D Travels 'Round

Under the sea

I sit on the long tail boat, snorkel gear in hand, strapped into a grimy orange life vest. I turn the gear over in my hands, looking out onto the serene blue water and the jungle-covered mountains poking from its depths.

Around me, other long tail boats have dropped anchor, too, and their passengers eagerly jump into the cooling water on the hot Koh Samui morning.

They all look like they have having a blast.

As the other girls on my boat begin to drop into the water, I linger aboard, letting myself feel the gentle effects of the rocking from the water ripples below.

Get in the water, D.

I’ve snorkeled once before. Well, not really snorkeled. I tried to snorkel. About 12 years ago. In the Florida Keys. Armed with a kiddie snorkel set, my friend and I jumped into the crystal clear water and dunked our heads under. But, I freaked. Panicked. Couldn’t get my breathing right, and when water flooded the goggles, I threw my arms up in the air and decided to not risk my flesh being eaten by the evil-teethed barracuda and opted for the sanctuary of sand instead.

“What’s in the water here?” I had asked Martin, the general manager of Amari, my first night on the island. “Are there any, you know, stinging or biting things I should know about?”

In Croatia, it’s the sea urchin. In America, it’s the bastard jelly fish. Always something to give me a reason to not get into the salt water and stick to the safe confines of the chemically-treated pool instead.

“Nope, nothing really,” he assures me. “Just these little black and yellow fish that are fed bread so they swim up to you. Occasionally, they may nip at you if you don’t have any, but that’s it.”

Now, perched above the water, I see those little black and yellow fish. They swarm like the fish in the old movie “Pirhana,” devouring the soft bread before it breaks into fluffy, water-soaked pieces.

I don’t want them touching me.

I survey my surroundings. It’s paradise, and I’m letting some fear — although I don’t even know what I am afraid of — to keep my on board the long tail instead of experiencing what I came to the island to experience — the water.

Do it, D. Just do it, you chicken shit.

I gather my courage and being to climb down the ladder and dip my foot into the water. I look down … nothing really in the water to eat me.

Then, I’m in. The water rushing over my swimsuit clad body.

Snorkeling in Samui, Thailand

I stick the breathing part of the snorkel in my mouth and bite down on it, hard.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Holy shit. I’m doing it.

Carefully, I being to let my head go under the water. I blink my eyes a few times as it hits me I am breathing under water. I. Am. Snorkeling. I did it. I want to grab onto one of the other girls and wildly gesture to show her I am doing it, but no one is around. Instead, I channel the excitement and look at a world I normally wouldn’t see.

Around me, those gorgeous little black and yellow fish swim by, their bodies moving so smoothly. The dusty pink coral rests below my feet.

It really is another world. And, I cannot believe I actually wasn’t going to try it. This snorkeling thing? It isn’t so bad.

I proceed to swim around for about 10 minutes, dunking my head under as my body floats on the surface, looking wide-eyed at the remarkable life in the water below.

“Eel!” One of the girls yells.

“What? Where?” I respond, happy I am nowhere near where she is investigating.

“Just over there,” she says, pointing even further away from me.

Thank god.

But, then I start to think about the eel and its slithering about.

Yeah, it’s time to get out.

I climb back aboard the boat and smile. Snorkeling? Done.

Rejuvenation at Breeze Spa

The Breeze Spa at Koh Samui's Amari

Joy, my massage therapist, rolls the hot rocks gently over the back of my legs, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

I’m laying, face down, staring at a bowl full of flowers, breathing the aromatic scent of lavendar and other essential oils, as she slowly works the stones into my muscles, using them as a replacement for the kneading her hands would normally do.

Amari's Breeze Spa

Deciding to try the hot stone massage was easy. The day before my appointment at Amari’s Breeze Spa, I took a few minutes to sip a sugar-rimmed tropical drink, sit with a spa consultant and fill out a quick form to narrow down what treatment would be best for me.

After less than five minutes, it is decided: I want to relax (naturally, I’m on vacation) and come away from my treatment feeling rejuvenated. She gave me two choices for a massage, and I opted for this one.

Unwinding at Amari's Breeze Spa on Koh Samui

As an expat living in Thailand, I get massages all of the time. I’m not exaggerating. During lunch breaks at the office, I’m known to skip lunch and head to a local massage joint to get an hour-long head, neck, back, shoulder and arm pit stop. At night, you can find me at the open-air massage shop on Loi Kroh. I live for these massages.

Breeze isn’t like these though, it is a true spa versus a place where you go and lie down on a mat and put your head on a pillow.

