And so after a hectic 24 hours of flying to Malaysia, late-night commuting to the hotel and a stressful morning at both the immigration office and our bank, it was time for some fun. Given Kuala Lumpur’s sweltering climate and lack of enjoyable walks, that means doing two things; eating and shopping. While Diane would be fine if she never ate Malaysian food again, I’m a huge fan of sambal chili paste (impossible to find in Thailand), laksa (even harder to find outside Malaysia and Indonesia) and beef rendang (the Southeast Asian Muslim world’s best culinary contribution). Thankfully, Diane’s memory towers over mine and she knew exactly where my favorite place to eat laksa was in the seventeen miles of mazes that make up life in downtown KL.
Regretfully, my stand became a western food place and Malaysia gets my vote for Southeast Asia’s worst version of all western food from burgers to ribs. Determined to eat laksa and nasi lemak (Malaysia’s national dish and Diane’s only choice for local food), we embarked on a quest but only had to take a few steps through Level UC of the mall named “Avenue K”. Possibly my favorite casual fast food restaurant in all of Malaysia, Ah Cheng Laksaserves one of the most flavorful and complex bowls of soup in Southeast Asia. According to their Facebook page, their origins date back over 56 years and one of the family members brought the unique family recipe to the Klang Vallery in 2004. For me, nothing beats a bowl of Asam Laksa, a sour fish and tamarind based soup. Its perfect combination of flavorful ingredients includes small mackerel of the Rastrelliger genus, and finely sliced vegetables including cucumber, onions, red chilies, pineapple, lettuce, common mint, Daun kesum (Vietnamese mint or laksa mint), and pink bunga kantan, also known as torch ginger. Normally served with thick rice noodles and topped with a thick sweet prawn shrimp paste, it’s spicy, sweet, salty and tastes like a piping hot combination of perfection.
Unlike the Thai, who spend countless sums of money on skin care products seeking eternal youth, I’ve never wanted to be young again. While I enjoyed my early adulthood, I’m thankful I was born before the age of online instant gratification, fake news, and modern-day right-wing propaganda. Despite my public school education in the debt-ridden 1970s when New York City was a cesspool of a city, we all still learned basic tenets of civics, history and current affairs; all of which are gone in this moron generation of Trump tweets and ignorance. Taught that America stands for freedom, democracy and all that’s good in the world, most of us grew up with a basic sense of patriotism. All of us understood there are three branches of the US government, knew what the first amendment was and believed our history teachers who taught us that we fought wars to spread democracy and fight evils like communism and fascism.
As we get older and perhaps more disheartened at a once mighty world leader sporting an ignoramus holding the nuclear codes, it’s easy enough to look back and yearn for “the good old days”. But unless you live in an overseas cave, expat life teaches you almost immediately that not everything they told you was true. In fact, sometimes it’s utter bullshit. Aside from obvious lessons like living in Malaysia and discovering that most Muslims could give a shit less about Americans and certainly don’t“hate us for our freedoms”, there’s a plethora of historical truths to unearth that I’d never know by staying in the homeland. As someone who loves learning and believes education shouldn’t stop when your work career ends, I’m always looking for travel experiences that fascinate but also drive home the message that history matters. While countless media stories explain why running the nation like a reality TV show is killing America’s future, nothing drives home a message like an in your face display of actual reality. And that’s why I’ll go on record as saying that Vietnam’s War Remnants Museumin Ho Chi Minh City is the most historically important museum in Southeast Asia.
Feeling much like the Vietnamese street vendor above, basic laziness kicked in when it came time to plan our recent trip to Vietnam. Bucking Experimental Expat tradition, we clamored over the big decision on how to plan the adventure and although Vietnam is both inexpensive and relatively easy to self-plan, we gave in and went with a customized private tour option. As one of the last places on our to-do list in Southeast Asia and knowing our time in the Eastern hemisphere is limited, we couldn’t decide between Hanoi and the north, Danang’s central beach region or the big city insanity of Saigon (nobody here calls it Ho Chi Minh City except the airlines so don’t correct me). So we gave in and let the experts at a German-based company come up with a regional vendor specializing in the area. While certainly not inexpensive, it’s easier than planning individual trips on planes, trains, and automobiles.
