M&M Palisades

                                                                                       not of the chocolaty variety

Bearing  your compass to the North East of Thailand, Khao Yai is a mere 3 hours of careful driving outside of Bangkok.  It has become the new “in” place for the “IT” people to satisfy their weekend holiday jaunts.   The scenery from a hilly point almost matches lush green valleys and mountains of Switzerland.   Village huts in the distance bring us to reality that we are indeed in Thailand in the province of Nakorn Nayok or Nakorn Ratchasima whichever way you are facing.

Deemed a tourist by my companions, the truth of the matter was – I was.   Teased for jungle creepy crawlies that my city condo has never seen, not even mosquitoes or the essential house lizard, I was embracing myself for the inevitable jumping frogs, flying mantis, or monitor lizards. It was a first time for me, and a leveler for a city girl, whose daily morning scenery is the concrete jungle.

Layered into the factor of anticipation was meeting new Facebook friends for the first time, the weekend was going to either be a burst of friendship or an explosion of quiet polite enemies.

Transport my host’s skills to any weekend destination in the world, you would have the dream organizer who has reached a height of excelled guests’ anticipation.  Even a fastidious hotelier would have to grudgingly defer.   My host’s additional talent is capturing the essence of the characters together for blending what is to be a life long association. A friendship that skims on the surface of sharp witted, fused with energy among highly cerebral people. A friendship that most jaded people convince themselves, “its just another frolicking weekend.” In actual fact this was a foray of emotions, plunging into personality depths that drew on the empathy of each other’s daily fight, shared good food, peeled the layers of our disposition and had an immense time uniting our common bond.

Pitched dark, no lights round the windy road, except for the car headlights, my host, gently suggests to her husband, for fun, to turn off the headlights.  I guess this was for the benefit of us city folks whose neon signs, and bustling city lights can never be dimmed…..or maybe this was their romantic interlude before the  weekend begins.  He chuckles at her suggestion, and keeps on going, oblivious to her remarks.  They have done this many times before.

In the dark, we arrived at M&M Palisades just in time for what my English friends would call a “light supper.”   “Light” it was, but “supper” was more like a “feast,” enough to feed a platoon.     The wooden long table that would easily seat 14 or more people was laden with delicacies I had as a child.  It was comfort food, dialed to the max and I gorged myself as if the last meal I had, was way back in the distance.   In reality, on the journey of only three hours, snacks of wonderful pastries were passed around in the car – just in case – hunger strikes.   She thought of everything.

Romeo & Juliet was my assigned room.  The thick wooden door with a heavy latch, deterring any Romeo wandering through in the night looking for his Juliet was simply but enchantingly decorated.   The room said everything of my host.  Practical, logical, fastidious, meticulous, charming, warm, right-brain, with a quirky sense of humor.  A basket embroidered EMERGENCY BOX had everything you need, forgotten items or things simply that might be needed.   Equipped with everything from Paracetamols, mosquito repellent, sewing kit to toothpaste – I did not look further just in case there was the essential French-letter perchance Romeo came through the window.

An eye opener for me was a tour down the valley of Khao Yai.   The locals like to compare their surroundings to that of Tuscany from climate to vineyards.   They forget, you need to have a history into the “making” of the place.   Take Palio Mall. 

It could be a rich man’s folly or perhaps, a rich man’s sons’ inability  to secure a proper job after an expensive education, escaping farming the fields of Cassava plantation by turning it into a Mall.   The grand idea has been to bring the charm of Tuscany to the green heart of Thailand. Both places share a cool, sunny climate and both grow wine – although not to the same distinction. Indeed a tenuous link, it does bring the essence of Tuscany to those unable to manage the plane ride.  

Unlike most Malls,  Palio is a picturesque shopping centre, themed around a Tuscan village where out-of-the-ordinary combination of clothes and gift shopping, gourmet Gelato’s and Waffles in replace of the local north-eastern delicacies of Somtum & Nua Yang variation.  It has the essence of Universal Studios, or Genting Highlands where unreality turns fantasy in cardboard fashion.   In low season, their accountants would not need to start deducting taxes for the fantasy doubles up as backdrop for a TV or film set that offsets any balance sheet.

Next stop Toscana.   No, it is not Italy.  But Toscana Valley Khao Yai.   A significant investment was made to hire an award-winning architect from California.  Aram Bassenian and Carl Lagoni have transformed part of the National Park of Thailand into a miniature Italian oasis. Aram Bassenian, an Armenian architect from Long Beach California, and Carl Lagoni are experienced in planning residential communities.   It is understandable for second and third generation of  Italian and Armenian extract yearning for their home country to need to reproduce their past.  With Mexican and Spanish history, it is only natural that with their experience and success bringing about the Tuscan farmhouse, stone brick and wood to lend a distinctly Tuscan atmosphere in California does seem to fit well with Hispanic Americans.    I ask myself, why Khao Yai? Was I sleeping in my history class – I thought all along that Thailand was never colonized by Tuscanians or any other foreign moghuls. 