As relaxing music fills the dimly lit room, I let myself go. I clear my mind of everything — elephants, Chiang Mai, America, you name it — and I give in to the overwhelming calm that begins to envelop my body.

The massage isn’t all hot stone. A good portion of it utilizes just Joy’s powerful hands.

Towards the end of my treatment, the stones go away and she begins to work on my head. Applying just enough pressure, she provides the best head massage I have ever gotten. To say it is the crowning glory of my treatment is an understatement. It is perfection.

At the end of the treatment, I head back down to the reception area of the spa and am handed some hot water lilly tea and a marshmallow dipped in chocolate and covered in coconut.

A sweet ending to an even sweeter treatment.

Editor’s Note: My time stay was courtesy of Amari Palm Reef, however all opinions are my own. If you have questions regarding this, please read my disclosure policy.

Tips on being an expat in Chiang Mai

The chill city of Chiang Mai, Thailand

One year ago today, after an epic road trip across America, I embarked on my latest chapter of my life — becoming an expat and living in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

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This gorgeous and relaxing town in northern Thailand is a hot spot for digital nomads, largely because of the inexpensive lifestyle that can be achieved here.

People who come here either love it or hate it. Me? I didn’t come to Chiang Mai to be a backpacker or a digital nomad, I came for my position with Save Elephant Foundation. It wasn’t the city that enticed me, it was the elephants.

I remember my first real night living in Chiang Mai. I had just returned from visiting Elephant Nature Park for the first time in almost a year. Alone, and knowing no one, I sat down at a local restaurant. Within minutes, I was under fire from the local older men in the area.

“Who are you?”

“Where are you from?”

“What are you doing here?”

At first I was really intimidated, but I quickly realized, these folks weren’t out to get me, they were curious. I was the new girl on the block, and I held as much intrigue for them as they did for me. Sure, the new friendships was an unlikely match — I can’t think of anyone over 60 in my old life who I would count as a friend — but it worked.

I still wasn’t charmed by the city … any relationship takes time and patience and a mutual understanding. Even as it relates to the non-human kind.

Now, a year later, yes, I have fallen head-over-heels with Chiang Mai and being an expat. But, life as an expat in Chiang Mai definitely can teach you plenty of lessons, as well as have its challenges. And moments of magic.

Finding a place to live is easy (as)

The view from the roof of the old city and Chiang Mai Gate

Within a day, I had a place to live when I arrived to Chiang Mai. Yes, it is that easy. There are plenty of pages on Facebook dedicated to Chiang Mai and a simple post within a forum, or a search of documents, can take you to apartment listings.

Just by where I used to live, there are three Western-style apartments complete with serviced rooms. They tend to be more pricey than Thai-style (think no AC, no TV), but regardless of your budget, there is something to be found. And easy.

When I moved into Smith, the only thing I needed to give them was a cash deposit. It isn’t like in America where they request a letter from your employer or a pay stub or any of those other things. Nope. Money equals a place to rest your head. Easy. As.

Street food is your savior

On a budget? Try dining on street food in Chiang Mai

People always ask me if I am worried about getting food poisoning from street food. My answer? Nope. Sure, I don’t see health inspectors coming around and checking to make sure meat is kept in proper conditions, etc., but whatever. It’s Thailand. You have to operate on trust that the food you are eating is OK. Yes, I have heard of instances where people get sick from the food, but it isn’t often.

Plus, dinner for under $1? Yes. Please.

Which leads me to the other topic of food …

It is easy to be a vegetarian

Vegetarian options abound at the markets in Chiang Mai

The local markets sell heaps of fresh fruit and veggies, and nearly every restaurant I eat at has veggie options. I get tired of nuts and tofu and eggs, but there are some restaurants here that offer up a sweet amount of choices beyond just stir-fried veggies. My favorite is Taste from Heaven and the little Chinese restaurant and veggie food stand by my house — both make killer fried mushrooms. I promise, they are KILLER.

Bugs are a part of life

I don’t like bugs. I seriously don’t like spiders. Or ants. Or cockroaches. And you know what? They all live together in my little house. In my old life, this would have been unacceptable. Now, seeing a spider scurry across my bed (hey, my walls are teak boards with cracks that let in sunlight) makes me uneasy, but, hey, I share my life with them. Leeches on the other hand? No. Just, no.

Same goes with the geckos. They are everywhere. I find them cute. Until they fall on the table in front of me. Then, I stifle a scream and go on with life.

