Category Archives: Thailand Tales

Thai Cuisine Part Two: Where’s The Hidden Chili?

Posted on by
Reply

Following on from my last post about Pina Coladas, Pad Thai and pig out breakfasts, I’m going to put on my more serious foodie and talk about some of the finer eating in Phuket.

Whilst we sunned it up in Phuket we were determind to experience some champion seafood. That could be either brilliant or risky… it’s Thai belly haven for sure if we got it wrong, but how could we not attempt after witnessing the local fisherman buzz up and down passed the resort every single morning with net fulls. There was definitely something big and juicy out there to catch and it definitely had to get in our bellies quick smart.

Some of the fisherman’s catch about to be sold

And who know’s what these are? Clams perhaps? I never did find out since the fisherman did not speak a word other than Thai

We were worded up by a couple of locals who worked at the resort to go see ‘a guy’ in the local village. It’s always best to get ’the know’ from the locals no matter where you are I figure. In this case, our ‘guy’ despite being infamous for selling the freshest fish, his catch looked a little ‘fishy’ (pardon the pun). You’ve got to remember that many markets and villages don’t have fancy pancy refrigeration systems like we take for granted. Actually at large they don’t have any refrigeration at all. You’re lucky if the flies are kept off them. All the same, we wern’t going to except anything drastically below our western standards. Sitting food out in the stinking heat surely has to give anyone (bar the locals) a rotten bought of Thai belly and we wern’t feeling that risky.

Instead we played it safe. Well, as safe as you can get in Thailand and headed to a somewhat tatty restaurant (they all are though aren’t they?) known for it’s seafood. It turns out this is where all the local fishermans net fulls end up. They had a staggering range of dishes on the menu which made the ordering process painful. I suffer servere indecisiveness in such situations. So much so I irritate myself. I’m not sure how we narrowed it down but we ended up having Sweet Chili Crab (probably my friends in the basket) & Chili Prawns. Nothing too adventurous but at least we knew what we were getting. We have always been friends with Chili. Chili appears in a large portion of our home cooking but nothing can prepare you for Thai Chili. They don’t just use sprinklings. It’s often by the hand full I’d say and you can guarantee that it will be in even the most unsuspecting dish. We liked to look for the hidden chili in everything we ate. It was a bit of a game and sure enough it would turn up ready to bite your mouth off. Whether you found it before that moment or not was pot luck. It could seriously take your breath away. Even on pizza after specifying “no hot chilli please” it blew us away. Obviously that sentence doesn’t translate. Little Vick was not pleased. He was onto it early and refused to try most Thai dishes after coping a mouth full of it accidentally. From that moment on he lived on a diet of mostly yoghurt and fruit. This is a boy who eats everything. He has a very adventurous pallet. Luckily he stayed at kids club on this particular day when we really asked for it. 2 dishes with Chili in the dishes title. When we gave our order the Thai waiter monotonously asked us in his broken English how hot we wanted the prawns dish. Not spicey, mild or hot? My eyes bulged when Mr Vick replied confidently ”hot please”. The waitor awoke from his haze and asked us to confirm that again whilst his accompanying waitress let out a bit of shocked giggle. We were in for it. I got the feeling by the way the cute little waitress shrieked that not even she would attempt to eat this dish. I sat and waited preparing to have every single taste bud burnt off. Sure enough the dish did not disapoint. The prawns looked so deliciously fresh. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth around them. The chili couldn’t be bad enough to stop me. HA! I pulled up very quickly. The sauce was UNBEARABLE! It was the kind of dish that burn’t your belly before it even hit your lips. Still, I gave it a shot. I had a good half a dozen fork fulls determind to enjoy the prawns but after a bit I nibbled on the crab instead, which was fresh, fluffy and delightfully sweet. Perhaps it was a matter of pride or the fact he had to prove himself to the waiters that Mr Vick ate the entire prawn dish. I kid you not. I have not seen a man sweat so profusely from the brow over a simple prawn dish. He was on fire, puffing from the mouth, but still determined. I sat back and watched wondering why you would do it to yourself and wondering what the after effects might be. Needless to say the very next day Mr Vick feel quite ill for the remainder of our trip and developed a lifelong grudge towardsThailand. Little Vick and I remained unscathed and happy tourists.

Before we left that tatty seafood restuarant we did manage to purchase some fresh fish to cook ourselves for dinner. But not before a few perplexed looks from the waiters. They thought we wanted to them to cook it first and for us to take it away. Seems no tourist had ever cooked for themselves here.  We choose our little fishy straight from the waters of a cement tank beside the kitchen. Couldn’t complain about the freshness here. It was a medium sized Sea Bass which cost us about 700 baht or approximately $10.30 - more than if we had them cook it in a dish for us in their restuarant. We were slow to catch on to the fact that we were being stooged big time! But we were on holiday, all care free so we tottled home for some home cooked Thai fish for dinner and loved every bite. It was one of the softest, fluffiest fish flesh I have had the delight to experience. Worth every bit of the $10.30 and we got to say we cooked our own Thai seafood dish using local (caught in the ocean waters viewed from the resort) catch!

Thai belly is almost guaranteed if you’re a traveller in Thailand. It’s takes even the most careful traveler as it’s victim that’s why I would recommend you take some kind of hydration salts ‘in case’. We made friends and out of all of us (there was 8), there was only 3 of us who didn’t get Thai belly at some point during the trip. Little Vick and I were two of those 3 (we are ace clearly). There is something going on with the Thai’s bellies that makes them like iron steal. They are not so susceptible to the bugs and bacteria that makes us so violently ill. They’re clearly used of unrefrigerated meat and more casual hygene standards. Lets face it if a food inspector went to Thailand they would resign on the spot before they even got started. It’s their worst nightmare! I don’t think the Thai’s would even know what a food inspector is so they can sell pretty much anything. You need your radar on to spot dodgy looking options and preferably steer clear from the local street vendor who has oodles of aromatic food sizzling away for a small price. If you want to travel cheaply to Thailand you eat from these vendors, but at your own risk. A risk I couldn’t take whilst travelling with a vulnerable toddler. We were all actually so vulnerable. I was continually looking at food carts asking the question how long has that meat been sitting out in the heat for? Thai belly fear meant we mainly ate at ok looking restaurant’s and at the resort where we paid western prices for western standards. Thailand’s infamous cheap travel label is a myth in my opinion. If you want to live on the more dangerous side and eat as locals would, sure it’s cheap. If you want to keep your bowel in tact you need to pay compariable western prices for standards. It’s a question of how much you value your health over your pennies?

It means I missed out on some adventurous looking food. The food at markets are a sight and worth a look even if you have little intention of tasting. I saw things on sticks with legs that I have never seen before, nor can I name. I wish I’d taken photos (WHY DIDN’T I????)Markets are mostly good on the pocket so it can make for a good outing and a few cheap purchases of sunglasses and tshirts. The markets in Phuket town had a pungent smell of the streets which was a mix of sweat, rotting vegetables and unknown herbs. Not a smell to make one hungry or want to buy their food. The all time bestest market you could experience is the weekend Phuket Town Night Markets. They are buzzing with locals and tourists EVERYWHERE and I say if the locals shop there, it must be cheap! There are sunglasses, tshirts, wallets, watches, gimmicks galore and of course food food food. A must do for sure for any bargain or market lover.

It goes without saying that you need to ALWAYS drink bottled water. A fellow traveller we knew was struck down with gastro after ordering a tea based drink whilst out in Phuket town. Seems the ice cubes put it in where not from the bottled water variety.

Thai Cuisine is all about great food, and not so great food. It’s hit or miss. It’s either fresh or slightly dodgy. It’s often an unforeseeable experience. Sometimes you need to dodge a bullet when you’re choosing but mostly you couldn’t get a tastier dining experience. Meet Mr Thai Green Curry below:

 Nothing wrong with their fruit bars…. YUMMMO!!!!

A fruit cart moving with the traffic….

 

Thai Cuisine Part One: Pina And Me

Posted on by
2

I’m a long time Thai cusine lover. I’ve put in many hours of ‘sampling’ this foreign cuisine which is why I was pretty delighted at the prospect of again ‘sampling’, hold up, that’s an outright fabrication (there was never such intention), correction, gorging myself on the real deal on our recent travels to Phuket.

