Singapore Part 2

 

My love of green spaces is well established by now.  Singapore has a campaign that says ‘Let’s make Singapore our garden’ and they do an excellent job just judging by Fort Canning.  The park is situated on a series of tiers with the lowest tiers open to car traffic. Plenty of benches, some waterfalls and, for some reason, chickens.  Okay. 

On the last full day of my trip, I explored yet another garden area full of sculptures and hedge creations near the Marina Sands.  A very peaceful place with much to see.

I still don’t understand how this huge baby sculpture exists.  What’s holding it up?

I found my new favorite store/restaurant.  It’s a Singapore exclusive called Bread Talk, a bakery located in every one of the 300 malls I’ve been in.  They provide you with a tray and some tongs and you just pick out what you want then go to pay.  The bread is amazing and each store has a slightly different selection so seeking out the stores was something of a scavenger hunt for me.  A theme song plays in the stores that, if I had to listen to it for 8 hours a day, would make me start beating people with a loaf of bread, but other than that, the store is great.

Since I didn’t get a chance to see much of Changi Airport when I came in, I decided to dedicate a day to explore it.  I jumped on the train and got out at the airport along with a bunch of other people who didn’t have luggage.

Now why

would anyone

go to an airport

just to hang out?

The waterfall is located in a crystal-like building called the Jewel.  It is a massive multilevel (two commonly used words for structures in Singapore) garden with mini-waterfalls and seating areas everywhere.  As you can see, it currently has a Marvel theme – strange, but since I’m a big Marvel fan, it worked for me.  Even with the branding and all the tourists, the garden is a peaceful place to chill in.  There’s theatrical music playing, mist from the waterfall to cool the skin, and plenty of people-watching to engage in.  This is only one of the couples I spotted having a photo shoot in the airport.

This being Singapore, there is a full mall in the airport along with multiple food courts.  The free movie theater was showing one of the Mission Impossible movies (could have been the latest one, I'm not sure).

The top floor of the Jewel is set up like an amusement park.  There are attractions like a virtual experience game, a hedge maze, a mirror maze, and a bouncing net all for separate fees.  You can also access the train that goes past the waterfall and the walkway for a better view.

The airport is so well designed that you could wander around for hours and keep yourself entertained, fed, and broke.  All for the cost of a short train ride from anywhere in the city.  And hey!  Free air conditioning!

Remember how I said everything was connected in Singapore?  I was not exaggerating.  On my first full day, Google Maps led me on surface streets to get to the Merlion and the Marina Sands hotel.  Turns out, you can get there through subway tunnels.  Most of my time in Singapore was spent wondering ‘where does this escalator go?  I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.’ In keeping with that mindset, I started to follow a group of determined looking people as they went up one escalator near the City Hall MRT, around the corner, through a parking garage, up another escalator, on and on.  I was stunned when we ended up at the outdoor bandstand across from the Marina Sands.  I was curious about where else you could get if you knew how.  I was also curious to see if I could find my way back taking the same route since I wasn't paying attention (better than I thought as I only made a couple of missteps).

Besides the gardens and Fort Canning, there are so many other great gathering spaces around the city.  I saw numerous groups of people taking a lunch and a blanket to a shady spot and having some fellowship during the afternoon.  Even the evenings were full of people just walking around and enjoying the summer breeze.  And why shouldn't they?  Singapore is safe, clean, and gorgeous.  I loved this place.  And while it's too expensive to live there, I would definitely go back for another visit.

 

Singapore

 

I’m kind of obsessed with the movie Crazy Rich Asians.  I’ve seen it multiple times and never get tired of it.  It is straight up pornography – food porn, rom-com porn, rich porn, Singapore porn (Singaporn) and I love it.  So, for this reason, I just had to visit Singapore where the movie is set.