If there is one thing about living in Chiang Mai, I’ve certainly chilled out in regards to the bugs. Although if one lands on me, you can bet your ass I still have a minor freak out.

Amazing people come, amazing people go

In my year here, I have made so many phenomenal friends. And said “see you soon” to nearly all of them. Whether just stopping in town for a few months or longer and then packing bags and heading to the next journey, Chiang Mai is a transient town. More transient than I imagined, and far more unstable in terms of routine than I have ever experienced before (sans my long-term backpacking trip).

It doesn’t get easier, either.

The community here, the one I am a part of, is such an eclectic mix of people. It’s all ages. Varied nationalities. Different passions. And yet, this little community loves each other. The people in my life are all so incredibly random and beautiful, and the support I have received from them has made my year so special. When I first began to have my anxiety attacks, it was two people I had known for less than six months who come to my aid. Who wiped the tears from my eyes. Who got me out of the panic and fear I was staring dead on.

Everyone helps everyone out. People put aside their differences and at the end of the night, can all still sit together at the local restaurant or at Smith and have a beer. The attitude of “hey, we’re all in this together” is universal in the expat community. It’s evident even with strangers — there are heaps of Facebook groups like “I ❤ Chiang Mai” that encourage interaction.

It is comforting. It is nice. It is the next-best-thing to having my family here.

Yes, it changes. It morphs into shades of different often, but at the end of the day, the attitude is the same — we all have each other’s backs. It is a beautiful, special thing that I have not found anywhere else in the world.

The cost of living

Thai baht and your cost of living in Chiang Mai

Life can be cheap in Chiang Mai. Super cheap. When I first checked into Smith, I was shocked that my room was under $300 a month. Going from a paying a lot to a little is intoxicating. Then, paying $1 for pad thai, under $2 for a beer, under $1 for a “cab” ride … it made me dizzy. And, I started taking advantage of the cheap living and spending, spending, spending. A bottle of big water for 15 baht?!? That bottle is at least $2 in America .. and here? 50 cents? Dear god, yes.

I eat out a lot. Every meal, actually. Why? Well, for nine months, I didn’t have a kitchen. I had a microwave and a little fridge. And it was so much easier just to go out to the market by my house and drop 30 baht than anything else. Today, I’ve got a house, a big fridge, a gas stove and a microwave oven. You know what? I still go out to eat. I’m a crap cook, I’m a crap buyer-of-produce and I prefer instant (or near instant) gratification. Therefore, I fork over the money for this.

I can get by on about 20,000 baht a month, all in. Sometimes, I spend more. Like, when I want to go shopping or have a nice night out at a wine bar. Or indulge in my weekly (or more) massages. But, hey, for under $5 for an hour, why wouldn’t I treat myself to a little decadence as often as possible?

Everything you need exists at Tesco Lotus

When I first arrived here, I was scared I wouldn’t be able to find clothing. I’m not a teeny tiny Thai person, I’m a Western gal and my leg is not the size of my arm, which makes buying clothing here a challenge.

Enter Tesco Lotus.

Sure, I’m an XL at the store, but it doesn’t matter to me. It means I don’t have to ship in clothing from America (which, by the way, would not suggest doing unless all tags are removed and clothing is washed; otherwise you are slapped with heavy import fees). Oh, did I mention the clothing is cheap? 300 baht for a pair of capris. 400 baht for a cute dress. Yeah … I’m in cheap clothing heaven.

Plus, my TL is like a Target. Seriously. I could spend hours just wandering the store. It’s got everything. Bedding, candles, cleaning supplies, furniture, groceries. [It should be noted if you have any fashion sense at all you will lose it once you move here. Seriously. I live in comfortable clothing to beat the heat.]

Yup. In. Love.

No ride in the Old City or around the moat should be more than 20 baht

A ride around Chiang Mai's moat should be 20 baht

“D, I am in a songthaew right now coming from Chiang Mai Gate to Loi Kroh,” my friend says into the phone. “He charged me 30 baht.”

I put my head in my hands.

It is so easy to get scammed by the songthaew drivers here. There have been plenty of times where I ask for a ride that isn’t more than five minutes and the driver tries to charge me 100 baht.

“Mai chai,” I always say. “I live here. Twenty baht.”

Normally, it isn’t a problem. If it is, they pass me up and I hop in the next.

Chiang Mai tuk tuk

Or, if you want to spend a little more (or if it is late at night/early in the morning), your only normal bet is the tuk tuk. The prices can be jacked up for a tuk tuk, depending on location. Never accept the first offer, normally you can talk down a driver at least 20 baht or more.

