Sans Something...

We arrived in Thailand with our passports, our children, our prescription medication, three checked suitcases and enough outfits to outfit us beyond what we needed for our eight day trip. We had sun cream and bug spray, underpants and favorite bedtime lovies. We had goggles and dive sticks, sun shirts and swim suits... that is swim suits for everyone but the tai tai. I was headed to a beach holiday sans swim suit and I could have cried. I remembered distinctly setting the pile down before pivoting and putting them into the case. There was something else the needed to be done, and a failed to return for my swim wear.

We wanted to take a long tail boat trip, to snorkel, to chill poolside and soak up the sun at our closer-to-the-equator-than-we-usually-are-in-October venue. What was I going to do?

At this point I think its important to interject this question... Have you ever seen a Thai person? I know a lot of Chinese people who are bigger than virtually everyone who offered me a smiley Sawatdee Kaa in Krabi!

Adding insult to injury, we had just overnighted in KL, a city of wonderful shopping with virtually everything available, and unlike other parts of Asia available in a variety of sizes.

However, it was not until we were in our airport transfer, with fresh cold juices and freezing cold, refreshing face cloths fashioned into cute flower shapes, that I made the discovery. With this knowledge I sat uncomfortably in my otherwise comfortable vantage point in a huge leather captain's chair and covered my face with a frozen cloth.

"Is there any shopping around here?" Mr. Johnson asked the driver hopefully.

He didn't speak English.

But, it didn't take a rocket scientist to discover that it was unlikely. We were passing open air fruit stands, Brahma bulls tied to stakes, free roaming chickens, entire families on motorbikes, taxi trucks laden with passengers installed on two simple planks in the bed of the truck.

We checked in the hotel. Were bowled over by the beauty. We appreciated the small scale of the complex that was boutique in style. Every detail seemed well attended. We learned their was an afternoon shuttle into a small town nearby that left at 4 pm.

"I'd like to make a shuttle reservation for five people." I said.

Four o'clock found us back in the large Toyota van bouncing towards a little city about 20 minutes from the hotel. We glimpsed elephants trampling through the forest in an designed for tourist "Elephant Treks." We saw the amphitheater for the Venom and Snake show. It was like the Asian version of the Wisconsin Dells... kitsch entertainment for tourists not wise enough to remain in their comfy resorts and enjoy the natural beauty around them.

We arrived in town where Mr. Johnson quickly split in search of a reputable Dive Shop (he found one... endorsed by National Geographic and PADI certified.) Being a wise woman and knowing I was facing insurmountable odds, I sent the littlest girls with him and recruited our oldest daughter and resident fashionista to help me on my search.

The downtown strip featured restaurants, grocery stores, hair salons, massage parlors, bars and trinket shops selling stuff made in China. Sunglasses, fake brands of t-shirts (everything from Ed Hardy to Starbucks was being knocked off.)

They also sold swimsuits.

Bravely I went forth. Tiny pieces of Lycra hung on plastic hangers. Bikinis bearing labels that read sizes M - XXXL. Upon closer inspection I determined that the suits were all the same size, just different tags. I'm not entirely sure they would have fit my daughter.

Undaunted I checked the next shop, where to my surprise I found an obviously used swim suit in a double digit size I believed would work.

"Sawatdee Kaa." I tried, using the singular piece of Thai vocab in my repertoire and hoping to garner some brownie points.

"Is there somewhere I can try this on?"

There was.

In the back corner of the swim suit stall was a bed sheet hung on a shower rod. It served as the changing room. (I think it is additionally important to add that after having lived in Asia this portion of the experience was not daunting. I have had to change behind a sheet whilst two people hold it up, and Mr. Johnson has been asked to try on trousers without any sheet at all.) What added a certain sense of surrealness, however, was the fact that Thai royalty, both past and present were framed and hung high on the wall above the changing corner. I hoped the presence of King Bhumibol and his predecessors was a good omen. I looked at the swim suit, sized it up, tried it on, and to my delight (as in, what-are-the-odds) it fit. Or was at least an approximation of a fit.

Pictures of the long tail boat, the island hoping, and snorkeling to follow. Pictures of the suit... not so much.