Singapore is an easy 2 ½ hour flight from Bangkok with the added benefit of flying into Changi Airport, which is considered one of the best airports in the world.  Well, not so much when you first arrive.  It just looks like any other airport with large airy spaces.  Immigration was the first area where the airport stands out in an interesting way.  The arriving passengers are guided to a bunch of kiosks where you have to put in your passport info.  A couple of people are around to guide you through the process (very appreciated as I did have some problems).  The screen asks a bunch of questions about nationality and point of origin and at the end you are granted a 90-day visa (of sorts) to stay in the country.  A copy is emailed to you along with the picture they ask you to take of the screen.

Then it was on to transport to the hotel I’d booked for the week.  No taxi this time – I was encouraged to take the MRT, Singapore’s insanely well-organized public transit system.  I thought I’d have to buy a ticket or fuss with machines until the attendants told me to just press my debit card to the scanner at the gate and voila!  The gate let me pass.  No tickets or tokens to worry about.  Just scan your card to get out at your destination and the system charges you accordingly.  How’s that for convenient?

As for the rest of the trip to my hotel … not so much.  I got out at the recommended stop only to find it pouring rain.  I waited around for it to slacken up then had to wrangle all my bags, while holding my umbrella up to try to keep my phone dry while I traversed unfamiliar streets.  Oh, and there was a lot of traffic and construction that closed off some of the sidewalks.  And, sure, let’s go up some hills because I needed more of a challenge.  Then I dropped my umbrella in the road while I dashed across.  I heard a car honking trying to alert me, but it wasn’t until a nice man on the other side of the road pointed it out that I realized what happened.  He offered tips to get it and told me that people would stop for me.  In hindsight, I shouldn’t have risked my life for a cheap replaceable umbrella, but … I was new to the country, it could rain again, and I don’t like to litter.

Finally found my way to the D’Nova hotel and, well, I hated the place on sight.  I know that capsule hotels are popular in Singapore.  The rooms in those hotels are basically drawers to store people at night with a communal bathroom out in the hall.  Really not to my taste.  I looked for AirBNBs and hotels in the area, but the only place I could find that was even remotely affordable was this place.  It’s a slight step up from a capsule hotel, but the room is still just a glorified jail cell.  There is no chair, no desk (only a narrow shelf), no drawers, no closet, only one outlet and a 'privacy curtain' over the sink that offended me wherever it was situated.  The only benefits over a prison cell were that I didn’t have a roommate and I could leave whenever I wanted.  And it was clean.

The hotel is located on a side street from two main thoroughfares.  It’s surrounded by other tiny-room hotels and a lot of bars and restaurants, all of them stupidly expensive.  To add insult to injury, the two-high-rise complex of the Carlton hotel is located just across the street.  Rooms there go for around $600 a night.  Any questions why I’m staying in the dump?

The Carlton was just one example of the expense of this city.  Just down the street from my hotel is a huge, ornately decorated, white mall full of high-end stores and restaurants requiring reservations.  Down the street is yet another mall, a mix of big name-brand stores and more affordable options. Just like in Portugal, where you could throw a stick and hit a café, in Singapore that same stick would land you in a mall.  This country really wants your money.  The malls here are huge, beautiful, vibrant, and crowded places where everyone meets.

The City Hall MRT station is located in that mall, called Raffle City. It pissed me off to realize that this station is closer to the hotel than the one they recommended.  It could have saved me a lot of hassle to know that sooner.  But no matter.  This mall, with its MRT station, huge food court and grocery store on the lowest level, became my main point of reference in getting around the city.  Very helpful as I am prone to wondering aimlessly without keeping track of how to find my way home.

The next day was bright and sunny. Thanks to the movie, I knew just what sights I wanted to see first.  My phone took me on a circuitous route to get to the famous Merlion statue.  This image is on a lot of the merchandising and is so popular, there is a mini lion right in front of that statue and a whole park designed around it.  And just across the harbor is the iconic hotel where the final scene of Crazy Rich Asians takes place.  Now just to get there.

That is a looooong walk to get to those buildings.  It means going past a concert hall, an outdoor stadium with a running track, up some stairs, across a pedestrian bridge and into The Shoppes at Marina Sands Bay.  All in SE Asian summer heat.  Oy.