Get a motorbike

Need transportation in Chiang Mai? Rent a motorbike.

I’m a serious chicken when it comes to motorbikes. It wasn’t even until a few weeks ago I let my friend give me my first lesson, which included about two minutes of sitting on the bike, clutching the gas and brake and propelling myself about a centimeter.

Perhaps it is because I have had limited experiences on motorbikes in my life, and the closest I have come to riding one is sitting on the back and whispering in my friend’s ear to “please drive slow or I may freak out and fall off and die.”

But, seriously, if you are going to live in Chiang Mai, get a motorbike. Take it from me, who doesn’t have one. Having a motorbike opens up the city and beyond. It lets you drive to Tesco Lotus instead of taking a yellow songthaew and being at the mercy of the 10 baht bus schedule. It lets you pop down to get a coffee, or go see a movie without relying on public transportation.

And, if you aren’t going to get a motorbike, get a bike. And, no, I don’t have one of those either. Remember, I’m a chicken. The drivers here scare me. However, for all of you far braver folk, you won’t be sorry. Just ask any friend of mine. They have one or the other … or both.

Get out of town

Chiang Mai is mesmerizing. It is quaint. It has adorable little quirks, hip and trendy areas and a moat (!). But, like any place you live, every now and then it is important to escape Chiang Mai, get perspective (ex. a sweet vacation in Koh Samui or an adventure in Sri Lanka) and then come back and fall more in love.

Visit the White Temple in Chiang Mai

Fortunately, there are plenty of budget airlines that grant you that wish — which can even be pretty last-minute — without breaking the bank. Three major budget airlines run out of CNX: Air Asia, Nok Air and Bangkok Air. But, that isn’t all. You can often find deals on Thai Airways and others, too. Monitor the Web sites, they all have killer sales sometimes.

Beyond escaping via plane, there are plenty of day trips or overnight trips that can satiate the need to explore beyond the backyard. Chiang Rai, Chiang Dao and Pai are popular destinations less than four hours from town. There are also plenty of places to explore even closer, like Sri Lanna National Park, heaps of waterfalls and hot springs, temples and more.

And, don’t forget about spending time with the elephants!

Be respectful

You will go a long way if you can learn some basic Thai. Mine isn’t great (read: horrid), but knowing your pleasentries and numbers can help, and shows that you actually are making an effort to assimilate in the country.

It’s also important to know the general rules of the Thai culture. Take your shoes off before entering someone’s home. Don’t touch the head of someone older than you. Don’t point to anything or touch anything with your feet. Don’t walk around in your bikini top, ladies. Gentlemen, don’t take off your shirt and walk through town. Even if it is hot. This isn’t a beach and walking around semi-nude is rude.

Get to know your neighbors

Having both farang and local people in your life is a necessity. Other farang know what you’re going through when you say you just need a hug, or are having a moment. Locals are important, too. They help you create a sense of home, even if you are far away. Find a spot you can frequent, whether it is a coffee shop, restaurant or bar, and get to know the people who run it. Getting yourself a local support system is essential.

If you don’t have to be here in the “summer,” don’t

The “summer” months in Chiang Mai run from around February to the end of April. During this time, it is hotter than Hades. Disgustingly hot. No rain. You sweat as soon as you step out of your (cold) shower. It is also burning season, when visibility can be reduced to right in front of you. The air is thick with smoke and your lungs hurt.

I lasted through the season, but it is because I had to. If you don’t need to be here, skip it. Or power through it and lament over iced-down Leos about how grossly hot it is and how the air smells putrid from the smoke.

But, be here for Songkran

Experience Songkran in Chiang Mai

At least your first Songkran. The largest water fight in the world, Songkran is a time the city comes together with one major purpose: to throw water on each other. It is fun. It brings you back to childhood. I was dreading the festival, but ended up surprising myself and loving it more than I ever thought possible.

Embrace your expat-ness

Being an expat is a blessed opportunity. Not everyone can have this experience — no matter where in the world the experience is. Appreciate everything about this life — the nuances, the troubles, the beauty. You are fortunate to be where you are — never forget that. Love. Laugh. Live.

Have you ever been an expat in Chiang Mai? What have you learned? Share your comments below!

