Update #1

Bangkok

Our flight from SFO to Shanghai was pretty uneventful – steerage on China Eastern really isn't all that bad – although it was the hottest plane ride either of us had ever experienced. We also naïvely drank all of our water in the first couple of hours, resulting in a fairly parched flight, but we survived. The Chinese sensorship on a few of the movies we watched was mildly hilarious (they took out all mentions of god or homosexuality in The Grand Budapest Hotel, which seems like a big change), as was the translation on some of the entertainment system's offerings. 

On arrival in Shanghai, we were confused when the plane pulled up to what looked like a movie's representation of an airport after the apocalypse – totally dark, totally empty, surrounded by barbed wire and guard posts. It turns out the international terminal is under construction, so we were bussed to the airport to undergo the weirdest security check ever (they have restrictions on the size/type of external batteries you can bring in). Additionally, the main terminal is one of the weirdest either of us had ever seen; just Google it to see what I mean. Our layover wasn't long, though, and we ended up sitting and chatting with a couple of guys from Longmont/Boulder who were on their way back from snowboarding in Japan. Small world.

We got into Bangkok super late on Saturday night. We were totally impressed by the cab organization (queues everywhere are such a nice thing) and were lulled into a false sense of calm by the complete lack of traffic getting from BKK to Silom. When we got to our hotel, though, we found that although I had been in touch about how late we were getting in (it was about 1:30am) I had totally forgotten the date line and we didn't have a room booked until Sunday night. Oops. Fortunately they were able to put us up in another room, with promises of moving us to our suite (trés bougie) the next night, and we passed the f*ck out. 

We woke up Sunday morning very proud of ourselves for beating jetlag by not sleeping on the flight to Shanghai, had room service for breakfast (rice soup!) and headed out to explore. We checked out the Jim Thompson house, which was neat; in addition to all of the architecture/design stuff, they have all of my houseplants growing in the garden which made me really happy. We ended up wandering to the MBK Center after – a gigantic mall full of all of the sh*t you never thought you'd need. On a recommendation from the NYT, though, we got a snack at Mont Nom Sod; they make steamed/toasted bread slathered with coconut custard, and it's so much better than it sounds. After checking out all of the bizarre stalls in the center, we headed back to the hotel, ostensibly to chill out before going out for the night. That didn't happen. As it turns out, we hadn't beaten jetlag at all, and ended up sleeping the rest of the night. C'est la vie.

Monday we headed out early to check out the Grand Palace/Temple of the Emerald Buddha. On the way from the cab to the gate, though, we were hailed by a very friendly tuktuk driver who offered to take us on a temple tour first, and took him up on it. We saw the Golden Mount, the Sleeping/Reclining Buddha, the Sitting Buddha, the Lucky Buddha... it seems like every street had a different opportunity for Buddhists to tithe. Pretty wild. When we finally made it back to the Grand Palace, along with what may have been an entire province of China, we were so hot and so overwhelmed by the crowd that we did a speed-tour of the whole thing and headed out. It's amazing, though, and if somehow you could get a private tour I'm pretty sure you could spend all day looking at the buildings alone.

That night we had dinner at Gaa, in the Embassy district. Gaa is the sister restaurant to Gaggan (Pellegrino's best restaurant in Asia); we initially had a reservation at Gaggan and decided to go to Gaa instead after reading a few reviews. It's modern Indian-meets-other-food, but while the food was great what stood out the most was the wine pairing. It was absolutely the most interesting pairing I've ever experienced – a few wines I'd never even heard of paired with incredibly complex dishes, and somehow they each complemented and/or completed the dish. There quite literally wasn't a bad one among them (highlights: Marlborough Pinot, a house-made lychee sake). 

