Photos of Bagan

I decided to use my time off over the holidays for a "staycation", relaxing and exploring Mandalay. I also wanted to visit Bagan and am glad I did.  Some fellow teachers said they preferred it to Angkor Wat.  Primarily because it is still relatively not overcrowded with tourists.  I'm glad I saw it now since I suspect in a couple of years it will be mobbed.  Here are some photos.

The boat to Bagan took off just after sunrise.

Doing laundry in the river.

The dining room on the boat.  They had surprisingly good and inexpensive hot meals.  I was expecting ramen but it was made to order.

Comfortable seats, not too crowded and plenty of places to sit or walk on deck.

We arrived in Bagan at sunset, 11 hours after leaving Mandalay.  The flight back to Mandalay took 19 minutes.

Let the tour begin!

B

One of the over 3,000 temples, stupas and pagodas in Bagan.  All in praise of Buddha.

A close-up of the carving on the sandstone exterior of the temple shown in the photo above.

They are various sizes and shapes.

Many were destroyed during the devastating earthquake in 1975.

The jugs with conical tops are seen everywhere - public drinking fountains.

Horses and buggies are a popular way for tourists to get around.  They are to Bagan what tuk tuks used to be to Thailand.

Are they starting to all look the same?

Waiting for sunset.

View from the restaurant adjacent to my hotel.  In the foreground is an artificial Christmas tree covered with "snow" made of cotton balls.

Getting close to sunset.  This is the dry season.  Can you imagine how green and lush this looks in the wet season?

The guide who led me up the inside stairs to the top of the pagoda to watch the sunset.  She has four children and is very proud that her oldest daughter is attending university.  She's wearing the traditional thanaka (pronounced tanaKAH) on her face.  It is for beauty and protection from the sun. Many of my kids wear it every day.

The biggest temple (pagoda) I saw was across from my hotel.

One of the columns decorated with mirrors and colored glass.

Happy Ending

Mark is out of surgery and doing well.  All went as planned.  He gets to play Sleeping Beauty in recovery for a couple of hours then will be back in his room.

Mark's Medical Adventures Continue...Bumrungrad Hospital.

Bangkok has created a new form of tourism.  Medical tourism.  Build world class facilities, stock them with top notch staff and charge less than other places and voila, you have yet another reason to come to Thailand.

Bumrungrad International Hospital is considered by many to be the star in the crown of upscale hospitals in Bangkok.  My week in the hospital was at Camillian, which is Catholic and whose mission is to serve indigent HIV/AIDS patients.  If you consider a spectrum of healthcare options, Mandalay General hospital would be at one end, Bumrungrad would be at the other and Camillian would be toward the middle.  Sort of like comparing a fleabag on Route 66 to a Holiday Inn to the 4 Seasons.

It had been a tiring and stressful trip to Bangkok and that was from my perspective.  I can only imagine how Mark was feeling, especially since we discovered that the "pain medicine" he'd been given for the trip were actually antibiotics for the scrapes and cuts on his legs and arms.

We weren't sure where to go.  Mark voted for the clinic where he'd been before.  I voted for the hospital which was next door and had an emergency room.  I'm pushy and mobile, Mark was in a wheelchair.  I won.  In the ER, though, we discovered that Mark was correct.

No matter, the ER staff took his card from a previous stay, entered him in the system, set up appointments and off we went.  Rolling through the air conditioned lobby, subtly decorated with understated Christmas ornaments and flowers was very different than rolling through dirt and fighting dogs in Mandalay.

We were whisked to the 20th floor on a glass elevator.  The only thing that kept me from saying "Holy shit!" when the doors opened into what appeared to be a very large, opulent living room were the number of well dressed people in the area.  That did not stop me from using the f word, very quietly but with great feeling on a later trip on the same elevator.  I felt it was warranted since Mark's wheelchair (with him in it) had just rolled over my big toe.

