Author: kerdryden

I am a Planner. It’s what grounds my otherwise impractical personality (comprising the rarest Myers-Briggs, shout out INFJ), what drives my obsession to fill endless notebooks, and what has guided me to a career managing creative projects. Planning for travel is just as enjoyable to me as the travel itself: I mine food blogs, Google translate reviews, and order specialty books. But for a long weekend in Phuket, Thailand—just days after I arrived to Singapore—I went in completely blind, and was the better for it.

Back when I was in New York and Andrew was in Singapore, he called to say that there was an opportunity for him to attend a digital media conference in Phuket. (I am seriously in the wrong line of work.) I thumbed to the Phuket section of my already worn Lonely Planet and told him that the island, full of pricey resorts and tourist traps, wasn’t recommended even for us flashpackers. He countered that the conference was at a five-star resort on the beach… and afterwards, we’d been invited to join in on a staffed villa with some of his colleagues for the weekend.

Twist my arm, already.

The conference was held at The Slate (formerly Indigo Pearl) on Nai Yang beach. It’s on the northern part of the island, which is both convenient to the airport and less sleazy than most of Phuket. The flight is just an hour or so from Singapore, but the differences were apparent immediately: three people to a motorbike on the road, stray dogs running everywhere, armed guards at the resort gate. This whole trip felt a little surreal, though I’m sure my jetlag played a factor.

It was both monsoon season in Thailand and the middle of the week when we arrived, which meant that the beautiful, spacious resort was almost empty. Conference attendees ran to sessions under huge umbrellas while I sat on our balcony and watched the rain turn on and off like a faucet—the most intense downpours I’ve ever seen.

While Andrew was at meetings the first two days, I worked from the room, prepared for the million things I needed to do when we got back to Singapore, and explored the funky little beach town outside the palace walls. I don’t mind being alone, but the famous Thai hospitality eased any awkwardness I felt about being an interloper at a conference. The resort staff brought me plates of fruit and other treats, and arranged for me to take a yoga class as well as enjoy a jetlag-busting Thai massage. The 90 minute treatment in their outrageous spa (one building was literally a giant basket on stilts) was followed by a full tea service and cost less than a Park Slope mani-pedi. Suddenly moving to Southeast Asia seemed like a great idea.

Another highlight was spontaneously joining a Thai cooking class organized for the conference attendees. I think people genuinely got a kick out of meeting the American wife who had never been to Asia before, and I was offered opinions on everything from the best local discount airlines to how to eat a durian (with your fingers). While there are plenty of Aussies, Brits, and to a lesser degree French and Dutch expats living in Southeast Asia, Americans are less common. Of course a favorite topic for everyone we meet this fall has been American politics, and many SEA locals and expats alike are fully informed about the US presidential election. (Could I name the Prime Minister of Australia before moving here? No, I could not, though for everyone’s benefit, it’s Malcolm Turnbull.)

The sun finally came out on Friday afternoon—just in time for me to snap a few photos of the resort. Let’s pretend it looked this this all week. Luckily, it stayed nice for the rest of the weekend.

Conference wrapped, we relocated to a villa nearby with a group of fellow Singapore-based expats. The weekend was organized by Andrew’s college friend Wen, who also recently relocated to Singapore from NYC. Wen and her boyfriend Tai moved a few months ahead of us, and have been invaluable for their advice, introductions, and excellent company.

Like the resort, the Phuket villa was essentially a concrete compound on the outside but spacious and pretty on the inside. Rooms surrounded an open kitchen, courtyard, and saltwater pool. Best of all, the very affordable rental came staffed with a maid/cook and butler, who helpfully took on everything for the group from grocery runs to dishes to booking taxis—the sort of logistics that take up most of the weekend with a group rental. One could get used to this.

Friday night was spent getting to know one another over a late dinner at a casual local spot right on Nai Yang beach, chairs and tables in the sand. The fresh, flavorful Thai food everywhere we went did not disappoint, though it is very true that “mild” means spicy and “spicy” means inedible to Westerners. This dinner was also my first time trying my new favorite dessert, ripe bananas in a hot soup of coconut milk.

