A latte

It's funny with jobs.
Most often the exact thing you do for work is probably not what you want to run home to do at night or on vacation.

I have been off coffee for more than a month now, but today after a steaming hot bowl of delicious Khao Soi curry soup on a steaming hot day with an adorable little cafe complete with beautiful wooden lounge chairs just begging to be sat in across the street, I purchased a steaming hot latte to complete the experience. 

This coffee shop has the right idea. Behind the counter there's a living room where his 8 year old can yell out to him whenever while watching her favorite show.  Plus. The place is just so cute!

Now for the actual experience of sitting having a coffee....

He brings out the gorgeus drink with a cute round glass of ice water accompanied by sugars and sweeteners and little spoon. It's all just cuter than cute. 

I sip.
I write.
I stare out at passing mopeds and trucks. There's a little barber shop across the street. A women working there just held her empty plate up and waved across the street. A family member or restaurany owner must be coming to fetch it.
Inside the coffee shop I hear him pulling and cutting tape. Maybe he's working on making signs? Mailing a package?

My big bowl of chicken curry is settling in my tummy and my lips are still on fire from the extra Chile sauce I added.

Sure enough an older women with a bright blue apron and thick rimmed glasses has come to fetch the plate. Right before crossing back she focuses her gaze on me briefly and then moves on.

It's not what you think though. Its because I am wearing bright orange pajama shorts and a tank top. I look ridiculous on any standard. I was able to wash my own clothes this morning in a real machine where items don't magically disappear and I dumped everything in, bag and all.  Then I got to close line them myself. I love doing this. Whacking and thwacking out the wrinkles and smelling the fresh clean scent. 

With every additional sip I taste delicious flavors. Nutty. Chocolate. Earth. Caramel. Not sweet but smooth and poignant and makes me stop and think after every tasting. My this is good!  My eyes pick up the waves of white leaf decoration amongst the chocolate caramel shades of espresso and feel a little sad to realize it's now half empty. How did this happen?  Who drank my perfect little latte of exact perfect temp, amount and flavor?  Where'd it go?

Mopeds.
Cars.
A few pedestrians with grocery bags.
A young couple just came in from their large black truck. Real locals doing real errands enjoying a real much needed break in their day.

The little girl has come from the back to say hello in her raspy high pitched voice
..SAWADEEKAW!!! And they are all laughing and talking and catching up while the tourist girl outside types away on her phone. Ah yes...the familiarity of this moment of the regulars chitting the chat makes my heart skip to be near it again, but this time I only smile to myself. 

Another sip. I let out a sigh and think about getting out my book. 
Mmmmmm.  So this is what this is like on the other side of the counter. 

There's nothing like:

Watching my sunglasses fall in a slow motion tragecticory into the pit toilet hole in the ground, at a bus station rest stop, filled with someone else's excrement. Followed by my own slow motion verbal...."shiiiiiiiiii"!

Digging thru my bag of clothes for some thing not atrotious and finally realizing that the dirty bag of clothes underneath the bag of supposed clean clothes smell better!

Realizing I'd forgotten to shave for a week and then realizing shortly after that that's quite all right. 

Getting put in the $7 AC room but paying for the $3 fan only room. Shazam!

Staying in a hostel again purely because it's next to a Thrift shop, a grocery store, a 7-11 and a coffee shop. 

Going ahead and getting into a tuk tuk at 1pm midday sun from the bus station with scorching heat and feeling pretty ok about shoveling out a whopping $3 to the nice quiet boy who 1. Knew where my hostel was, 2. Let me sit shot gun with AC blasting into my face 3. Seemed like a decent fella I didn't mind giving money to 4. Smiled and waved goodbye. 5. Didn't make me actually negotiate....just immediately lowered the price from $6 to $3 because he knew I was about to walk the whole flipping way if he didn't. 

Having so much to look forward to!!!

Laundry day tomorrow. 

Kitchen class the next. 

So many friends and stories and foods and places and yeah. But it's not over yet!  But also, very much needing to go home soon recharged and ready to rumble in my big ol' Brooklyn. 

This feeling of missing someone is an enormous pile of emotion I can hardly contain or understand.  A good morning and good night text every day is functional but does not do justice to the giant hole in my heart he usually fills.  Just truly proving to myself that R man is my home and happiness.

Super snack time.

Snack of the day

Seaweed and squid flavored tube chips.

Lunch! KAOW SOI

Delicious homemade egg noodles in a sweet curry soup with a chicken where the meat falls off the bone topped with fresh shallot, crispy fried noodle, some pickled cabbage and of course I sprinkled some dried chilies on top.