Party like you’re underage in Chewang

It’s a humid night on Koh Samui when I head out from Amari to meet two of my friends in the heart of Chewang. I’ve got no idea what to expect, but once I start walking, I begin to imagine the bars in Chewang will be similar to the backpacker enclave I so loathe in Chiang Mai, home to Zoe, the Reggae Bar and other little, non-descript bars where the name of the game is two-fold: get super sloppy drunk and get laid. Perhaps it is the visitors to the island clad in the “Same Same” and “Chang” shirts, complemented by the fisherman pants or short, brightly colored shorts. Or, perhaps it is the onslaught of flashing lights and menu boards advertising their drink specials.

As I walk down the street, shop owners hassle me.

“Hello, miss, where you from? You buy [dress, purse, massage, etc.].”

Annoyed by the constant hassle, I grab my headphones and put them in my ears. There’s no music playing, but the act delivers a great excuse to ditch the BS conversation and head down to where my friends are staying — across from the main drag of bars in the city.

When I first arrive to my Koh Samui vacation, I don’t envision the hustle that confronts me. From the plane, and then on the ground, navigating the winding roads lines with tropical, flower-toting trees, I get jaded … and quickly. Then, when I realize that this island is the stop before partiers board a ferry and shuttle over to the real party on Koh Pha Ngan, it hits me.

The younger group of tourists here are looking for the same excitement they get during the Full Moon Party, namely the drugs, booze and sex. It’s evident by the throngs of young girls packed together and the groups of similar men, cans of Chang in hand, eyeing them as they pass on the uneven sidewalk.

My friend and I head over to the main bars and decide on an Irish pub. It’s about 10 p.m. and while the streets are beginning to get lively, the bar is still rather quiet. Unless you count the blaring music being pumped from the speaker behind our seat.

Sipping on a whisky bucket

We do what most partiers do when wanting a night out and order a Sangsom and Coke bucket. For 150 baht, it isn’t a bad price considering Samui is far pricier than Chiang Mai. We sit there until the music drowns out our conversation, and then grab a picnic bench at the front of the bar. And another bucket.

By 11 p.m., the bar is crowded and the drunks have come out. From my vantage point looking into the pub, I see a guy, probably in his mid-20s, sit down and then fall backwards on his chair, crashing to the ground. Laughter erupts from his friends as he stumbles up and aims his ass for his seat again, this time making contact and not falling.

“Dear god,” I mumble, looking at the intoxication on display.

Then, girls walk up to them, holding balloons in their hand, and join them at their table. If they weren’t friends before they sat down together, they are now.

By midnight, when my other friend joins the mix, this little street of debauchery has become the place to be. It’s a hodgepodge of all ages with the same goal: to party their asses off in their temporary tropical reality.

We head out to what seems to be a club — it’s got a few empty dance floors, laser lights casting green and red dots on the floor, and high tops situated around — and order up another bucket. The outdoor venue is just getting started, but we opt to continue our exploration, passing the Laughing Gas Balloon stand for 150 baht a balloon. I remember the sweet inhales of my youth and shudder.

It’s like I’m at a Phish show. In Thailand. And suddenly 19 again.

As the early morning begins to take over, we head to one last bar before dipping out and returning to our respective rooms.

When I arrive back to Amari — a 10 minute walk from the madness — I am ridiculously grateful to have my plush bed … and massage at Breeze booked for the morning.

Ahh, Amari

I have a checklist for what constitutes my version of paradise:

1. A gorgeous location

2. Something gorgeous to view

3. Someplace gorgeous to stay

4. The ability to tune out the real world and relish all of the gorgeous

Amari Palm Reef in Koh Samui is one example of my paradise. Located in the town of Chewang, it is far enough from the main drag, yet close enough to get to where the action is.

After taking my 130 baht taxi — which really isn’t a taxi at all but a van that shoves as many bums in the vehicle as there are seats and then heads to whatever section of the island the group is going, dropping them off at their respective hotels — and arriving to Amari, I know immediately I am in for a true vacation.

Reception at Amari Palm Reef

The open-air reception and lobby is outfitted with comfortable, beach-y lounges topped with fresh-cut flowers, and staff with smiles on their faces.

I sit and fill out my reservation form and am handed a sweet fruit drink and scented, cold towel to refresh before I am taken to my room.

And, what a room it is.

The room

A junior suite at Amari Palm Reef

With 188 rooms, split between two areas (the main road intersects the property), I have the prime spot — an airy 45 meter junior suite on the second floor.The wall-to-wall sliding glass door opens out to a magical view of the pool, and beyond that the soft, white sand beach and glistening water.

