CULTURE SHOCK AT THE B&B

Ever wonder what you are really made of?  Go on vacation with a loved one.  Even better, rent your house to a large family from a foreign country where few speak your language and you are living in very close quarters. That is what I did last week.  Complicate things with adding a very practicing Muslim family with a menopausal feminist Spiritualist and there could not have been two more polar opposite families on the planet.  It was like a scene right out of “Wife Swap”. 

I always attempts to speak my mind, albeit with discretion and compassion but you have me host a burka wearing Muslim matriarch, two daughters with her four male counterparts all in shorts and contemporary wear and all my fears and social injustices surface.   You can’t even imagine the mismatch with me traipsing around in my shorts and skimpy tops in this 30+ stifling hot, summer days.   Please understand that what I write will initially seem politically incorrect but there is a happy ending. 

The B&B booking started off rocky.  I advertise my whole house rental and in large print, that “I LIVE THERE”.  When any groups asks if I can go somewhere else and leave my home, my hackles rise because I don’t have another place to stay at and for insurance purposes, I am only covered if I sleep there.  I assure them that I can fade into the woodwork and give them their privacy and always, when we meet, they relax but they have put the doubt into my mind and I feel unwelcome.  The stage has been set and it’s on wobbly supports.

The next concern was if I was married or had a boyfriend or family as their women could not be alone with another man.  Sadly, this would not be a problem.  Sigh.  To add insult to injury, a week ago I injured my shoulder and it had become a useless wing until it healed. I pride myself on always making a full breakfast for all my guests including the Airbnb crowd who don't expect it but I was afraid I would have to disappoint for the first time ever in two years and for 5 full nights!

The first 24 hours were rough. You know how it is when you are not in a good frame of mind and the season has been so long and so busy so I am weary running this place all alone and then small little things happen.  Six out of the 7 don’t close the exterior doors and we are having a heat wave so all my a/c is gone and flies are swarming in my house.  I hate flies, and I’m menopausal so the heat is making me crusty and crazy.  All the cork bathroom plank floors are coated in water and I worry about them swelling and having to be replaced.  What on earth is going on here?

On a more tension releasing note, I recently put on my door, Please Remove Your Shoes.  When they arrived, I saw seven large adult all barefooted.  They entered and I quickly went outside to bring in their shoes, asking what they would do if it started raining.  Guess the sign needs more work.  

Only two of the seven seem to speak English so being in a room with all the others is very isolating. There's now a big one foot scrape on my cork floor from one of the chairs they were sitting in. My fault yes I know- I should have fixed the felt but it’s been added to the crabby list.

 

They refused to eat any of my food saying, “let us take care of you. Canadian food is boring and we like very spicy we will cook you traditional meals.” I finally decided okay I will not cook for them because my arm hurts too much and this will be a real treat. So I had a morning snack and waited and waited and waited. The parents get up around 4 or 5 to pray but all five of their grown children sleep in till noon or 1:00pm. At this point I'm ravenous. They were all starting to look like pork chops.  I ended up cooking breakfast for seven but only two breakfasts were eaten.  That okay- they did warn me. Just before they go away to sightsee for the day, the dad says we might only stay here for a couple of days okay? Airbnb has taken all their money and I know it can be done easily and with all of my being I'm thinking yes just go. I don't have Arabic TV or radio so it's total silence when they are on the main floor. I have 5 days of this. I can't wait till it's over with. And the worst of it they are a wonderful family. It's so weird not being happy with the booking when you really can't pinpoint exactly why but it just didn’t feel like a good fit.  Rant over with.  Was I ever off base! 

After the first 24 hours, everybody relaxed and I learned their lifestyle challenged all of my most deeply engrained thoughts from self-care to socializing, faith and bringing up kids.  I found out that four of the seven actually spoke English and on the final day, the mom even said a few words in English.  She was holding out on me that sneaky devil.  My greatest relief was when the mother and daughters took over cutting up everything I provided so that my arm would not hurt. They were a very delightful family who stopped leaving doors open for the flies, and were very respectful. Guess I jumped the gun as I often do. They decided to stay the full five day and I was happy. 

I found out all about their faith by asking the dad questions and it was fascinating.  I knew they prayed a lot but it’s only when you are around it day by day that you get to question all the intricacies of their faith.  The men pray together 5x a day and the women separately, on their own time.  When the men bend over and are on the ground, they are getting a small exercise routine as they do everything 3-5x per session five times a day.  Something odd happens with their shorts… they pull them down to cover their knees while on the floor because their knees to just above the belly button must be covered but its ok if they show their underwear to strange women- me!  Woohoo! (I hope that's not blasphemy).  Even stranger still, they just spontaneously break off into almost silent prayer no matter who is around so I had a front row experience, without the popcorn.  One will start and like a silent radar frequency, that only the men can hear, they start to congregate.  The first time it happened, the eldest boy was in the living room and bent over as if to find something.  His brother came in and started looking to.  When the next two came in, I almost asked what they were looking for and then I realized, they weren’t looking for anything.  Glad I held my tongue for a change.

Women have to have their arms and legs covered to the ankle and wrist for their solitary worship.  I was frustrated by our lack of a shared language with the mom who wears a black burka back home but her husband told her not to here as it scares Canadians.  He might be right.  She always had to cover up her entire body and face to get something from the car.  I almost gasped when she returned the first time because all I saw was a nose.  

I solved the puzzle of the wet bathroom floors.  On an unrelated note, it seems many overseas people don’t know they can flush the toilet paper but they do now.  In their home country, they use bum guns to clean their posteriors. It’s a version of the bidet with a sprayer, hand held.  I now remember how messy the Thailand bathrooms were, always soaked so here was too.  In Canada, they had equipped each bathroom with a small water bottle and it worked but it was not a perfect fix. I used a lot of towels to soak up the floors.  I won’t miss that.  

