I have scaled back on concerns and staticky trash talk mind chatter. I wish the missus were with me, but she couldn't get the time off. Forget about long stemmed dog house roses. Nothing will parole a man from the dog house quicker than taking out a million dollars accidental death traveler's insurance policy and promising to make an effort to walk a thin line between somethingness and nothingness.
My extreme adventuring is getting off to a slow start.
Last night a monsoon shower made a muddy creek out of the road leading to my friend's rented villa where I am sharing a room with a frog, a gecko and a spider or two. The panting, whop, whop, whop of the ceiling fan nearly caused me to have a Vietnam-movie Post Theatrical Released Stress Disorder flashback. I had more than a couple Martin Sheen moments last night, sweating and tossing about in the un-air conditioned room.
Today I managed to rent a motorcycle and so I can go where I please. In Siem Reap that means you go past the round about, over the bridge, dodge traffic for eight blocks turn around at the HSBC building and head back across the bridge.
I kicked my adventure up a notch a few hours ago.
This rainy afternoon I had my first manicure and pedicure. I sat with my feet in some khmeress's lap while she cut, clipped, filed, and scrubbed my twenty digits. After making sure my toenails were in tip-top sandal exposure shape, and that I still had enough thumbnail left to scratch my fever'd brow, I paid her boss ten bucks, tipped her two bucks and wondered if the tip was too much or not enough. She was my first. Her name is Nok Neen. I will never forget her.
Next week, I will go to Van Vieng, Laos and kayak. Then white water raft. Then head into the hills for some rock climbing. I will eco-trek. I will float on inner tubes while spelunking through dank, forbidding Van Vieng caves. And if per chance I do accidentally come to nothingness, my insurance policy will ship back to Dubai a box stamped "human remains" where a grieving newly minted millionaire widow will have to figure out if I'm to have a Muslim funeral (wrap the slab o'meat in a sheet and toss it in an unmarked hole in the desert) or use a small portion of the loot to have me cremated, as per my wishes stated here, and have those ashes scattered along Route 66 just outside of Albuquerque.