Buckets of vodka and breasts like weapons
I was young until I went to Ko Phi Phi. I was young with cups of čai on Turkish wharves, and the same when I danced in Lithuanian discotheques. But faced with buckets of vodka and twerking on Phi Phi’s shores, I felt old. I wanted to go to bed, if only those darn kids would turn their music down. You kids need condoms, I need ear plugs.
Once it was late enough not to feel like a complete loser, I went back to my room, where a book waited for me, thinking again “I should have started traveling 10 years earlier.” And “As long as I didn’t get spiderwebs tattooed on my elbows.”

I hope this fella never sees this blog. We’re all young, bro, but self-congratulatory tattoos? Joder.
But Thai blue water is Thai blue water and karst cliffs are undeniable, so I stayed another grandfatherly day to hike around the island. The first few minutes had “Dude, bro…” and “OMG, I was like, so shitfaced last night!” but soon I heard only leaves and patient wind, birds and insects. Jungles have a way of filling the world, barricading you from everything outside, capable of blocking even the most insipid house music.
In the green alleys I felt removed from that party-soaked island, which itself seemed distant from SE Asia. I wanted to escape the former, and return to the latter. I’d catch a boat tomorrow, but for now, was I still even in Thailand? As far as I could tell, this island was about as Asian as Cancun is Mexican.
The verdancy relaxed into something like a clearing, where a woman was waiting for me. She had excellent posture, and the dark red cloth of her top was pushed into a shelf by mythic breasts with nipples like missiles. Realization that it was a statue came with a side order of relief, followed by a pause. Recalled from my whining dissatisfaction with the beach party scene, with its excess, superficiality, and inaccessibility, I stood and looked at her as raindrops began to fall on my warm shoulders, her cold ones, and the gifts and offerings spread around her.
Incense drifted among the orchids, a candle burned safely under glass, and a pair of luscious apples stood close at her hand, beside a glass of clear water and a can of ubiquitous coke. Not exactly Shwedagon Pagoda, she was still a moment of calm, a gesture towards the supernatural/spiritual, and I decided with a smile that I was still in Asia after all, as the monsoon began in earnest.
Ko Phi Phi remains in my mind as a great destination…for youngsters. But even in that place of mechanical bulls and automatic bullshit, beautiful moments popped up: like the open-sided hut of hammocks where I waited out the rain, and the abandoned beach at morning tide that showed no ill will toward past or future festivities. If I came away fond of Ko Phi Phi, I can’t wait to see what happens in Cambodia.
Cambodia was the winner of my last poll and my lady and I will be there in less than three weeks. We don’t have as much time as I’d like (shocking), but if y’all have any Cambodian recommendations, I’d love to hear them.
(And just in case you thought I was exaggerating? These things? Weapons.)
Great story! Those nipples could definitely poke someone’s eyes out😄 Your description of Koh phi phi is just brilliant.
I love Thailand for its simple ways and smiling faces. Can’t wait to get back there 😊
Haven’t been to Cambodia but I think you now that Angkor Wat is a must. Can’t wait to see the photos and hear the stories. Enjoy 😁
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I semi-accidentally didn’t see the best parts of Thailand, but still know what you mean about the smiling faces. It’s a great country, and I hope to experience Cambodia a little better. And thank you in advance for reading the stories, which I look forward to telling y’all!
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I loved this, backpacking in my 30s has seen me have more than a few, “is it totally lame to go to bed now? I don’t care if its lame I am going to bed” nights, while I let the 20 somethings party on!
Enjoy Cambodia, have you been there before? I was there years and years ago, Sianhanookville was my favourite.
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I haven’t been before, no. Sianhanookville? Sounds good. See you at the over-30 table, one of these countries… At around, say, 8:00?
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The title of this post caught my eye to ask you a question about something I wrote on my own blog. You sometimes say I could be more sex-positive on the blog, And I recently wrote something that you may feel is in keeping with the critique, posing this question: Which is more intimate? Handholding or a hand job?
Not surprisingly, I think that sex is more intimate than handholding. And I wrote a bit about why plenty of women don’t enjoy non-ntimate sex.
But happy and as the post I asked for people to offer their own thoughts if they disagreed with me. I’m curious because I don’t understand how people who do and enjoy casual sex deal with this question:
How do you feel comfortable with what I experience as “aloof intimacy” — two concepts which to me don’t seem to go together? How do you experience becoming so physically intimate as to enter someone else’s body, or have your body entered, or fondled, while maintaining a sense of emotional remoteness? How does that work for you?
Especially when probably all of us have grown up in a society that teaches us that we have our “private parts.” We grow up learning that and then suddenly those private parts are just opened up to anyone? I don’t mean to sound judgmental (although I realize it may come across that way). I just don’t get it, and I’m trying to understand.
If you would like to comment either here or on my blog, I would much appreciate getting some input.
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Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply, I keep waiting until I have a proper moment, but it doesn’t seem to come.
I conceptually applaud women for embracing the idea of “aloof intimacy” in the sense that it’s a (roundabout) step towards dissolving our gender stereotypes, just as I applaud men for questioning its appeal. For me, it’s yet another case of letting each person decide their own opinion, and determine their own experience of it, unpressured by gender roles or expectations. If you want to view hand holding as more intimate: go for it! If you want to view intercourse as the ultimate sanctity: go for it!
As for “private parts”, I see that much the same way. Everyone has a right to their privacy, and bodily….let’s say…safety? Only being touched when, where, and by whom they choose. But by the same token, I endorse everyone’s right to determine their own privacy setting, so to speak. (Too much facebook in our lingo, these days!) If someone wants to dance around and let people caress them? I wholeheartedly endorse it. If someone wants to maintain an ironclad bubble of personal space? I endorse that too. (Though I doubt it’s psychologically healthy.) I think most folks fall somewhere between the two, in that luscious gray area.
I’m rambling, and hungry, and could talk about this for hours, so I’ll leave it at that. Thank you for your blogs, and keep the discussions coming!
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Thanks. Hope you don’t mind if I quote you on that (and link back to your blog).
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Don’t mind at all, I just wish I’d phrased it more coherently, now!
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