On Tuesday morning, I suggested that we "take a walk" around Lumpini Park, right across from our hotel, and end up at this open-air food court we'd passed on Sunday. Lumpini is described as Bangkok's Central Park, so that seemed like a good idea. Except that it was 92º and over 30% humidity, and it ended up being a 90 minute walk. Andy says I am now not allowed to suggest we "just walk" anywhere ever again, and my blistered feet agree. Lesson learned. The kicker was that the market had been closed down on Monday [sad trumpet noise].

Tuesday night's dinner was at bo.lan, which we found out about through Netflix's Chef's Table. The chef, Bo Songvisava, and her husband Dylan Jones, met while working for Thai food-god David Thompson, and are committed to saving traditional Thai cooking with elevated ingredients; it's kind of like Sean Brock's seed project and the farm-to-table movement had a Thai baby. The experience was unbelievable: on arrival, you're ushered into a lounge for pre-dinner drinks and snacks (boiled peanuts, banana chips, and some kind of cracker) while you look over the menu to pick between two tasting menus. The restaurant is in what seems to be an old house down an alley off of Sukhumvit, and it's gorgeous. Bo served us our cocktails (no big deal). When you've picked your meal, you're ushered into the kitchen for the first bite – a heritage rice topped with a young coconut powder – served by Dylan, and finished with a mangosteen. It was the first time either of us had eaten a mangosteen, and it's delightful. The rest of the dinner (so many courses) was traditional Thai in some kind of foodie presentation, including a green papaya salad so hot Andy got the hiccups and the best prawn jungle curry I've ever had. Highly recommend, but go earlier than our 9pm reservation – we were both walking dead by the time we wrapped up around midnight.

We had to check out on Wednesday, so we spent the morning being lazy and packing up. The hotel concierge recommended we have lunch at the Silom Complex, which was basically another mall on steroids; we ended up finding an awesome Japanese restaurant, and spent some more time wandering around checking out all of the interesting shops. When the time came we got our bags and headed to Don Mueng (the oldest operating airport in Asia!) via the very modern subway and the very traditional rail line. I don't know that either of us expected an open-air train, but it was kind of an antiquated delight, with hawkers wandering up the car every few minutes to sell snacks and drinks. The nice lady we sat with thought our enthusiasm was hilarious.

Krabi — Ao Nang

We got to Krabi last night. We're staying in Ao Nang, which it turns out is like a weird Thai version of Miami beach – tons of touristy stuff, not a ton of culture. Outside of the strip, though, the area is beautiful – the view from our hotel is absolutely amazing, looking out on this massive limestone cliff. Our hotel is a little bizarre, but we have a nice big room and there are lizards all over the place, which makes Andy really happy. They also have a pair of the most beautiful macaws I've ever seen, and the largest koi ever. So that's neat. We spent today hanging at the pool, exploring Ao Nang, and getting the most amazing massages ever of all time. Tomorrow we have an island tour all day, including the Phi Phi islands and the beach made famous by the movie The Beach, although given this article I doubt that's still part of the itinerary.

We're only in Krabi until Saturday evening, then off to Chiang Mai. 

Biggest takeaways so far:

• Holy balls this place is hot

• Everyone is insanely nice

• The plants are incredible

• It's incredibly difficult not to get dehydrated when

  • It's this unbelievably hot

  • You can't drink the tap water

I'm sorry for the dearth of pictures; neither of us is very good at remembering to take any. We're having a great time, though! 

Update #2

Krabi — Ao Nang, Pt. 2

First, an additional note on the massages we got in Ao Nang. Like I said, the best massages ever of all time — some weird combination of oil (“normal”) and Thai massage. As Andy defined it, though, Thai massage is basically finding something that hurts and poking it really hard, repeatedly. He was bruised the next day, but both of us had considerably improved posture for at least two days after. That seems like a win.

