutes long with an added facial massage. Most of this time was spent alone in a room with some tingling concoction on our faces, but at one point they spread what smelled and felt very much like honey onto our skin and proceeded to smack us lightly with their fingers and pull away quickly. At this point I was positive the substance was honey and the sensation didn't even resemble a massage. When we walked away our skin felt softer and we were only out 7 USD so all was well and I felt no need to use the tactic Deena had to employ. Today I may try a pedicure and I really hope they find a way to involve honey again.

Creepy

Excerpt from travel journal: 25.03.2011

En route to Luang Prabang via slowboat down the Mekong. By far the most pleasant transport yet. Last night there was an earthquake. Big deal. Something else far more shocking happened.

Call me a paranoid tourist, but I ALWAYS have my valuables on my person. This is why it came as a complete and total surprise when I went to pay for my breakfast this morning and all of my little cash stashes were gone (I spread it our it my bag to make it difficult for potential pick-pockets). My mind frantically searched for any moment my bag was not in my possession. Did I leave it unattended during the earthquake? No. Did I leave it in the room when I went to the store? No. It was always on me.

Except... when I... was sleeping...

Even then it was right next to my head. Then the pieces started falling into place; the mysteriously unzipped pockets on my backpack by the window, my missing packet of face wipes, my clothes on the ground when they had been left atop my backpack. Ian tried opening the window, it was smooth and easy, virtually soundless. This is where the creep factor sets in.

Someone climbed INTO our room through the window in the middle of the night.

What I don't understand, but am eternally grateful for, is that the thief took the time to riffle through my things, taking the little pockets of cash while leaving my passport and credit cards.

Alright strange bandit, you only wanted my cash and comodyne face wipes. At a loss of 65 USD, 250,000 K, and 1500 B it could have been worse. So... thank you?

keep on trekkin'

This is a story about six trusty trekkers, the lady boy song, and why I WILL NEVER DRINK LAO LAO AGAIN.

The facts:
3 days/2 nights trek with green discovery. New trail.
One night jungle camp.
One night tribal village.
$86 USD
Meals included.

The players:
Pon (Lao), Chris (Ireland), Malko (Belgium), J.B. (France), Lise (Norway)

They told us it would be one of the more difficult treks. I flexed my biceps and said "sign me up!" We left Luang Namtha in northern Laos and traveled by sawngthaew (a flatbed truck with two rows of seats in the bed) down a dirt road for about an hour into the Nam Ha National Park Area. The first part of the trek took us through some rice paddy fields and on into the forest. After a couple of hours, we stopped in a shady area for lunch where our local guides fashioned a table for us out of banana leaves, then dumped out little mounds of spicy eggplant, friend green beans, fern, and beef with ginger. We were each handed a leaf-wrapped bundle of sticky rice and we dug in. All of our meals were amazingly delicious, but this would prove to be my favorite of the trip. Especially that spicy eggplant. My first taste of traditional Laos food. Spicy food is a natural mosquito repellent and i have been careful to learn "I like it hot and spicy" in the native tongue (mak phet in Laos). We topped our lunch off with a cute little banana and headed up what would prove to be a very steep mountain, with bricks of scrumptious sticky rice expanding in our bellies.

What goes up, must come down and by the time we reached our jungle camp I was pretty sure I had let my leg muscles know that I mean business. No more fat, lazy, relaxing holiday--we are on an ADVENTURE!

Along the way our trekking company guide Pon pointed out some fun and useful edible plants--sour plant stems for hangovers and cow shit tree bark for diarrhea. Pon proved to be an excellent guide and friend who had a penchant for singing while hiking and also playfully flirting with Lise the Norwegian.

Dinner was AWESOME (and I do mean that literally). I had no idea bamboo could be so versatile. You can eat it and turn it into floors and cutting boards—this I know—but with the use of a machete and some ingenuity, you can boil tea, make sticky rice, construct a water pipe, and build an entire camp out of it, as our local guides proved to us with impressive speed and skill. Pon made J.B. a bamboo shotglass and the Lao Lao was passed around the table. This was my first experience with Lao La, a rice liquor... not too bad... not too good... ok, kind of bad. Pretty bad. Mostly just tastes like rubbing alcohol and they drink it everywhere in Laos.

Lise let us in on the fact that Pon wrote a song about Lady Boys which set off a campaign to get Pon to sing the Lady Boy song. "Not enough Lao Lao," he said.

We retired to our bamboo sleeping quarters relatively early and as I passed out I was convinced I was listening to the "Sounds of the Forest" CD from Target.

DAY TWO. Caffe a letto! My sister and I discovered the bliss that coffee in bed can bring while we were traveling together in Italy. Pon must have known that this is the way to my heart because he brought me my coffee in bed–and in a handmade bamboo cup, no less! Sticky rice with egg was on the menu. Make us strong for a day that Pon described as "Not steep. Mostly flat, but longer than the first day." Lise and I would spend the rest of the day pondering Pon's concept of "steep," but the man hikes these trails in flip-flops so we already knew his level of bad-assedness far exceeded our own.

It wasn't too long of a day and I enjoyed hearing Pon repeating my phrases, trying to master the California accent. It has come to my attention that I say "great" far too often.

I think now is a good time to mention the sheer volume of sweat that we were able to produce on this trek. It was shocking. I've never seen anything like it. When we dragged our salty-browed white asses into the village, we walked straight past all of the ridiculously adorable piglets and chicklets, past the colorful hanging laundry photo-ops and right into the river for a bath.