You may remember on my ”must do” list (that I wrote prior to jetting off), a little quest to enjoy Pad Thai every single day whilst in the Thai tropics. Easy peasy right? ‘Cos let’s be real. If you’re a Pad Thai lover, and I mean – you have Thai and you cannot go past the Pad Thai EVERY SINGLE TIME, then of course you’re going to be hyperventalating about the prospect of getting a daily fix AND knowing that the real deal is going to taste 10 times BETTER!

I can confirm that I did put in a stellar effort, however I came up a bit short. I enjoyed Pad Thai about 6-7 days out of the 10 that we were there. I think it could be said I am nothing short of a Pad Thai champion however. It was the first meal I ordered upon arrival in Thailand and it was the final meal that I enjoyed on departing Thailand. I have to say, yes it was good, but to be honest I’ve had comparable Pad Thai here in Geelong. It’s good to know that they use authentic recipes here but sheezers, I just travelled half way around the globe (ok, maybe just a quater) to eat some cracking good Pad Thai and it was just as we would know it down at our local?

Didn’t stop me eating it but. I mean, come on, just look at it….

The next thing I would like to bring up is Pina Colada, Pina Colada, Pina Colada. I don’t think I had ever had one before I arrived in Phuket. I don’t know how ‘she’d’ slipped by me before in life. It can hardly be claimed as an authentic Thai cocktail yet still she is worth a mention as she accompanied me by the pool, overlooking the beach, she quenched my thirst after exploring for the day and was an excellent accompaniment with whatever Thai cuisine I ordered. She is apart of my permanent memories of Thailand. Me and Pina were very happy. She is a girls best friend and I refer to her as a ’she’ because it clearly isn’t a bloke when she presents herself so beautifully. Always, she arrived in a freshly cracked coconut which had probably fallen just metres from where I took my sips and with a delicate Frangipani or piece of fresh lime.

So much effort can only make the drinker feel privilaged. I had no qualms about paying them to make me feel privilaged and special although I think I can hold Pina accountable for at least 2 kg’s of weight that arrived home with me on my gut the instant I walked through those arrival gates at Melbourne airport.

Breakfast. Let me tell you about the Breakfasts. OH MY LORDY…. You ain’t experienced the full experience of an all pig out buffet until you’ve been to a Thai resort. It’s the best of the best when it comes to the pig out world. It puts Pizza Huts ‘All You Can Eat’ to shame (cos clearly the food is fit for royalty in comparison). Half their people may be starving, but as guests we were surely not. Think: an array of cereals, breads, pastries, fresh salads, fresh fruit, cold meats, yoghurt, freshly made omelets, pancakes, fresh juices, hot westernised options like bacon, hash browns, eggs and then the Thai style hot breakfasts – it changed daily but it included things like noodles, fried rice, Pad Thai (YES!), broths, curries….. the things we would strictly save for lunch or dinner courses happily sat in my belly by 9am. At first we divulged everything in sight. We got our monies worth, you could say but I was afraid if someone came and spiked my inflating balloon (my belly) that I would explode open with Pad Thai and breakfast goodies bursting everywhere. Gradually over our stay feeling more and more ‘stuffed’ we had to slow up a bit. It was only then that we sat back and witnessed how ridiculously greedy and exorbitant us westerners looked. It was like watching the Japanese anime “Spirited Away“. Anyone who has seen this will know exactly what I mean. It’s a film about people giving into temptation (a bit like in Charlie & The Chocolate Factory) and gorging themselves so much that they end up blowing up into actual pigs. When I started to see the disturbing similarities right before my eyes, I did slow up a bit. Well, I did start serving myself “smaller” portions but I certainly DID NOT stop having my daily 5 courses that I’d become accustomed to - that was a set routine and why change a good routine when you’re it’s working for you? (My routine consisted of a serve of fresh omelete first up - made before my eyes, with western breaky of hash brown, bacon & backed beans, Thai breakfast of an array of curries and noodle dishes, then freshly cooked pikelets with maple syrup, yoghurt’s, fresh fruit, pastries and always a number of fresh juices).

My top pics from the buffet was the bacon. You would not believe how well the Thai’s can cook bacon. I have never had such awesome, crispy, suculent bacon before. I could not go past the bacon EVER. It looked at me and I was dying for it in an instant, and I don’t usually get so excited about a bit of pig. It’s probably worth going to Thailand just for the bacon. I cannot rave enough about the bacon. Can you tell?  Bacon at home now is merely a try hard job. Secondly, the fresh Thai fruit. Obviously, they have the ‘oh so goods’ you would come to expect from a tropical island - banana, pineapple, coconuts etc etc. I had my eye on the pineapple the first morning. That was my favorite, irresistable thing in Fiji. I assumed it was a world wide tropical thing. All tropical areas are blessed with amazing pineapple. Well, yes, it was nice but a runner up in the fruit winning awards. What my fruit for Thailand is, is bananas. So different to ours. So much more full in flavour and tender in texture and they hang about everywhere. Our first day at the resort we looked out off our balcony and was in awe of a bunch of about 2 dozen bananas sitting ready for picking. You have to remember bananas at the time here in Oz where $12 a kg. Mr Vick was ready to launch himself over the balcony to seize them before anyone else knew what a good thing we were onto, but as our time went on there we realised there is no shortage of bananas and they certainly don’t have a boutique price tag on them. A bunch of a dozen cost me about fifty cents.

Rose Apple and Dragon Fruit, two local Thai fruits were very pleasing to my curious palate also and so striking to look at….. we hardly have comparably pretty fruits. They must be ‘she’s’ as well.

I have gotten to this point and realised I could keep reporting on the Thai cuisine for Donkey’s years, but let’s face it, you don’t have Donkey’s years to read it all in one hit, so I’m going to have to do sequel post detailing the hidden chili saga and the fresh seafood purchase…. they will be giggle inducing for sure.

In the meantime, go get some awesome Pad Thai people!

Adventurous Parenting in Thailand. Trusting ‘The Gut’…. (in Thailand and all places)

Posted on by
Reply

Some of the adventures we got up to in Thailand would make my mother shake her head. They were things she would not put herself through not to mention consider it to be a family activity in which her 1 year old grandson should be apart of. As “young“ people we tend to be more instinctial parents rather than the logical old school form which is where my mother probably hails from. We want Little Vick to grow up experiencing and learning from the world by being directly being apart of it. Long gone are the days of toddlers “being seen and not heard” (but seriously have toddlers ever been not heard?).

For those of you who read my last post about our scary elephant ride, perhaps my mother does have some reason to shake her head at times, but hey what 1 year old shouldn’t be able to boast about riding an elephant through the jungle before he was 2 years old?

When Mr Vick suggested we all go kayaking on day 2 of our trip in Thailand, I didn’t hesitate in saying “yes, lets do it!”. The Thai boat co-ordinator at the resort was left scratching his head for a moment when we asked him for a mini life jacket for the “little one” whom we were pointing to. They obviously don’t usually have to cater for the miniature kayaker, but none the less he managed to get something on him before we all crawled into the slim line, wobbly kiak.

 If I’d stopped and thought before we set off about what all the nasty possibilities of including a toddler (who doesn’t like sitting still one bit) in a kayaking expedition out at sea, I’d probably have weaseled us out of it quick smart. I mean think about it…… Little Vick could refuse to sit contently still and he could have fallen in, jumped in, tipped us over (imagine capsizing?!) or Little Vick could have been scared witless the entire time and screamed us deaf, we could have ended up strandard somewhere, a motor boat could have ran us over, or a freak wave could have caught us unawares and we all ended up in the drink, or a shark…. and on the horror stories could go.

Instead we jumped into the adventure fearlessly and loved our time paddling in the sea. It was magic to see the island from the perspective of the water. The same sight the local fisherman got to enjoy every morning. The water glistened and sparkled from the sun. Resting back on his Dad, Little Vick sat perfectly still (phew!) and enjoyed the ride too. He loved the water splashing up on him and together with a slight sea breeze, it was deliciously refreshing. I have to admit it was a bit of hard yakka for the arms and for us to get our paddling in sink it took a number of moments of concentration and a bit of patience. I was quickly deemed a bit of an incompetend stearer of the vessel but none the less I still had to be charge since Mr Vick was taking care of Little Vick. Seems our destination was a tad further than it looked from our departure point but after a bit of huff and puff we arrived at a secluded part of our island which wasn’t accessible by foot. It was a lovely little secluded paradise. We climbed in and around the rocks like young children exploring untouched places - noticing everything from new follage to shells to how the wind was blowing ripples on the water. We drempt of building a jungle home and playing Jane and Tarzan. We enjoyed the sun on our skin, although it was probably burning me up. Unfortunately I can’t share such images photographically with you because I didn’t want to risk getting my spiffy camera water logged in the kayak, so these memories are only captured in my mind. But they’re the best ones aren’t they?  