This mall is just … Huge.  Beautiful.  Crowded.  Way too rich for my blood.  There’s Fendi next to Marc Jacobs next to Van Cleef and Arpels next to Hermes next to … yet another store I didn’t even bother to go into.  Like I said, Singapore wants your money.  It wasn’t going to get mine, though.  And judging by the empty hands of most of the people I saw walking around as well as the bored workers standing around in those chi-chi stores, Singapore wasn’t getting anybody else’s money either.  The only place doing big business was the massive food court on the ground floor.

Technically, you don’t have to enter the mall to reach the hotel.  But, as I was soon to discover, everything in Singapore seems to be connected as long as you know how to get there.  This is the land of escalators and underground tunnels.  I wandered around, marveling at everything I saw.  This mall has a canal.  And like in Venice, you can rent boat rides after you get tired of the casino and the interactive light display near the food court.

I stumbled upon some escalators that led to the reception area of the hotel.  If you go through there (very crowded with people checking in), out the door and around the corner, you’ll find another set of escalators that will lead you to the ticketing area to get to the top of the hotel.  For about 30 SD, you get your picture taken (you have the option to pay for a copy later) and go up the elevator to the 56^th floor.  The boat shaped structure at the top of the three towers features a concession stand and a restaurant (only for guests of the hotel) and gives you a killer view of the city. 

Singapore is truly beautiful.  A very modern, safe, and clean place.  Seeing it from atop the towers was a great overview before really getting into exploring the city.

And this, friends, is how I spent my 4^th of July, 2023.

Phuket

Phuket (pronounced Poo-ket) is an island off the coast of Thailand.  Not a candidate for residency for me – I just wanted to see the place.  It’s known for its beauty and beaches and I wanted to get in some relaxation time.

First tip: do not take a taxi from the airport.  In fact, avoid taxis all over the island.  They are a complete rip-off.  Just take the bus.  My apartment was at the southernmost point of the island, about as far from the airport as you can get, and the taxi ride cost 1000 baht.  I only realized when I got to my AirBNB that the bus stops less than a ¼ mile away and costs 100 baht to get to the airport.  Yes, it takes longer and makes multiple stops, but it’s clean and runs regularly.  Just take the bus.

My AirBNB was another nice one with a decent view of the water.  The host greeted me there and showed me the place.  The shower is big enough to fit a family of four.  Fruit and water were provided along with beach towels and robes (nice). Two features of the place were new and unexpected.  First, a room cleaning service was provided every three days (which I didn’t really need – I don’t like people coming in and moving things in my hotel room let alone an AirBNB). And second, the power is charged separately from the prepaid AirBNB bill.  The host took me around the corner to a supply closet to show me the electricity meter.  We both took pictures of the meter to be compared to the readings at the end of my stay.  That was … different, but okay.

The apartment is located behind the row of restaurants and stores.  Crossing the busy street takes you to the water and the multiple stands of people trying to sell their services.  There are some restaurants and open markets with a longer walk, but that’s about it.  When there are more massage parlors and weed shops than grocery stores, it’s easy to pick up the vibe of this place.  It’s just meant for dissipated expats to sit around getting drunk and high all day.

Second tip: don’t stay in Rawai Beach.  It is pretty, but dull (unless you’re looking for weed or a massage).  The beach is not for swimming (something the host didn’t tell me until after I booked) because of all the boats and their moorings.  If you want a bit more excitement and choice of restaurants and activities, go for either Karon Beach or Patong Beach.  More on them later. 

I did discover my new favorite Thai food at a restaurant in Rawai.  Massaman Curry is a thick stew made with potatoes, onions, peanuts, and chicken.  I was given a huge bowl of it and was full long before I finished it.  Good stuff and not spicy like most Thai food.  I would happily order it again. 

The rain and rough winds made taking a water taxi or general boat ride a little iffy.  The nearby stand offered elephant experiences, guided tours, and trips to the islands but again, the weather was a factor.  It rained almost every day I was there, making planning difficult.