The view from my junior suite at Amari

Of course, the first thing I ever do when I check into a hotel is try out the bed. Living in Thailand, the beds tend to be a bit harder than I am used to (or would like), but the bed in my room is about as perfect as they come. It’s soft, covered in lush sheets, topped with a crisp blanket and four pillows. I snuggle my head into the pillow.

Yeah.

It’s the best pillow I’ve ever rested my head on.

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The decorations in the room are quiet, but evoke an Asian vibe, and its the little details that really bring the room to life — fresh flowers in a sleek glass vase, a sculpture above the bed, decoration pillows on the couch.

And then, there is the bathroom. A nice-sized tub is situated next to the vanity (which is stocked with my absolute favorite line, Elemis), and then a separate shower and private bathroom on the other side.

My favorite product, Elemis, in the room at Amari

In the closet, there is a beach bag, an amazingly plush robe, slippers and an umbrella for when it rains in paradise.

I glimpse out the window and look at the clear blue sky as the sun begins to cast that warming golden our glow, then head down to the Bar@C for a quick cocktail before heading out for the night.

When I return home to my room, and for the next two days, I struggle with the choice of staying in my room or heading down to the pool and beach.

I swear, it is actually a hard choice given how in love I am with the bright room, and, of course, my delicious bed.

My last night at Amari, I don’t do anything but relish the calm the room is able to evoke from me. I tuck myself into the soft robe and sit out on my balcony, watching as lanterns float into the sky, stars twinkle, and in the distance, a lightening storm erupts, casting blue streaks through the clouds.

The pool

There are two pools at Amari — one on each side of the road. Because my room is beachside, I stick to that pool. Here, there are plenty of lounge chairs and quick poolside service. One corner of the pool has a whirlpool to sit and relax in the sun. There is also a “water fall” of sorts separating the two main areas of the pool.

The pool at Amari

The crowd is diverse — kids, couples, friends — and a few balls float in the pool, beckoning vacationers for a quick game.

I spend most of my time at the pool, but that’s only because the water in the pool is far cooler than that of the beach.

The beach

It’s beautiful.

The beach at Amari

It’s got incredibly soft sand, heaps of lounge chairs to lay on, but it’s the water that’s the problem.

The shore at Amari Palm Reef

Because it is so shallow in this part of Chewang, the water is warmer than a bath. I walk out a good distance, and it still doesn’t come up to my calves. The sea isn’t the best for swimming, but the view truly is spectacular.

Bar@C

Beds, couches and cozy tables create an idea of an alternative reality. While the booze is a bit pricey for my Chiang Mai standards, the luxurious lounge immediately gives way to a relaxation I haven’t felt in a long time. Sitting, sipping a cocktail and looking out as the sky turns to night over the water is a fantastic way to start my first night in Koh Samui, and more important, my first vacation in ages.

Beds at bar@c at Amari

During the day, I snack on fish and chips (OK, not fantastic), and by night I meet one of my closest friends in Thailand for a cold, albeit pricey by Chiang Mai standards, beer.

Prego

Chiang Mai has ruined me in regards to wine. The typical wine I can order up north is the Mont Clare box crap. So, when I sit down to dinner and see a multi-page wine list boasting wines from all over the world (hand selected by the hotel’s general manager, Martin Kunzmann), my eyes nearly pop out of my head. Wine! Sweet! Delicious! Wine! In bottles!

The extensive wine selection at Amari's Prego

That’s enough to make me fall in love.

The atmosphere at Amari's Prego on Koh Samui

But, there is more to Prego than just the wine. The open air restaurant situated across the street from the beachside half of Amari, has a chill vibe. And, gorgeous menu packed with Italian selections.

Sure, when in Thailand, eat Thai food. But, when there’s an Italian restaurant with items like Waygu on the menu, damn. Order. It. Up.

Even as a non-meat-eater, there are plenty of options. For my main course, the chef actually whips up a sensational sea bass served with grilled veggies and truffled, yes, truffled mashed potatoes. I haven’t had anything this divine since my Vegas days.

Since I’m so stuffed on the mashed potatoes (plus the smoked salmon app and main course), I can’t try any of the desserts, like the limoncello sorbet — even if my tastebuds say yes. Instead, I get a little glass of grappa to wash everything down.

I walk out feeling delighted, stuffed and blissfully happy.

Pizza at Amari's Prego on Koh Samui

The next day, I return to Prego to try one of the wood-fired pizzas. Perfectly crisp and delicious.

The breakfast buffet

Most breakfast buffets I encounter tend to lack veggie options. Not Amari.