I always ask my guests what music they like to listen to but Galaxy doesn’t seem to have their tunes.  The house is ungodly quiet as I don’t have any Saudi language TV or radio.  I loudly jokingly said at one dinner preparation time, I sure wish I could hear Saudi music and they all started to talk at once.  It was the mom speaking that made me think I could understood Saudi.  What was I thinking I could understand, and assumed she was saying they don’t like her music, (yes, I was projecting, and I nodded and agreed and smiled. My kids hate my music too).    What she had said was that day was a Muslim holy day and music is forbidden.  Oh my, I was so embarrassed.  I was able to hear some on the final morning, on the cell phone, but it was “church chanting”, not exactly the lively dance music I was hoping for. 

Meals were a trial.  I did not get the memo that they eat breakfast late and supper even later like everyone else on the planet already seem to know.  I serve the traditional NA meal at a mutually agreed time and if they say 8am, I get up 1½ hours earlier and pull it all together.  They say they eat everything but that is just a conceptual thing.  On the first morning, they told me to do NOTHING and that was agony.  They all had their mini espresso style coffees together in the back yard so I brought out a plate of pineapple, then watermelon, and other finger food and they were like locusts, esp the three twenty something boys.  That set the stage for me thinking, I know better, I should serve proper meals.  That night, I made an egg pizza and put it in the fridge.  They came home and saw it and dad almost convinced them that they had to be polite and eat it as a late night snack until mom said “don’t you dare touch it”.  Moms are so smart.  Imagine my horror when I would realize there was no breakfast the next day.  Wouldn’t have mattered… only two ate it.  What was I doing wrong?  

On the final two days, they said they were in charge of breakfast and then I saw the error of my ways.  Store bought hummus, but not my homemade stuff, pita bread, two kinds of olives, boiled eggs, BUT NEVER PEELED eggs or they won’t touch it, and some garden fresh tomatoes I had ready.  That’s it, that’s all.  I can’t survive on that but that is what they eat every single day.  I would feel like such a failure of a B&B owner if I only ever served just that. 

On the last day, they went sightseeing so before they left, I heckled the dad saying, “Well, Canadian food is all I’ve ever tasted. Sigh.”  They left and when it poured all day, I just knew they would be coming home early and cooking me supper.  Woohoo, I was right.  They made a critical couple of errors though.  They all went to the store hungry, and mom and dad went to do some other shopping and left the five grown kids to buy the meats.  OMG hilarious!  Upon returning, he asked me seriously if I thought we would have enough meat to BBQ.  I could not stop laughing.  There are 8 of us.  They bought 8 huge steaks plus 2 extra-large packages of round steak.  And some wanted chicken so they bought two large club pack trays of chicken breasts, about 16 -20 in total and someone threw in a large bag of shrimp. The meat alone was over the top hilarious.  Because they eat late, they stave off their hunger with a huge bowl of regular strength ice cream; no lite or low fat for them.  Supper was great but the first night we ate at 11:45 pfreakinm.  Who does that?  Have they never been to a Weight Watchers meeting who tell them to stop eating after 6?  I went to bed and collapsed 15 minutes later with mounds of half desiccated food festering in my belly.  You can be sure I didn’t weigh myself the next day or the day after.  And for the record, their food is quite bland but there is not a fattie among them.  The last night, we ate at a respectable hour, according to them, at 10:30 pm. 

Now let’s discuss how they bring up their kids.  One of my “fondest” memories of my teenagers was the phone call at work with the younger crying hysterically into the phone for me to return home because the older one had a butcher knife and was threatening to kill her.  Of course I couldn’t leave so I was a train wreck.  While these Saudi kids/adults may have a bad habit of sleeping till most of the day is gone, as soon as they get up, they kiss dad, then mom and then every sister younger than them, as a sign of respect. Wow!  They are well educated.   Their father is very close to the kids, especially the boys and constantly coaches them on how to be good citizens.

Alcohol is a huge issue in my culture, both when I grew up and now that my girls are adults.  Saudi kids don’t drink, at least until they go away from home to America and then they might drink responsibly.  The boys all attend universities in the states and then return home.  They like North American women and will date them but realize that they will only marry Saudi women because it would complicate their lives with different cultures, languages and faiths.  Smart boys.  If the parents only knew the conversations I had with the eldest one and making sure he used condoms if he was going out to prowl.  

The day before they left, they invited me to the beach.  We took separate cars as they left earlier.  What they did was get there before me and run like maniacs to the furthest part of the island under a grouping of trees so I would never be able to find them.  I did and the boys all went wandering, then the girls to use the bathroom and that left mom and I….awkward!  We spoke not a word and I waded ankle deep in the water in my shorts and sleeveless shirt while she was completely covered again.

I was never able to connect with the young teenaged girls and mom and I struggled with to communicate.  

After many talks, the dad jokingly suggested I become an honourary Muslim and I could dress like them. We both chuckled.  Dad was quite progressive and did say he felt badly that the women wore burkas and knew the clothing was hot.  He also told me that men can have up to seven wives.  Now that initially really irritated me.  He explained that with all the war, quite often, the widows had no one to take care of them so the men would marry more to keep them safe and fed.  That kind of made sense but I did not become his second wife.  He assured me that his current wife would not like it one bit if he remarried BUT, she would be the cherished one, no matter how many he had.  Nope, still not interested in sharing.

On the last day, moments before departure, I told them I had changed my mind and asked if it would be rude of me to ask their mom to wrap me up in their burka attire and they agreed.  I ran to get my wraps and she began.  She wrapped the shawl many, many times around me until I started to get claustrophobic and panicky.  How do they breathe like that?  I saw her eyes and nose but only a small wet spot where she was breathing thru the cloth. I asked if they could take a picture of us and she started speaking and gesturing to my arms.  I know, I know so I put on another shawl to cover the trampy arms.  Then she gestured to my legs and tore another strip off of my dignity as a harlot.  I know, I know, they can take the picture above my knees.  She put her glasses on and there we were, two Muslim ladies; one comfortable and one wanting to scream, “Get me out of this”.  They were very kind to allow me this. In “our” old country, I would have to wear sunglasses too.    

