This is called a To-Go Cup, er, Bag

In Thailand, to-go drinks are served in little plastic bags with handles and a straw.  Here, Lauren and I are drinking some of the best Thai iced tea in Chiang Mai.  To go.

I’ve decided Lauren needs to pitch the Food Network a show where she travels around the world sampling different foods.  I think the majority of our photos and footage are of the amazing foods we’ve had.

And food is definitely a highlight.

One Thai food we haven’t seen exported to the U.S. (but strongly believe should be) is Kao Soi (pronounced cow-soy).  It’s a soup-esque curry, with noodles, vegetables, tofu and crispy fried wontons on top.  But the amazing part is the sweet-spicy sauce.  It’s unlike any flavor I think I’ve ever tasted.  Like a party in your mouth.

My favorite Thai food, pad thai (which Lauren complained was a boring choice in the US, until she tried it here) is even more amazing in Thailand.  And I sampled the Indian food, masala tea, pork dumplings, tom ka gai, sushi and BeerLao that Lauren has blogged about before, and I’ll admit, they are worth writing home about. 

(Lauren: A palate pleasing highlight this “Thailand Take IV” trip for me was not in fact a Thai treat, but rather an alma mater specialty brew — Berryweiss Lienenkugels, straight from the ice covered tundra that is Wisconsin. Abby somehow managed to find a few bottles back home while she visited for Christmas (a feat only my fellow Madison alumni can fully appreciate, Berrywiess being a seasonal special), and brought one back to Thailand for my Christmas present. We split the bottle between the three of us, Abby and me relishing every drop.)

Traveling by Fire

Getting to Thailand was a re-induction into traveling somewhat equivalent to a fraternity hazing.   Lauren and I were up until 2am packing then had to get up at 4:30am to head to the airport.  We had a short flight from Kauai to Honolulu, a three-hour layover in Honolulu, an 8 hour flight to Tokyo, a 5 hour layover in Tokyo, a 7 hour flight to Bangkok, sleeping the night in Bangkok airport, a taxi ride into Bangkok to the train station to catch another 14 hour bus ride to Chiang Mai, where we were staying.  All in all, it was 48.5 hours of planes, cars and buses without beds, hotels or showers.

One quick story: When we arrived in Tokyo, we wanted to venture out into the city to get authentic sushi.  But as we got of the plane, a flight attendant grabbed us and told us they had overbooked our flight to Bangkok, so they wanted to put us on an earlier flight on a different airline.  We were to meet someone at gate 28B to get our new ticket.  The flight was to leave at 5:30pm, and we had 3 hours.

We decided, however, that sushi was more important than getting the ticket so we promptly took off searching for a food court.  After twenty minutes and consulting two different airport workers, we found a place that boasted it was the “last great sushi” you’d have before leaving Japan.  We took a seat and ordered California rolls, a spicy tuna roll, a tuna sashimi and Lauren had her first hot sake (a rice-whisky). 

After our meal, we went in search of gate 28B and discovered there was no plane, no passengers and no attendant waiting for us with our plane tickets. 

With both of us trying not to panic, we tried to reason through what had happened.  Did the flight attendant meant 15:30pm (3:30pm) instead?  Could the flight have been moved?

Suddenly, an announcement came over the intercom calling for Elizabeth George (why is it always “Elizabeth George” when I’m in trouble?) and a flight attendant spotted us and took us to where we were supposed to be.

The original flight attendant, who had told us to meet her at the gate, was clearly unpleased, but because of Japanese culture, she couldn’t be directly angry with us.  She would lose face and insult our honor.

“Where have you been?” she inquired nicely.

“We were downstairs waiting,” Lauren lied.

“I have been down there several times and you were not there,” she insisted.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” I added, “We were lost.”

“Ooooohhhhhh,” she said and nodded, accepting this answer — or otherwise thinking that bathroom conversation was not something she wanted to discuss with us.

In any case, we got our tickets and headed off for our next plane, honor still somewhat maintained.

Happy New Years, One Hour Early

In Bangkok, a few hours before midnight, several bombs went off, killing 2-3 people and injuring around a dozen people.  Authorities canceled events in Bangkok and Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second largest city – where we were.  Our hotel was directly across the street from the main square, where the official activities were to take place.

After emailing home and blogging that we were in fact intact, we took off for a party further away from the main festivities where we were greeted by several of Abby’s friends, free beer, and giant paper hot air balloons that could be sent flying into the night sky by lighting an attached candle (see “A Birthday Fit for a King”).  We sent one up, watching it join the hundreds of thousands others that were being sent into the sky across the city.

Despite rumors to the contrary, the fireworks were not completely cancelled. Around 11pm, we watched the firework show that was originally set for midnight begin, from our safe distance. We spent the actual count down by a hotel with a large digital clock that clicked down to midnight, invited about 10 people over to our hotel for drinks (we had no cups, so we improvised, cutting water bottles in half, and poured Sang Som whisky and Coke into the bottom section), checked out a happening club, watched a fight and had some late night pad thai.

Magical Moment

One night near dusk, Lauren, Abby and I were walking around Abby’s school’s campus when a man on a bike slowly rolled up to a lamppost.  He reached for the pole, opened a box and flipped a switch.  Slowly, the florescent lamppost flickered on.  Behind him, a dozen other lampposts were lit and in front of him, they were all dark.  He rolled up to the next lamppost and flicked on that light as well. 

It was like a fairy tale.  The man in the moon.  The man who lights the lampposts.
 
Third Class Train to Bangkok

Not adequately planning ahead for the busy travel season, we were shocked to discover that only 3rd class seats were available for the 14-hour train ride back to Bangkok.  We didn’t have any other choices, so we forked over the $6.41 it cost for a seat on a hard bench.

I’m currently reading Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, and the dusty, non-air-conditioned seats surrounded by locals made the trip seem authentic and rugged.  The assorted Thai landscapes passed us by – rich suburbs, expanses of flooded farms, rural mountains and a few cities. 

Without A/C, the windows were quickly slid down and for the most part, we were provided a nice breeze – with only the occasional dust storm blown in.

(Lauren: My favorite part of this trip was discovering that the doors were left open and that passengers could stand on the stairs or even hang out while holding onto the steel grips on the sides of the door while whizzing past the country side. I chose the stairs as my seat to watch the sun go down over the passing rice paddies.)

When we reached the airport, though, we needed to wash up.  I went to the bathroom and noticed that I had gotten a great tan for having only spent a week in Thailand and no time on the beach.

But as I splashed water on my face, I watched as my “tan” ran off my face in streaks.  It was actually layers of dust covering my face and arms – and it would be at least another 24 hours before we would make it to a hotel in Mumbai, India.