The decor seems to be going for that "We're not showing off, we just want you to be comfortable and let you know we spent truckloads of money on this place" style of decor.  By far, nicest most comfortable hospital I've ever seen.  Much more like a hotel than a clinic.

First stop was to get Mark's vitals taken in a room dedicated to that.  When they wanted to weigh him, Mark groaned because when he's sitting still the pain isn't bad.  But getting up and down is horrible.  No problem here at Rich Peoples Hospital.  Oh, sorry, Bumrungrad.  He stayed in the wheelchair while the nurses weighed him.

Next, radiology for more X-rays since the ones taken in Myanmar didn't include all his ribs.  A minor technicality.  I was asked to wait outside but from Mark's demeanor when he was wheeled back to me, it was a relatively pleasant experience.

After a few minutes wait and some paperwork we were escorted to the orthopedic surgeon's office.  He explained what he'd seen and what he thought the plan should be.  I asked questions about length of time in the hospital and length of recovery time.  I made sure to quickly let the doctor know that I was leaving for Mandalay and Mark planned to care for himself in a hotel room.

Next we got to visit a very cardiologist.  Because Mark's impact on his chest had been so severe he wanted to rule out any damage to his heart.  A quick EKG later, the all clear on the heart was given.  Because Mark and I both enjoy poetry by Robert Service I couldn't help reminding him of the one about the lady with a boil on her butt.  She went from "doctor" to "doctor" being examined when the final one told her the doctors were out and they were all just painters.

When we were told we were on our way to a third doctor, we both just giggled.  The final doctor was a critical care/thoracic guy.  His job was to determine if the damage to the lung would prevent surgery to the ankle or to figure out the best type of anesthesia to use.

Ok, we had a plan.  Surgery on the ankle on Tuesday, using an epidural.  During one of our waiting periods, we were given room choice options.  I was pushing for the Deluxe Suite on the Premier floor.  Mark was leaning toward something more modest that didn't cost more than a monthly mortgage payment per day.  He opted for a shared room/bath.  The room is very nice and no one is in the next bed so he got a private room (at least for now) for half price.

When the charming ladies provided an estimate of total cost, I thought stroke or coronary would be added to the list of ailments.  And it had to be paid before any treatment began.   That's when the real stress began.  Mark's phone charger was in another bag, which they'd kept at reception.  I would have gone to get it but it was 3 a.m. where he wanted to call and so he wanted to wait.  By that point it was after 7:00 p.m. in Bangkok.  Mark hadn't peed for about a month (and it was in another country); neither of us had eaten except for a small snack on the plane and we were both cranky.

Both of us just wanted him to be settled in a bed where he didn't have to move and could get sone rest.  And some pain meds for him and an adult beverage for me.  Eventually we were taken to his room and worked on getting him settled.  There was much to be done:  blood tests, IV ("you have small veins, let me try again"), etc.

The nurses were kind and well meaning but as in hospitals everywhere when you combine tired, hungry people in pain with busy, tired medical professionals there can be tiny bumps in the road.  I finally went to the nurses station and in the most respectful, polite way I could asked for food and pain meds.  The nurse sweetly smiled and nodded and said "Yes!  Tomorrow!"  I gently tried again.  She kindly responded "Tomorrow!"  She had a bit more of an edge in her tone and she started pointing vehemently at some papers, repeating "tomorrow!  tomorrow!"  I took a step back and tried to consider where our communication had broken down.  I started making eating motions and pointing towards Mark's room.  Then acting like I was giving myself a shot and pointing to his room.  She and the other nurses were excited - how fun, charades at 10:00 p.m.!  They got it though and I discovered she thought I was insisting on getting the paperwork back that she was going to copy.

Five minutes later Mark had food and a shot in the IV for pain.  Since I had no idea where I was going to sleep that night, I wanted to get that sorted out.  I considered just using the extra bed in the room but couldn't afford it.