The time came to go back to the island. Our dedicated time for the boat was ticking down and I was worried we’d disobeyed the boat man and treked too far away. There was a 1 km radius barrior, but I was sure we had gone at least 2km’s. Who knows? But we better not be late too. I’m not quite sure what the very non scary looking boat was going to do about it anyway. 

I am happy to report we all made it back alive (and not in trouble for not following the rules). Not just alive, but with a peacefully sleeping toddler in the back of the kayak. Out of all the possibilities, I never thought this one was possible. He’d fallen asleep! That’s how scared he was folks.

Another water story we have from our trip was on our Phi Phi Island day trip. Part of the allocated time was for snorkeling. It was indeed not just off the shores of a beach but out in the middle of the ocean. That’s where the best fish are of course. Neither Mr Vick or I wanted to miss the opportunity to catch a peek at the marine life so we both geared up ready. Again we found a rather oversized life jacket that would do for Little Vick without a second thought. The tour guide I guess didn’t understand we’ve been throwing Little Vick in the water since he was six weeks old and is quite a competent swimmer as he more than once asked us if we were “sure” about taking our toddler? We just smiled and noddled and launched ourselves into the cool depths of the surrounding waters. We wouldn’t be Aussies if we wern’t dawning our “she’ll be right mate attitude” now would we? 

Small fish quickly surrounded us and welcomed us to their home. So friendly. The bread that the tour guides insisted on throwing in front of our faces probably had something to do with them wanting to get up close and personal. They were amazing colours! Bright blues and yellows. Superb. Little Vick I’m sure didn’t comprehend what they were or how magnificent the experience was but we sure loved it together as a family.

I guess we are hardly boring people. Never have been, so we’re hardly going to become boring parents. Parenting can easilly become a real fearfest and you could easily shelter your children from the world because of the many ’what if’s’ but by doing that you’re also shielding them from many of life’s gifts and learning opportunities. So, we’ve decided to not be one of those parents, no matter where we are in the world. Whilst our actions might appear a little irrational, we actually do consider very carefully the damage we could do to our Little Vick and avoid being too reckless. But what’s life without a little bit of risk? Each little risk is a little living, a little learning, a little memory to keep forever and you think about it, your best memories are often those where you took a little bit of risk aren’t they? It’s the height of living. By living this way we are only enriched as individuals which can only make us better parents, we also learn how to parent better in a wide variety of circumstances and we share such thrills all with our beautiful little boy who only grows greater for it all too.

I wont pretend that we are the best parents. Who am I kidding? Most of the time we have no idea what we’re doing, but we will continue to parent by ‘our gut’, cos that’s what feels right.

What adventurous parenting stories do you have where you’ve followed your gut?

Playing Russian Roulette with A Thai Elephant!

Posted on by
2

 I wanted to ride an elephant. Can a girl be blamed? When one is in Thailand, it seems like it should be a natural occurrence. It’s hard to resist a little time with such huge, graceful creatures of the jungle which have long been apart of Asian history.

It was destined to be one of my most memorable travelling stories of all time. I had it set in my mind already. What a beautiful moment it would be, not just for myself but to share it with Little Vick who is joyous at the sight of a mere mangy dog. He was going to be owe struck and delighted, and I would be right beside him in that.

We had been in Thailand for 3 days before we decided it was time to go find and meet “our” elephant. Seems he was situated in someones big jungle backyard which was at the back of a neighbourhood consisting of a few tin sheds at God know’s where. We’d asked our taxi driver to deliver us to “our” elephant and this is where we ended up (we later found out taxi drivers get commissioned for taking tourists to certain businesses). We were a little surprised to see we were the only one’s there. Arn’t the elephants the rage here? Where are the rest of the tourists wanting their share of elephant heaven? I’d been complaining about the constant flow of tourists so perhaps this was a good thing. Our taxi driver had taken us to the best elephant in town for a more personal experience obviously.

One very happy monkey friend greeted us the instant we stepped out of the taxi, coaxing us over to play with him. He was as good as the locals along the street. He sold himself well although it wouldn’t take much to convince Little Vick. Monkeys were his best friend before he even had actually met one (his monkey sound is perhaps the cutest thing ever).  We had been longing for Little Vick to meet one in the flesh. He was fun, and funny, although there was also something a little psychotic about him too so we were glad he was chained up (and I don’t say that very often about animals). There’s something very unpredictable about monkey’s isn’t there? I eyed him off half expecting him to jump on our backs and scratch our skin and hair out.

            This was Little Vicks favorite trick. The show your bum act!

There were 2 elephants grazing on a bit of dirt waiting to play. I was happy to rescue them. We paid our 800 baht (approx. $28 each) for a half an hour trek. I pondered if this was long enough to live out my romantic cultural dream but it would have to do since we had the taxi driver waiting for us to move onto our next destination (Patong Beach).

The saddle, which they assembled in front of us, looked like it was at least 100 years old. The blankets were tatty, probably full of fleas and the bars of the seat were looking suspiciously rusty and brittle. Nice and authentic, I guess. When it was time we climbed a ladder of a makeshift tower where we hitched our leg up and over (I’m making it sound much easier than it really was) onto our elephant. I’m not sure how tall he was but it felt like we were sitting up on top of a skyscraper. Looooonnnnng way to fall down. Wouldn’t get out of the fall without at least a broken arm, collarbone or leg (or neck – but I don’t want to risk sounding dramatic!)

I was surprised when the elephant started waddling. Lets face it it isn’t actually that graceful when you’re up there. The motion is so jerky. Your hips get thrust forward and it takes a moment before the rest of your body flicks back into alignment.

It wasn’t long before I noticed how much the elephant, despite having some the largest set of ears I’ve ever seen, was playing deaf to his master. There was a clear track that the elephant was supposed to follow but instead he would spontaneously just veer off the path and head straight to the most delicious looking tree in sight and ferociously pull it down and eat it up, happy at Larry (whoever he is?). He couldn’t be moved until he was satisfied that’d he’d finished off the tree. He clearly had a no wastage rule, which you do have to admire. At first this was a bit funny. Worth a bit of a giggle….. poor elephant, musn’t of had a feed for the morning yet.. ha ha. How cute. But after a while when the elephant continuously lead off the trail and stubbornly disobeyed it’s master the funny in it started to disappear. The master would flare his voice at the elephant but little effect did it have. His assistant started picking whole branches of green foliage to try and coax the elephant to behave. Where they trying to bribe our elephant? This isn’t how it went in my head.

We eventually managed to cover some distance and for some God knows reason we ended up on the side of a cliff on this elephant. I saw it coming and I asked the heavens to pleeeaaassseee not allow it but alas, it seems we were fully out of control of this whole experience and it was to be. Now let’s get this straight, sitting on an elephant is awkward enough not to mention sitting on an elephant on the slant of steep hill. I tried to lay along the line of the elephant so I didn’t lose control of my upper body and topple off the back but I wasn’t really sure where to hold onto or where to look (I get vertigo sitting in the dress circle at the theatre). The elephant obviously didn’t share such fears as he casually thumped his way over to the very edge of the cliff to nip at a bush that sat just out of his reach over the edge….how is it that that bush looks the most attractive? I looked over the edge, briefly. Long enough. Eeeekkkk!!!!! A little squeal wanted to escape from my throat. Very. Long. Way. Down. Gulp. It would only take one step from this elephant and we would meet our death, and really, their big feet are pretty clumsy, so it felt like it was only a matter of time. My chest ragged as my heart clearly wanted to leap out and get back to the taxi before I could even yell “help“. Obviously my inner adventure junkie must have been hybernating that day.

There’s only one thing you can do to make such a situation far worse for yourself and that is to start questioning the safety of equipment which is imperative to your survival (bloody stupid imagination).I don’t know about these brittle looking ropes they used to strap the saddle on. Do you think they could just snap?  You couldn’t blame me - they looked about as old as the dinosaurs and were they creaking with the pressure of our weight (and that was already a few holiday kilo’s heavier) on the slant? I looked at Mr Vick who was clinging onto Little Vick with dear life. We were stuck. Couldn’t just hop down and skip back to the taxi. No one to rescue us and we wern’t even game enough to admit that this was indeed one of the most terrifying things we had ever voulanteered ourselves for.