I knew I would not survive converting mostly because of the heavy clothes so suddenly, running the bed and breakfast alone did not seem like such a burden and I will be grateful for what I have.  I feel so privileged to have spent this week with them, sharing cultures and faiths.  

Getting back into the Swing of Things after the winter dry spell. Spring 2016!

It's coming. Listen to the scary sharp suspense music - do you hear it too? The B&B season is gearing up to be even busier than last year. More bookings this month, some return visitors; word is getting out. My school mentors once said that some businesses fail because they are too successful and I thought that was so ridiculous. I can see it- you burn our, start forgetting things. I am really off my game this season. I really, really loved the break with an occasional booking because I kept busy with having workshops etc.They feed my soul going into spring.  

Yesterday, it was 10:30 am, I was still in my pajamas, looking quite dreadful, the house looked worse. I was having very late arrival guests so there was absolutely no rush and I was enjoying relaxation mode. A woman knocked- I almost ignored her like it was Halloween again when the lights are off and I drop silently to the floor lol but thought better of it. I opened the door and she said,"Hi, I'm Jane" and just waited. I had no idea what she wanted with the interminably long pregnant pause until she said "I'm here for my massage." OMG, is this Saturday? I promised her only a 5 minute wait and moved heaven and earth and took a "shower", (deodorant), set up the table, music and had one of the best guests ever. She had won a free massage, and is the first person to ever redeem one of the many giveaways I've given. Heaven help me when they all find their coupons and come a calling. 

I was rethinking giving away one hour massages until I realized, after an hour, we were best friends and she's coming to my workshops and invited me out for drinks with her friends. And the best part was, I remembered her husband when they both received a shoulder massage. I had told him I had an acupressure mat for him to try and I could never figure out which person in the draw he was. Victory is mine!! And just for the record, I have never ever forgotten a guest's arrival but no promises for the future.  

I'm still in dopey mode, whiny mode- why do I have to start cleaning again, and making meals and changing those infernal beds. Alcohol is certainly not helping my maid mindset, no matter how early I start because it's always 5:00 somewhere in the world.

I have to remember how no matter how many times guests tell me they are lactose/gluten... intolerant so I have to plan a special menu around them only to have them ask for the exact item I carefully made sure was not on the table.
My neck was hurting so I knew if I went to bed, it would relax and all would be well in the universe. I slept like a log and woke up TWICE to use the bathroom. Gotta stop drinking water so late. The third time, I decided to look at the time....11:30pm. Huh? I don't understand. What day is it? It's dark outside but that doesn't help.   I had muted my phone for the night and there were 13 important texts I had ignored for the entire day which is unheard of. My phone is always with me. I backtracked and saw that I hadn't brushed my teeth yet. Weird. I went downstairs and saw the curtains weren't shut for the night. I am hungry so maybe I didn't eat supper. My late day medication is untouched. I have some unfinished work on my laptop and finally I cracked the code. I look into history when this was last saved and it was 4:30pm when I must have lay down for a power nap. I slept for SEVEN!!!! hours and woke up the same day before midnight. I'm hooped, aren't I? Great way to start March.

The funny part about this post is it was written in spring as the season was gearing up to be very very busy.  I forgot to post it and now the next post is the season is over with.  Dang!  Am I going to have to fill in the blanks? Not going to happen.  

Long Weekend In the Off Season; on Germs, 2 Night stays and Breakfast on Time- March 10th 2016

Well, normally, in a burbs B&B, it’s peaceful, civilized and heavenly quiet, albeit poor, from January to April.  I have my spiritual workshops and they feed my soul and give me pocket change but the pace is so wonderful.  I finally can connect with old friends who have stopped bothered inviting me to their weekend events because they know I have to hang around to welcome another first timer to my place, bake up something hot and welcoming and most likely, my car is blocked anyway so I’m a happy prisoner.  Now I don’t have that excuse anymore but it’s good because except for the -44 with the windchill weather we had recently, I have cabin fever and need to get away.

This weekend was the anomaly.  Valentine’s and Family Day all in one.  Wow, they packed the house.  And the best part was, they each stayed for two nights!!!!  OMG that is a first.  For the last year, I have hosted guests from all over the world in a location that is not downtown, so not a destination.  All of them have stayed for one night exactly.

I belong to a number of online groups for all the other B&B owners and I'm learning thru them -I have to for the one nighter issue.  I am the queen of one night stands... that can't be taken the wrong way, can it?  Is it time to join the B&B owner and learning from the school of hard knocks and change my ways? Seven of the longest months of my life, changing beds daily from people who stayed ONLY one night.  Now most other seasoned owners have a two night minimum but new entrepreneurs don't have the guts to be that hard lined.  I'm torn.  It's a lot of work for one night but I also like the coming and going of frequent travelers. I haven’t been open long enough to feel comfortable enough to say, "two night minimum, ya bums," like the veterans do it but I finally get it.  Maybe a dollar value off each additional night they stay?  Imagine, having a full house, and at 11 am, they all leave, and three hours later, I have to have cleaned up the breakfast feast, changed all the beds, cleaned all the bathrooms and vacuumed to be ready for 2pm.  If a particularly long haired woman has stayed, I also need to de-hair the place and especially the shower. I almost have collected enough to clone another human being. And I can't tell you how much I love vacuuming daily.  

It was wonderful to let the rooms go to the dogs somewhat these last few months, but this weekend was trying.  Getting back on the horse after a long break is tough.  You get up too early ‘cause you are no longer in the groove.  You overcook until you realize that they are all from Airbnb and aren’t really expecting any food.  Boy are they in for a nice surprise.  