Our second day in Ao Nang we took a speedboat tour of Ko Phi Phi, Ko Phi Phi Lee, and Bamboo Island. We were on a speedboat with about 20 other people all under 40; we counted at least 8 languages among the group, which was pretty neat. We had originally considered staying on Phi Phi, but a plane, to a taxi, to a boat seemed like a lot, so it was pretty neat to check it out anyway. Bamboo Island, although crowded, was beautiful — it’s crazy to see water that color when you don’t live near an ocean. We piddled around for an hour or so and headed to a random bay off of Phi Phi to snorkel. Snorkeling was neat: the reefs aren’t crazy colorful, but there’s all kinds of marine life, including these cheeky little stripey fish that sit right up at the surface and come so close it seems like you could pet them. You can’t; I tried repeatedly. I did see a few pike (or something like it), angel fish, urchins, and a little shark. The rest of the day included Maya Beach (the one from The Beach I said I didn’t think we’d make it to) where we snorkeled but didn’t go on land; Viking Cave, so named for some super old cave paintings of Viking ships; Monkey Beach, where the monkeys live (they own that beach); and Phi Phi proper. Suffice it to say it was amazing – we both came out sunburned (yes, we put on sunscreen. Yes, we reapplied. Yes, it was a high enough SPF.) but so, so happy.

On arrival back at our weird hotel we hung by the pool, because why not. At some point, the macaws (previously mentioned for being unbelievably beautiful) starting squawking — like, screaming. It turns out a dragon — a giant lizard, GIANT — lives nearby and likes to try to eat them, so they’ve become their own security system. The dude manning the pool bar went out with some rocks to scare it away; I’ve never seen a lizard that big, or seen one run so fast. When the drama subsided, the bird-keepers decided the birds were due for a walkabout. (A note on the bird-keepers: they treat these birds like dogs. For real. It’s amazing.) They let both birds out, untethered, and they flew circles around the hotel for a solid five minutes. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. When time was up, the keepers yelled their names and they came right back in. And then I got to hold one. Between that, seeing baby monkeys, and trying to pet fish, I was a happy camper. For dinner later that night we trekked across town to a seafood restaurant recommended as “somewhere Thai people actually eat” and while underwhelmed, the seafood was super fresh. We ordered crab and it came cut up in a way neither of us could figure out how to tackle, but it was an experience nevertheless.

Oh. Also, we found Belgian beer at a German restaurant. So that was cool.

Chiang Mai

We arrived in Chiang Mai late Saturday evening, and were floored by our hotel. In reality, the AESTAS (Bangkok) was a business hotel, and the Paradise (Ao Nang) was pretty dumpy if in a great location. The Na Nirand Romantic Boutique Hotel (actual full name, which sounds like a Wes Anderson movie) is a high-end tourist hotel. Knowing we were in Chiang Mai the shortest time of anywhere, this was our splurge, but we got so much more than we bargained for.

To begin with, the porters wear full-on colonial uniforms. Complete with knee socks. It’s both a little bit horrifying and incredibly endearing (also, they’re all unbelievably nice). It also smells amazing — I think it’s plumeria, and it’s intoxicating. (Even the bill we received on checking out, and the visas for Vietnam they printed for us, smell amazing; the girl who checked us in for our flight to Ho Chi Minh loved it.) We were greeted at reception by Kunh (now our buddy) with a glass of cold tea and a cold towel. He pulled out a map and highlighted where we were; where the Saturday, Sunday, and Night markets were; and bars and restaurants he’d recommend. He then walked us through the resort. Like, the whole thing. What time the restaurant opens/closes; happy hour at the bar; what time the pool opens and when the pool bar is set up; spa services; the history of the 120-year-old banyan tree at the end of the yard. Our room is on the first-floor, pool-side, with a cute porch. It also smelled like joy when we walked in (seriously, even the linens smell better than they have any right to). It also has, by far, the softest bed we’ve had on this trip — that isn’t saying much, and it still isn’t American-level cushy, but holy cheese was it appreciated.