I musn’t have been imagining the danger because the boss and his assistant barked at the elephant with growing intensity, and at each other when the elephant was adamant about still playing Russian roulette with us. Seems nothing was working for them. Their urgency in their voice only made us more anxious. Did they too think it was a possibility for this elephant to commit manslaughter?

This brought about the arrival of the pick. A nasty, sharp looking thing which they waved about threatening the elephant with and jabbed into it’s side. This made the elephant a bit cranky, but still he held his ground. It made me very nervous. It felt like there might be a showdown and that I should negotiate between the two to bring back some calm in the situation before there was a big elephant tantrum.

It didn’t help that we had just finished watching the movie “Water for Elephants” prior to departing for Thailand.  It’s a lovely period drama which tells about an elephant sensing cruelty in his owner and flaring up and running away when a pick came near him…. it kinda seems understandable, so I was waiting for our elephant to go on some mad stampede with us helpless lot stuck on top with a toddler, who seemed rather non perplexed by it all. So everyday for him. This little boy had no fear, completely trusting us and our judgement, and yet here we were starting to question why we had ever thought this was going to be a great idea?!?!!

Whilst the elephant and his master had a word with one another my attention began to shift to the saddle. For a few moments I carefully considered. Is it ? isn’t it? Surely not? But yes indeedy, the saddle was slipping!!!! Panic rose up through my body. It wanted to spew out of my mouth all over this whole situation but instead I managed to keep my cool on. Under my breath I alerted Mr Vick to the pending disaster. It seems he had already noted the situation and hushed me with “don’t panic, just don’t panic” in a very quiet but none the less panicked tone. I could tell he wan’t enjoying himself and felt just as helpless and regretful as I did. But what could we do? I could just see the headlines already. “Elephant disaster. Negligent Aussie Parents stupidly risked sons life”.

For whatever reason, the elephant started to negotiate a little more with his master and actually decided moving away from the edge and down the cliff wasn’t a bad idea. Hooray!Probably had just finished eating the days picking and was ready to move on for something more fresh, but either way, we were getting out of the neck of the woods. We were by now completely rattled and would have been happy to get off and just run back to the taxi but instead pretending we were completely calm and happy with the experience we endured the remainder of the ride. We didn’t want to look like wusses after all. 

THANK GOD we did not opt for the one hour trek (which probably would have went further up that cliff) after all.

We arrived back. Huge sigh of relief. Never been happier to climb down off an elephant! I looked around at the conditions of the elephants environment. How deplorable. Why did I not notice this before hand and why was it that I thought this wild animal was actually going to be domesticated? Like a pet dog who has been trained to walk on a leash and heel when commanded to? I was now angry with myself for buying into this. I began to empathise with the suicidal elephant who obviously wanted to play Russian roulette with us to make a point. Point taken.  

What amazes me is that we got home and everyone is all stories about their crazy elephant experiences that was more scary than romantic and not once did anyone caution us prior to leaving and say, hey, it’s actually a bit risky and scary. Not once. It was all nods and that’ll be great. No care about the toddler we were potentially putting at risk!!! But hey, we survived to tell the story and one could say we sure got our moneys worth!

I giggled to myself when we were comfortably back in our taxi when I had this realisation. Despite the elephant being 27 years old, elephants are just big toddlers! Always hungrey, always sporting selective hearing, not doing as they’re told and always pushing you to your limits!

So as it turns out there was nothing graceful about that experience, definitely nothing romantic but it sure will be one of my all time memorable travelling experiences I will ever have!

 

 

 

Thai Resorts = Palm Trees, Beaches and Imperfect Quirks!

Posted on by
4

After an 8 hour flight and various other modes of transport including car, bus, taxi, boat and tuk tuk we had finally arrived in the dark to our holiday paradise. It’s a little disconcerting arriving in the darkness. God knows where that tuk tuk (which looked fairly dodgy) had lead us to? We had put our complete trust in foreign strangers. So you can only imagine the delightful gasp that flowed from my mouth when I awoke and opened the blinds of our snazzy apartment the following morning to this:

The photos really don’t do it justice. As far as I could see there was blue blue blue and a bit of green (the palm trees). Sigh. That flight might just have been worth it after all. We were definitely in the right place. This was going to be our little island home for the next 9 nights. I think I could handle that.

Finding international accommodation can be tricky cos let’s face it can be one big game of pot luck. Whilst you can read reviews and take on recommendations you still never know what you’re going to get, so I was very impressed to find we’d been dealt a good hand thanks to a website which is rapidly growing in popularity - www.livingsocial.com/escapes

Travel agents might be angry at me for saying this but purchasing travel coupons are a thing of the future and open up an exciting avenue for travellers! Living Socials ‘Escapes’ is a top website (which you can download onto your smart phone for convenience) which sends you weekly specials with affordable accommodation vouchers for purchase. Their packages which often leave me open mouthed (it’s often cheaper to stay in Asia than Adelaide) and scheming how we can afford and fit in an international whirl wind trip (I have to behave myself). It really does make four or five star international resort accomodation quite reachable for the average traveler. Additionally they often include very appealing extras on top of the excellent accommodation. For instance in our package we also got two vouchers for meals and two one hour massages each. I like this. So this is the word. Get online, get signed up and get yourself a rad trip through Living Social. Don’t even think twice.

I was of course happy to arrive and see that indeed it was not a scam. It was the first time I had bought one of their escape packages and I can report it is the real deal. Nothing wrong with this is there?

Interestingly enough our resort was only recently built in 2006 on a rural island to the east of the island Phuket. “Coconut Village Island Resort” employs at large locals from the island or just over the water on the mainland in the neighbouring township which I think is fantastic. It is a beautiful kinda place. For looks it gets 4 out of 5 stars which is supported by all the online reviews, but as I suspect with many resorts in Thailand there are some unforeseen things that may pop up to irritate the unsuspecting holiday goer. For example the fact that almost once daily, we would turn the taps on in the shower and no water would arrive, or that the power in our apartment would just randomly switch itself off (that means no air conditioner for a short time). We would look at each other with a bit a grin as it reminded us that we were indeed in a underprivileged and under resourced country despite the luxurious facade of the resort. Could we really expect anything else? The resort none the less endures complaints about such prehistoric standards but we were happy enough to go for a swim in the pool instead of having a shower (the chlorene kills the germs right?) or just sit out the moment of inconvenience. A true sign we had relaxed into holiday mode. Of course the resort boasted a flawless wifi service, naturally, which allowed us to pass such inconvenient times. It says something about the emerging world doesn’t it? Sketchy water and electricity available for the masses but excellent internet connection! Beautiful!

What we found completely hillarious was that the whole entire resort was run by a large generator which puffed away polluting the air with it’s huge chugs (seriously happy we wern’t in an apartment close by) and billowing clouds of smoke right near the enterance of the resort. It’s not quite what you expect upon arrival but none the less they’ve tried to hide it by putting up some walls around it but it’s chimney peeps out the top and nothing can mask the diesel motor which sounds like 10 trucks coming towards you. It does put an interesting slant on the “serenity” but we only noticed it when we were passing to the pool or to the restaurant and we were happilly in our holiday coma and focussed on the upcoming activity of luxury. Although it made me aware of how advanced we are in terms of energy and electricty. How privilaged we really are. Like spoilt brats we throw tantrums about rare power outages when we get a stinking summers day and the system can’t cope, and yet in Thailand you’d have to be a king to have any electricty at all.

Still, it’s a funny concept isn’t it? - a generator running an entire island!? With their limited resources I’m sure the Thai’s think this generator is a state of the art, genius, contraption. We could only laugh about it but who am I to poke fun? We were still getting our Pad Thai and Pina Colada’s so there were going to be no complaints from us.

The surprising lack of resources doesn’t stop at that generator. Rubbish collection seems to be a unheard of thing in Phuket. Whilst the resort is spotless thanks to the tireless efforts of local workers who appear at 5.30am in the morning and rake the beach and turn the place over till it’s spotless, you needn’t step more than 100 metres outside of the resort to discover rubbish scattered along the roads everywhere. I have my suspicions about what the resort does with it’s rubbish but I shouldn’t go there. Another traveller we met explained that it’s a common occurance - big resort development moves into a small rural area with limited resources and ability to cope with the huge outages of waste and rubbish that will be brought about from the development, so the island becomes a waste land with little assistance from the resort in terms of developing systems or resources to cope. This type of ignorant capitalism is a bit infuriating, particularly when it ends up becoming the unknowing and helpless locals problem. Anyway.. I’ll stop before I really get on my goat about it.