Clearly not the best or worst travel decision we’ve made since starting our experimental overseas early retirement, I’m 50/50 on booking a private tour for Southeast Asian destinations. While not quite good enough to endorse, it was very well organized. On paper, anyway. No strangers to private tours, we’ve had a host of professional guides enhance our best vacations with their expertise, great personality, and local knowledge. From rainforest expeditions in Borneo to wildlife viewing in Ecuador’s jungles, we’ve made lasting friendships with our guides and remain Facebook friends with all of them to this day. Usually taking Experimental Expat Destination Vacations where we’d combine bucket list hot spots with a potential future early retirement home, we often paid a premium when the income was still rolling in. And if you have the means, I’d highly recommend not skimping when it comes to specialized trips like our Galapagos Island trip on a luxury catamaran. But alas, things change drastically once you’re living on a fixed income and especially so when you’re potentially looking at a 40-year retirement. So I’ll focus a bit on the pros and cons of our Vietnamese guided tour.
They say getting there is half the fun. Given Thailand’s dubious status as the world’s most dangerous nation to drive, getting there alive seems more like a more reasonable suggestion. In a nation where 22,941 people die on the roads each year, you might call us crazy for logging almost 4,000 kilometers in this year’s annual “smog escape”. But here’s the thing; despite a surge of new vehicles by a population that spends six times their average lifetime savings to buy Honda Accords and triple that for a BMW, long-distance road travel remains relatively unknown to most Thai people. Unlike the USA, a nation obsessed with highways, driving is more about being seen in a shiny new status symbol than getting from point A to point B. And if you’re Thai and lucky enough to get spare time for seeing the country, why on God’s earth would you drive from Chiang Mai to Bangkok when you can simply fly in an hour?
Thankfully, that leaves most of the open road between major destinations empty and available for the farangs. And unlike America, whose crumbling bridges and aging highways lag the entire continent of Asia when it comes to infrastructure, Thailand recently made major improvements to national highways. Having embarked on a God awful bus trip from the south to Chiang Mai that arrived hours late due to a 300 mile stretch of one lane construction switchbacks only four years ago, we had reservations about taking a road trip. But surprisingly, except for the inevitable military junta of burning, wrong way motorbikes barrelling towards you in the shoulder and tin can pickups carrying shit piled up so high it’s comical, the newly paved stretch from Northern Thailand to Bangkok looks similar to Interstate 5 from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Deciding that we’d need 47 days to miss the ever increasing stench of poisonous toxic air permeating Northern Thailand every March and April, we planned a trip that started with a drive to Bangkok’s large international airport. Intending to leave the car in the long term lot, travel to Vietnam for two weeks and then traverse from southeast to southwest, we barricaded the house as best we could to protect it from mounds of soot that creep into the dwelling during burn season and hit the road.
Spending millions of marketing dollars on ways to relax, unwind and spend more quality time with loved ones, corporate America often implies we’d be happier if we only had more free time. As one who’s now spent almost 24 hours of every day with their spouse since our Experimental Early Overseas Retirement, allow me to clarify things. Having been plunged into our situation thanks to my unexpected layoff, one of the first things you’ll learn is too much “quality time” together often leads to bickering. After four years, neither of us has embarked on a new career, pursued higher education, started a business or even had an epitome of “the next great thing”. While that’s not really bothered us because it’s allowed us to travel, cook fresh meals, spend time with friends and stay fit through walking, swimming, and the gym, it inevitably leads to the occasional argument.
While we love being together, our personalities are quite different and this often leads to clashes. For instance, I get irked about stupid shit in developing nations like incompetence in retail supermarket inventory and supply chains. Often asked about what’s different in Asia compared to North America, I respond by talking about bread. Considering how many choices are in North America from 12 grain to dark rye and dozens of artisan varieties, I often get frustrated how hard it is to find a good loaf of bread in Thailand. (Or Malaysia). Before being ripped by the non-North American expat crowd, let me explain something. It’s not that there’s no bread here; Europeans eat lots of bread. And to me it all sucks. Dry, hard and almost always tasteless compared to a delicious ciabatta, fresh hot loaf of San Francisco sourdough or a classic New York Italian hero bread, all the bread in Chiang Mai the expats rave about is about as appetizing to me as a piece of Hardfiskur (with apologies to Icelanders that enjoy dry salted fish).