Sunday morning we went to the hotel breakfast which, like most places here, is included in your room fee. HOLY BALLS. This was unlike any breakfast either of us has ever seen. There was a full Chinese spread, including a noodle bar; a full American spread, including eggs, toast, and sausage; and a Continental spread, including cheese, pastries, and god knows what else. Oh, also, the restaurant is beautiful. The hotel is right on the Ping river and we watched fishermen, rowers, and any number of waterfowl kick it as we drank our coffee.

The pool was too good to pass up, so we spent the day lounging and reading. A side note here: I bought Bad Blood, by John Carreyrou, on the way to Chiang Mai. Andy and I have since both finished it — neither of us could put it down. It’s so good, and Elizabeth Holmes (and Sunny Balwani) is/are monster(s). 13/10 would highly recommend. Sunday evening we headed to the Old City for the Sunday market and temple-touring. In Chiang Mai, they basically shut the entire walled city down on Sundays for this market. It’s miles (literally) of stalls of everything from durian and sticky rice to paper lanterns to fine art to clothing. Honestly, it’s pretty overwhelming in its sheer scale and the number of people it attracts, but it’s also incredible. The added bonus is that by virtue of checking out the market you also end up seeing some of the city’s coolest temples, one of which is 90% gold and another of which is amazing Thai woodwork. We should have taken pictures, but we’re terrible at things.

We ended up buying a bunch of gifties and two amazing paintings by a local artist. We also got green papaya salad from a sassy lady who’s been selling there for 18 years from the same intersection. She was a peach, and couldn’t stop laughing at the idea that I’ve made papaya salad at home. It was a win.

Monday was for elephants.

We booked a short day tour with Elephant Jungle Sanctuary (EJS), a local organization with 9 camps throughout Chiang Mai (plus 3 in Phuket and one in Pattaya). The organization is an incredibly humane rescue organization that largely operates by hiring Asian elephant owners to care for their (previously abused) animals in the EJS camps. On Monday morning, we were picked up and driven about 90 minutes into the hills of Chiang Mai to Camp 6, where we got to feed, hang out with, and mud bath/bathe about a dozen elephants ranging from 7-40+ years old. It was incredible. As it turns out, elephants really like bananas, and if you say “bon bon!” these elephants will open their months so you can just drop a banana in. We spent the most time with a 9-year-old female I named Eleanor (her handler spoke no English and couldn’t tell me her name) who consumed more grass in the time we were with her than I’ve walked through in my life. The way that they separate the leaves (desirable) from the shoots (gross) is pretty wild — their trunks are unbelievably dextrous. After feeding them about 1,000 bananas and grass, we changed into swim suits and took the elephants who wanted to go down to the mud bath the camp has set up (mud is like lotion + sunscreen for elephants), where we watched Eleanor roll around like a puppy in the mud, then wash off in a stream. In the video below, I’m getting a mud-tattoo from one of the guys who worked there; he decided I needed more elephant-themed art. They have such incredibly strong personalities, and they’re so idiosyncratic — we’re talking about animals that weigh 2-4 tons but got freaked out over a dog barking. I didn’t want to leave, and can’t say enough good things about the program and the employees with whom we interacted.

After kicking it at the pool for the afternoon, we headed out to the Night Bazaar, just outside of the Old City. Being that it was mostly the same as the Sunday market, albeit with more high-end stuff, we decided to wander away for a cocktail. The first Google result for “cocktail bar near me” was about a 7-minute walk, so we headed in that direction. Seeing it was a dump, we headed into an alley that looked to be full of bars, and full of people. It was hooker alley. Literally. Every bar was a pickup spot for more prostitutes than I ever thought I’d see in one place. On arrival, one woman catcalled us (me, specifically — not Andy) so we made our way to the nearest exit and ended up grabbing a drink at Ben Cocktail Bar — basically a bar counter with one bartender, but serving more than 100 drinks (all listed alphabetically, including a“Nock Out” in the K’s section, incidentally).