 Rubbish disposal - it’s a small luxury that we don’t even give a second thought about so I found it surprising when I saw the piles of junk out the font of homes, or piles of ash from where they’d burn’t their rubbish. Indeed some rubbish as I mentioned earlier, doesn’t even make it onto piles for burning and blows freely around the roads. Of course I didn’t dare ask about their sewage systems but I can kinda get the picture. I was told by some holiday goers at the resort that we were lucky to have upgraded to the 2 bedroom apartments to the left of the resort as on the right hand side it smelt like sewage on their door steps. Whatever their systems are, they’re basic you could say.

            Some of the rubbish littering the surrounds just outside the resort

So whilst some where unhappy with the lack of western resources we were happy to manage and when I say manage, I mean for the most part live in luxury and just notice a few things that were surprising to our snobbish standards. It’s not hard to be thankful when you see how hard the locals do it just meters up the road from our villa.

I guess what I’m saying is people booking trips to Thailand should not be fooled by the glossy pictures of paradise and luxury. Whilst I’m certain most resorts have it covered, a lot are still establishing themselves and aligning themselves with our tough western standards and expectations. Perhaps you should consider going somewhere else if you’re going to be bothered by minor imperfections? These quirks become part of the charm of the place for us and we still managed to have a very lazy, luxurious, tropical, serene and comfortable holiday with iconic palms surrounded by blue water, breath taking scenery and wonderful sunshine – which is just what we ordered! :-)

                 We stayed at Ko Maphrao – a small island to the right of the mainland

Thailand: Where The Motorbike is The New Family Wagon!

Posted on by

After an 8 hour plane journey which we were more than happy to leave behind, we were relieved to set our feet on Thai soil. We were a bit dazed and shell shocked after our “concentration camp” like plane experience and sooo ready to get to that paradise beach resort and start sipping (or guzzling) Pina Coladas.

When I land in any new country I go into sensory overload mode. I take in new images, new smells, new sounds all in a matter of seconds. I compute them into my brain and make a quick summery of my first impressions. A judgement to be honest. A judgement on an entire country in a matter of minutes. Perhaps it’s unfair, but it’s just the way I roll. The first thing I noticed to formulate my judgement was the heat.

You’d have to be dead to not notice the instant heat that blankets you the moment you step off the plane into Thailand. It’s like a good friend not willing to depart you until the end (of your trip that is). I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope with the heat. I’ve been known to be a heat induced cranky pants and that is not how I wanted the story of my holiday to unfold but I was surprised with how manageable it was. It was sticky but I was prepared for this (deodorant in hand). Anything above 30 degrees is but it isn’t like Australian heat which is drainingly dry and bit by bit creeps up and eats away at you until you’ve had a fair dinkum gut full (and have to have a beer laying lethargically on the couch)! In Thailand it’s more like being stuck in a jar with the lid on which fortunately has a small sprinkler system to keep things always slightly damp. The temperature is consistent at least. It’s made up it’s mind. None of this four seasons in one day business which Melbourne thinks is a good idea. It also should be noted that the private pool attached to our apartment probably had something to do with my coping ability.

As we stepped out of Phuket’s airport we were instantly introduced to what would become a very familiar, almost chant like (they’ve been saying the same thing to visitors for a lifetime so it’s a tad monotonous) phrase that would follow us wherever we would go. “Taxi… you want taxi?” You’ve got to imagine it in the Thai accent though. They have this particular twang that is admittedly fun to mock. If you’ve been to Thailand, you get it right?

I don’t think I’ve witnessed so many drivers waiting for their arrivals at the airport before. For a moment I have a vision of what it would be like to be a “someone” arriving into the country, like I was famous and the paparazzi were all yelling out trying to get my attention, trying to convince me to choose them. It was quite flattering in my daydream like state (8 hours too long on that flight clearly). There were name cards being held up everywhere. One was even being held upside down. I thought about telling the driver but I moved on eager to see my own name. I don’t think I’ve ever had my name on a card ever before… so when I finally sore it I felt good (it’s the small things)! We were greeted by our chauffeur (yes a driver and a chauffeur all for us!) who was pleasant, eager to please and didn’t want us to have to think (I think I need one of these in Australia). They bundled us into the taxi and we set off in pursuit of our tropical island.

In the car looking on from the window I got swept up in the buzz of Phuket. It’s alive and that’s evident the moment you step out of the airport. Now you might think, Phuket, nice tropical island with a few dozen locals on it…. hell no! Phuket is Thailand’s largest island and is as large as Singapore, an entire country! It has 85,000 residents and takes about 50 minutes to drive from one end of the island to the other (if you get a speedy taxi driver - which is more than likely). It takes a small millisecond to realise that locals are busy types. They’re going places and they’re pretty keen on their motorbikes. If you drive a car in Phuket you must be a taxi driver or a king of some kind, otherwise you’re doing your thing on a bike. So the roads are a sea of motorbikes weaving it and out of traffic, driven by both the young and the old.

It isn’t long before I am in hysterics at some of the sights. My eyes bulge when I see a mother driving her motorbike with her baby (under 12 months old I suspect) laying across her lap. He looked content enough, perhaps he was even asleep. He didn’t seem to think the situation was a little odd or dangerous. Lucky for him he has good balance….Now I ask this question – is the mother mad? Here we are in Australia all pedantic and fanatical about fitting car seats to the proper safety standards whilst in Thailand they just chuck their babes on and they’re off? No second thoughts? That’s the biggest case of ”she’ll be right” that I’ve ever seen and…. I love it! How can you not love a country that allows babies to hang off the back of bikes travelling 100km per hour down a highway?

When I mention to Mr Vick what I’d just witnessed he remarks that he just saw an entire family on the back a small motorbike (that’s 2 adults and 2 children!). Um, when did the motorbike become the family wagon????? It’s economical I guess. We can’t help but grin and chillax about the fact Little Vick is without his normal safety constraints of his car seat. How ridiculous we must have seemed to the driver when we got in and fussed over buckling in Little Vick before we set off.

The roadways are full of interesting sights. I see about 9 young men all piled into the back of a ute tray casually having a good catch up sesh, laughing, recalling their day whilst dinking a lift home after knock off time. The inner farm girl in me is instantly revved up about this! I am flooded with familiarity and memories of my time growing up on the farm where I was always driving the motorbike (I learnt and was allowed to drive when I was 6) and dinking lifts on any motorised contraption that was available, although admittedly I probably never drove on the open road (much). Here I was in Asia and I felt strangely at home. I guess what I’m saying is, my off the bat summery of Thailand was that I liked these people. They seemed gutsy, and overlooking the fact that biking was probably more a necessity for most, I felt like they all had a bit of adventure junkie lying underneith the surface.

To top off my admiration, a pelting shower of rain spontaneously unleashed down on the road and yet…. not one motorcyclist pulled over, slowed down, put a rain coat on, even flinched. I certainly would have bailed. I guess they’ve got people to see and things to sell and times money.

Despite the rain, I am plotting how I can get me on one. How liberating it would be to zoom in and out of traffic feeling the warm breeze blowing through my hair on route to my tropical island (where a Pina Colada will be waiting)? There would be only one speed and that would be ’supo buzuko’ (a favorite childhood phrase for super duper fast) and I would squeal “cowabungaaaaa” from the top of my lungs in sheer delight. I was already thinking about how I wouldn’t hesitate if I didn’t have one very large and noisy accessory with me, a baby. How differently things would be if I was travelling baby free. I was perhaps… yearning for my old single traveller self ALREADY. Not even in the country for 5 minutes and I was ready to swap my baby for a cheap thrill. I can’t believe I actually just admitted that. I did feel rather guilty but I honestly cannot be blamed for the adventure junkie that leaps out and steals all rational thoughts at such times. I was only convinced more when I learnt that the motorbikes are the cheapest mode of transport on the island at a steal - $6 a day, including petrol. Couldn’t even get a sniff of petrol for that at home.

I started to plot how we could potentially strap Little Vick in his hiking backpack and zoom off on a bike as a family. He would be much safer than the local babes on laps. I think he’d like it. Adventure junkie must be in his genes too but before I could admit my scheming plan, Mr Vick diplomatically informed me that “The Lonely Planet Guide” had explicitly said motorbikes are seriously dangerous and are in fact the biggest killers of tourists in Phuket every year. Thank you very much Lonely Planet Guide. How sensible of you. 2 words - kill. joys. AND how does Mr Vick know me so well to caution me at precisely the right moment before I’m trailing behind the taxi on my own motorbike?

