No Call Number: Thailand

Our frenetic traveling days are over. Nonetheless, I had planned to do a few cultural things during the week we spent in Phuket. Alas, it wasn't in the cards. We spent the entire time in Bangtao, with the exception of one day when we hired a private guide and went to Phang Nga Bay, Kho Panyee fishing village, and a temple whose name I can't remember.

And boy, was it fun. We are really psyched to be moving to Hawaii now. Xander loves the beach. He loves playing in the sand, running into the water, and splashing at the shoreline. He likes the little treasures that wash up on the sand (sadly, often trash!) and, when the water was calm, floating past where the waves broke.

Phuket is a cheap resort town that was overrun with Europeans, particularly Russians. Everyone spoke English. We ate many good meals, most of which were in sight of the ocean. Xander impressed some people with his mature palate--normally the person ordering a burger and fries was his daddy. Xander loves rice and most vegetables. We did most of our shopping on the beach: there were little market stalls everywhere, and people wandered up and down the beach selling things. We even rode a crazy Thai "taxi"--a motor scooter hooked up to a cart with some seats on it.

Our tour was hectic, but fun. Phang Nga bay is beautiful. James Bond island is not as cool as it looks in the pictures and was overrun with tourists. Kho Panyee, a Muslim fishing village, was interesting to see. The entire village, which includes a school, mosque, and hospital, floats on the water. We bought banana pancakes from a stall there--Xander was a fan. He also liked all of the cats. Muslims are definitely cat people. We had lunch at a fantastic floating restaurant with several pet birds, and afterwards Xander snoozed while Bobby and I checked out a temple that was in a huge cave. I have almost no pictures of it because, as we know by now, you are not permitted to take pictures of the Buddha.

Saturday was Songkran, and we got to see a parade in the morning. Shortly afterwards, our beach chair lady (who we visited every day) showed up with a little girl, who played in the sand with Xander. They painted his face with some cream and shot him with a water gun. He was not thrilled about the water gun, but he was curious enough to wander back into the line of fire a few times. He ate several little buns with sausages in them that our beach chair lady proffered. Later, we went out for lunch and were all shot with water guns. Xander, popular as he is, took most of the fire. He was okay with it as long as the water wasn't too cold and didn't hit his face. Apparently it's a cleansing ritual.

It was a relaxing trip, and we were sorry to leave, particularly since it meant plunging back into the hectic process of moving to another country.