Now here’s the catch. I haven’t been sick in three years, ever since I bought my Bed of Nails acupressure mat that I lie on at least once a day for 1-2 hours.  No colds, nothing!  If I’m honest with myself, I haven’t been around many children, or sick people, to my knowledge so I haven’t challenged this theory thoroughly.  This weekend, I did.  The man from the first couple had the sniffles.  I was ok.  I am a germaphobe if you are showing symptoms in the first three days.  Keep away from me; I will give you a pillow (to cover your face) and blanket and you can sleep in your car.  Don’t touch anything, or breathe on me and for the love of God, don’t touch my kitchen.  Normally, I have an extremely relaxed house but when a couple shows up and late in the day, lady starts showing significant signs and is streaming like an ebola patient, I’m officially in quarantine mode. I discreetly carry a soapy cloth and wipe down everything.  It’s probably not a bad thing because the house finally gets a proper cleaning but it’s soooo much work.  Suddenly, their snacking in the kitchen at the island is transferred to “maybe you will have more room in the dining room”.  “No, no, no, let me get that for you.  YOU are the guest”.  STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN is what I am screaming in my head with an angelic smile on my face.  She gets it and is very gracious when I explain that I have never been sick while in business and have no idea what I would do or how I would be able to manage alone.  Thankfully, her job entails the same level of stealth when it comes to germs.  I love her for understanding.

 Also, for many years, my colds have consistently lasted more than a month of hacking coughs so I DO have a legitimate reason to be annoyingly germaphobic.  I did resist the urge to wrap her firmly in saran wrap and put her in her vehicle; I think I showed marvelous restraint, but I did finally ban her from touching anything and waited on her hand and foot; made a special brew to drink, fed her vitamins… spoiled her rotten.  They slept in the master suite so I have no idea if there is enough disinfectant to clean everything.  Tell me I’m not doomed.

Update… my health survived.  Sure, I gobbled Vitamin C pills like they were going out of style, I have no more finger prints from washing everything so much, my breath smells permanently like turkey day and stuffing from the Oil of Oregano I swear by, and I know most of it is placebo and in my head, but I survived unscathed.  Woohoo!

After that issue was solved, everyone went down for the count early at night, including me.  The main room upstairs and the basement room are ungodly cold at night in winter especially when we are in Wind Chill country.  They both put on their heaters, and then fell asleep.  Big mistake.  One was turned off in the middle of the night but the poor young lads in the basement woke to full body sweats and dry noses even though two woke up to use the bathroom and still didn’t think to turn the heater off.  This would never have even been discovered if I hadn’t had to go look for some snow pants they could borrow in their closet the next morning.  One minute and the stuffed turkey breath B&B owner was cooked.  Thankfully, they are staying another night and their last memory of here will not be when the crazy clock lady tried to cook their keesters. 

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, yes, I know I am a saint, we all negotiated breakfast times that suited everyone.  Two groups for 8:30 and one for 10.  I am very punctual with breakfasts because I don’t want to disrupt schedules and make people miss their events.  Sometimes I am even quick enough to let them know that 8:30, in my manic, obsessive world means exactly 8:30.  It’s a thing of pride for me to plan for 1 ½ hours to have everything perfectly planned and executed.  But then they ALL slept in; said the beds were sooo comfy.  Damnit people, this is not how to run a tight ship with lovers on vacation.  I should have learned the trumpet when I was in the military, or at least had the nerve to pick up pots and pans to bang but alas, I put it all back in the oven for another hour or two to dry out and have them cluck silently, 'not bad but a little dry.  Wonder if I should tell her'. 

But I get the last laughs always.  I tell them to make sure they take all their belongings and often they forget the shower or a fancy makeup cream gets left under the bed which of course, I won’t find for months after its expiry date due to my housekeeping skills, or lack thereof.  A lesser person would screech happily but I just put it in the lost and found and one day, my staff and I will all share the booty.  So with that said, since I am a staff of one, I get stuck with all this crap.    

Next, I don’t have to go out in the cold and finally, when they have put on their worst attire to brave the cold and freezing rain for the next many hours, its picture time in the Spoiled Rotten Lineup so all those people who thought they would sneak away without a shower or brushing their hair, are all rethinking that decision.  Mama always told you to wear clean underwear and look your best for a reason.  

(Thanks for posing Natalie and baby)

The Final Days - Bangkok aka hell, and the 83 hour flight back to civilization

Well, we arrived in my favourite city Bangkok and sadly it has not undergone any changes.  It's still stifling hot, the infrastructure is all broken, it's difficult to navigate the streets and raw chicken with flies all over it is still on platters in the sun,   Nothing has changed.

The final day was sad with my daughter.  We were both bone tired and in a gravol stupor from the Red eye bus.  Made our way over to my second favorite place in Thailand, the first hostel who had kept our extra bags which was very nice of them.  We arrived at 5am to yak with a bored bartender who let me have a shower.  Funny, it wasn't as horrifying the second time when you realize much of Thailand is similar, but it was still out of a Stephen King movie gross.  I came out feeling like a million dollars, and prepared my knapsack for the trip home and to take on all daughter's excess and by the time I finished it, I was a river of sweat.  How do this live in this humidity at 5AM????

So she thought I would like the Golden Palace, which is a famous temple.  Due to her superior navigating skills, we traveled the city all day for about 30 cents.  She is travel agent extraordinaire.  At the Golden Palace, we knew already that there was a dress code and it was on the PA the whole time.  We had been wandering the streets and there were police everywhere...something was going on.  At the temple, we joined the sea of humanity- I think all of Thailand was on holidays.  Everything you want to see is mostly outside in the 1000 degree temperature but I have dressed appropriately and she is in a skimpy dress with tiny sleeves.  Out comes my shawl and my outfit is complete.  The only thing I have to offer her is a black omg winter sweater.  The joke was on me; the clothing police pointed to me and told me to cover up; I'm covered from head to toe.  Daughter's tramp dress was fine and I had to wear the black sweater which was my version of a burka.  Now I know have may not have been the best sport up until now but you have NEVER seen a crabbier, more miserable, bitchy traveler than I was on that day.  My poor daughter.  She was watching her coin and I was unbearable so we refused to pay the hefty 500 baht ($17) took a few random photos, did the sour grapes thing, (I never wanted to go anyway) and left.  She was sweet enough to take me to a local trinket shop to see what they were all selling as mementos from the Palace and it was the jade Buddha.  Took a picture and was all caught up.