Don’t you love that it is the Mum who is wearing the helmet here?

Whilst I was on a high about the motorbikes I couldn’t help but notice the environment and neighbourhoods around me. What would be a very make shift and shabby garden shed for us would be a reasonable home for some here in Phuket. The buzz I had been feeling gradually dimmed as I noticed the harsh reality of this land. I was amazed at how they’d drawn their resources and propped up a bit of a home that was functionable despite the lack of comfort and facilities. These people should really be applauded for making do. It’s a way we will probably never know. Whilst I knew from the onset that the standards of living in Thailand were going to be a lot less than ours, I was taken a back by how close some really were living to the poverty line. I guess I had my paradise island resort in my head when I had daydreamed about our destination and that only set me up for a real reality check upon arrival. I could feel myself wanting to emotionally invest in these people already. I’d barely stepped foot in the country and already I wanted to care, to find out more, perhaps to help them. Here I go, I thought to myself. Can’t I have a selfish holiday without feeling?

Their homes were littered with belongings and rubbish in and out the front onto the footpaths. There were makeshift stalls and small markets lining the roads with people praying to make enough to call the day a winner (although very few would). They remained on guard in the pelting rain never leaving their markets side despite a lack of shelter. Children ran in and out of their homes and played on the footpaths. Like children anywhere they were engaged and appeared happy in play. Yet I wondered what they thought of their world?

After about a 30 minute drive we arrived at Laem Lin Pier which would be our launching pad to our more rural island. Located to the east it was traditionally known as Maphrao Yai Island and is now referred to as Village Coconut Island. Cliche much? After a short boat road we load up our belongings into a tuk tuk which weaved us in and out of a small road littered by green leafy jungle. We arrived at Village Coconut Island Resort but I don’t remember too much about checking in or arriving at our apartment, which was amazing (phew!). It was now 8.30pm Thai time which meant it was 12.30am in Australia. We began our journey 15 hours earlier to reach that point. We had expired. Little Vick had managed to survive the biggest day he’s ever had on a mere 30 minute sleep and he was still chirpy and agreeable. What a champion! Before I could blink we were all peeling our sticky clothes off and running bare bottomed for the cool waters of our private pool on our own balcony. Nothing like a nudie swim to initiate one’s arrival! The water was deliciously refreshing and washed away all the day’s anxieties and tensions, including that dreadful plane ride. All negative thoughts about why we’d just endured that large, hellish day dissipated. It was in those cool waters with the gentle sound of the palms around us that we knew we had finally arrived!

Post Thailand: Doing the “You’re Going to Bed if you Like It or Not” Dance….

Posted on by
Reply

I’m sitting here with my fingers and toes crossed. I can’t hear any protests, complaints, giggles, call outs or even a murmour. Maybe, just maybe I’ve won this time! I’ve been doing the your going to go to sleep whether you like it or not battle. It’s been on for almost 2 hours. It’s not a battle I’m fond of and to be honest I’ve been spoilt. I put the hard yards in when “Little Vick” was a real youngin. I endured the protest cries and the heartache to get my little man into a good sleep routine and ever since have reaped the rewards. I have, correction, had, a good bed time baby who read all the routine signals and was happy to submit peacefully. I would proudly observe him dreamily watch the “Giggle & Hoot” goodnight song and then he would prompt me to put him in his sleeping bag, give him a cuddle and place him into bed. In fact he would often remind me what the routine was if I got sidetracked. What a gem?! It was all going so lovely. I was used of having a few hours to myself of a night time and felt… (I’m going to say it) … in control. How premature and foolish to have started to think such a thing! Any mother who breathes a sigh of relief and starts to feel that long lost thing could control again is surely going to be reminded that it isn’t something to be enjoyed or even something that you should get comfortable with for too long. It’s a fleeting thing and it’s only a matter of time before it’s snatched away again. Let me be the example of this. I have read the books about how travel affects a babies comfortable system they’ve developed, but I didn’t realise how frustrating and stubborn “Litte Vick” would be when we returned from Thailand. It’s a guilt thing I’ve decided. You took me away, took me out of my comfort zone, I endured what I had to when I had to and I did it well (which is more than I had to do), but now we’re back you want me to just fit back in, I’m not, cos I’m a changed child from that travelling experience, you showed me the world so now I want to experience it… 24 hours a day. It was obviously his little safe, secure and in control thing which was completely shattered by us making him endure the hard ships of a beach holiday in Thailand.

I was lulled into a false sense of security the first three days we were home. “Little Vick” slept in a 15 hour coma the first night. I took that as a clear indication he was a fairly happy about sleeping in his own bed again. I actually was able to also catch up on my little jet lag hang over too which was more than I expected. It was a matter of 3 days before the jet lag wore off for “Little Vick” and he was letting me know too - ”don’t do that again (take me to Thailand or alike). I’m not going to go to sleep in case you try and pull that stunt again“. I sat up with him until he fell asleep eventually at 10pm, 3 hours after he was first put down and then again at 12.30pm until 3.10am. Blah……I felt jet lagged again.

So that’s how the story goes.  We attempt the old put to bed thing at 7pm. Before I’ve even left the room he has rolled over and is attempting to stand up. Within 2 minutes he is fully standing up (what a handy acrobatic trick that is he’s learnt) clinging onto to the end of his cot screaming for dear life like there he is about to be eaten by a baby eating monster. I don’t submit immediately but eventually I think I should go in. I lay him down. Again, he is up before i even leave the room. I endure the “Little Vick” yelling soundtrack in the background for a bit longer before I go back in again. I take him out, reassure him, perhaps read him a story, perhaps give him a cuddle in the rocking chair, perhaps chat about the lovely day we’ve had, perhaps give him a top up of milk, tonight I even let him have a teddy bear party in his cot (rattle and disco bear where even invited)…. FAIL. It’s all so wrong. His little arm points urgently out to the lounge room.Take me, take me. Does he honestly think he is missing out on an all lets swing from the chandaliers party? We are really not that exciting (although I wouldn’t mind). We are merely trying to get some time for ourselves, but he is happy to steal that unfazed (did that sound a bit bitter?). A few times I’ve fallen for the arm pointing trick and taken him out to show him that there actually isn’t a ripper party blaring in our lounge room, but it only makes him ten times more dramatic when I do take him back up to his bedroom for another sleepy time attempt. Of course once he is back in bed, we don’t dare even sigh in case it excites him and he thinks he should be apart of it.

I’ve tried to give his 2nd daily sleep the boot. One would think he would be so exhausted he would be begging to get all curled up in bed but no… we have a stubborn child on our hands who thinks 10pm is a suitable bedtime for a 15 month old. Please tell me musicians sleeping habits are not heriditrey?

It’s a matter of trickery “Mr Vick” (the musician) tells me. Tonight he managed to pull one of these tricks and get him off peacefully after an hour of the I don’t want to go to bed dance. He won’t divulge what his ‘trick’ was, but whatever that fancy little thing was I reckon that scores him a nightly job if required!

So… tell me parental types, if you’ve travelled how has your babies routine been disturbed and how long did it take for them to comfortable again? And what did you do in the meantime? Please educate me quickly!

Budget Boeing Boeing + baby = BATTLE! The lengths a little family goes to for a big Thailand holiday!

Posted on by
2

I have had an absence of leave from this blog. I have had to really start the clogs in the brain to get this post out (it hurt). My brain still thinks it is in Thai time and on holiday. I do however owe you all a post or two explaining how the big Asian adventure + toddler went. I am trying to sift through my brain of images, information, culture, experiences & Pina Colada’s to figure out where exactly I’m going to start. So I guess I will start from the beginning (“a very good place to start“).