Third tip: don’t visit Thailand during the rainy season.  Bangkok and Chiang Mai weren’t so bad, but being that Phuket is an island, the rain there is just … sigh.  There’s so much of it.  I woke up one morning and it was pouring (ample excuse to go back to sleep).  Went to bed that night, after a relatively dry day, and it was pouring again.  After a while, the gray skies and all the water was just too gloomy to deal with.

Seeing old white men and their tiny Thai companions had become normal.  What I didn’t expect, on this island in particular, were the number of Russians around the place.  Their influence is so great here that many of the signs are in Thai, English, and/or Russian.  Hearing the language was one thing.  It was also seeing more than a few huge, muscled, highly tattooed men lumbering around.  I was sitting in a café one afternoon, just staring at the water while a Russian chick sat behind me, an old white man with a young Thai woman sat to my right, and there was the sound of a Muy Thai session coming from the studio next door.  Welcome to Thailand!

Oh yeah.  Thailand has dragons.  I knew that but was still surprised when I saw one in the water as I crossed a bridge.  I’m just glad I saw it from a distance.

Like I said earlier, the bus is a pretty reliable form of transit.  It even runs on the weekends with the same schedule.  Since Rawai was a bit of a dud, I took it up to Patong Beach, the party capital of the island.  About twenty minutes northwest of Rawai, Patong Beach is kind of a mini-Bangkok next to the water.  That’s where you’ll find many more busy streets, more cars, way too many motorcycles, and a lot more tourists and congestion. 

The beach is usable for bathers – at least partially.  There are also a bunch of businesses running on the beach that have it parceled out for their use only.  There are parasailing, jet skiing, and motorboat rentals scattered all along the beach. 

Patong is also where you’ll find the chain restaurants.  There was a massive Hooters (no pun intended) next to the Hard Rock along with the ubiquitous McDonald’s and Starbucks.  There was an entire street dedicated to bars and strip joints and the designs of some of those were … interesting.  When malls are dying all around America, Patong is home to a brand spanking new one, half-occupied and still under construction.  It consists of two separate buildings with a moat between them. It is impressive.  And not to worry.  There were plenty of weed shops and massage parlors.  The latter were always the easiest to spot even if you never saw a sign.  They were always fronted by a bunch of bored women in similar dress, calling out to people. 

Between Rawai and Patong is Karon Beach.  I didn’t get out to explore this one, but it looked to be the middle ground between the loud, crazy Patong and the quiet Rawai.  There was a decent beach, more for bathers than water sports, and the commercial section looked livelier. 

My flight to Singapore from Bangkok was early on a Monday.  It took 2 hours to get from Rawai Beach to the airport by bus and another 1 ½ hours to get to Bangkok.  No way I could do that all before my 10:40 flight, so I left Phuket a day early to give myself plenty of time.   The day did not start off well and it just kept getting worse.

I woke up and packed early enough to go out and get something to eat … only to find that most places were closed on Sunday. I walked up and down the road looking for anything edible (that wasn’t full of weed).  The Café Amazon was open but only sold muffins and coffee.  I then remembered a French Bakery off the main road and took the long walk to see if it was open.  Thankfully, it was.  I had a decent meal outside while listening to the chick at the table near me quietly chew her boyfriend out for the duration of my time there.  Dude must have been a serious glutton for punishment as he left the table at one point to go to his motorcycle only to come back for more berating.  Incidents like this really makes me glad to be a solo traveler.

A bus ride and short plane trip later and I’m back in Bangkok.  Getting a taxi from Don Mueang was a new kind of hell.  You are forced to go into this concrete tunnel down to a waiting room. They give you a number as soon as you enter and you have to watch the screens for your number, like at a bakery.  But there was no yummy scone waiting for me when my number came up.  After another wait at the desk (why call me if you don’t have someone ready to go?), I was shoved off on this grumpy man who led me to a cab.  He didn’t offer to help me with my bags or even look back to make sure I was following.  Nice start but it only got worse.