My reality was the oppressive heat so we bused to Terminal 21, which is an odd high end mall, with air conditioning and each floor is a different themed country.  The main floor highlighted Italy but it was the gorgeous bathroom that captivated us.  The seats were automated with a panel on the side that resembled an airline panel. I didn't have my glasses handy so I took a picture of it and checked out how to use it after.  There is warm water spray for the front, a separate one for the back end, a bidet, a blow dryer and temperature settings.  WTH.  I want this in Canada. We did a bathroom run on the different floors but this was the best.

Daughter was desperately trying to make my last day busy and eventful but we were pooped.  We decided to go see a movie upstairs... chose a kids Dinosaur movie with the intention of sleeping and that's exactly  what we did. She slept more than me and I was enjoying the movie until the baby dinosaur got separated from his family and had to travel alone.  Well, the significance of that event and my 27 year old traveling alone again overwhelmed me and I was the sobbing, Kleenex drenched mommy thinking of deserting her baby in this Bangkok hellhole and then Australia for another year.  Patrons must have thought I really got into the movie.  So glad she slept.

With my red nose, we walked to Chinatown, which to me is the whole city but we were on a mission to find the restaurant we missed on the first arrival date that received a great rating for Pad Thai.  She made me walk, like my older sister always does on vacation.  It's a conspiracy, I'm sure.  100 hours later, feeling hot and sweaty, we arrived to an open building with one single man shaking his head to let us know they were closed, even tho Google said they were open.  Another couple followed behind us with the same reaction.  More forced walking and we settled upon a restaurant called the Sidewalk Cafe and it was quite possibly the food highlight of my trip.

We took lots of pictures and tried to cross the busy streets with median full of flowers and pictures of their king/leader/dictator?  Suddenly, we noticed the streets, which normally had 9 rows of traffic each way were empty.  It was such an eerie feeling.  I took out my camera and heard a voice warn me, "No pictures lady".  The royal family was passing through the downtown and they love their royalty.  His picture is everywhere.  Daughter warned me that if I drop a baht bill on the ground and it starts to fly away, if I step on it, it's game over sister.
Bought matching bracelets and went back one last time to get our luggage and take the final metro to the airport...no tearful goodbyes but it's bittersweet as I don't know when I will see her again.  I've learned that I'm a terrible third world backpacker and my body is reminding me of that.  It saddens me to realize this but I just don't enjoy this anymore.  When did I become old?

Went to use the bathroom and the attendant smiled and talked in Thai to me for 3 minutes...awkward.  I made my exit but she sought me out again to "talk" some more.  Really nice lady but she is the sole attendant for exactly one bathroom; that's it, that's all, nothing else, and there are only 3 stalls.  No wonder she's bored.  This place takes their bathrooms seriously.  Then there were three looking after the bathroom.  WTH.  I can't go with that many people listening.  24 hours earlier, I had buckets of money but now I have nothing left.  Spent it all with daughter.  Canadian money is useless, and the last security confiscated my last water bottle.  I hope I don't perish from the airport smog, poverty or lack of food and water.

Seat selection is very important to me.  I like the aisle seats only and especially if they are only two together; it's a claustrophobic thing.  On the upcoming 5 hour flight, I chose the perfect seat.  Heaven, until a young girl asked in broken English if she could sit beside her relative, and switch seats with me. The old lady beside me starts smiling like a jackal and talking a mile a minute and nodding her head at what  a good idea this is but she speaks not a word of English.  Damn, I really want my seat but this poor young girl will be alone for 5 hours.  Finally, and with a panicky feeling, I very reluctantly agreed to sit in the middle section, only to find out that half the plane are her relatives, she falls instantly asleep for five hours and said not one word to the old bat.  On the next flight, it happens all over again so I said, I will only switch if I end up in a two seater in the aisle.  Since they had to work it out amongst themselves, they gave up and I was happy.

On the flight, time is all screwed up and they deliver lunch or supper at 2am.  I'm all messed up but I eat it anyway.  stood most of the flight at the back and did stretching.  We flew over the North Pole.  Damn, it looked cold.

Back in Ottawa finally.  It's cold and I'm busing home.  The cold is all I could dream of in Bangkok but we've just had an ice storm.  Walking the finally two blocks gives me time to walk one inch at a time, and thinking that I may never eat rice or noodles again. My poor body is a toxic cocktail of smog and Gravol. My hair is gross, I gave up on makeup 17 days earlier and all the clothes that got soaked on the ferry 24 hours earlier, well, they are starting to stink.  I have become that hippy that no one wants to stand downwind from.  Can't wait to eat salad again, and have a bubble bath back at Spoiled Rotten Bed and Breakfast.   I want to be spoiled rotten!!!!!!  I LOVE Canada and my home.

Can you guess- me with my sweater on at the Temple.  Not a happy menopausal traveler in this heat.

The Grand Palace.

At Terminal 21 mall on the Japanese floor.

My beauty at one of the colourful road medians before they almost shot me for taking a picture of their exulted leader.

Street food- scorpions.

Our matching bracelets and the end of our journey together.  

The Golden Palace was sooo busy.

Weird seeing Christmas in the heat.

This bathroom console made my bum happy.

We didn't talk about the elephant in the room- my departure.