The airport. As it would turn out I was beyond relieved to find and remember that there are such things as luggage trolleys!!! I stormed towards one with greed and open arms like I was being reunited with a bar of chocolate after a 7 year draught. HOORAY! This whole airport bizo wasn’t going to be the awkward nightmare that I had been playing over in my mind (the one where there was just 2 of us to carry 17 bags and a wriggly toddler). I could even perhaps enjoy the process, and walking straight up and checking in without waiting in queue would perhaps suggest that was possible (seriously does that ever happen?). Instead it instantly started alarm bells ringing in my head… why is there no one else checking in? Perhaps no one else is game enough to fly budget anymore? Do they (as in the whole of the nation) know something about “Strategic Airlines” that I don’t know about? They’re only new, perhaps that is a curse in the world of aviation? Geez, we will get there right? It is safer to fly than to drive a car, yes? But it’s budget, perhaps because we’re not paying hefty bucks we dont get a good hefty motor to ensure our safe transit? SHUT UP BRAIN! Why did I let myself watch “Aircraft Investigation” last night? Grrrr…

We got our baht and got our butts on that plane before we could think about another aviation disaster. It wasn’t so bad on board. The adventure was beginning! Time to start the holiday! I always like to say a little aviation prayer quietly to myself before take off. I simply request that we get a good air hostess, some flavoursome food (does it exist on planes?), a pleasant smelling toilet (particularly when we were virtually sitting on top of it for the entire flight – the joys of sitting up front) and that we arrive in one piece + pretty please can we have a spot of turbulence for some entertainment. I like to be reminded that I am flying and not just catching the bus. It’s a shot of adrenelan for this junkie! Once I’ve had such thoughts, I don’t have a single scarey image again and leave our fate up to the aviation gods.

I will say it and say it again. There is nothing more exciting than when the pilot hits that exelerator and the plane revs and speeds supo buzuko up that runway and into that sky. This is something that other passengers dont seem to aknowelege at all. It always baffles me that people just act like they’re watching the nightly news. Some people are already asleep. Does no one else sing the praises of aviation creation at that moment? Do they not dare to allow a little adrenalium to race around their system so that they feel a little excited or elated? If they do they certainly don’t show it. When did people get so bloody boring? I love it! Honestly if I had my way I would have everyone on the plane let out a cheer in celebration. Why doesn’t the air hostesses add that into their little air safety demonstration (if you don’t cheer you get a crap ride)? We are all going on a holiday after all?!

We thought it was going to be oh so easy. We were lulled into a false sense of ease when Banjo quickly fell asleep on my boob as we took off (not even he wanted to cheer with me??). This was a relief. We were feeling like parental masters. We had one of the good ones who was a natural born traveller who understood exactly what was happening and knew it was all for the better good of our family to have such a holiday. The mother in front of us with her 10 month old boy looked on in jealous awe. Yep, that’s my babe I proudly expressed in my mother to mother eye contact with her. He is a born traveller because I trained him up in the womb. No baby concieved can visit 7 European countries without knowing what travelling is all about.

After half an hour, the little angel came to life. Most curious about the situation he had found himself in. What’s Mummy and Daddy up to this time? I don’t remember giving consent to this?! I’ll just jump up and have a wander and supervise the situation. What do you mean I can’t get out of my seat belt? MMMMUUUUUMMMMMYYYYYY! And so that’s how the trip went. 7.5 hours of tug and war. Trying to negotiate, distract and lull my 14 month old very active, alert, curious, independent, stubborn toddler who presumes to need to know everything and to be actively in the heart of it all. I often refer to him as “Little Jim” after his Pop. My father is a major observatory type. Nothing much gets past him. He knows the nuts and bolts about his whole world or at least what he can see on the surface and how that works. I have a clone of this, hence “Little Jim” was on this 8 hour journey with us. Sleep after that initial false hope of a half hour was out of the question. What an perposteous idea!? Admittedly it was what we half expected given that we were travelling through the middle of the day and that he is such an acutely alert and curious tot. It was just going to be all down to our entertainment ability, which you think should be of a very high quality considering myself and my man have been at some point professional actors. HA! Nothing like a child’s honesty (damn us for instaling high standards in him)! How many times can you pull funny faces or sing a cheesy nursery rhyme with expression and with self cheoregraphed actions? The new toys purchased especially were a novelty for about 2 minutes. The truth be told, he wore us out and yet, the whole experience would NEVER wear him out. 

My request for turbulence was taken very seriously and delivered with commitment. The first 2-3 hours of the flight the seat belt sign flicked on and off frequently, which did, if anything, provide some curious entertainment for “Little Vick” (better than our antics anyway). Although I’m sure he thought the keeping your seat belt on rule should not be applicable to him. I like to think we’re both very gentle, calm, empathetic parents but there are only so many times that you can patiently explain to your toddler why it is safe and necessary to sit down (the only way is to jump or bounce clearly) and buckle up AGAIN. Sooner or later you all start to go cookoo. The claustrophobic circumstances of the situation began to swell up and increase and eat at our sanity. We started to wonder if it all wasn’t starting to resemble a concentration camp (See how sorry we were feeling for ourselves? We are dramatically inclined). The toilet stunk, the space was cramped, the kids were crying, we were starving (turbulence for 3 hours means no food!), the air hosteses had major attitude (they grimaced every time ”Little Vick“ even gurgled) and it seemed endless. Doesn’t help that my last flying experience was with Emirates, one of the worlds best airlines. Perhaps if we had of been granted a seat with extra leg room and/or a bassinet for “Little Vick” it could have been more manageable. But it seems it must take more than 2 telephone requests to get that with “Strategic” airlines. There’s that budget thingy. Didn’t pay for customer service.

The worst moment was when the food did finally arrive 3.5 hours in (about 3.30pm our time – afternoon tea time for a toddler not just lunch time!) and we had to then juggle hot trays of food and a hungrey all arms grabbing, starving, unreasonable toddler. I couldn’t actually control him. He was throwing cutlery at a desperate attempt to get something to feed himself with, he was all paws on the hot trays, he was crying because I took the hot trays away, he was crying because he just wanted to escape….give me strength. I was surprised to discover he is stronger than I am when he wants to be – already! Lucky I have a strong, full sized man with me (they’re a handy accessory) who could control the little self physically – but definitely not vocally.The screaming commenced which naturally errupted through the entire plane. But that’s ok. He’s a child. Everyone understands. 10 minutes later and with the whole situation swelling up in my head, I was feeling a little more tense and less rational. My blood pressure was fluctuating and my mind was becoming increasingly flustered and I’m not really sure how to make a decision anymore. How do I do this? What do I do to control this situation? Can I blame someone else for this? “Mr Vick”? No, looks like he is the only one doing anything right. He is at least calm and logical. Is this honestly going to be worth it? Where did my well travelled, understanding, comprehending babe go??? Mum in front now contently looking at her calm tot and glad not to be owning mine right now. Shouldn’t have gloated so much. These two little boys struck up an alliance actually. They were buddies bonded together over a confining, perplexing circumstance that they wern’t consensual to. They watched out for one another, particularly when one of them was upset. I just love that concerned, curious expression that a toddler gets when watching another baby cry or whimper. They watch and try and understand what’s upsetting the other perhaps so that they can make sure it doesn’t catch to them. They show such empathy for one another and yet they know it’s not their place to do anything about it.

The saving grace was a few spare seats in the back part of the plane. An escape. A small holiday from the headache even if it was just for 20 minutes at a time. We took turns. A bit more space kept us all sane - little man included. That small paradise and the boob were the life jackets in an unpleasant situation. This is exactly why I had persisted with breast feeding for 14 months. All the advice I was given by other travelling Mum’s had paid off. At the slightest hint of cranky pants business the boob was out (except the food situation – cranky toddler, hot trays of food and boobs are not a good combination).Thank the lord for the boob!  

In all seriousness, “Little Vick” did well given the most unusual, confining circumstance we had put him in. I knew from the get go it was going to be an intense moment in this adventure. It’s one to add to the collection of “intense mothering experiences” that I’m aquiring. One to remember (whether you want to or not). One that teaches you more about your self and your ability to exercise calm and patience. It was a long 8 hours, but it was only 8 hours. I don’t want to sound like a big whinger. I don’t do serious whinging. The flight was a small price to pay for what would become a magical holiday - our first big one together as a little family.  

As the plane hit the tar mac of Phuket International Airport, and our 8 hours had clocked up, I think I might just have let slip out a bit of a cheer!

The way my flight experience should have been!

 (Photo curtousy of Open Eye Photography Blog)

The Big Pack: Taking the Kitchen Sink to Thailand!

Posted on by
2

I’ve always been a little too good at packing for a trip. I always cover all bases. I have clothing for nearly any possible circumstance (I like to look my best in any situation and don’t appreciate being caught out), this does however pose a problem when I am also in charge of packing for my toddler AND we have to share a suitcase. How this was decided was somehow out of my control. Not only do I have to share my whole entire life with my toddler, I now have to share my beloved suitcase space with him too?

It was actually decided after a full logistical conversation I had with “Mr Vick” about baggage. After consideration he concluded  we quite possibly coudn’t go at all, after all our planning, booking, saving, dreaming – just couldn’t go because it was going to be such a logistical nightmare just to get to the “check in” point at the airport. HA! Flicking this option aside, I  confess, I did enjoy a moment of amusement watching his face kinda believing it wasn’t going to be possible.