The desk had given him the address, so I didn’t bother.  Until, of course, we pulled up to the wrong place.  It didn’t look like the picture on Booking.com’s website and had a different name.  I tried to explain it to him, conscious of the language barrier, before showing him my phone.  The actual place was just up the street in this dodgy neighborhood near the airport (the only reason I chose it). As he got the luggage out of the trunk, I remained in the cab to carefully count out the money I owed him before handing it over.  I waited to make sure I’d given him the correct amount as it was dark and I’m still not comfortable with the money.  He counts it then tells me to get out.  Excuse you, jerk!  Please note that this was the same ^&(^hole who was trying to dump me at the wrong hotel.  It’s dark, it’s drizzling, I’m angry, hungry, and don’t know where I am.  Good times!

The place was better than I expected for the neighborhood and would do just fine for a single night.  Nothing more though, as the place was designed for people needing a place to stay for a quick trip to the airport in the morning.

I needed to put myself into a booze and carb coma – the second night in a row where I was compelled to do that.  The night before, the rain was getting me down so dinner was a pepperoni pizza, 2 Zombies, and French fries for dessert.  After I ate, I just sat and stared at the water.  Who needs weed when you have carbs?  (Damn.  That was a good coma.)

Following my phone, I ended up going the wrong way down a dark alley.  A lady sitting on a nearby porch called out ‘Madame?  Where are you going?”  I ignored her, realizing later that she was just trying to help the confused foreigner.  But by that point I was really tired of “Madame?” and people asking me to come into their shops, or restaurants, or if I wanted a massage.  I get that the calls come from underworked, bored-out-of-their-minds employees who need to attract people as part of their jobs, but enough already!  I’d had it with everyone trying to get my money, like I hadn’t already spent enough in Thailand.

After turning around and finding my way to the main road, I encountered more food stands but few actual restaurants on the street.  As it was still wet and I just wanted to get something quick, it was 7-11 to the rescue.  I got a prepared meal and an individual bottle of chilled wine and headed back.  The room had a microwave and wi-fi, so dinner and a show.

While the shower was good, the bed was a slab of concrete.  I got zero sleep and was up before the alarm.  I got dressed in record time to meet the airport shuttle arriving at seven.  Couldn’t wait to see the end of that hotel and Bangkok.

So.  To sum up my search for a new home, let’s put it this way: five weeks in Portugal and I didn’t want to leave.  After just three weeks in Thailand?  Where the plane at?

Chiang Mai

Like Ponta do Sol in Portugal, Chiang Mai has become a haven for digital nomads.  It’s easy to get a short-term visa, it has good and consistent wi-fi, and the city itself has set up many co-working spaces to accommodate the influx of temporary immigrants.  After hearing so much about the place, I had to spare some time to explore it.  After Madeira, this was my secondary relocation candidate.

After an hour flight from Bangkok, I grabbed a cab for the short trip to my new home for the week.  The host of my AirBNB met me at the place, a high-rise, modern-looking condo on a busy street.  Like the last condo in Bangkok, the place had its own security detail both inside and outside as well as a small coffee shop just inside the entrance.  The host led me through the lobby, through a service hallway (there were desks for arranging tours, providing rent and/or lease info, and arranging taxis and transfers to the airport), through the seemingly endless parking garage … where the hell was this place?  Finally, we came to a glassed-in mini lobby in Building B with a seating area just a few feet away from the elevators and stairs.  My place was on the twelfth floor at the end of the hall – a maddeningly long way to walk after a tiring travel day with all my luggage, but it turned out to be a nice place.

The host was amazingly thorough in her preparations.  She’d laid out a book full of suggested sites to see while in the city, instructions on the appliances, and all her contact info.  She’d even provided snacks, water, and laundry detergent, more than I’d seen from pretty much all the hosts so far.  I was impressed.

After missing out on the pool in Bangkok, I made sure to spend some time in the rooftop pool.  I even had it to myself for a while.  Very nice on a hot day.

Setting out to see the city, I was immediately struck by the small-town vibe of the place.  Sure, there are the same massage parlors and weed shops interspersed with restaurants and souvenir shops that you find in Bangkok.  There was still too much traffic on the roads, fewer taxis, but more of these red trucks that were good for moving a group of people.