Chiang Mai has been our favorite city so far, and we definitely didn’t want to leave. If given the chance again, we’ll skip Bangkok altogether and hang out here; it’s cooler, calmer, and more accessible but with (most of) the culture we wanted to experience. But it’s amazing to have seen both options, and we’re excited to head to Vietnam. Next stop: Ho Chi Minh.

P.S. A few things I wish someone had told me about Thailand:

• Butt guns: Apparently, most of Thailand is on septic tanks, so you’re not supposed to flush anything but waste. Including toilet paper. Instead, nearly every toilet has a “bum gun” — basically the hose from a kitchen sink, miniaturized. Where they don’t even have that (the islands off of Krabi, rural Chiang Mai) they instead have a bucket + a spigot and some kind of cup. It never gets comfortable.

• Asian beds aren’t soft. Like, at all. Even the mattress toppers aren’t like what we’d expect in the US.

• Durian is everywhere and it smells awful.

• Tipping is not a thing — there’s a service charge most places. In any number of places, trying to tip is just weird.

• The red chilis are the spicy ones. The smaller, the hotter. Don’t eat the tiny red chilis whole. Do. Not.

Update #3

Ho Chi Minh (Saigon)

We arrived in Saigon on Tuesday evening (VietJet flights are interesting). Having secured our visa approval and having it printed on Na Nirand’s delighfully scented paper, I thought we were set to go through immigration. I was wrong. For starters, we had to re-complete the forms I had already submitted for the visa. No big deal. We also needed $50 US to pay for the visas. Also no big deal. Except that there are no ATMs on the inside of immigration. I apologized to the nice uniformed lady who took our paperwork and passports, and she sighed. Apparently this is a thing that happens a lot. She directed us toward the side of the booth and told us to wait.

About 10 minutes later, and joined by three other foreign visitors, we had reached critical mass, so she directed us to the ATMs outside of the secure area. Where we went. Without escort. (In fairness, she had our passports, so I guess it wasn’t like we’d take off…) ATMs found, we all tried to get cash. One machine refused to dispense cash. Another ate someone’s card (she got it back eventually). I finally had luck with the third and we paid our way out of the airport.

We were told before we went that traffic in Saigon is insane, and it wasn’t an overstatement. The ride from the airport to the hotel, about 30 minutes, was one of the most stressful car rides either of us has ever experienced — Andy almost had an aneurism. There aren’t many private cars in the city; instead, almost everyone has a scooter. I think most of the 150cc scooters made in the world must be in Saigon. Our hotel was past a traffic circle, which was like watching schools of fish navigate — the fact that no one collided seems to be the result of highly-developed spacial awareness and timing that doesn’t exist in the US. As sufficiently paranoid motorcycle riders who assume anyone on four wheels is out to get anyone on two wheels, it was harrowing. On the bright side, everyone wears a helmet.

Our hotel, Nikko, was like walking into a Zen temple after that nightmare. It’s contemporary and quiet, and they have a live pianist and cellist in the lounge every night. We met an American a few nights later who put it this way: “There are cooler places to stay in Saigon, and newer places to stay, but you pick Nikko because the service is the best.” He was right. The staff is friendly and helpful, and they leave gourmet chocolates on your bed with turndown service. Also, they have Japanese toilet seats.

A note now about Japanese toilet seats (washlets). Toto is the undisputed leader in Japanese toilets, and has been making their fancy seats since the 1980s. Today, over 70% of Japanese toilets are of the modern bidet variety, meaning that they clean your hiney for you (no more butt guns!). The fanciest ones — most of Toto’s and the ones at Nikko — also heat both the seat and the water, and dry you off at the end. You can also get varieties that freshen the air, glow, and talk to you, but the point here is about how much toilet paper these things save. If you use a bidet with a dryer, you literally need no toilet paper. With a recent study that found the average American uses 3 rolls per week, think about how much we’d save in money and natural resources. Also, your butt honestly deserves one of these things. Andy is requiring one (or more) in our new house he’s so enamored. Sidebar concluded.