After breakfast at the house and a morning swim on Saturday, the house staff arranged for motorbikes so that we could get out explore the island. I was more than content to ride on the back of Andrew’s bike. It turned out to be the best way to see Phuket, which has numerous winding, hilly coastal roads that offer spectacular views and take you through small villages away from the main highway. We spent the entire day riding along the beaches, stopping for a dip and a coconut, jumping back on the bikes, and repeating.

It was the first time I had really seen local life outside of a city or resort in SEA, and there was so much to take in that now seems much more familiar to me: entire families balanced on one motorbike, glass bottles of gasoline for sale on the side of the road, chicken, geese, and dogs running everywhere, shrines adorned with flowers, cigarettes, and Fanta bottles, and vendors on the beach offering massages, fruit, trinkets, and beer. Kids waved to us and people would come out of their houses to ask if we were lost if we stopped the bikes to regroup.

A BBQ dinner back at the house capped off the long and hot but invigorating day, and we flew out early the next morning. This trip was definitely a teaser reel for Thailand, and I can’t wait to come back to explore more of this country. The beaches are of course spectacular—and I’m still in awe that they are a mere hour or so away from me—but I especially want to travel up to Northern Thailand. To be continued!

The period in between our decision to move to Southeast Asia and the travel I primarily want to write about wasn’t the stuff that exciting blog posts are made of. Given the timing for our lease, we had to nervously move out of our apartment before Andrew’s new contract was signed. He then abruptly flew to Singapore in early June while I moved in with a friend, all the while pretending that things were normal at work. (“Nothing much, how was your weekend?!”)

For the rest of the summer I lived out of a suitcase, wrapped up at work, and planned an international move. Conversations with Andrew were rapid-fire logistics sessions while I ran to the subway in the morning. There were low moments. After an epic day of moving my stuff out of Brooklyn and white-knuckling a car with taped-on mirrors through cross-Bronx traffic, I made it to my parent’s house in New Jersey only to realize that I was locked out, and they were in Florida.

These long, anxious days of phone calls with banks and Googling “how to sell a car poor condition” were made better not just by my incredible friends, family, coworkers, and long-distance husband, but also by the knowledge that the first stop on the way to Singapore would be Vancouver Island.

Andrew’s uncle Kevin and aunt Joan live in Comox, and we’d had this trip planned with both of our families for almost two years. Rather than cancel the reunion, we decided to make the most of our existing plan and reunite in Vancouver, using the vacation as a time to say bon voyage to our families.

After packing up my two suitcases and a backpack (!) and hopping on a plane at Newark, my parents and I arrived late on a Friday night in Vancouver. Andrew had arrived earlier in the day via Hong Kong, and his parents and godmother had come up from Northern California. We had really hoped for my brothers to join on this trip as well, but sadly, the timing didn’t work out. I am the weakest link of the Rakowski siblings when it comes to the great outdoors (also in the hard sciences, musical ability, and homebrewing, among many other things), but I tried to do them proud.

We spent the first full day sight-seeing in Vancouver, a city I’d traveled through a few times on the way to Whistler Blackcomb for skiing, but never explored. It seemed very liveable and picturesque, though the traffic was awful. I spent the day walking around the marina and exploring Stanley Park with my jet-lagged husband and his family, while my parents went to the gorgeously renovated Museum of Anthropology to check out the totems. They pretty much haven’t stopped talking about how great it was, so I need to check that out next time.

The next morning, the whole crew woke up early to catch the ferry to Nanaimo and caravan to Comox. I have a rather checkered history with travel by ferry, but the Straight of Georgia was calm and I spent most of the time trying to spot orca (no dice). On the drive up to Comox, our car made a stop at Cathedral Grove to see old-growth forest. Some of the largest trees are just a short walk from the road, which made for a perfect travel break. After finally reaching Comox, we arrived at the lovely Red Propeller Guest House and found that it was next door to a lama and alpaca farm. How did this go unmentioned in the VRBO listing?! I was in heaven.

Oh also, there was a view.