The Japanese bathroom was beautiful too.

Chi mannequins.  Hmmm.

The democracy monument.

Off to the islands to Scuba Dive and the Drunkards 26-29 Nov

It's travel day and travel with anyone is challenging; add 12 solid days together with a family member, and it would test the finest relationship, let alone a loving mother and daughter.  Self reminder:  don't kill her off yet as you will surely perish.  She knows that I know that she knows only she can keep me alive.
The flight to Ko Samao was quick but arranging the bus to the subsequent ferry was more challenging.  You know when you are being taken, by choosing the first desk you come to because you are in a very big hurry and they tell you there are only two more seats and of course you are traveling in pairs.  Bloody hell, I know they are taking advantage of us but we pay.  And we did get the ferry so whatever, eh?  It's just money!
While we wait for the ferry, I notice that the scenery is spectacular and all sunsetty; it reminds me of Greece.  The drawback is, the nearby island has just celebrated their Full Moon Party, (an excuse to party and puke) and while we hoped they would all be too hungover to travel, the Night of Living Dead has become our reality and they are all lined up in various methods of drunkdom.  Seriously, some are incapable of walking so they are flung over their friend's shoulder, they must push themselves because there is another Drunken Party walk / Pub Crawl on the next island that is calling them.  Oh, it's going to be a long ferry ride.  They are all in their 20s and exactly what you don't want your young adults to resemble; the great unwashed, hippies, pants off their commando butts to make a plumber proud, and commando because they would have to do laundry...yes, I know I'm coming off not as the cool mom but a tad judgmental. The ride is rough and I should be puking along side of them but my mind is hellbent on being in top form to rush off the ferry and get the best accommodations before these zombies; I did not have to hurry.  I wanted a bungalow on the beach with air conditioning, a luxury none of these travelers would be blessed with, something I should have been more sympathetic about.

The first dive company to overpower us also offered accommodations as they are each affiliated with different places to stay.  It was 1000 baht- holy cow, that's alot ($30) and the places sucked. Finally settled on one that was fine, and the mattress was again, petrified stone, the bathroom is dripping, but the AC rocks.  Sadly, we are a few hours short of signing up for the open water dive and the mood is low.  She rested and I went for a long walk in the dark up endless hills, down thru poverty covered streets, dark roads and full feeling of safety. A young couple of store owners were killing time and one piped up, "How old you".  I overestimated a tad for the shock value and said, I'm almost 60 and they both whispered frantically and smiled.  I have no idea what that was about but I'm hoping they were thinking how well preserved I was.  And the day ended.
Hopefully tomorrow will be a Fun Dive.  Poor daughter, no dive, and almost no communication with dad or sister.  Traveling lonely sucks.

27th-28th
After a relatively early start, once we realized there was no WiFi as promised, we checked out a day early and funny how they are so welcoming when you arrive for two days but leaving early, "don't waste their their time".  Whatever, I get it, but no WiFi, no money.  We cabbed to the next town over and checked out three properties and finally settled on the most expensive one, on our own beach with the waves crashing.  FINALLY!  Why didn't I do this 2 weeks earlier instead of doing the hippy bum thing and saving money.
While she rested from another long night of deserting me and partying, I went into the water and counted my blessings.  It looked like the water's edge was full of seaweed but actually, it was a massive school of fish and every time you walk through them, they part and circle around.  As I was just present, with only my head above water, the strangest phenomenon happened.  All the fish, simultaneously stood on their fins and jumped or flew out of the water towards me as if to attack.  Imagine 1000s of tiny killer goldfish attacking you - it was hilarious and spectacular and surreal.
It was right up there with the bio-luminescence of British Columbia.  Simply stunning.

Now here is where things get dicey.  The really nice dive shop signed us up the previous day.  After talking with many shops, they all agreed, if I have gone diving in the last year or two, I probably don't need the refresher...it's about 1000 baht....( I keep getting caught up in the number of zeros and I think, no way, I can't afford that- $30 to save my life.  I'm a terrible scuba diver).  This company however says within 6 months so I bold face lie and pay just the dive fee.  Once back at the room, later that night, I remember I had taken a picture of the details of my last dive.  It was four years ago.  I was dripping with panic.  I have forgotten everything.  When we arrived though, they said, if I wanted to just sit in on the course to be with my daughter, it was no problem.  OH THANK GOD!  Unfortunately, the scrawny English speaking dive instructor was constantly referring to me, Mama, for the right answers and I just didn't have them.  I don't do well on the spot so I fell back on, "we don't use that sign in Canada".  He rolled his eyes, pretended he believed me and explained it anyway.  It was very nerve wracking trying to appear knowledgeable and save $30.  So not worth it.  Funny thing was, like riding a bike, once you enter the water, it all comes back.

We killed time by walking back to our previous town and shopping, then eating, what else... the same damn thing I've eaten for 17 days.. rice or noodles with our new diving friends.  We got outfitted, crammed my body in a wet suit...a truly humiliating experience beside all the bikini clad 20 somethings putting on their sexy second skins.  I hate them all.  :)  They nimbly leapt into the Dragontail boat and I clumsily did the whale asking permission to beach on the boat thing.  Off that boat onto the larger dive boat to find the only spot left in the Gulf of Thailand that isn't infested with jellyfish.  As we approached Mango Cove, the waves were Titanic and oh so pukey so we had to turn around and find some other spot.  We joined all the 1000s of other dive boats and not one jellyfish.  Diving was amazing but seeing it thru the eyes of a daughter who has waited all her life to do this, and seeing the sheer joy, was worth every penny.  I will live to regret this because I promised, as her Christmas gift, to pay for her certification the next time she is near the area.  At least she will be certified for Australia and the Great Barrier Reef where one day I will see her again and dive.  Right up there on the bucket list.