At the same time, the sidewalks are mostly deserted during the day.  I kept wondering that first day if it was a holiday or something because I often had the sidewalk to myself.  I did notice a bunch of girls in school uniforms which made me think that Thailand has year-round school. There were the usual food carts scattered around and tended by bored-looking Thai people. The place feels kind of sleepy and not in a good way.

But, just like Bangkok, everything changes when the sun goes down.  The Night Bazaar occurs just down the street from my apartment and it seems like the entire town is in the streets.  They’re selling you stuff, or putting on live performances, or just shopping at the numerous stalls that are set up on the streets.

This was by far the strangest display I saw.  It’s not like you can take any of this stuff on a plane and the country won’t let you ship weapons so … I guess you just have to use your throwing star locally then leave it in Thailand?  Somehow, I think that would negate coming to a peaceful country in the first place.

Elephants are big here.  They are all over the place in the form of statues, paintings, bas relief images on walls.  One of the big tourist draws are the numerous elephant sanctuaries where you can take pictures and interact with them.  I couldn’t resist buying a couple pairs of comfy, airy pants with the animals emblazoned on them.  The pants are sold everywhere and many people walking around wore them.

A bit about the food.  Just as in Bangkok, it seems like every nationality is represented in the food.  I had something called shakshouka for breakfast one morning.  It is two fried eggs in tomato sauce with some frybread and a small salad originating from North Africa and the Middle East. I saw it on the menu and was intrigued.  It was surprisingly tasty.

Continuing to explore food for breakfast, I wandered into one of the street markets and found a restaurant nestled among the clothing stalls.  I ordered the only thing that sounded familiar, chicken soup, and this was the result.  A little intimating (how are you supposed to handle the chicken foot?  Is the brown cube of jelly supposed to be eaten or is it just there for flavoring?) but not a bad meal.

I found this great bakery catering to the American expats called Sunday Bakery.  Had a yummy buttermilk scone and a sparkling peach tea.  A nice snack that really hit the spot.

(Seriously?  I swear this place is haunting me.)

As there is a Hard Rock Café there, I had to buy my shirt.  They have live music at night which just adds to the cacophony of the Night Bazaar (also in walking distance from my apartment, the café is right in the middle of the Bazaar).

After a week and a half of passing by numerous massage parlors (how on Earth are you supposed to pick one over another? What makes one stand out over the others?) I chose a place that looked a bit like what I’m used to in America.  There were no bored masseurs sitting out front trying to wrangle customers.  This was a quiet place off the main road with an actual receptionist.  I told her what I wanted and (surprise) she could fit me in right away.  After a few minutes, I was shown to a room and told to disrobe.  That’s it.  I didn’t have to provide my name, address, next of kin, credit rating, or blood sample like I would in America.  It’s just come on in, get nekkid, and let this surprisingly strong Thai woman put her greasy hands all over me.  It was a good massage, if a bit strange.  The chick was all over the table, kneeling over me (not stepping on my back, mind you) and even putting me in a full nelson to crack my back.  A very thorough session that had me a little dizzy afterwards.  All for about $55 USD.

My last full day in Chiang Mai and I decided to do some more exploring on foot.  I crossed a couple of bridges and ended up in the less touristy part of town.  A tuk-tuk driver passed by and asked if I needed a ride.  I declined, saying I was just off exploring.  Then it started to rain and I regretted that decision.  Not to worry.  The driver had circled the block and met me again as I was walking past.  He pitched some of the touristy things he could take me to at a price of 400 baht for a couple of hours.  Since it was raining and I was far from the apartment – sure, dude I don’t know.  Drive me further away from the familiar in this foreign country in the rain.  I’ll just have to trust that you won’t abandon me somewhere (or worse).

The driver introduced himself as Nui then took my picture to send to his wife.  I was only the third customer he’d had that day and he was just about to pack it in.  He wanted to let his wife know that he wouldn’t be home right away as he had an actual fare.  He asked me what I had seen of the city and was shocked that I hadn’t visited the temples or the elephant sanctuary (feels exploitative to me – try watching the documentary Blackfish and see it as anything else.  These animals aren’t on this planet to entertain us.)