I got in a cab and found a place to stay.  Mark had stayed there before.  The major appeal was that it's close to the hospital and has both a 7/11 and a Pizza Hut attached to it.  At midnight I was enjoying a slice of pizza and a cold beer.  That's when I discovered I needed to be back at the hospital by 6:30 a.m. on Tuesday.

When I arrived, Mark was up continuing a marathon session of finding a way to transfer funds so he could fork over a large amount of cash to the hospital.  It took a couple of more hours, a laptop and smartphone and the help of Mark's best friends and his investment company but a temporary solution was found, money is being transferred and now it's on to the surgery.

Once we'd gotten cleared for the surgery financially we both began to relax and just spent the time talking.  It wasn't long before they came in to move him to the gurney to head for the operating room.  Luckily, they were able to slide him from one bed to the other which was much less painful than all previous transfers.

I followed along to the door to the operating suite.  Since he was flat on his back I was describing what he couldn't see.  Like the doors to the operating room and the cashiers window just outside it.  We had a hearty laugh at that.  I'm sure these are dedicated health care professionals but there is no doubt this is big business.  There is a bank branch in the lobby with ATMs and a Western Union office.  There are cashier desks everywhere.

Now I'm just waiting to hear that Mark is safely out of surgery.  They said between 1:30 and 2:00 p.m. I'm hoping sooner rather than later.

Another Medical Trip to Bangkok - Mark O Goes to the Hospital

Sunday started out well.  Cool outdoors, quiet and peaceful.  As I was washing some strawberries I heard teachers talking outside so went out to join the group.  They were on the first floor and I got their attention, intending to toss them strawberries.  It took me a moment to realize this was no idle conversation.

Mark O had been riding his motorbike to the grocery store when he was hit by a truck.  In shock, he just asked them to bring him back to school.  The people who hit him, loaded him into their truck.  By the time I got there, he'd been taken out of the truck and was sitting on a (broken) plastic chair, holding a bag of ice on what was an obviously broken ankle.  He also complained of broken ribs.  Mark may not be a doctor but he had correctly diagnosed himself.

Aung Ko Latt, the school director, quickly arrived and we helped Mark into the back seat.  I hopped in the front and we headed to the largest government hospital in Mandalay.  We arrived about noon.  Between then and about 5:00 p.m., while Aung Ko Latt took care of the bureaucracy of police and hospital officials, Mark and I had an adventure.

It started as he was wheeled down a hallway which clearly hadn't seen the business end of a mop in a very long time.  It didn't help that there was a dog wandering along the corridor.  We reached the Radiology Department which was no less clean but didn't have dogs.  The equipment looked antiquated but worked.  I was allowed to stay in the room to keep Mark company.  I'm concerned that now I'll never be able to have children after the radiation exposure.

After X-rays we went off to get an ultrasound.  That involved a trip outside, past more dogs.  We'd learned in the ER that people didn't seem to mind brushing up against Mark's broken ankle so I was his "foot guard".  I'm sure some thought it was some kind of kinky American ritual that when  a man has a broken foot a woman is required to stand with it between her legs.  It was even more amusing for me to take that position when Mark was being moved.

After the ultrasound on the ribs, the tech handed me a clump of toilet tissue.  I looked at him with a "Huh?" expression and he nodded at Mark's gelled and naked belly.  Ah, you assume I'm the wife or girl friend.  I looked at Mark, he shrugged and I started mopping up the mess.  Mark talks a lot about collegiality but I really never thought it would come to this.

After more waiting and foot guarding, more AIS staff arrived.  We looked like a big Asian/Caucasian family with at least 10 of us now huddled around our fallen comrade.

Next on the agenda was a CAT scan.  I wondered if this was where they swung a cat over Mark by the tale, given the state of the rest of the place but we were led to a room and waiting until a large sliding door opened to a clean, chilled room.  In the center of the room was the latest model technology has invented.  It was a brand spanking new open scanner.  It was somewhat ironic that while we waited outside the room, a rat scurried down the hall.

