Discovering home...

Last week while being whisked up to the green peaks of Luang Prabang in Laos with the company I work for and then down to the mystical ruins surrounding Siem Reap in Cambodia, I happened to stumble on my ideal home.

Before this pinnacle moment though I had been spending 5 days in 5-star luxury, of which one hotel out of three was still under construction, while trying in vain to fight against my inner sloth by keeping my days as active as possible, certain that the fluffy white bed with its mountain of fluffy white pillows would swallow me and the great book I was reading if I didn't.

Hotel De La Paix in Siem Reap.

So my schedule loosely revolved around such activities like: eating breakfast, attending meetings that deeply delved into the world of hotels (mind you I was not really needed for this nor had I any idea what was being discussed half the time but it was interested on an observational point of view) eating a delightful choice of either Laotian, Western or Cambodian cuisine for lunch, going for a little wander into local shops or the hotels pool in the afternoons or attending a few other meetings with the hoteliers or my book, considering a serious physical workout before realizing it was dinner time and finally dining with my hand glued to my wine glass while periodically reflecting, in between conversations, on a circle of thoughts that including what desert I would eat, why the hotel service staff were so uber friendly and who was the mysterious killer in Kafka on the Shore by Murikami.

Yes... it had all been running quite peaceful in Hotel De La Paix when I was struck with the jolt of desire again, and we're not talking a little static electricity caused by carpet - this was a lightning bolt moment that beckoned every cell in my body saying, Yes! Want it.

It was the last day before our return to Bangkok and we were in Siem Reap, Cambodia, home to the great Angkor temple. The team of well fed hoteliers and I decided to go on an excursion out to some of the temples. Packed into the bus for only ten minutes we arrived to my new desire. Nestled in the jungles and flooded with tourists at 8 in the morning was the temple Ta-Prom.  

Upon gazing at this wonderful sight through heavy draped eyes it wasn't until I stumbled into the ruins that my desire enflamed. There before us (and three bus loads of Chinese) was a 200 year old tree growing on top of 12th Century architecture. I want a house with a tree growing on top, I could hear myself saying. Only I wouldn't want the spiders and bugs or the design layout of the temple (mayhem) and it would need a little work but I didn't care, I thought as I contemplated where I would put my bed.

I guess love really knows no boundaries or it has 8/20 vision.

This would be the kitchen over-looking the courtyard.

Being All Woman.

My father once told me "if you can drive in the city (Melbourne) for five years and not have an accident Tanya, than you'll be a good driver." Remembering his statement, I recently applied it with a slightly different interpretation when I started to morph into a woman; the type of woman complete with killer heels, manicured nails and the unnatural obsession with her hair out of place; in my case it puffs out as frizzy as an afro the moment I step out of the air-conditioner's range.

But let's back-track a second first... I want you all to understand that although I am An Australian Woman Abroad, I have never really looked like this kind of woman previously mentioned. At twenty nine years old, before living in Bangkok actually, I had never owned a pair of high heels, gave a stuff about the birds nest on top of my head, or thought for one second that I couldn't do what every man could do in my converse runners. There were times of course where this was contradicted, but for the most part I was like a cockatrice, only part boy, part girl, part animal and part rubbish.

Yet since I am now the proud owner of three divine pairs of high heels and looking for the most part, better than usual, I realized that if I could master walking in my ten centimeter stilts within these wrinkled pavements of Bangkok without putting myself in hospital than I'll be able to walk anywhere in heels.

The greatest test came recently when I slipped off to Ko Samui for the weekend. For most who don't know, this island in the gulf of Thailand was the 'greatest' test because seven years ago I came to Ko Samui with my sister and while walking on the sidewalk, which ran alongside the beach, I fell in a hole of coral - in flat shoes. I shredded my leg and cried like a baby goat. So of course, I had my reservations about wearing heels.

On the second day, I was told that I was going out to dinner in an upscale restaurant on the north coast of the island. Excited as I was to look the part and taste Zazen's cuisine, a name that had been ringing in my head the whole day, I was dubious about experiencing one of those 'ass-over-tit' kind of moments in public. Anyway fears aside, all went well for the most part, we enjoyed an incredible selection of appetizers, complimented with some N.Z Pinot Gris when I suddenly had the call for the bathroom. Having downed two glasses of wine and about three glasses of water already, I couldn't wait for a stable arm to guide me on the boardwalk, so off I went.
Being all woman and swinging my hips, (the only way to walk in high heels I worked out) got me stuck like a Queensland fly up a nose, right in-between two planks of wood, which for your information was a gap that was the exact width size of my heel. Luckily I didn't go far. I just tap danced around on one foot, aware that if anyone turned the corner they would have a nice snap shot of one divinely clunky woman.

Guess it will take a bit more time and a few more adventures to metamorphose into a real live woman... let's pray it's not some wilder beast that emerges instead.