I could've kicked sand in my own face...

Just before we leave Koh Samui behind, I've got one last post for you.

When he was planning the trip, Husband asked me if I'd heard any recommendations for resorts in Samui. Stupid as I am I didn't give it much thought and told him no... which was a real shame; if only I'd done a bit of homework my memory would have been jogged by the name of a hotel that HAD been recommended to me in the dim and distant past.

After a short walk on Chaweng Beach we came across it (and trespassed over it, while taking photos.) Honestly, I could've kicked sand in my own face.

Please look at these photos of the resort, The Library on Koh Samui and tell me - could I have found a more apt place?

The page numbers on the grass relate to the room numbers, index or content I think was the reception area and I can't recall what the bookmark one was.

Warning: Another lizardy-thing

This jumped out in front of me yesterday - nearly giving me a heart attack. I thought in that first second it was a snake. I'm not scared of snakes as a species but it strikes me as jolly sensible to avoid something that's poisonous or liable to squeeze me to death. Anyway, once I'd established it was marginally more scared of me than I was of it... I took some photos.

Since I haven't bought my reference book yet, Boonsong can you help identify this one please?

I spent the rest of the day jumping at leaves brushing my shoulders and frogs smaller than my thumbnail jumping in the dark. What a wuss.

Ka-plunk and Ka-pow

A couple of days ago I had my first Thai massage…ever. It was sort of by accident.

For those that don’t know a Thai massage is different from an oil massage and it’s because of this distinction that I’ve always done my best to avoid them. In Thai massage the person giving the massage moves your body around into different poses and exerts pressure or pulls muscles or pushes their elbows, finger into your muscles; hell, they may even walk on your back. You are stretched; your body might go ‘click’ and ‘clunk;’ it might hurt, it might be relaxing but it will probably be a mixture of both.

The reason that I have done my damnedest to avoid them is because of a seventeen-year relationship with physios, osteopaths and chiropractors. This connection began only a few months into my first pregnancy when my lower back went ‘kaplunk’ and produced all kinds of hideous pains. During pregnancy chemicals are sent around the body to loosen up joints, ligaments etc to facilitate birth. To someone with hyper mobile joints (me) this can be a problem: flibberty flobberty body parts (the technical term.) A physio at the maternity unit was my first port of call.

I love physios and osteopaths: I rate them highly. BUT, I’m nearly always in pain when I go to see them. So, I’m nervous of Thai massage on three counts: I associate being manipulated with said pain. Two, I’m afraid that they may not be as trained as they should be and what with my wibbly wobbly joints I might end up in pain after the session. And three I have an old shoulder injury and a present hip issue: Gosh, I really am a specimen of good health and fitness. Not.

So that’s how it came to be that Husband and I pottered up the road to a massage place (infinitely more affordable than in our hotel) for a Thai massage for him and foot massage for me. However because the foot massage only lasts for one hour she did a sort of Thai massage on me for the remaining thirty minutes.

I don’t think I can be an easy candidate for such things; I don’t switch off easily. I'm cautious that she’ll do something that will hurt and my brain goes careering off but that can be useful for all sorts of inspiration. But by the time I was turned over onto my back I’d totally lost the use of my arms and legs; they were leaden.

Pretty damn incredible it was.

Visitor

We have a little pet in our villa garden.

He (we'll assume) comes out to say hello whenever we get back to our villa or go out into the garden. He appears on the other side of the window to watch me write. He is very tolerant of my camera, posing for long periods until one of us gets bored.

I've labelled his picture 'lizardy thing' but does anyone know what he is? Iguana? Chameleon? I must need a new reference book.

The Green Tinged Witch from Wicked

I’ve seen a lot of dawn hours this week. I’ve lain in our gorgeous, palatial holiday bed, looking up at the fairy tale mosquito net thinking bad thoughts. I am not a good person without my sleep. It was unfair that my family should have to bring that woman on holiday. I stared long into the night at the green tinge cast by the air con control unit, cussing and thinking murderous thoughts. Poor Husband; what a risk he takes in sleeping next to me.

I thought I’d done really well with the jetlag the weekend I got back. My only remedy for this evil condition is to keep busy so I should have known that going on holiday immediately wouldn’t be good for it.

And it really wasn’t.

On Monday night and Tuesday night I spent three hours gazing around the villa. Wednesday night between midnight and three am I also endured a migraine. Eventually tormented by the smell of the mosquito netting (don’t ask, a hyper sensitive sense of smell appears to be something to do with migraine) I got up, paced about and then settled on a chair. Draped in a towel and a pink pashmina for warmth, I spent five hours blissfully asleep.

All Quiet on the Eastern Front

Sorry that it’s been so quiet here.

When I got back to Bangkok I had a friend to stay. She’d been working in Phuket for a month and came up to see us before transferring to Bali to meet her family. She was the very first person I called after Husband dropped me the ‘I’ve been offered a promotion in Bangkok’ bombshell. She was (and continues to be) a source of great wisdom about expat life. I met her at our kids’ primary school when she returned from many years living in SE Asia and we’ve been trying and failing to meet up in Bangkok since we got here.

As she made her way to Bali, so we were on our way to Koh Samui.

That’s where we are now. Husband’s colleague said ‘Two weeks in Samui? OMG; you’ll be so bored.” But we wanted a do nothing holiday… I’ve got ten books to read and my own novel to re-write. How can I get bored?

I had planned to pelt through my reading list but the mood took me to start rewriting so that’s what I’m doing in the mornings and reading with whatever time is left over. So far I’ve enjoyed reading/am reading:

• Dad's Life by Dave Hill

• Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby

• Turning The Tide by Christine Stovell

And I’m 9% through reordering my manuscript. Happily, there isn’t nearly as much mess as I’d anticipated.