After that test, we finally headed back to the five bed ward to get Mark settled.  AIS staff had brought bedding, bottled water and mosquito netting.  We'd seen several doctors and the last came in to confirm.   1 broken rib, some fluid in or around the lung and a broken ankle that needed surgery.  All agreed that the ankle would be stabilized so that Mark could have the surgery in Bangkok.

During all of this schlepping, we'd been carrying the backpack and extra items that a couple of teachers had thrown together.  It's fun (in retrospect and if you're not involved) to see how people think in an emergency.

How many pairs of shoes does a man with a broken ankle need?  And really, why had I been carrying around half a box of crackers and a bag of pistachio nuts all afternoon?

Mark spent the night in the hospital in Mandalay.  Two AIS staffers stayed with him and although Mark protested that he was fine alone, he said afterward that he couldn't have done it without two locals who spoke the language and were there for him.

Monday morning, people were scrambling to make arrangements to get Mark to Bangkok.  The plan was to send him alone, on a commercial flight.  I was concerned.  Even though the airline promised to take charge of things, sometimes things fall through the cracks.  And with Mark in a wheelchair he really was pretty helpless.  A decision was made to send me along.  A Myanmar staff member couldn't get a visa that fast, so I had to leave my assistant teachers in charge.

I packed in 15 minutes, assuming I'd just be gone overnight.  Remembered at the last minute I needed photos and documents from the school to get my visa when I return to Mandalay and the principal pulled those together.  The driver and I headed to the hospital where Mark was being checked out.  The parents of the man who'd hit him were there to show respect and apology for the problem.  The driver had been held in jail overnight but since Mark didn't want to press charges, he was released.

We had to stop at the police station, though, to make that happen.  Mark and I stayed in the car while the Myanmar staff took care of things.  Then, on to the airport.  We arrived about an hour before the flight.  I didn't have a ticket and the school had been told they couldn't sell me one at the counter.  Not sure what happened but a wonderful Air Asia manager took my passport, other staff wheeled Mark and we had a stress-free passage through immigration and security.  I quickly had my passport back along with a boarding pass.

But now the challenge.  Mandalay has but doesn't use jetways.  We went down an elevator and then walked/rolled across the tarmac to the plane.  We waited in the shade of the wing while other passengers boarded.  Mark and I kept waiting for some kind of equipment that could lift him up to the door of the plane.  Nope, there were four luggage handlers who were going to carry him up, wheelchair and all.

We were both leary but there wasn't a choice.  Luckily, he made it up without incident and after much pain and twisting about, was able to get in his seat.

The flight was fine and we were relieved as the plane pulled up to a jetway in BKK.  And then stopped a few feet away from it.  Yes, steps again.  We were told to stay put and we'd be the last off.  Fine.  Right up until they said there was no wheelchair and he'd have to hop down the stairs.  With a broken ankle (not yet in a cast) and broken ribs.

I refused and the two of us just sat and said "Get a wheel chair."  And they did.  The world tiniest wheelchair which would have been adequate for getting a small person down the aisle of the plane but there was no way Mark would be able to lower himself into it, be carried down and then get back up out of it.  Not having the use of the right leg and the left arm make maneuvering tricky.

We ended up waiting an hour for a regular wheel chair.  Most of that time the flight attendants just glowered at us from the back of the plane.  It was the worst example of customer service and empathy I have ever seen on an airline.  While we were waiting, we tried to make light of the situation.  Mark came up with a new slogan for Air Asia.  Building on their current tag line of "Now everyone can fly." Mark altered it "Now everyone can fly.  Some just can't get off."

Now that we had the wheelchair, the problem was who would carry it down.  Finally, they lassoed four luggage handlers.  Because they were inexperienced and it was a much less than ideal situation, Mark was in excruciating pain by the time we got down.  Where they then asked him to stand up and hop up on the bus.  He was lifted in and off we went to the terminal.  Me, Mark, the wheelchair jockey and a group of pissed off flight attendants.