From Toscana we pass Kensington Gardens resort, and a few more kilometers we are in the Cotswolds .  I did not leap over the English Channel but cruising on the Mitraparb Highway and still very firmly in Thai terracotta.  It is obvious that nationalism is not flavor of the month and the next generation need to be pricked and poked to avoid sublimation of values.

Even the prescribed shop had a life size Teddington bear by the door.  

Evening descended with my tongue dancing for some wine, our vehicle somehow managed to veer itself from the highway and turn into Alcidini Vineyard. A family enterprise started in 2001 by Suphot Krikpitudh with his wife and son.   On offer for tasting was a four month old Alcidini Recioto 2013 having just won the Food & Beverage Association (FBAT) Bronze award.   Slightly sweet, made from Shiraz grapes Alcidini got a “very good” rating, from the wine competition held in Hong Kong against 1,300 entries from around the world.   Not pretending to be a wine connoisseur, it did not have the hint of the kind of sophistication I’m used to, but it was fruity and very drinkable. 

It is an amazing feat how the body can adapt to vast quantities of food when under normal circumstance; two light meals are the norm. Another feast awaits us under the stars.   BBQ on the grill, salads, cheese platter and to follow homemade carrot cake, Fak-Tong, (Tong meaning Golden – I will leave the other meaning unclear) caramel custard to list just a few as the table was oozing abundance.  

It was a weekend of privilege.  

And I learnt a new speices.  

Clitoria Ternatea. 

I leave you to fantasize, ruminate and even pontificate its’ meaning.  This should certainly be the mascot for Khao Yai  as  the “Lilly” is for Italy. 

<<<<<  Clitoria Ternatea      

                                Italian Lilly   >>>>

FROZEN SOUL IN FREEZING SEOUL

Bitterly bone chilling cold is tolerable for five minutes. Into the sixth minute, hallucinations of hot burning scorching sun searing down my back commences the beginning of my insanity. If it were not for work, I would not opt to fly to Seoul, Korea in the dead of winter. My friend, Chung Kim, informed me over skype that outside his house, it was -15°C and predictions for the week, will go as low as -25°C

Any preconceived notions from all avenues of media, did not prepare me for the two things that struck about Korea, Koreans and the “Zeitgeist” of Korea.  The spirit of the age and the atmosphere of the place spelt “successfully clawed out of an abyss……hauling strength, self worth back up.” 

Early morning Seoul is a grey, misty and bone-gripping cold.  Sipping steaming tea whilst waiting for check-in time  -  Mr. Kim declined to waste time and took us on a visit to Jogyesa Temple.   Having practiced Buddhism in the threshold of “Theravadism,” the teachings of analysis, the doctrine that says insight must come from the aspirant's experience, critical investigation, and reasoning instead of blind faith.  To witness another form of Buddhism, “Bodhisattvas,” representing various aspects of compassion and wisdom filled my intellectual void.  

A white pine tree is located in the temple grounds.   Mr. Kim was proud to tell me that the Pine tree is a Natural Monument No. 9.  In the very cold wind, this was  my first leveler of nationalism.  The Cultural Heritage Administration of South Korea designated plants, landforms, and geological formations, nature reserves as natural monuments.   This lacebark pine had reached a height of 10 meters and estimated to be 500 years old; the lack of growing space has weakened its condition.  I could hear Mr. Kim’s American English continue to describe the temple fading into the distance,  as  my mind was on the Cultural Heritage Administration.  The ice cold temperature seemed to have lost its grip for a momentary spell, I was more mesmerized by a living thing, 500 years old sheltering me from the elements.  Held and treasured by Korean people, this tree became a significant feature to my introduction of all things Korean.

I have to admit that I have a biased attitude to all things Korean.  It’s a very female thing.   Unashamedly it is my unfound jealousy towards my partner’s ex-girlfriend  Sung-ji.  Obviously she made an impact on him, so all points she represented were doomed.   Poor Mr. Kim had to make up for things he had no idea how high a climb he needed to accomplish, in order to impress this jaded lady.

To combat the ice crystals forming in my veins, Sam Gae Tang was suggested.  This is the most wonderfully delicious chicken soup that even the best Jewish version could not compete and pales in comparison.  I stand my ground to any Jewish mother refuting otherwise. The fresh ginseng stuffed in the cavity of the chicken infuses the glutinous rice stuffed inside together.  The Cornish hens boiled for hours just falls apart with just a touch of a fork.   It came with a small shot glass of ginseng wine and perked my attitude up.  Completion of  DAY 1, my “Koreanaphobia” lessened just a notch or two.

Dongdaemun Market for some is the ultimate in shopping experience but I was not into cheap copies or wholesale buying.   For me, Jindo Fur store was what poor Mr. Kim was about to be dragged into for a whole afternoon.  My conscience for endangered species was not anywhere to be found.  I wanted a mink fur jacket.  Not a fox, not anything other than a mink to cover my shoulders. 