It started to rain in earnest as we headed out of the city.  Being a vehicle in Thailand, the rickety tuk-tuk was equipped with plastic sheets on the sides to keep out the rain.  But I just had to be macho when he first offered to lower them.  By our first stop, the seat on either side of me was covered in water.  I just tried to stay in the middle as much as possible. 

Instead of the touristy stuff, he took me to a series of warehouse just outside of town.  Oh.  Now I get it.  He must get a kickback for bringing people out there when normally a tourist wouldn’t know anything about these places.  The first place housed two sections, one for silver jewelry and the other for clothing and household goods.  The jewelry section was huge with multiple display cases and a very attentive woman watching to see what drew my eye so she could take it out.  There’s a reason I had her full attention as I was the only mark – I mean customer – in the place.  I got out of there with an elephant ring that is quite nice.  To someone who doesn’t wear rings.

The second part of this factory was run by a slippery Persian man who showed me scarves.  Then bedding.  Then rugs (which immediately made me think of Zaza).  The man was a damn good salesman and got me to spend way more than I had ever planned on a couple of scarves and a woven wall-hanging.  He was still trying to sell me stuff while I was heading out the door.

The next stop was another warehouse full of gems, statuary, and more jewelry.  This time I had three ladies following me around as they had no other customer in the building.  Within minutes of arriving in the building, I found myself sitting on a stool while two Thai women scouted around for my holes.  And being the boring grandma that I am, the reality was not as nasty as it sounds.  I had noticed a pendant that I liked and asked about the matching earrings.  They took them out for me to try on and, after two years of quarantine, I couldn’t get the things into my ears.  The ladies, being ever accommodating of the rare customer, sat me down and spent the next five minutes trying to get the jewelry in my ears while muttering to each other in Thai.  I had to laugh.  My life has gotten so weird(er)!

Needless to say, once they got the things in my ears, they had a sale.  I took the jewelry and headed back to the tuk-tuk.  Nui drove me to the last place on the agenda, a massive leather factory.  This attendant of yet another building devoid of customers showed me the different kinds of hides that the factory dealt in, then showed me to the handbags.  I had no intention of buying anything, but once again, I spotted something I liked and the attendant jumped at the chance to show me.  For some reason, I was drawn to anything made from elephant.  The woman quickly pointed out that the animal had not died for me.  Instead, it had died of natural causes and then been promptly chopped up and made into accessories! (I’m paraphrasing). I ended up with a nice backpack and a matching wallet.

After that, I was more than done with shopping.  I was already trying to figure out how to get all this stuff in my bag when Nui offered to take me somewhere else.  I don’t think so.  I asked him to take me back to the condo instead, pleased that he didn’t try to overcharge me or change the price he’d first quoted (I’d been warned about scammers).

Final verdict on Chiang Mai … meh.  Being a sensitive, how a place feels is very important to me.  As strange as it is, I felt more at home in Istanbul than I did in Chiang Mai.  And I felt like an alien in Istanbul.  The Thai people are wonderful, they speak more English than the Turks, food is cheap and plentiful, and the US dollar goes a long way.  But … I don’t know.  I just don’t think it’s a good fit for several reasons.

Not to get too graphic on you, but I had constipation twice while in the city.  I can’t even remember the last time I had this issue – in fact, I usually have the opposite problem because of all the water I drink.  I knew not to drink the water there, a habit I’ve picked up from the last two countries I’ve visited.  But something there, whether the water or the food, did not agree with me. 

The weather was yet another issue.  Excess rain depresses me under normal conditions, but when you have a place that has an established rainy season (along with a dry and a burning season), you know it’s going to be an ongoing problem.  I understand that the rain is more of an issue when you have to commute or regularly go out in it.  Being in a WFH situation is different than being a tourist, but I could still get just as depressed while sitting in my home office.

Also, I was walking back from dinner after dark one night and something raced across my path.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a Christmas elf.  That was the first time in my travels that I’d encountered a living rode (I did see a dead one in Amsterdam – ew.) and is yet another strike against this place.

Chiang Mai is a nice place to visit, but I don’t think I can live there.