With my blog hiatus over, you may recall I mentioned three major issues in the lives of The Experimental Expats that ended my writer’s block. Mentioning we’d be leaving Thailand next year for our third destination since the experimental overseas early retirement began, I spoke about a significant announcement from the Thai Immigration Bureau. Initially only affecting citizens of several countries who use“income affidavits”to extend their visas on the basis of retirement (Thai speak for what normal nations call retirement visas), I promised I’d write more about the changes in upcoming posts and had every intention of doing so today. But then I realized that Thailand has the world’s most retarded, tedious and ass-backward system of immigration known to mankind and writing about the rules usually ends up turning into a 2,000 word diatribe that the average reader couldn’t stay focused on if the Royal Family themselves was writing it.
Mind you, diminishing the importance of the changes isn’t my intent either because while I try to maintain a lighthearted but brutally honest storytelling style and leave the technical stuff to the experts, I’d be remiss by not at least letting you know what’s going on. So let’s approach this from a different angle where I’ll explain the immigration crap later. First, let’s talk about moving from Southeast Asia. Leaving Thailand, and, in fact, Asia itself, is a very bittersweet topic for both of us. Despite being 26 flight hours away and requiring three separate airplanes to get back to North America, Thailand provides a unique combination of security, entertainment, and financial advantages you simply can’t get in other countries.
Well, that’s a fair enough question. What the hell ever happened to The Experimental Expats? Realizing it’s been almost a year since sharing anything other than Facebook rants and complaints about Trumpland USA with a few non American friends, I’ve decided to come back and answer that question. But first, my middle age rant about technology and how much I hate it. Having spent a large part of my scathingly longHouse Husband Days learning how to create, fashion and keep a WordPress blog updated, wouldn’t you know those bastards had the audacity to create an updated editor? Shuddering, panicking and almost running back into the unusually brutal Northern Thailand heat (more on that later), I decided to give “Block Editing” a shot. After discovering a fluke in my site that the Happiness Engineers first denied, then admitted needed to be turned over to the developers, I spent two days self tutoring so here I am again and to any millennials who think my posting is old and archaic for lack of fancy code, Jetpack shit or anything else besides actual words; Too Bad.
Feeling like we fell into a mode of real complacency after our trip back to North America, the hiatus felt necessary. Realistically, our lives as middle-aged early retirees living overseas aren’t great fodder for a digital world with two-minute attention spans. We don’t have “second careers”, haven’t gone back to school, opened a business or learned a new language (OK, we speak “nit noy“ Thai). Not yet finding “the next great thing”, we don’t even have Instagram accounts. Living here in Chiang Mai among the worlds’ biggest group of obnoxious expats anywhere on social media and the “digital gonads” who know everything about every topic, it seemed reasonable to take a long blog vacation until something worth writing about came along. Realizing that time is here now, I’ll share three significant things relevant to our little blog. I’ll cover one of the three issues in this post and come back to the other two later.
Thailand’s Immigration Department made significant changes to the rules for extending visas based on retirement.
The “burning season” which is a long period in the dry season that local farmers across Northern Thailand burn their fields has now turned into an environmental disaster so serious it requires more than the 47 days we escaped this year to avoid inhaling seriously dangerous particulates.
As a result of the above two issues, we’ve decided five years in Southeast Asia will be enough and we’re leaving Thailand for greener pastures in Mexico next summer.
Wondering why retired people with no job waiting for them back home would experience jet leg, let me go on record and dispel a myth. Despite not having any schedule other than deciding what and when to eat, sleep and leave the house, our body’s natural rhythm known as “the body clock”doesn’t care nor understand you were laid off almost five years agoand chose an experimental overseas early retirement. Having returned from our excruciatingly long North American jaunt that totaled just over 34 hours and landed us in our living room just under two full days after leaving, I learned that losing an entire day due to time differences and trans-continental flights catches up to you no matter how much you sleep on the planes. Attempting a return to my rather “anal”routine, it took until the third morning until I finally felt rested. Which leads me into my segment on our choice to spend almost a thousand extra bucks for “premium economy”. Throughout this post, I’ll include pictures showing what you get for your extra money on Cathay Pacific Airlines.