At the terminal, again we had the issue of the step.  The flight attendants told the porter to shove him off.  After all, he had gravity on his side.  However, the jarring landing would cause not only pain but could cause the broken ribs to do further internal damage.  Mark stood up, swiveled and then just fell back into the wheelchair on the ground.

Immigration and luggage collection were easy since everyone else was long gone.  No one was waiting to transport us to the hospital as planned, so we just grabbed a taxi.  Less than 30 minutes later we pulled up to Bumrungrad Hospital in the Sukhumvit area of Bangkok.

To be continued...

Recent Photos at School in Mandalay

I enjoyed my career as a management consultant.  But I love teaching first grade.  The money is vastly different, but the day to day work is so satisfying.  Even on days when a lesson doesn't work or the kids are on the wild side.  These are photos from Social Studies yesterday.  We are studying world cultures and started with Samoa.  The kids were making candy ulas.  It may look calm and quiet but let me assure, it was nuts.  If I had heard "Teacher Nancy" yelled one more time, I might have jumped out the window.  But really, how can you not love those smiles?

Bangkok. Take Two

It's not even Thanksgiving, but it's Christmas season in Bangkok.

Traffic is Bangkok is like traffic in Manhattan.  

This is my second time in Bangkok for a visa run.  The first was primarily spent either in a hospital bed with my leg elevated or in a hotel bed with my leg elevated.  At least the hotel had mega English cable channels on TV.  On the other hand, the hospital provided 24 hour service for anything I needed from food to bed baths and bed pans.   

This time, I was looking forward to the shopping and dining I missed the first try.  I’ve been to Bangkok twice before these visa runs and know it has a lot to offer.  I was a bit dismayed when I came down with a cold a few days before leaving for Bangkok and then a knuckle on my hand became very swollen and painful.  Damn, is there a Bangkok curse?

I arrived Thursday evening and had a terrific dinner at a Mexican restaurant with one of the guys I teach with.  Food, tequila and conversation were good.  Plus, no talk of work/Mandalay. 

Friday I visited the hospital twice and in between got a two hour massage and ordered some custom silk blouses.  Coming home at six pm from the hospital proved frustrating.  A cab came when called but then demanded double the fare.  Wrong.  Or, perhaps not.  It was Friday night in Bangkok and traffic was gridlocked.  I then waited almost an hour for another taxi. 

 

I got great care at a good price from compassionate people at Camillian hospital.  But I hope I never go there again.

I saw this sign while sitting in traffic on my way home.  What kind of business has the slogan "If you can do it, you will see the difference!"  A tailor.

I stepped back inside to wait and avoid the mosquitoes, where I ran into an employee who’d been especially helpful during my stay previously.  She not only remembered my name but also the part of town where I’d stayed.  I showed her my appointment slip for the following day and she looked concerned.  I hadn’t really paid attention but she’d noticed that the appointment wasn’t for Saturday, it was for Sunday.

She went to check it out while I kept watch for the taxi.  As luck would have it, the taxi pulled up immediately after she walked off.  I asked him to wait and went running after her.  All this in sign language, of course.  I caught up to her, got a new appointment slip with the correct date and ran back, only to see the taxi taking off.  Damn, he’d seemed to understand and agree.

 

In front of the hospital.  These guys were great.

I enlisted the help of the orderlies who’d helped me call a taxi so many times.  They ran after the guy, yelling in Thai.    He stopped.  Big sigh of relief.  Then he backed up and parked.  And got out of the car.  The orderlies and I were looking at each other in confusion.  As the driver ran past us I heard an orderly translate one word:  toilet. 

