It's been seven weeks since we left behind Bangkok--the noodle shops, the meat on a stick, the cheap massages and the world's most beautiful pool. We headed to Chiang Mai and I swore I'd keep up with the blog--my journal for the family--but we landed there, were handed cold towels and cool water bottles and taken to a small hotel in a village called Rimping with free bikes and a make-your-own cappuccino machine at the breakfast buffet. Two blocks away was a local market that sold, among other things, live frogs and snakes in large plastic tubs covered with nylon nets so they couldn't jump or slither out. The exotic surprises and the small unexpected distractions started in earnest.
Sitting at my computer, which isn't actually a computer but the awful little screen of my iPhone with its miniscule keyboard and obnoxious autocorrects (summer, due to some combination of keystrokes, always gets changed to smear). So I left it all behind and just enjoyed the moment. Which for me is hard to do. So here we are--seven weeks later having moved through Thailand, Laos and Cambodia--in Bali on the vacation's last week, in a villa more gorgeous than I could ever imagine. No one is leaving. There's nothing we need to do anymore but relax and look back on this life-changing adventure we've had since June 13. Now it's catch up time. Why not do it here overlooking the Bali Sea?
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