I did have some fun while in Bangkok, even beyond the rooftops and the boats. And I did have some low points in between.

All things coconut: For a full afternoon, I became ever more amazed at how versatile a coconut can be. It makes a lot more sense now, why it is a highly planted and traded crop. First, I helped to make some dessert dumplings with coconut milk. Second, I watched as a man climbed up a make-shift ladder to grab some coconut sap off a tree, then go through the process over hot flames, to create coconut sugar – which we failed miserably at straining. And lastly, a lifelong toy maker guided me in crafting a little kayak that wobbles and paddles as it skims along the pond. For a simple toy, it made everyone feel like a kid as we walked back and forth next to the water, over and over and over again. Smiles all around!

Bicycle ride: The Chao Phraya river has a notable oxbow, where it wanders in a U-shape. The locals built a canal to bypass the oxbow and thus save time and keep a straighter route with their boats. This, however, created an island within the river, known as Ko Kret. Part of our day’s adventure, was getting to the island, via subway, elevated train, taxi, and finally a short ferry. Once on Ko Kret, I wandered through a dense market, full of stalls with everything from fried edible flowers and clay pots of curry sauces for lunch, to every version of Thai sweets for dessert. And then, we hopped on bicycles to follow the path that goes around the island. My favourite part of the ride was simply the air movement that cooled me down. But it was also fun to suddenly be on an elevated boardwalk passing stilt houses. And having locals confirm our choice whenever the path forked, with a simple smile and an extended arm. Anything and everything residents need out there, either came along this thin path, or from their riverfront. There is something quite charming about that lifestyle. And it was special to have the bikes to be able to glimpse it.

And yet….

Physical discomfort: As much as I loved riding the bicycle, I disliked having to stop because the heat and humidity would immediately descend on me. I have always felt far more comfortable at the “ice rink” end of the internal thermostat scale, than the “tropical jungle” end. Maybe I would eventually get used to it? (If I tried to adapt to it over weeks? months??) As the days progressed, I self-diagnosed the start of a heat rash on my hands and arms. The walk from the apartment to the work space was about 20 minutes, and I was usually a tired, dehydrated, sweaty puddle when I got there – which was oddly contradicted by needing my warmest sweater to fight the air conditioning. I had a very low, yet constant tinge of nausea, which I also attributed to the heat. I was drinking A LOT of water, but with every restaurant and bar, I had to guess what quality of ice cubes they were using – given the tap water wasn’t drinkable. There was one day when my body did say “Enough!” and I fainted (nothing dramatic or glamourous), and then had an extended toilet break. With whatever offending food and/or drink having gone through me, I started to feel better, and oddly stronger. Still, almost daily, I caught myself daydreaming about snow and green salads.

Coronavirus anxiety: In Bangkok, everyone was proceeding with normal daily activities – very few people wore face masks; there were no orders to stay at home; and I had a full slate of guided tours. But I was seeing images and news from other countries that showed a very different life. I was starting to feel guilty, and wondering how to share adventure stories when friends were starting lockdown in Europe. I was anxious that this guilt would carry further into our next country – Was it a bad time to be in Japan because schools were closing there, or the best time to be in Japan because I would experience scenic areas without crowds of tourists? Traveler’s guilt aside, in March, Japan had been flagged by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, as a high risk country to visit. Even if I were to decide that it was safe for me to be in Japan, would the next country on the itinerary (Malaysia) have the same outlook and welcome me? Not much was truly known about COVID-19, which was the fundamental point of anxiety. With the CDC flag, Remote Year did offer that anyone could ‘skip’ Japan without financial penalty. This brought a new daily topic, as each person wrestled with going or not going to Japan, and the underlying implications it would have on our group – our group that was really starting to get some strong community spirit and strength. I was gradually becoming emotionally exhausted.

In the end, no one went to Japan. But that’s for another blog post.