Good thing he used the facilities because once we agreed that I’d pay the meter rate and headed into traffic, it was slow going.  I don’t know why I always forget that traffic on Sukhumvit (and everywhere else in the city) is gridlock on a Friday night.  And Saturday, Sunday, etc.

We got stuck in a real snarl near the Emporium mall.  Ho, ho, ho, all the Thai Buddhists were Christmas shopping.  Towering Christmas trees in front of malls, Christmas carols blaring (in English) and ads for “holiday” specials.   Because of the number of cars trying to exit the mall, traffic was not moving.  At all.  We sat for over 30 minutes when traffic started crawling again. 

Finally, he made a bold move around a bus, raced through an almost red light and there was space ahead.  He floored it and we simultaneously started yelling with excitement.  We made eye contact and laughed out loud.  It was one of those moments I call pearls – a moment of perfect joy.  He didn’t speak English, I don’t speak Thai, I was at least 30 years older and none of that mattered.  We were sharing a small but excellent moment.

On Saturday, instead of heading to Chatuchuk market, as planned, I was headed back to the hospital.  After a blood test, the doctor was concerned that I had a bacterial infection in the bone in my hand.  Or, possibly lupus.  I figured spending a few hours waiting with the dozens of other people to see a doctor were worth it to see a specialist.

It took all morning but I got great news.  Just the gouty arthritis I’ve had before.  It hadn’t bothered me in years but had flared up when I was in the hospital.  A reaction to the trauma of the infection according to the doctor.  i was given drugs and was on my way.  Let the vacation begin.

I had a fitting for my blouses on Saturday afternoon, spent some time on the internet and then met more co-workers for dinner.  At the same Mexican restaurant.  It was a fun evening with lots of laughs, although we had to consciously keep moving the conversation away from work.

Sunday morning I planned to leave really early for the Chatuchuck market, which opens at 6:00 a.m.  My body disagreed and I didn’t get up until 7:00 a.m.  After a quick shower and easy Skytrain ride, I arrived at the market around 8:15.  Good thing I didn’t get there earlier, since many of the vendors were just opening for business.

I spent about four hours at the market.  It’s big, but not as huge as I’d expected.  Most stalls are under roof and it’s a maze to get through.  Both junk and treasures, depending upon your perspective. 

It’s the kind of market I love to explore.   I know many people think it’s intimidating to travel alone, but this market is an example of why I love it.  I went at my own pace, stopping at what interested me and passing by things that didn’t.  I can’t imagine doing a market like this as part of a tour.  I had a small bottle of orange juice which I saw being squeezed.  I passed by all the food stalls, reluctantly.  I was more focused on shopping than eating.

 

It was early when I got to the market and the crowds hadn't arrived.  They were in full force by the time I left.

Hungry for a little Turkish food?  Bangkok (and the market) has it all.

And lots of tempting beverages.

Maua ili i le marketi!  Looks just like the fans I used everyday in Samoa.  One was my first purchase of the day.  $1 USD.

Tired of the market?  Grab some food from one of the dozens of food vendors on the street and rent a mat from a guy so you can enjoy a picnic in Chatuchuk Park, next to the market.

Have you ever shopped so much that you couldn’t remember every thing you bought?  That was my day.  It was fun to unload my backpack and rediscover my treasures.  A wallet.  Two muscle shirts for new grandsons of friends.  Bath salt scrub stuff to make my showers in Mandalay luxurious.  A blouse.  Two pairs of sandals.  Three DVDs which I'm sure are not black market.  Two silk pillow coverings for a friend who visited Thailand with me in 2003.  A silk hanging for my apartment in Mandalay.  A hand made paper hanging for my apartment.  Vegetable seeds and a jigsaw puzzle for my kids.  Cool hair clips for my assistant teachers.

All that loot for less than $100.  My kind of shopping.  Even after realizing that I got ripped off on the shoes.  If I’d bought the exact same thing on the street outside the market, I would have saved about ½.  But then again, I only paid $12, so was able to get over it quickly.

