Eat, Pray, NOT

Could it be that I am already nearly a tenth of the way through my Amazing Southeast Asia Adventure? It seems that I could! Today is Day 5 of 60, and while it is a bit late to start a trip log, better late than never and better now than later.

Let me preface this by saying that I am not trying to experience or write the next Eat, Pray, Love as about twenty people suggested upon hearing that I am taking a two-month leave from work. This is an important, boldface-worthy point. I didn't like the book. I wouldn't like the author if I met her in person. I probably wouldn't like the movie. I will not be played by Julia Roberts (ideally, it would be Matthew Broderick, but realistically, probably the bitter guy from Sideways with the receding hairline). I most likely won't be visiting any countries beginning with the letter "I." I will not be taking a vow of silence, although I suspect it would be much easier for me than Elizabeth Gilbert. I am not seeking self-redemption — OK, maybe I am a little bit, but not in the arms of Javier Bardiem, more likely in the arms of a Thai ladyboy (just kidding, mom).

I'm writing this from a restaurant/bar called La Luna on the eastern coast of Ko Yao Noi, a little island east of Phuket. I wandered in last night and downed a few excellent margaritas, and the owner/chef/bartender, Romano, ordered me to return to try the wood-fired pizza made from ingredients imported from Italy. So here I am, waiting obediently for my "Romano's Chili" pizza. I have eaten plenty of excellent Thai food, but hey, variety is the spice of life, and hopefully the occasional respite from the literal spice of local cuisine can be excused.

Let's start at the very beginning — four days ago, on January 13, I took a noon-ish flight from Shanghai to Bangkok, arrived and met a coworker's friend, Kitty, for dinner at Taling Plang in Central World and a drink at the bar atop the Centara Hotel. Kitty, like me, is an over-orderer, and we stuffed ourselves with various dishes including a delicious steamed squid with lime and chilies. Kitty thinks that she can eat spicier food than I can — we’ll have to see about that.

The next day, I slept in, and hit Bangkok's only must-see tourist attractions: the Grand Palace, and Wat Pho, home of “Reclining Buddha,” the world's largest representation of a superhuman couch potato. I also stopped at Wat Arun, which in Thai means “Temple of Dawn,” so I hope the spirits are not angry that I watched the sunset there rather than the sunrise. I met Kitty again and her very nice friends (Ari, Charlie, and Jane) at Soul Food for a delicious pan-Thai dinner and a refreshing vodka/lemongrass cocktail. Everyone except me went home, and I stayed behind and chatted with the chef (Jarrett) and his wife Candace, who also lived in Shanghai for a time, and moved away just as I arrived two and a half years ago.

The pizza has arrived. It is, as promised, quite good. There is something refreshing about being able to get a decent pizza even in this fairly obscure place. Or maybe it's a hint that perhaps I have not strayed far enough from the beaten path (new rule for travel in Asia: if you can get a decent pizza, you're not anywhere interesting).

Day 3: I went for an early-morning jog, then Tom Sam Paradise for Issan food for lunch, then at Charlie's advice wandered around Lumphini Park and Silom Road, parked at a Starbucks to plan my next destination, and headed on to the Chatachuk Night Market. I wandered around there for a few hours, stopped for a drink at Viva (an "alternative" bar suggested by Jarrett), and headed to Chinatown for a street-food dinner and then a drink at the Londoner Pub, which purports to brew the only cream bitter in Asia.

Day 4: a late-morning AirAsia flight from Bangkok to Phuket, a 300-baht taxi ride to the pier (pretty sure I got ripped off there), a 110-baht boat ride from Phuket to Ko Yao Noi, and a 100-baht ride in the back of a converted pickup truck to the Tha Khao Bay View bungalows. My bungalow is a spartan little one, set on a hillside with a nice view of Phang Nga Bay. I ate a late lunch, checked into my room, and drove aimlessly around the island on my rented moped trying to become less white. I succeeded in becoming much more red.

At night, I jogged down the east coast of Ko Yao Noi. After a shower, I headed to a festival at the local school featuring students dancing, and students' parents singing absolutely godawful karaoke. I grabbed a largely unmemorable dinner at the food stalls (well, the chicken skewer dripping with some sort of tasteless but texturally revolting orange glop was memorable, but not in a good way). Afterwards I enjoyed the aforementioned margaritas at La Luna.

The pizza is done. I kind of want another one, but I will restrain myself.

Today, day 5: I happened to wake up momentarily at about 6 a.m., saw a gorgeous sunrise out the window of my bungalow, thought “that's nice,” and then rolled over and went back to sleep. (I'm pretty sure the only way I will ever see a sunrise anymore is if it's visible from my bed.) I woke up for real at about 9:30, had a breakfast of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions and homemade bread at Sabia's Corner, and then spent the day sitting on the beach, swimming, and reading.

I just ordered a panna cotta with mango and amaretto, highly recommended by Romano, who as it turns out has a day job as a carpenter. Sounds like a busy life — not exactly what you think of for a Westerner living in a tropical paradise.

Tonight: went on a glorious jog on the west side of the island. I left on my moped from my hotel (on the east side of the island) around 5 p.m., wearing running gear, figuring that I would stop at some point on the west side of the island and go on a 5-mile-or-so run somewhere with a view of the sunset. I ended up driving just about as far northwest as you can without very advanced moped-ing skills (I saw two Thai guys disappear with ease up a very very steep rocky path on a scooter; I would probably disappear off to the side of the path before long).

The panna cotta has arrived. It is simple but delicious. I think I would frequent this restaurant if it were in Shanghai.

Back to the run: I dismounted the scooter and headed north for a bit on a path that ended at a nice viewpoint after a thousand feet or so, then turned around and ran south, hoping that I could find a nice place to watch the sunset when the time came. Fortuitously, right about 3 miles south and just as the day's sun was its final throes I stumbled upon a path leading to a long pier jutting into the Andaman Sea. I followed it, to the shouts of a throng of surprised girls yelling "farang! farang!" — "foreigner! foreigner!" — and sat on the dock and absorbed an amazing, 360º, all-encompassing sunset. I returned to the path and ran back to my moped in the moonlight to a backing track of frenziedly chirping insects punctuated by the cries of children playing, the occasional oncoming scooter, unseen animals scurrying aside the road, and crackling electric lines overhead.

The run was, unfortunately, also punctuated frequently by whiffs of fish shit. Turns out there are a lot of fish farms on the west side of the island, which may explain why there are no resorts there, or perhaps vice versa. Buy wild, folks!

Drinks ordered tonight: margarita, caipiroska, margarita. It's 10 p.m., and about time to hit the road before I am tempted to order drink #4 which would probably disqualify me from being a responsible moped driver, if there is such a thing. Tomorrow: kayaking.