Batik of change

The moment I saw this silky batik in a little shop in Koh Lanta, I knew where it would fit.

There are different types of batik and this one is not for wearing, it is to be hung on the wall. Its colour and the decoration were just perfect for a certain wall. And it was also the perfect memory of a beautiful land: to be hung close to the shores of a familiar sea, as a reminder of the exotic beauty of an Ocean far away. And after all, a souvenir has more value if it has a meaning, if it fits someone and no one else. Well, it took me more to write this down that to actually buy it.

Life is full of unexpected contingencies and it just so happens that the batik never made it to its perfect spot. The batik is in great shape and is now in Brussels, waiting for its final destination. But the wall to which it was destined is none of my business any longer. And so, the souvenir will stay here for a while, in the no-man's land of the unplanned, until I find its new home. 

Things happen sometimes and then a souvenir from Thailand unwillingly becomes a batik of change.

Epiphany in Rome

Rome has not appeared in a post for a while, despite my having been there a few times a year. Somehow it feels a little odd talking about a visit to Rome. Perhaps, it is a bit like having to figure out whether you are still in love with your ex: when in doubt, do not mention.

Yet, I did not have to figure it out: of course I am still in love with the city. And anyway, who said Rome is the past only?

Be that as it may, there you go, I am back again for a couple of days and fully sinking in the homecoming nostalgia awakened by the once familiar smell, nuance of blue of the sky, winter unexpected warmth. In fact, the sky is so blue and the sun so shiny that it feels more like March (or May, if you are in Brussels).

Yet, it is 6 January, Epiphany or la Befana, the last day of the Christmas holidays and the whole population seems to be taking a stroll in the city centre. So, it looks like I may not be able to walk through the crowds and make it to Piazza Navona today. In the meantime, the jet lag has kicked in, probably helped by those bucatini all'amatriciana flambé at Trattoria Vecchia Roma. In fact, I would not mind a nap in the sun. And as always I would not mind staying here a bit longer. But my plane leaves tomorrow morning early and the show must go on.

Koh Lanta

It took us a while and a bit of a struggle but eventually we found our little piece of paradise in Koh Lanta - leaving aside the fact of staying at a place called "Palace Hill" where only one of the two words was an accurate description of the - ahem - hotel. 

The best thing about our Palace was the affiliation to the "Palace beach", a more accurate match of name and architecture-location and also the best place to splurge with daily massages (even Thai massages for the brave), a Chung at sunset (Singha tasting too watery after a while), fresh fish and prawns barbecue on the beach and spilling the beans with new friends.

In the programme, also an excursion to the "four islands", of which we actually saw only one, due to the impossibility of convincing us to leave that beach after a mere half hour.

Concluding the stay with a fun mega-tuktuk ride to "Last beach" (or Bamboo Beach), at the not-so-far end of the island, to escape, just for a few hours, the lineup of restaurants and massage centres.

Ready to go back home. Or not.

Jet lag in Bangkok

Lack of time, lack of information, lack of energy. And plenty of sunshine, plenty of gold, plenty of people. So did the visit of Bangkok start, on a long day with very little sleep and very little food.

It felt like being in a dream, where things are new, funny, messy, shining but one does not fully feel them. 

According to the news, somewhere in town there were riots and protests against the government, but not quite at the Grand Palace, at the Pagoda or at the Wat Pho temple, home to the 43 metres long reclining Buddha and supposedly the birthplace of Thai massages.

In a few days the rebels plan to "shut down" the capital, but that will be after we are gone. And, anyway, now is time to explore the route to the southern beaches rather than the one to democracy in Thailand. 

More Bangkok indulgence before leaving? Highly recommended: a hot Tom Yam and Pad Thai for dinner and a B52 or a Mojito at the Asiatique Riverfront. 

Searching for paradise

Probably this is what everyone came here for. Thai beaches appeared in so many occasions as illustrations of paradise that people from all over the world now expect to find heaven everywhere in the Andaman sea.

And so the tourist thinks that perhaps that is going to happen just in one of those organised tours with fellow hopefuls, on that cute long tail boat the travel agency booked for you or on a fast speedyboat. Oh well, if nothing else is available, perhaps a liner ferry service to paradise will do too.

One is certain to find what he is looking for here. The price to pay is having to elbow your way through paradise across thousands of others sharing the same quest.

Most dream beaches here in South Thailand seem to be victims of their own success. Leonardo di Caprio winks from the Koh Phi Phi brochure, small archipelago Ko Khao Phing Kan is best known as James Bond island after Roger Moore's adventures here in 1974. As a result, long queues, paradise pics featuring some hundreds visitors, swimming your way through a cave to a hidden lagoon via a human traffic jam of sort.

Everything Thai seems so beautiful and so cheap. And so crowded of tourists.  Makes you fear it won't last for long.

Happy 2014

And that's it for now.

Although old Phuket town, half an hour away from Patong, does retain some charme, the impact of mass tourism on this part of the country is not for the better.

Farewell Phuket.