December 2003

(A nasty cyclone in The Philippines caused cool high winds during our Christmas in Ko Chang)

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It was a cool, windy Christmas Eve. Elenka and I were staying at a beach on the Thai island of Ko Chang in the Gulf of Siam, near the Cambodian border. Elenka had climbed into bed with a book and a hot water bottle around 9:00 p.m. I didn’t feel like reading and I wasn’t tired. So, at around 10 o’clock I decided to go for a skinny dip. The beach wasn’t more than 20 metres from our cabina. I looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear, then ran to the water. 

I’d left my glasses in the cabina for fear of losing them to the rough seas. While the air was way chillier than expected, the water was wonderfully warm — like a hot fudge and ice cream experience, I went into deep relaxation mode. To maintain my bearings, two, maybe three minutes later I looked towards our cabina and saw 20 of the damn things — all identical. It was our first night on Ko Chang and I suddenly realized I hadn’t bothered to study my surroundings. The current had taken me God knows how far down the beach. I swam to shore cursing myself for leaving my glasses behind, then crept up to the first cabina and squinted in the window. No Elenka. Second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth — she still wasn’t there. Fortunately, the chilly winds had kept most everyone inside, but I was becoming twitchy. What would I do if suddenly a flashlight was pointed at me by the property’s security? How would a naked peeping Tom explain himself to security guards who spoke no English? Then I peeped in the window of the seventh cabina and saw Elenka, flipping a page. I walked in shivering from the cold, crawled under the covers and grasped the hot water bottle and Elenka.