By the time I got back to my hotel I was sweaty, tired and getting hungry.  But happy.  After a bit of a rest and checking the internet, I headed out to find a late lunch.  I headed toward a nearby Chinese restaurant where I’d seen duck hanging out front.

There were few other customers there at 2:30 p.m. and I was offered a large table.  I relaxed and ordered honey roasted duck, stir fried morning glory with oyster sauce and rice.  And a Singha beer.  They didn’t blink that a woman alone was ordering a beer and brought it immediately, icy cold with a frosted mug.  Moments later the food began to arrive.  It was really good and I ate more than I should have.  All of that deliciousness was less than $15, USD.

With a full belly and a bit of a buzz (it was a large beer), I headed to the massage place near my hotel.  I left my shoes outside and settled in for two hours of bliss.  One hour of foot/leg massage, followed by an hour of Thai massage.  The Thai massage was a bit different than usual, with less stretching and pulling and more pressing and rubbing.  She found the knots in my shoulders and worked on those before taking care of the rest of me.  Here's a travel tip.  Do NOT wear a new pair of sandals to get a massage, after having a large beer.  I left my shoes outside, with all the others.  Between my relaxed state and the new shoes, took me a minute to find them.

I was planning to meet my school friends for a movie and dinner but the massage went a bit longer than scheduled (and I was not about to complain), so headed to a nearby food court.  I was still full from the large lunch so snagged a fresh cheese naan and mango and sticky rice for my dinner. 

It’s been a splendid vacation so far.  I’ve been able to Skype with a couple of friends, IM with others and just enjoy a change of scene.  I’ve got two more days before I leave.  I’m planning grocery shopping since I want to bring back “basics” like pickle relish, tortilla chips, refried beans and green chiles.  I also want to hit an area where I hear I can buy the kind of jewelry that will make my assistant teachers very happy.  There will be at least two more massages.  I plan to get a haircut.  I plan to eat Thai food.  And, I’ll be planning my visa run for January.  I’m thinking Kuala Lumpur this time, although staying in Bangkok would work, too.

I love, love, love living only two hours from Bangkok.

On the Road, Again!

I love teaching and living in Mandalay.  One of the reasons is that it's easy and affordable to travel around Asia.  I have two vacation periods coming up.  First, a week off from Nov. 21 - 27, then 2 1/2 weeks off over Christmas/New Year.

I was thinking Malaysia and Cambodia for these dates but my hospital stay in Bangkok put a crimp in my budget.  Plus, it's high season which means prices and crowds will be at their highest.

In November, it's a visa run, which means I have to leave the country so I can get a new visa when I return.  I have to do that every 70 days.  Having my employer pay for me to go to Bangkok every 70 days is a huge perk.

I decided to just stay in Bangkok.  I didn't get to see the stuff I wanted last time, especially Chatuchuk market.  And, I love Thailand and the food in Bangkok.

For Christmas I've been mulling over where to go.  Places like Angkor Wat in Cambodia will be overrun with tourists.  Big cities like Kuala Lumpur will be less impacted by the crowds but do I really just want to pay to spend that long in another big city?

I've decided to do a staycation.  Yes, it's still high season here but that means the weather is the best.  And I don't have to pay for flights.  Or hotel.  I'm planning to spend most of the holiday in Mandalay, and have already gotten a deal from a local taxi driver to act as tour guide.  This will give me a chance to see all the things I've been wanting to, at a leisurely pace.

For the actual Christmas holiday, I'm going to Bagan for three nights.  It's considered second only to Angkor Wat as a place of beauty and religious and historical significance.  It's on the Ayeyarwaddie river, as is Mandalay.  I'm tentatively planning to take a boat up (9 hours) and fly back (19 minutes). 

Next year, I'm planning Malaysia, Cambodia and Nepal.  As I tell my financial planner, I may not have tons of money when I retire, but I'll have some amazing memories.