Lazy travel

Bangkok really is an amazing hub. We arrived on Saturday afternoon, and I finally understand what Ariz means when he tells me this is a dirty, disgusting, beautiful city. There is nothing but smiling, hospitable people here, skyscrapers shooting up from filthy, colourful houses and shacks, like the pioneers in the Amazon rainforest, with the resort we’re staying at right on the river having wonderful views, wonderful rooms, and delicious, delicious... food. Uh-oh, here we go. So far, we’ve had Thai, Italian, and Hawaiian meals, and the hotel does not disappoint; they’re so filling, so tasty and yummy and oh my, I must have some of this and that and this, that it’s impossible to say no. 

“Oh, the Italian chef does a traditional pasta carbonara? I’ll have that one, thank you very much. And a bottle of Prosecco, please.” 

I’m in total holiday mode, and there’s nothing harder, nothing more inexplicably difficult, than working out when you’re on holiday. Sure, you can tell yourself that the walking and the seeing and the eating are all activities on par with a good session at the gym. But you’d be lying. They’re not. So on Sunday morning, on a very optimistic - almost naïve, I’d say - spur of the moment, Ariz and I decided to go to the gym. And we did. For twenty whole minutes I managed ten minutes on the treadmill and two sets of my different kinds of sit-ups, before we figured that it was time for the Chatuchak market. Guess what they have at the market? Food! Amazing, glorious street food; marinated pork straight off the grill and fried bananas so sweet you could swear you must’ve died and gone to heaven. Then when you come back to the hotel, you’re tired, of course, from the seeing, and walking, and eating, and you have to rest. 

Now, I’m not by any means implying that you should simply stay at the hotel when you’re on holiday. That would be the pinnacle of stupidity. I do, however, think that it’s on journeys just like this one you very easily can end up going completely back to scratch on lots and lots of hard work at the gym. I’m still going to enjoy my raspberry sorbet dessert, and the odd chocolate croissant at the beautiful hotel buffet, of course. But today we went to the gym again, and somehow, it gets me more energised, more excited, and more balanced than I am when I don’t go. So I suppose it’s a symbiotic thing; you do some sit-ups in the morning, and then you have some ice cream while walking through centuries-old, marvellous architecture in the afternoon. It’s just like Bangkok: win-win.