But I digress.  Daughter signs up for the Pub Crawl and all but telling me in no uncertain terms, I will not be invited, I cannot go, my presence is not required.... and oh, it's for my own good.  I would hate it.  What an ingrate!  She reminded me I could get another massage, eat in a real restaurant and just chill.  No longer the cool mom, I see, so I get my $6 Thai massage and witness some of the best massages on the planet and I leave without tipping again because that is what the internet said and my daughter.  What is challenging about getting massages after you have taken the course is your mind is always on the current techniques and you can't just relax anymore and just enjoy it.  This was the second massage booked with the same person because she was gifted.  Then off to another cheap eating dive and while planning to eat overlooking the water, a chatty traveler and I start yakking and solo dining is not to be.  He's an Emergency driver from NY so out comes my business card.

We see the drunken queue walking down the street and later, I follow the noise to see fire poi is being twirled on he beach.  I know she will be not far but as the drunken masses stand to leave, I see Daughter reach for the poi, and have them set on fire, for her first time, and start spinning like a wild dervish, whatever that is.  OMG, this is what she does when I am not around.    Stunned at how good she is, I take out my camera and start taking pictures, and when she looked up and saw that she had the memory in print, she just beamed.  That was the second top moment of the trip, alongside diving.  What I now have to deal with is knowing she enjoys her all night parties, playing with fire, probably running with scissors and when she is sick, there is no one around to get her better.  These are hard truths for a mom to learn.

29th
We got up early to swim and finally daughter saw the dancing fish, twice.  Damn, and then they reappeared for the old broad as an encore.  We walked to the other town for a Canadian Poutine and the weather was 3000 degrees.  The couple from Canada were so friendly and desperate for Canadian cheese whiz etc.  Remember Seinfeld's sponge worthy episode?  Well these two gems were maple syrup worthy and thrilled.  They had just received another bottle that was almost empty.  He was serving shooters with a slice of Canadian bacon, some booze and maple syrup.  Catchy but no. Unfortunately, I asked the owner about tipping in Thailand and he says you should.  OMG!  I raced back as fast as I could to the massage place and properly take care of her.  I felt like poop for all the others.  If I believe in coming back to re-live my unresolved conflicts, I guess I will have to come back to Bangkok again, God help me.

My friend Linda back home had asked me to pick her up some Thai yoga pants from the factory but as with the maple syrup, it never happened. As you enter all the identical shops, you ask if there are large and in broken English, they respond, "One size only, Thai size.  You too big". Well, in the blink of an eye, I choose three, don't try them on, figure I can let the elastic out  and strike a bargain.  As I waddle away, I realized that I had paid $7 per pants, normally they would be about $60.  Yup, I should have bought many but then I would have to carry many.  Back, home, I realized I was part of the one size fits all club.  Woohoo!

Back at the beach side bungalow, we wait for our ferry transfers that never arrived.  No one is in their stall and we realize they may be on the main road waiting...and waiting and getting very annoyed.  Oops.  The ferry lineups were long, and we were often in the wrong queue.  The ferry was Satanic.  Many hours driving into a tsunami, as the boat tossed and turned like a rag doll.  Daughter sat on the open deck up top with no seats and two new friends loving every minute.  I had relocated to the centre with an airline puke bag glued to my mouth and a green face for hours.  Others on the ferry looked at me with pity, each sporting their own misery.  After many particularly harrowing boat rocking almost too far right and left, I went in my wallet, took out the only gvt document I was willing to lose, my drivers license and slipped it in a deep pocket.  I had heard too many capsized ferry stories lately and I wanted them to know who the foreigner was when the body was washed ashore.  Truly, I thought this was my time.  All of our knapsacks had been placed on the outside deck and covered in tarp.  ALL of the knapsacks were solid laundry that had not gone thru the spin cycle and we would now have no dry clothes for the next 24 hours till my trip home.  I wanna go home, not back to Bangkok/ Hades and definitely not back to the first hostel where our suitcases were- Hell on Earth.  God help me.

We zombie wandered, yes, I had become one of the masses I loved to hate, and were directed to our bus.  Another OMG moment.  It was a sardine open backed mini bus/van with 4 benches facing each other.  This is the all nighter bus.  NOOOOOOOOOOO!  Daughter sees the look of panic and reassures me it's only the bus to the depot.  Whew! It's another harrowing ride but the wait is worth it.  In Thailand,  I took my first bus ride that was an all nighter and the best I've ever taken.  They gave us each snacks and water, a blankie, pillow, the seat reclined FLAT....it was wonderful.  Now, looking like the locals, we head to our last day in Bangkok.

Waiting for the ferry.

My fav bungalow on the beach.

Our beach, shared by all.

She always dresses like me.

She forced me to eat this every day.

Caught her playing with fire.

The scuba diving class.

Looked like Santorini, right?

The dive master.  Funny guy.

Daughter and I.

He liked her.

Lots of hanging beds.

The scary bus.

The great all nighter bus.  

For the record, no one on the planet ever looks as good as she did after diving.  Such a rotten daughter making me look bad.  We were sharing our song, Stolen Dance by Milky Chance tho and that was the best memory.

More Chang Mai, Festivals, Massage, and good Samaritans - Nov 25 2015

Not a stellar start to a day with tourista and going to do a Thai massage course, with 3 hours of bending.  Oh my! One of my favourite clients wrote me today to inquire about my trip and if I can teach him massage.  Which one, I wonder, hot stones, Thai massage or old faithful? How about Thai Stone Fusion???

I just got smoked by the cabbie and it's my own damned fault for not learning the language.  I asked the front desk for my Thai word for taxi and the word taxi; unfortunately they are not the same thing.  The Thai word is the cheapest cabbie but Taxi is the big ticket item...like ordering a limo at 200 baht, you know, $6!!!  Highway robbery.  Well, this poor driver earned his keep.  I gave him the name, the Thai name, and I showed him the Google MapMe so he could find it but he circled the downtown for what seemed like ages until he called and realized it was in the centre of a block, not to be seen from the road.  It really goes against my grain to not tip but I read about it and my hippy vagabond veteran of travel Daughter assured me you never tip, so I didn't.  I was almost late for the best class I've ever taken.  
By the way, take note, MapMe is the best ever app to download on your phones for getting around without WiFi.  Loved it!!