Mink jackets, mink stoles, mink coats, all shades were hung in racks upon racks in the vast warehouse.  I was the proverbial little girl in a candy store.   The entire afternoon slipped into a haze.  Mr. Kim was made of magnificent patience; he nodded off to sleep, shot himself up every now and again to sounds of ecstasy emanating from behind the fitting room. Decision made, payment selection made, I was ready for a new experience.

Jetlagged, mixed with red wine, and a full stomach, pointed only in one direction > sleep.  The inviting luscious bed of the Shilla Hotel, after a long working day and shopping afternoon, was tempting but my host was taking me to the NANTA show.

Sitting in the theatre waiting for the show to start, the sleepy haze effect I was fearing, was about to become my worst nightmare – my snoring habit was surfacing. It was so hard to keep awake.  Suddenly the drums started, I was about to witness the best show, bar any on Broadway NYC or Shaftesbury Avenue, London or Circe de Soliel, Vegas.

NANTA is the longest-running show in Korean history. In Korea it is performed in three theatres in Seoul as well as in one theatre on the island of Jeju.  The show’s back story of three cooks attempting to finish preparing a wedding banquet within a strict time limit while the manager installs his incompetent nephew among the kitchen staff. The performance involves acrobatics, magic tricks, comedy pantomime and audience participation. The unifying element throughout the musical is the use of traditional Korean samul nori music, which in this case in performed with improvised instruments, such as cutting boards, water canisters and kitchen knives. The performance is almost completely non-verbal.

I sat up completely spellbound with such originality.  The sheer creativity, in-sync, nonverbal, surpassing all culture, was when I deferred to their incredible society that I had originally dismissed.  

Here is where I found the true beginnings of  Korea and the Koreans I was privileged to see.  Their immense pride and nationalistic sentiments having achieved so much in the last fifty years is much to be proud of.   Selecting anything from their cars, airplanes, IT and cellular industry their fashion, cosmetic surgery industry, their TV soaps – they have committed to excellence.   Nationalistic pride is somehow missing in today’s emergence of borderless countries.  

I have only one major beef about the country.   The lack of warmth, of empathy, fallen through the cracks on their way up the abyss contributes to the freezing soul  in frozen Seoul.

U S R

USR is a polite term within the airline industry for FAT PAX

Normal Sized Passenger

FAT PAX is the hottest topic within the airline industry right now.  All abbreviations make me dizzy.   I never know what the heck they mean, and sometimes I pretend to comprehend, only to dig myself into a bigger hole.

Depending on where you are, what you do, USR can mean a whole range of things.  For example if you are in education, then USR could be Universities Statistical Records, or if you are in medicine, then it could easily be Ultra Sound Records.  If you are just like me, who loves to eat, travel and meet lovely people, this acronym has no relevance whatsoever until I was at the gate ready to board my plane from NYC to Atlanta.

Believe it or not this passenger is seated!

If you are deemed a “USR”  by a US airline, then there are only three choices left;  buy two seats, get de-planed or lose a massive amount of weight pronto.   USR in polite terms, means Unique Seating Required or in airline vernacular, Fat Pax.

Having  a relatively small, compact Asian physique, public transport of any kind has never hampered me in any way until I ventured into the nether regions of “inside” America, where food portions are ginormous, with subsequent results in obesity as the number one health problem in America.   I was wedged between two very large ladies.  In fact it must have looked ridiculous to the eye because the flight attendant was extra nice to me and tried to find a better seat to no avail.   My 2 hour flight could only be described as suffocating

Now I realize that some people will say that obesity is a genetic condition or a handicap, and it may well be, although the fact that the ranks of the obese in the U.S. grow year after year suggests that it's not (DNA doesn't mutate quite that quickly).

The idea of charging for two seats is fair.  But how about paying by weight.  All airlines have weight ratio problems, so this could help to calculate take-off weight crucial for any flight.  On another note, its a great way to keep trim.

When purse permits, business class is the preferred seat. Nevertheless even on some airlines, I feel short changed when my BC seat's only difference  is  a foot rest and a larger blanket.  

I have yet to pay an airfare that was value for money.  Even low cost has become less attractive when flying from Rome to Heathrow, I discovered that the sandwiches for sale at the beginning of the flight, gets 50% discount 20 minutes before landing.  On disembarking, the sandwiches lost its lustre became free for all.

For those extra large people, I do feel very sorry for their predicament.  Life must be hell whatever they have to undertake.  From the car they purchase, to the toilet they  have to carefully lower their bum without cracking the seat, I would not want to humiliate them further by having to weigh themselves before boarding. So airlines out there find a fair solution - I want good seats, plenty of leg room with only two in a row, crisp linen napkins, 2 or 3 different cuisines to choose from, pretty flight attendants, all packaged together in a low budget price.

Dream on........