My word of advice for you all; never travel with a toddler AND a musician in tow, it will be a farcical nightmare. Imagine us getting from our transport into the airport. “Little Vick” in his stroller pushed by myself with one hand (that alone would be difficult enough), the other is dragging my (rather largish) suitcase behind. Backpack (carry on luggage) also fastened on to my back and another to “Mr Vick’s” back walking alongside me. He is carrying his over sized guitar, and other various musical equipment, “Little Vicks” hiking backpack AND another suitcase not to mention some additional carry on luggage in there somewhere. NOT COMFORTABLE NOR HUMANLY POSSIBLE! So, if I was to go on this trip at all I had to compromise and agree to share my own suitcase with “Little Vick” (as apparently “Mr Vick” could condense his packing down to a mere rucksack and wouldn’t have a suitcase to share at all. That’s what happens when you wear 2 pairs of shorts for an entire trip!).

This entire situation has posed the problem of “sensible” packing. What girl should have to be faced with such a predicament? I keep being told not to take much, as I always am on the eve of every trip but I’ve always doubted such advice and taken what I’ve wanted anyway. Something I’ve regretted once abroad when I’ve worn only half of the luggage, get sick of lugging it around and after buying plenty of additions which only require it’s own space in the suitcase. No doubt there will be a re-occurance on this trip. I never learn. I cannot reason with my brain to stop myself from packing that extra dress just “in case”. Am I the only woman who fears being abroad (or anywhere for that matter) and being caught out ‘cos I didn’t pack that extra kaftan?

The only way I have been able to cope with it all is to create piles of “maybes” and slowly counsel myself about eliminating those that arn’t necessities (I’ve been careful not to hurt the unnecessary clothing’s feelings). It’s taken me near a week to get my options down to one neat pile (applause please).

Then’s there’s the million and sixty things you have to pack to accompany a toddler to go anywhere. It doesn’t matter if it’s just a shopping trip down to Westfield or an adventure abroad, you simply must take the kitchen sink. Any mother will know this, and any father too who has had to pick the car. Another thing I agreed to was to put “Little Vicks” hiking backpack in the suitcase as well. It takes up the majority of the space, so our actual clothing and toiletries seem incidental as they have to fit around the pack (which I’m skeptical about whether we really need).

I think I have got it almost all sorted, but that was not possible without a few days of being completely and utterly flustered and in a stressful tizzy. Nothing like a few disagreements and anxious convulsions to make you feel like you really need your holiday. The only way to possibly cope with it all, is lists. Lists and lists of reminders, things to buy, food to pack, things to wash and pack later, lists of things to be included in the suitcase, lists of things to add to the carry on luggage, lists of toys for entertainment on the plane…. speaking of which, any recommendations for toddler entertainment on a plane? I have been told that it might just be the time to introduce the “lolly pop” to our little guy.

With the trip looming, I can only embrace what is ahead and laugh at myself, and imagine the sight us coming, and laugh at that too. It could be worse. I could have 2 kids ;-)

Wish me luck!

V x

 

 

 

Winging it in Asia!

Posted on by
2

You well might be expecting my posts to be about my little European trip but I’ve decided to focus on the eve of a more pressing adventure. You see, I’m counting down! This time next week I will be almost out of this country and into my own little paradise. 7 sleeps until I have my first visit to Asia. Although a stay in Phuket feels like I’m cheating in many ways ‘cos I know it’s going to be highly westernised in comparison to most parts of the continent. Asia is a place of opposites (or at least I’ve come to such a conclusion from a far). You either visit the big over populated cities, or you visit the striped back basic communities off the beaten track to soak up cultural traditions. With that said, I feel like I’m not doing either. Phuket I’ve decided is a bit like the Gold Coast; swarming with people either seeking the sun or pretending they’re still schoolies trawling from club to club.  I do confess that I make such judgements when I virtually know zilch about the place. Not only do I know practically nothing about the place but I’m opting to visit it with my one year old son. Who know’s what experience I am in for. Just to clarify here’s what I do know:

The Thai Ten:

  1. It’s the home of Pad Thai. I’m not ashamed to admit this is perhaps the no.1 thing that I’m excited about. I will attempt to eat it every day and will feel no shame at all.
  2. It is a 8-9 hour flight. When we booked this trip our little man was a mere 5 months old and very sweet and angelic. Did we even for a second consider what it was going to be like with an energetic, fully body wriggling, attention seeking little one year old? NO! We were, like in so many stages of this parenting journey, completely clueless or in denial about what was ahead. Now I know the reality I am completely daunted by what is probably going to be the longest 9 hours of my life where I expect my patience and embarrassment levels will be pushed to their absolute maximum.
  3. There’s good shopping there, so I’ve been told, although I’m not fully convinced it’s going to replicate my last  travelling shopping experience at the fabulous markets of Florence. I suspect the shopping in Phuket has a different charm – along the lines of tacky souvenirs which are always good gift ideas for the Grandparents and neighbours (who are going to be pleased you thought of them at all and will be happy to have something to hand to visitors and brag about). I’m thinking the selection is going to be along the lines of sarongs (which you bring home and never wear), beaded hippy like earrings (again, you never wear), elephant figurines (dust collectors)… you get my drift? I would be sooo happy however to be found completely wrong.  I’m saving space in my suitcase all the same in readiness.
  4. I need to be prepared to do some bartering. This is something i have to confess I haven’t had much practise with in my past travels and arn’t all that comfortable with but Thailand is the home of a bargain so I best get my right attitude on and get into it. After all I have no problems with bargains but generally bartering makes me feel like a cheap skate, and I end up feeling sorry for the market holder who almost always reeks of poverty. I will leave it to my partner in crime. He is shamelessly good at it. But I even get embarrassed when he does it. It’s double the embarrassment and the label cheap skate is only doubled too. I just need to suck it up right?
  5. There was not so long ago a very scary tsunami that devastated most of the island. There’s a little bit of panic inside of me that is saying – there could be a re-occurance. Even seeing something there that pays tribute to tragedy is likely to only stir up this fear. In a very selfish light I’m thinking I just want to be on holiday, I don’t want to have to feel.
  6. Paradise. It is clearly a haven for leisure, sun, sand, cocktails, lagoons…. I don’t think this needs further explanation.
  7. Pool bars. There’s nothing more that I like. I was first introduced to a pool bar in Fiji where I swam up and was delightfully shocked to find such a thing had been invented (I was 18 and had grown up in the pastures of the country where there wasn’t a pool of any kind for a good 50km’s and the closest bar was a 10 minute walk away from that). Of course it didn’t take me long to get acquainted and what I loved even more was that I was able to run up a tab and feel like it was (if only momentarily) complimentary!
  8. Cheap babysitters. I have been told they cost a mere $2 for the evening. I am not so inclined to believe that a good quality babysitter of a trustworthy nature would be so affordable, however I am delighted with the prospect of slipping a slight tip to a young lady working at the resort and getting to that pool bar!
  9. The heat, oh the big heat. This is concerning for me. I have deliberately not looked up weather averages but I predict myself it’s going to be anywhere from 28-34 degrees which could be survivable. Just a few more freckles from that kind of sunshine, but it’s the near 100% humidity that will be the death of me and not a pretty death. I’m thinking a lethargic, cranky, dribbling, sticky, smelly, thirsty, slow death.
  10. Elephants galore. My motto is when in Thailand, ride Elephants!

So that is the extent of my knowledge. I’m virtually an expert yeah?

For some reason I have convinced myself there is little point reading the Asian Lonely Planet guide that was a gift to me. It’s most unusual behaviour as I’m normally very anal retentive when it comes to knowing the know and planning out what to do 3-6 months in advance, but nup, not this time. I can see the learning curve I’ve had as I write this. An “a huh” moment as Oprah would call it. Having a baby does things to your pre-existing chore attitudes and routines that are embedded as a single digit. In hindsight I’ve learnt a great deal about “going with the flow” and “winging it”. The no. 1 thing I’ve learnt (only through moments of spuratic tears, frustration, searching for thy self); when a baby comes into your life (this is aplicable for travelling also) – if you plan, you are only setting yourself up for failure/disbelief/disappointment/ recentment/arguements/tears. No plans, no expectations, no worries. This is my motto -”Whilst in Asia, wing it”!

Let’s see where it gets me :-)

Word me up with any of your advice folks!