3/23 - May Our Souls Follow Closely Behind, by Aubrie
Back in Bangkok. The street noise is deafening, there are all those strange smells that creep out in the heat, and with current humidity levels, Weather.com tells me that the city feels like 116 degrees fahreheit, or 46.6 degrees celsius. It's good to be back, although the stress of traveling in Asia for 3 months is testing our nerves. Like William Gibson says, when we fly, it takes several days for our souls to reenter our bodies. The physical realities of Aubrie and Gabriel have made it here, have checked into the New Empire Hotel in Chinatown, have been walking along Si Lom road preparing for our departure to Ko Samet--but our ether is somewhere between London's Gatwick airport and Bangkok's Don Muang airport. Of course, since we flew Emirates Airlines via Dubai, our souls could very well be riding camels through the desert, or doing some last minute duty-free shopping. I would be willing to wager that Gabriel's ether is smoking a double apple narguileh.
About the New Empire Hotel: it sits in the center of Chinatown, and is a good deal at 700 baht a night, about $19. For all you Murakami readers, the hotel is a perfect replica of the Dolphin Hotel, which features prominently in his novels "A Wild Sheep Chase" and "Dance Dance Dance." So the New Empire Hotel doesn't feel like a hotel at all, actually--more like a tiny pocket of the city where time has stopped, a whole other dimension. Sure, there is a front desk with receptionists. A bell boy even carried our bags up to our room. But once you step out of the elevator, the lighting is dim, the hallway is slightly curved, there are endless numbers of rooms and doors and yet it seems like no one else could possibly be staying there. It's eerily quiet. When you shut the door to your room, you could be anywhere. There are no distinguishing features whatsoever. There is a place where a mini-bar and fridge should be, but like the cheap-end models of certain cars, the space is empty. There is a hot-pot, but no tea or coffee to make in it in sight. There are desk drawers, but no phone book and no (gasp!) Bible.
Tomorrow we are heading to the island of Ko Samet, off Thailand's East coast. It takes about 3 hours by bus, and then you must take a ferry to the island itself. We'll be staying in a hut on the beach, doing nothing much until we head back to Bangkok (again) for our flights to Japan. Gabriel informs me that although Ko Samet was declared a national park, it's known to have a large litter problem, and since Gabriel gets more and more concerned with enviromental issues as the trip goes on (and justifiably so), he may choose to stay on the island and forge an anti-litter campaign.
Gabriel apologizes for his absence of posts over the last week or so. While we were working on a friend's film in Ireland, internet access was scarce, if even available. The tiny town of Ballydehob, in West Cork, had little in it but petrol stations and potatoes, and of course a string of Irish pubs. In seriousness, Gabriel and I both found the brief trip to Ireland refreshing and grounding. I had been to Ireland once before, on a high school EF tour when I was 17. Gabriel had not, however. Being there a second time made me fall in love with it all the more, and since I'm going to be applying for Irish citizenship when I return to NY, I've had the idea to buy an old farmhouse somewhere in Ireland and restore it, with the help of my father, of course. Now all I have to do is find a job, start paying off my school loans, and become one of those people who exists in the real world, whatever that is.
Back to the subject of this trip being grounding, with a shout-out to Michelle F., since she enjoys a good emotional discussion: I find it strange but somehow appropriate that such a whirlwind trip through Southeast Asia should make me feel more grounded. I think Gabriel would agree on this point as well. It's as if my "self" has acquired a greater gravity, in the physical sense. Like a table with a wobbly leg or two, as you place more things on its surface and distribute the weight evenly to all four corners, it becomes more steady. But more on this later.
About the New Empire Hotel: it sits in the center of Chinatown, and is a good deal at 700 baht a night, about $19. For all you Murakami readers, the hotel is a perfect replica of the Dolphin Hotel, which features prominently in his novels "A Wild Sheep Chase" and "Dance Dance Dance." So the New Empire Hotel doesn't feel like a hotel at all, actually--more like a tiny pocket of the city where time has stopped, a whole other dimension. Sure, there is a front desk with receptionists. A bell boy even carried our bags up to our room. But once you step out of the elevator, the lighting is dim, the hallway is slightly curved, there are endless numbers of rooms and doors and yet it seems like no one else could possibly be staying there. It's eerily quiet. When you shut the door to your room, you could be anywhere. There are no distinguishing features whatsoever. There is a place where a mini-bar and fridge should be, but like the cheap-end models of certain cars, the space is empty. There is a hot-pot, but no tea or coffee to make in it in sight. There are desk drawers, but no phone book and no (gasp!) Bible.
Tomorrow we are heading to the island of Ko Samet, off Thailand's East coast. It takes about 3 hours by bus, and then you must take a ferry to the island itself. We'll be staying in a hut on the beach, doing nothing much until we head back to Bangkok (again) for our flights to Japan. Gabriel informs me that although Ko Samet was declared a national park, it's known to have a large litter problem, and since Gabriel gets more and more concerned with enviromental issues as the trip goes on (and justifiably so), he may choose to stay on the island and forge an anti-litter campaign.
Gabriel apologizes for his absence of posts over the last week or so. While we were working on a friend's film in Ireland, internet access was scarce, if even available. The tiny town of Ballydehob, in West Cork, had little in it but petrol stations and potatoes, and of course a string of Irish pubs. In seriousness, Gabriel and I both found the brief trip to Ireland refreshing and grounding. I had been to Ireland once before, on a high school EF tour when I was 17. Gabriel had not, however. Being there a second time made me fall in love with it all the more, and since I'm going to be applying for Irish citizenship when I return to NY, I've had the idea to buy an old farmhouse somewhere in Ireland and restore it, with the help of my father, of course. Now all I have to do is find a job, start paying off my school loans, and become one of those people who exists in the real world, whatever that is.
Back to the subject of this trip being grounding, with a shout-out to Michelle F., since she enjoys a good emotional discussion: I find it strange but somehow appropriate that such a whirlwind trip through Southeast Asia should make me feel more grounded. I think Gabriel would agree on this point as well. It's as if my "self" has acquired a greater gravity, in the physical sense. Like a table with a wobbly leg or two, as you place more things on its surface and distribute the weight evenly to all four corners, it becomes more steady. But more on this later.


2 Comments:
Hey A and G,
Sounds like you are becoming weary travelers, it is getting difficult to keep track of you lately. I'm very happy to hear you are going to take your father with you to Ireland!!!! Pookie says hello! She is now big and bad. I hope you catch up with your souls before you return to the real world. Happy easter, Love....mom
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