After checking into our hotel and getting settled, we thought we’d go explore and find dinner in the surrounding area. While walking out, one of the doormen asked if we needed a cab, and gave us crazy eyes when we said we wanted to walk. That should’ve been a clear indication of what we were getting into. Remember that traffic circle I mentioned? Picture a five-lane highway of scooters, and then try to walk across it. Or, like sane people, don’t. (In fairness, we later found out that you can basically just walk into traffic and those same spacial superpowers I mentioned earlier means no one will hit you, but we weren’t ready for that yet.) Our experiment failed, we opted a restaurant on our side of the street instead and had grilled beef wrapped in betel leaf (bò lá lốt).

On Wednesday, we explored the weird mall next to the hotel (seriously, visiting malls in Asia is my new favorite thing) and then adventured to what Google labels Independence Palace. When we told the doorman at the hotel that’s where we wanted to go, he just stared at me. I repeated myself. Then I said that we wanted to go to to the Reunification Palace, and he called us a taxi. It’s a funny thing about Saigon — the government says one thing and the locals say something completely different.

This is a good time to explain, for the uninitiated, the Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City paradox. Saigon was the name of the Vietnamese capitol before the American War, as they call it. When the North won, they renamed it after their Prime Minister (and Communist Party hero) Ho Chi Minh, now “Uncle Ho” to the locals. As our tour guide explained later, they call it Saigon for what it evokes — Saigon is the traditional Vietnam, with culture and history, while Ho Chi Minh is the new, modern, global city. To be clear, either is fine.

The Reunification Palace is unbelievably cool, though, as an example of beautifully preserved modernist architecture. The building, inaugurated in 1966, was designed to combine modernist design and Asian influence; as a result, the building, when viewed from different angles, shows various Chinese characters. The palace is theoretically still used for big meetings of State today, but for us the tour served to tell a part of the Vietnam War we never would have heard at home. Additionally, there’s a replica of a war-era Lockheed jet on the grounds with hilarious instructions and disclaimers.

For dinner Wednesday we went to Cục Gạch Quán, a beautiful Vietnamese restaurant built around an interior courtyard with a koi pond. It is also home to the largest menu I’ve ever seen: what felt like 50 pages, including an entire page of different types of rice. Luckily, our server was kind enough to essentially order for us — caramelized pork, soft shell crab, egg rolls, and Chinese broccoli (he over-ordered). It was amazing, and we went home very happy. We stopped for an after-dinner drink at the hotel bar, where we had already befriended the bartender, and spent a few hours talking to an expat we met who splits his time between Connecticut (NYC) and Saigon after working in Asia for a couple of decades. He ended up marrying a Vietnamese woman a few years back, and while he ultimately said we’d never really get Saigon in three-ish days and would just have to come back, it was interesting to get an interloper’s perspective.

On Thursday I finally convinced Andy to go on a scooter tour — again, as educated motorcyclists, the idea of getting on a bike/scooter without a bunch of protection and a full-face helmet seems like a bad idea (he maintains that it was the most unsafe decision we’ve ever made). We lucked out and got a private tour, and our drivers picked us up at the hotel. After putting on the surgical masks they gave us for pollution, the guys scooted us to lunch at the company’s home base to meet our guide, Alina. She was alarmed as I climbed on the scooter after lunch in a sleeveless shirt — did I need a scarf or a jacket? Vietnam (and most of Asia, for that matter) prizes light skin, so the fact that I would willingly expose myself to the sun was shocking. She then put on a hooded sweatshirt that covered her hands, sunglasses, and a mask — no sunlight could possibly reach her.