I came to the northern city of Chiang Mai Thailand just to eat this and my tummy is celebrating in a happy state of euphoria. I can still taste the sweet and the spice on my lips....is it bad to eat the same thing for breakfast lunch and dinner every day at the same place?  I'm in love.

Meal of the day!

Salted bean and eel paste and a Mackerel curry with rice.

Snack of the day

Fresh rice noodles with peanuts, pork, cucumber, herbs, chile's topped with fried spring rolls and iced tea.

My last day in Angkor Wat

The day started at 4:30 am when I biked with two new friends to a temple 25km away on a mountain top with a climb of 300 steps. It's was a magical morning walking in and around, thru, beautiful ruins with only two other tourists willing to make the climb in comparison the masses surrounding the temples closer in. 

On the way we passed thru a village where all the wooden hut houses are on stilts with make shift kitchens with wood fires burning under giant medieval looking kettles along the road. Kids waving and saying hello excitedly. Rice paddy fields with cows and chickens and ladies in the fields. 

After some time further out I biked solo back into the main temples to have some quiet moments alone to savor a few more temples in the mid day heat....the heat helped to quiet the roads and temples so there were less giant groups of Chinese tourists. 

Snack of the day!!

Dried plums

Not the snack of the day.

Viper booze. Maybe vodka?
I actually didn't get a good luck at the price tag. I snuck a photo in the grocery store and someone was coming around the corner.

Sólo travel culture

When I'm in a city, it feels like home and I can't imagine leaving it, until the day before I leave, and then I get the itch, even seeing other backpackers with their packs on makes me long for a nice long bus ride, but at the same time filled with the dread/excitement/anxiety of figuring out the next step.  What transport/hostel/city/map/money is next!?!  The unknown.

I have a few things I'd like to share about this odd experience of traveling alone. I spend a lot of time now by myself but surrounded by others. I also spend a lot of time in dorms....I'm pretty much just living out every persons dream of living in a permanent state of summer camp....sometimes I really don't believe I'm a grown up at all, I could be 12 again! 
Dorms:
Metal bunk beds. Stories of bed bugs. Inappropriate things happening in bunks late at night. People being noisy. People staying up late giggling. People getting up early. People snoring. It's all part of it. I've now witnessed dirty people/clean people/loud people/messy peopme and it's never who I expect it to be!! Ladies can snore!!  Also....it's such an intimate thing sleeping....just in that sense, I've now slept with 100's of strangers!  Who can say that and really mean it?  So grateful for my sleep mask and ear plugs!

I believe this is my first/last time truly backpacking. After a certain age you can still do it, but you become the weird creepy guy/girl which I have become all too familiar with as luckily I do not take offense when the old Brit guy hits on me and I explain how things are *old and married and he feels bad for his creepy plunder gone south.  Not to mention, jumping up onto a bunkbed?!?  Not always so easy! I had one place where I was on the top of a triple decker!  Don't think I'll be doing that in 20 years.

So that's the thing I struggle with the most in my writing this blog. Do I talk about the incredible culture of the new beautiful places I'm seeing....or the new beautiful culture of truly traveling as a solo backpacker and all the pros and cons of that interesting and unique culture in itself. Every day meeting amazing people from far off places in a hostel. It's intense!  Plus, the hostel can make or break a city for me....if there's no atmosphere/social meeting space, my battleship is sunk. I rely on an open meeting area where I can introduce myself to others and make plans for the day....it's like speed dating for friends, but it's important!!!  We are all doing it and desperate for a connection in the storm.

A little note here about writing about places....a lot of times my time to write is on buses/I pretty much never have privacy....to truly write my feelings about the full experience of a place....it feels wrong and offensive knowing full well the local guy sitting next to me on the bus is reading my every word in English with interest and curiosity.

I have all kinds of biases and intrigues and attitudes. Also bad things happen and great things have happened and I've edited those out too....hopefully I can do better from here on out in sharing info...

Well.  I guess I can start now!

Two friends have been mugged in front of me. That's for starters.  Both in Cambodia. Luckily I have lost nothing but the trauma is real and raw and it's horrible to witness. Both are safe and in the end lost nothing special but had to cancel debit cards and will need to return destroyed items to REI. They were smart and lucky and cautious. Keeping money in a bra instead of a purse in one case or locking their bag to their bike in another. Both drive by motorcycle robberies on main busy roads.

The poverty here is intense. Grandma's digging thru trash heaps. Children begging and memorizing capitals to impress tourists. The line between rich and poor is beyond drastic and it's scary and real and raw.  Giving money to beggars with babies on their sides will accomplish nothing but it's heart breaking to walk by and do nothing. It makes me feel a lot of feelings about the support people need from each other.

So there's my thoughts on life tonight. Thinking of all of you that  I love in this moment sitting solo on pub street sipping an angkor beer and wish you well.  Cheers!