Back to Thai massage - there were only 5 of us so I was paired with a random Yoga student who spoke not a word of English.  Imagine telling the teacher to translate not to put too much pressure on the bra strap as "the sisters" were getting squashed.  Poor guy.  Miming was challenging.  It was only a three hour class for back massage but somehow, I was so interested that on every break, I would ask the instructor to show me the proper way to do....literally everything.  All the previous massages I had had that week since I had arrived prepared me for learning my favourite moves.  Now, I'm not passing judgment but one snot nosed physio gratefully lapped up the free info and then sneered, "you must be hell on your instructors when you are on course".  Bloody ingrate. 

I did show my gratitude by telling some casual inquirers for the course that they HAD to sign up here.  They did.  Passed out their flyers all day.  
The taxi home was a colossal failure of monstrous proportions.  I showed him the name of my guest house, in English and Thai, and the map again.  Daughter tells me they can't read maps although they put on a good show.  We stopped no less than 4-5x to recheck the maps, his paper and my computer.  I said Inspire and he repeated Spicy Thai hostel.   No, no no.  We circled for about an hour and ended up on the far side of town at the Spicy Thai.  After three other handsome dudes joined us with their own challenges explaining where they were going, I warned them they would be sorry joining my journey.  I was right.  We were sooooo lost.  They were this adorable gay couple from Arizona and wanted to know all about my B&B so I had to pull out yet another business card that happened to be handy.  You never know...
I was so late getting back to join Daughter at her Embassy visit across town, ironically almost across the road from the Spicy Thai hostel.  Outside our hotel, a tuktuk was magically there and the most wonderful partially English speaking driver (maybe that was the miracle) was waiting to take us cross town for next to nothing.  We jumped out a block early and he was worried so as we turned the corner, he parked, got out of his car and followed us.  While we were in line at the embassy, he caught our eye, smiled and waved, happy he didn't desert two nice foreigners left to their own devices. Wow, now that's customer service.  
Sometimes Mom is cool for travelling and other times, her questions are just plain annoying.  I wanted to get more info about the Lantern festival that night.  Everyone in town, ok the misinformed travelers, had too much conflicting information so I wanted to ask the so sweet Embassy dude who always had an accommodating smile.  He gave me the info and said it was an hour bus ride away, he knew because he lived right there.  I intentionally blurted, well wouldn't it be easier for us if we just carpooled with you when you get off work.  He agreed and we were beside ourselves with gratitude.  On the tuktuk over, I again mentioned manifesting a good, safe and available ride to the festival.  Woohoo.  We had to kill 45 minutes so we went to our first temple together, across the road.  Of course we must be dressed properly even tho there was only one other participant.  On went the capris pants and sweaters and shawls....

So we met up with dude and got a direct ride to the university, gave out our first Chinese Canadian maple syrup thankyou bottle and with absolutely no idea where to go next, and not a soul looking "like us" or speaking English, we were on to our next adventure.  I stopped on sole walker and said Lantern??? We got the best directions ever in Thai- the arm point and we were on our way heading down a 1-2 km deserted road with hope.  We were the only "loco" walkers, which was perturbing but the lineup of cars was rush hour long on the dirt, dusty road.   Finally, we joined a mass exodus to see this beauty.  

Here's the scoop.  The city sponsors a city lantern festival along with the floating flowers in the river.  People did it locally but supposedly the city cancelled that one, altho no one seemed to have gotten the memo.  The big one, one hour out of town, is sold out a year in advance at a mind blowing Thai perspective of $100 USD.  There is also another, it's all so confusing, one that the monks offer but they are a rogue breakaway group so we skipped that one.  The one we went to is separated by the big one by a narrow river.  

On one side, is the rich planners who bought a ticket and the other side is for cheapies like us who pay for one lantern and light it up three hours early with all the others and watch it float away, sometimes into the trees to catch fire.  We changed locations a few times and resat in dirt.  One time, we left and walked a ways to a new place.  Five minutes later, a young Thai lad walked up to me in the dark, no less, and asked if I was Miss Cathy?  Ok, come on.  This is getting weird.  When I left the last site, my only credit card fell out of my pocket or purse and he tracked me down.  There is no picture on it and there were LOTS of white people.  Perhaps it was my beauty... but more likely my age that made me memorable. What decrepit old lady travels to Thailand.   I was stunned.  
Our side kept busy for three hours.  Their side lit their 1000s at 9pm sharp and the sky exploded with beauty and fireworks and then they were finished in moments.  Next comes the long, suffocating sardine taxi ride home.  Oh boy, that's fun, and they don't close the rear door so if they slam on breaks, I have no idea if people fall out; oh maybe that's why we are wedged in there.  Imagine going from Cumberland to Kanata, the far side, in rush hour for $3!  

A typical day ends with a wonderful event, for this old broad but not the youngster in the group.  I have more pictures in my collection of early morning parties I was NOT invited to.  I'm getting a complex.  

Well that's almost it for the mainland.  Off to the islands to scuba dive and get Daughter certified and knock another item off her quickly dwindling bucket list.  

The local city random lightings of lanterns

You wouldn't believe how nice this hotel's marketing was for this room.  It was fine but our standard of living was improving.

This is some of the decorations for the parade 

Does your city have gargantuan floats like this.  Amazing!

The local floating of the candle food and flower bouquets.The streets are packed!

Our wonderful tuktuk good Samaritan driver.

It's official, temples won't catch fire when Daughters worship.

The temple

One of the first lightings.  Quite magical.

Perhaps this is better.  The paid side.