The Lenten tribe children were splashing about, convincing me beyond all doubt something that Angelina Jolie has known for years, white babies are the ugliest of all babies. My favorite pictures of the trip thus far are of these expressive little cuties. Lise let one of the girls borrow her SLR to take pictures of the girl's family. The results are shaky at best but Lise gained a fast friend. This little girl loved both sides of the camera and shows promise of being Laos' Next Top Model.

That evening we were served a candle-lit dinner with a few of the tribe elders. Perhaps you have heard me refer to myself as an "opportunivore." Staying true to my diet, I could not pass up the opportunity to try duck liver, heart and skin in a spicy raw duck blood concoction. It was the least I could do after witnessing the sacrifice and slow bleeding out of the poor little duck. I'm going to go ahead and say it was tasty. Green pumpkin soup, fried bamboo and sticky rice constituted the rest of our meal. This delicious dinner would make an appearance later.

In Laos it is considered rude to refuse if someone offers you a drink. This becomes a problem of epic proportions when bottle after bottle after yes, bottle (one. two. THREE bottles, 'a 'a 'aaa) of Lao Lao shots are being passed around the table. The good news is that we finally got to hear the Lady Boy song. The bad news is obvious.

If I ever wake up with a hangover again, I will be overjoyed knowing that I do not have to climb a mountain. It is absurd to go trekking hungover, but 4 out of 6 of us have done it. I was so miserable the only way to deal with it was humor and I haven't felt this kind of amusement since that one time I accidentally sold art for the Scientologists.

We made it up and over what Pon teasingly called "Farang Hill" (Farang is Lao and Thai for "tourist", and you hear it A LOT), it was a long hot journey, but the trek remains one of the highlights of the trip and i now know that I AM NEVER DRINKING LAO LAO AGAIN.

lucky lucky lucky

it is not lost on me that i am blessed to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth. even the bus ride into laos was spectacular. tomorrow i will be heading out on a 3-day trek into the nam ha national park area. the bed i have been sleeping in (and will be joining in less than ten minutes flat) is the most comfortable thus far in southeast asia. it's $4.50 a night. i met a couple today who has been traveling in southeast asia for 5 years. they live on a tight budget, even for here (they each pay $2 a night at their guesthouse) but... 5 YEARS! yes!

Where Am I?

for a few days it seemed like maybe thailand was just a dream and i'd never left oregon. if it weren't for the delicious sum tam and the cozy guesthouse overlooking the mekong river, i may have forgotten i was on vacation. temperatures dropped to 11 degrees celsius (that's about 52 degrees fahrenheit for us 'mericans). most of the time i was bundled in blankets, drinking beer leo and watching numerous pirated movies with other travelers, which wasn't bad... it just wasn't what i expected. it's been the little joys each day that remind me what a glorious life i am leading. i have been able to sleep in as late as i please, taking little damp bicycle rides into town for the best coffee i've had thus far on the journey (a place called bamboo mexican house in the border town of chiang khong... the owners are very friendly and they bake fresh bread for their sandwiches, make an incredible pumpkin soup and they have a sweet spotted dog named salsa). they didn't at all mind us sitting and playing card games, reading, drawing and journaling for hours until the rain let up enough to head back to the guesthouse.

it's been great to stay in one place for a while, but tomorrow we must say goodbye to baanrimtaling guesthouse and chiang khong for we head to nam ha national park for a trekking adventure, then on to luang prabang for another extended stay.

Thailand

Notes for Next Time

(and there will be a next time)

1. more dresses
2. less lotion
3. make note of thai holidays, do not travel on those holidays (especially if your digestion is in a questionable state)
4. you will want to buy everything the hill tribes craft. resist.
5. drink water. then drink more water.

Thailand S01E01

Excerpt from travel journal:

10.03.11 09:22

Ayutthaya -> Sukhothai

The night before last we ended up in Ayutthaya due to a minor transportation misunderstanding, The Lopburi bus driver told us "no" for reasons the language barrier prevented us from understanding. The Ayutthaya bus driver noticed this and sais "Lopburi" while furiiously nodding his head and pointing to his bus. We, understandably, took this to mean he was headed to Lopburi. A couple of hours later we pulled up in Atutthaya and our driver motioned for us to get off, pointing some distance up the road, again furiously nodding his head and saying "Lopburi." Ohhhhhh... I see... from here we could take out third very sweaty and bumpy bus ride to Lopburi.

Uh uh.

A small amount of searching landed us in Chantana Guesthouse. Quiet, 2 beds, private bathroom, 500 Baht.

Uh huh.

After showering off whatever had made me inexplicably sticky from head to toe, we went on a meandering night walk in search of ancient ruins rumored to be lit up for a couple of hours each night. What we discovered was undeniably gorgeous. Standing near these ruins, nary another tourist in sight, you couldn't help but feel the former greatness embodied in these walls and temples. Ayutthaya was the capital of Siam for over 400 years. Named after Ayudhya (Sanscrit for "unconquerable")it was dubbed by the first Western visitors from Portugal as the "Venice of the East."

Packs of wild dogs (found everywhere in Thailand, these dogs test my ability to refrain from petting everything cute and fuzzy--they do bite) were our only company as we wandered the ancient city and I was grateful for mistakenly ending up there. Happy accidents are part of the journey and so far I adore my journey through Thailand. The people are always willing to offer a smile and the food--oh, the food--sweet, spicy, sour & savory. Always a perfect blend and i love a meal that makes me sweat.