The Cathay Pacific Premium Economy seat
Having returned to Chiang Mai during the off-peak months when the rainy season blues are in full swing, I noticed my first post after a two month layoffgarnered little fanfare compared to my historical numbers despite having somehow picked up dozens of new followers even without posting any new content. Realizing I’m not the interactive type, this doesn’t surprise me but I’d like to at least feel like somebody besides me gives a crap (or even enjoys) my style of slightly off beat cynical yet realistically optimistic expat tales, so instead of spending all the gloomy days in the coffee shop playing Words with Friendsand pretending to practice speaking Thai, I’ll put off the morning walks on non-workout days and focus on getting more content out there. Thankfully, I did go to a gym once in both Edmonton and Calgary which is ambitious for a “vacation” so hitting the weights again was easier than returning from our recent springtime escape from the Chiang Mai Burning Season.
Despite having five days in between our real beach vacation in Koh Lanta and our one month escape from the unhealthy shitty air that defines Chiang Mai every year like clockwork, I’ve been very remiss with my posts so please accept my apologies. Having just arrived in a small sleepy beach town called Bangsaphan that’s literally three hours from the nearest big tourist area, we’re settling into our two huge bedroom 1,700 square foot house that we’ll call home for a month. Astoundingly priced on AirBnbat about $20.41 USD a day and deeply discounted if you stay 30 days, the house is large, airy and comfortable. Having taken two days to drive 1,150 kilometers, it’s time to chill out in an area with lots of places they call “beach resorts”but realistically most of them are very mediocre two or three star at best. A perfect place to really relax without the crowds, this town isn’t exactly a place you’ll see on any Travel Channeldocumentary that features Thailand’s beach destinations. And that’s just fine by us.
So given my degree of laziness at the moment, I’ll break from the usual story telling format after making a few key points about Northern Thailand during “burning season” and telling you a bit about Koh Lanta. Not yet high on the list of top beach destinations in Thailand, it’s an island that still maintains a bit of rustic charm and simplicity while offering countless less expensive accommodation options for all budgets. Known for a hosting a huge number of Swedes (mostly in the north), the island has about six distinct regions each with different vibes and suited for different groups of visitors. Staying during the mid-season, we saw mostly strangely quiet French and German tourists both young and old, families and a smattering young couples. Most importantly, the skies were blue, there’s no agricultural burning and during dry season, every sunset looks like this.
One of my favorite song lyrics during the dreaded working years was from the Canadian band Loverboy; “Everybody’s working for the weekend”. Unfortunately, this is even more true in the developing world where many people work six days a week and leisure time is highly coveted. While Northern Thailand offers a cornucopia of beautiful scenic spots for relaxing, hiking and enjoying nature, the local population likes these beautiful spots as much as expats and tourists. Thankfully, Monday mornings change from crappy to glorious when you no longer need to jump out of bed at 4:20 AM to catch a 5:15 commuter train and everyone else’s work day becomes your quiet time. Having so far lived through four months of heavy rain, dreaded heat and humidity and a strange month of dead sky overcast that looked ominously similar to our disastrous experience with Penang’s worst haze in twenty years, the beginning of this year was a glorious month of perfect weather in Chiang Mai.
Typical Thai motorbikers
Looking and feeling more like Canadian summer days, it’s hard to believe the difference and with temperatures moderating to a comfortable range of 16 to 27 Celsius, January presents a perfect opportunity for day tripping. So we always wait for the least crowded weekday and hop in our 2011 grey Nissan Tiida that we bought from ExpatAuto.com for under $10,000 USD. Unwilling to risk our lives with an entire population of motorbike riders that do stupid stunts often worthy of an extreme sports competition, we highly recommend sticking to four wheels, especially if you’re unfamiliar with That traffic laws. Yes, that was sarcasm. The only rules on Thailand’s roads are do whatever’s most convenient (like riding against traffic on major four lane roads to avoid driving an extra half mile to the U-turn), make sure you put the entire family on one motorbike (including infants and don’t bother with helmets) and most importantly, make sure any accidents you cause involve farangs because it’s always their fault in the eyes of the Thai law.