Kata Beach, Phuket -- Independence and lovely girlfriends aside, I was determined not to spend my birthday in the tidy island of Singapore. Good girlfriend and constant Sunday date Rach to the rescue, and my Phuket birthday weekend was born. The plan: a relaxing weekend of sun, swim-up bars, eight hours of sleep, good food and good wine. Just what the doctor ordered.
Day 1: We were bumped off our 8am flight and got transferred to a different airline, at a different terminal, 5 hours later. I am never flying Tiger again. I was "taking things in stride" when someone bumped into Rach's suitcase and crashed our two bottles of red wine. SGD 100 down the drain. Deep breaths, Justine. We finally arrive at the
Sugar Palm Resort & Spa which was every bit the boutique hotel I had hoped for (3,000THB/night/with breakfast). Things are looking up. Trudged to Patong for a fabulous Thai dinner (over ordered and overate, of course) and wandered around for a bar to party at. No such luck. Isn't this party central? Images of Clarke Quay come streaming in. Uh oh.
Day 2: We head off to the beach bright and early after brekkie and realise--everyone on the planet had the same idea! For those of you who have read that Kata is the less touristy area of Patong, you are sorely mistaken. Sigh. But alas the sun is out and we plop onto a pair of beach chairs (30THB/day). Aaah this is the life, time for some Chico Barque. Convinced that I'm sufficiently tan (insert Chit's voice reminding me not to get too dark), we head back to the hotel for our hot stone massages. Just add a cute boy and this could be heaven.
Birthday eve: Anyone going on holiday in Kata shouldn't pass up the chance to eat at
Mom Tri's Boathouse. Dinner was wonderful - scallops, fish, and creme brulee for dessert (hey no one said you could only have a birthday CAKE!). Expensive but worth it (SGD100/head/appetizers/entree/wine). It doesn't hurt that they sang for me and gave us 7 roses! After dinner highlights include: a shabby reggae beach bar, strangers getting up to dance with us (they probably got sick of watching two poor girls dancing by themselves), a whole bar singing happy birthday (to me!), fun Aussie chicks Jem and Julie, swinging 60 year olds from Jersey (the country), cute Jap boy with a penchant for posing, (cute) German birthday boy Max, a Chelsea futbol jersey, and an incident responsible for the title of this post. Boys and girls, listen to your momma and if after a bottle of vino, a couple of margaritas and five or so vodka seven-ups you can't, leave your valuables within arm's reach. Otherwise, the first voice you'll hear on the other end of a telephone line wishing you a happy birthday is a Citibank stolen card hotline operator--"Oh, happy birthday Ma'am." Indeed.
So that's it, I'm officially (gasp!) 29. Neither here nor there but definitely getting somewhere. Tough but will turn to a hopeless schmuck from time to time. Surrounded by good friends but missing the old ones dearly (biggest thanks to bestest girlfriends Bon, Rochie and Reese for sending love across the miles). Happy but wanting more. Living my life but wouldn't mind sharing it. In the meantime, as Reese so wisely reminds me, enjoying the moments. Like the ones involving kissing in the rain.