The selection is huge and includes fresh-baked breads, an omelette station, cheese, fruit, pancakes, french toast and more — all served on the second floor of the resort’s other restaurant, Merante. With a view of the pool and sea, it is a great place to sip a morning cup of coffee, nosh on better-than-normal buffet items and prepare for a day in Koh Samui.

Breeze Spa

The Breeze Spa at Koh Samui's Amari

The spa offers a wide-range of treatments, including massage (naturally), scrubs and wraps, facials and more. While staying at Amari, I got a hot stone massage and loved it. Consultants meet with each person individually to determine what treatment would suit them best based on their needs, and then from there, it’s game on.

The customer service

I mentioned that everyone at reception had smiles. But, the customer service at Amari goes beyond that. When I want to book a trip off the island, the GM is the one to whip out a map and suggest places to check out. When I decided I want to head to a little island for the morning, his staff actually book me the trip, arrange a private car for me to explore other island goodies, and then slip an itinerary under my door that night with all of the details.

And, when my friend loses her phone, the front desk is the one to get on the phone and speak Thai to places she could have left it. Above and beyond the normal call of customer service, and something we are both grateful for, even if the phone never turns up.

The bottom line

Amari is luxurious without being pretentious; posh without being exclusive. It’s a place where couples, families and friends can all feel comfortable. The spa, with specials during the low season, is great value for the treatments. Prego is a fantastic spot for a fancy dinner, laid back lunch or just to sip wine (my favorite!). The property is close enough to the party of Chewang without being in the party, and given that transportation on the island can cost a good bit, its nice to know you don’t have to hop in a cab to experience something other than the property. For those in need of wifi, it is fast and log-in is easy. Plus, the entire resort is outfitted with it so you can make all of your friends jealous with those feet-in-the-sand pics on Facebook. Would I stay here again? Absolutely.

Editor’s Note: My time stay was courtesy of Amari Palm Reef, however all opinions are my own. If you have questions regarding this, please read my disclosure policy.

Vacation, all I ever wanted

There’s a panic that sets in sometimes. A panic of being stationary. When this panic sets in, I normally high tail it out of the place I am to embark on an adventure. But, this time, I don’t want to do that. I just want a break.

Some “me” time that whisks me out of my safe haven of Chiang Mai and into the arms of another amazing city.

Airport in Chiang Mai

So, when I am nearly to my one year anniversary of being an expat in Chiang Mai, I do what I need to do — I take a vacation.

Screw you, travel panic. I’m tackling the beast head on.

In the (almost) year I have been in Thailand, I have traveled quite a bit. Just not domestically. And, at nearly one year, the fact I have yet to explore the paradise down south makes me feel as if I am the worst Thailand expat in the universe.

With nary a second thought, I investigate Bangkok Air’s Web site and book flights from Chiang Mai to Bangkok to Koh Samui.

Why Koh Samui?

I am a solo traveler for the most part, but when I am reminded one of my closest friends will be relocating to the tropical paradise of Samui for a brief bit, the idea of sipping icy beers seaside romances my mind. I’ve heard good things about the island … and not-so-good things, too. I decide to form my own opinion and head down to the Gulf for my own exploration.

As I board my flight out of my northern jungle, I can feel the Relax take over my body.

My first true vacation in more than one year.

View over Samui airport

And, when the plane descends into the Samui airport and I spy the lush green mountains jutting out of a bluegreen sea, I can feel my cheeks touch my eyes.

Samui airport is like Disney Land. Seriously.

inside Samui Airport

It has adorable little huts and open-air gates, planes painted with tropical themes and little golf cart-type vehicles to drive you the minute from the plane to the terminal.

Paradise, Samui style.

Once the 130 baht cab drops me off at my first hotel for my trip, I know I made the right decision. While it isn’t a lot of travel time, when I first glimpse the sparkling sea, I feel like I am in a different world. It’s hard to believe this is Thailand. That I’m even on the same continent. I’ve truly entered paradise.

Samui Chewang Beach

Hello, Samui. This is going to be fun.

Daily Wanderlust: Storms on Samui

There is a gentle breeze in the air and dark, ominous clouds hovering over our heads as Paula and I make our way from the main loop road in Lamai down to the beach on one of Thailand’s biggest islands, Koh Samui.

“It definitely looks like it is going to rain,” we say to each other as we walk down a path that meanders between old bungalows and hand-painted signs.

When we arrive to Black Pearl Restaurant, I want to sit outside because I love the rain. And rain and the beach and palm trees all together? Well, it’s my version of heaven.

Unfortunately, the staff doesn’t agree and ushers us under the roof.