Over the next 4+ hours, we learned a ton about Saigon, and Vietnamese culture generally: the markets; when and how business is done; aspects of the historical conflict between North and South Vietnam; how the city is developing; and the different types of Buddhism and what that looks like — the reason there are gold temples all over Thailand and almost none in Vietnam. At the flower market, we met a woman who’s been making Cambodian desserts for 25 years: shaved ice, topped with coconut milk and various toppings, including pandan leaf jelly, mung beans, and a coconut custard baked inside a pumpkin. It’s the perfect treat in 88º weather. We also saw the monument to the Buddhist monk Thich Quang Duc, who burned himself to death in 1963 (an incredibly interesting piece of propaganda); the Chinese district of the city, where we drank some weird tea for “energy” at a Chinese pharmacy; a coffee shop where bird owners bring their pets to socialize; the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas; and “Little Paris”, where Saigon’s Notre Dame and Eiffel-designed train station still stand.

Alina also clued us in on a few more government-vs-reality discrepancies. While official records say that Saigon’s population is somewhere in the 8.5-9 million people range, it’s actually estimated to be closer to 15 million, with people moving in from the outer provinces all the time. Additionally, though Wikipedia reports that 73% of the population is irreligious (per government stats), local wisdom says 70% is actually Buddhist, another 20% Muslim, and the remaining 10% mixed folk religion. The government pushes a lot of propaganda, and while their message seems accepted by most of the world, the locals just kind of ignore it. Alina’s response to my asking about the presence of propaganda in everyday life was an eye roll.

Bottom line: Risk your life. The scooter tour is worth it.

We had dinner Thursday night at The Temple Club, a restaurant hidden down a hallway on the second floor of a beautiful Colonial building. We had the duck with orange, a house specialty that was distinctly more smoke than orange, but still delicious; chicken with chilis and lemongrass; and thousand miles vegetable, one of the weirdest-looking veggies I’ve ever eaten. I think we were there a little later than they would have liked (we honestly never figured out when the appropriate time for dinner was), but it wasn’t a bad experience.

Before we left on Friday we finally went to breakfast at the hotel — I missed the part where that was an option — and saw the biggest spread of any of the hotel breakfasts of our trip. Seriously, they had everything. Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, French, American… it was unreal and honestly overwhelming. We headed back to Bangkok (again, VietJet is just kind of funny) with every intention of using our 12-hr. layover to explore Chinatown. Then we walked outside.

If it was hot when we started in Bangkok, that day felt like actually being in Hell. It was 92º and 72% humidity (I’m not even exaggerating, it got to 81% later). As lame as it sounds, we passed the time at Suvarnabhumi instead, reading and poking around the shops. Getting on our plane to Bangkok was its own special nightmare (China Eastern, while not awful, isn’t awesome), but the true standout of the trip back was during our layover in Shanghai.

Our flight from Bangkok to Shanghai (about 5 hrs) left at 1:55am. This means that by the time we got on the plane we had already had a fairly long day and, as might’ve been expected, we promptly passed out for the majority of it. That was all well and good, except for the fact that we were (or I was) super groggy when we landed, and pretty disoriented. The point being that I think it’s totally reasonable that I left my passport on the plane. But then our layover was fine and we got home and sunshine and rainbows.

Wait, did that not escape you? Yes. I left my passport on a plane. In China. Oops.

Let’s call that the most harrowing couple of hours of the trip (I’d gladly take the scooter). I realized as soon as we got to the terminal, and found a (uniformed) official to report it to. He basically rolled his eyes and radioed it in, then told us to sit down. We didn’t hear anything else for another 90 minutes, despite asking a couple of times for updates — they just told us to sit down. Eventually, another guy showed up, confirmed my identity and, quite jovially, told us to “get outta here!” Honestly, it was a little anti-climactic, but whatever.

The rest of the travel was uneventful, except for the fact that by the time we landed in Denver we’d been traveling for 48 hours. It was the best shower I’ve ever had.

. . .

Thank you, again, to everyone who made this incredible trip possible; from contributions to the honeymoon fund, to dog sitting, to recommendations on where to go, and general excitement and support. It was an unbelievable adventure, and we’re both so glad we went; it’s given us the push we needed to go on more adventures, and we’re already talking about our next trip.

xoxo