Over fruit shakes, and later, beer, I split my time between conversation with my friend and eyeing the horizon.

The rain comes, the rain goes, rainbows crawl across the clouds.. Then, as twilight sets in, the sea and sky being to dance together in a mix of blue and green and gray, creating one of the most spectacular visions I have ever seen.

Sure, it’s my last night in Samui, and that kinda makes me sad to leave paradise, but with this as one of the last images in my mind, it also cements its place in my heart.

Storm clouds in Koh Samui Thailand

Goodbye, Prius

She sits in the lot at CarMax, her dark gray exterior even darker against the overcast winter sky in Maryland.

I blink back tears, then head inside to sign her away.

“Well, this is really easy,” the sales clerk says to me across his desk in the fluorescent lit office. “Just sign here and here, and then we will pay off your loan and give you a check for the difference.”

My mom sits next to me. I turn to her, my brown eyes watery.

“D, this is what you want,” she says, rubbing my leg.

Yes … but …

I take the pen and sign.

Deal. Done.

We walk back out into the nippy air and she’s gone. Gone. Whisked away before I could even let my fingers linger over her smooth body one last time.

I grab for my keys, out of habit, and sign when I realize the key FOB for her is no longer in my possession.

Mom and I pile into her car and sit there for a second.

“You OK?” she asks.

It’s not like I’ve lost something huge. But, my car … she’s gone.

My Toyota Prius — The first day with my car, July 4, 2007.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I guess … well … now it is final. I’m really an expat when I sell my car.”

Yes, my sweet little Prius that I have loved for five years … gone. Taken into the depths of CarMax, hopefully to reemerge loved by someone who loved her as much as I did, even though I never gave her a name. But, rest assured, the Prius was most definitely a “her.”

For five years, she was my partner in crime. My friend. I’d sit in her comfortable seat, drive along on a soundless ride, challenge myself to use battery power versus the engine. She’s been my faithful companion on two major road trips. But more importantly, she’s seen me on the best and worst days in my life.

As we drive away from the dealer on my last night in Maryland, memories of my car run through my head. Sitting and toying with the little bubble in the steering wheel when the car was parked and I would just sit on my phone, talking through my bluetooth. Singing at the top of my lungs to whatever song would cheer me up. Hauling my life from Las Vegas to Maryland. Driving down Las Vegas Blvd. with travelers packed into my car listening to Kanye West’s “Flashing Lights.” In fact, most songs I hear involve a memory of driving in that car.

Toyota Prius road trip — Road trippin’ in comfort!

I’m not a very materialistic person. I don’t get attached to things easily. But, Prius (OK, we’ll name her that), she was mine. She was the first thing I had ever invested in. The first thing, other than my cats, I was truly responsible for. In a way, she was my real passage into adulthood. Not moving to Vegas, not getting a job, but owning a car.

Drive Toyota Prius — More than 3,000 miles crossing America … thanks to my friend, Prius.

But, at the end of the day, she was expensive. Really, really expensive. And, living in Thailand with no expected return date to the States? Well, there’s is no reason to continue to pay off a loan when I don’t even get to enjoy driving her.

There are times now in Chiang Mai when I will see a Prius drive by, silent in its passing, and I will smile to myself and think of the memories I have of my girl. Then, I look around at where I am and know I made the right decision. Hopefully, little Prius is making someone else as happy as she made me.

Daily Wanderlust: floating in Sri Lanna National Park

The boat that whisks us some 20 minutes from the red-dirt mainland to the floating bungalows and restaurant is loud. Super loud.

But none of us care.

A quick drive from Chiang Mai (about 75 minutes) takes city-dwellers to another world … filled with water and tree-covered mountains. The perfect day trip for those looking for a little less touristy options (think White Temple in Chiang Rai) and a little more bonding with nature (and friends).

Sri Lanna National Park, located in Maetaeng, is Thailand’s sixth largest national forest and comes complete with plenty of swimming, floating houseboats for rent, restaurants and more.

Entrance is 20 baht per person, plus the cost of the boat ride.

And, it’s my go-to place for escaping Chiang Mai … for the day.

Thailand's Sri Lanna National Park

Daily Wanderlust: the vibrant Valley of Fire

Located outside of Las Vegas, the Valley of Fire is a site to behold.

With enormous outcroppings of orange-hued rock set against lime green cacti and bright blue sky, the beauty of the southwest desert comes alive here. It is one of my favorite spots to explore and offers gorgeous drives and stunning hikes around the park.

Nevada's Valley of Fire