At dinner that night, we all discussed a game plan for the week, mostly based on Joan’s suggestions– she’s an island native and knows all the best secret fishing holes. I also want to take a moment to acknowledge that Joan is the coolest person I’ve ever met, though I’m biased as she’s a fellow Dryden “outlaw.” Joan’s a pint-sized expert angler, drinker of whiskey, outdoorswoman, and EMT. I was completely sold on this entire trip to Vancouver Island when we met the weekend of my wedding.

The next day was rainy and cool, but we decided to press on with our plan to go salmon fishing in the north island like a bunch of hard-boiled locals (though only Joan fell into that category). A couple hours of driving north brought us to the stunning Eve River, where the pinks were jumping, but sadly not biting. We did see about five bald eagles, which was exciting enough for me. A more intrepid crew returned later in the week and not only had better luck fishing, but spotted some bears on the shoreline including a cub.

We spent that night in Kevin and Joan’s cabin near Elk Bay, which is to say, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. We were hours from the nearest town and THEN a full hour down dirt logging roads (20 clicks, according to Joan). Most people only access this area by boat or sea plane. It was absolutely awe-inspiring to be somewhere so remote and peaceful. We ate our consolation pork chops (no salmon) around a campfire and watched the lights from cruise ships glide up the straight.

The next few days were spent back in Comox, where we watched the Olympics, picked berries, went on beach walks, grilled on the patio, and harassed the llamas next door. Andrew and I also spent a memorable morning mountain biking with Kevin and Otis WhitePaw in Cumberland. Let’s just say I stuck to the roads, and even then, was covered in bruises. I’d like to try it again, though I probably won’t look as cool next time.

The big remaining highlight of our trip was a wildlife watching boat trip out of Campbell River, about an hour north of Comox. I’ve been whale watching before, and if my reference to being a poor ferry passenger before was any clue, my memories are not happy ones. I think our whole group went in with low expectations– maybe we’d see some seals? how much Dramamine should we take?– but this wasn’t your grandma’s whale watch off P-town, kid.

First of all, the entire trip was in an inflatable Zodiac boat, which puts you right on the water and is actually a lot more comfortable. I didn’t feel sick at all. It’s also better for spotting animals, since it is easy to maneuver and fast on the open water. Second of all, you have to wear a dry survival suit in a Zodiac. Not only do you look like an astronaut, you are nice and warm out on the chilly water.

Just after hopping into the Zodiac, our guide Leif got a call that an orca pod was minutes away. We raced over and immediately saw them checking out the cliffs, where seals can sometimes hide in the crevices. After following the orcas down the straight for about an hour (read: 1,000 fin shots on my camera), we were rewarded with the rare sight of an active hunt! The pod split up to attack a group of seals from two sides, and the calm surface erupted into splashing and jumping. You know you’re seeing something good when your guide starts flipping out. We were maybe 100 meters away from the whole thing.

From there, we cruised over to a remote bay to check out a humpback mother, her nursing baby, and an “interloper” male whale. It was totally unlike seeing humpbacks in the open Atlantic ocean because the water was like glass– you could really observe them, not to mention SMELL them when they exhaled through their blowhole, which is connected directly to their stomach.

Once we regained our appetites, we made a stop at Stuart Island for lunch (population: 12), and then enjoyed more up-close-and-personal encounters with seals, sea lions, eagles, and a Harbour porpoise. Each turn around an island led to a more beautiful view than the last, though my favorite area was Bute Inlet. The day-long trip ended up being one of the best experiences I’ve ever had doing something “touristy” during a vacation.

Our last day, we said our goodbyes to the Drydens and together with my parents, Andrew and I reversed the drive-ferry-drive back to Vancouver. My parents were flying out the next morning, so it was nice to relax at their hotel for a few hours before heading to the airport for our 1 AM flight to Hong Kong. Our last meal in North America? Sushi.

I feel like Vancouver Island isn’t really on the map for East Coast tourists, but it should be. There’s so much to do and it’s just stunning, like a National Park without the crowds. It is a lot of travel even after arriving to Vancouver, so give yourself a full day for local travel on either end if you are taking the ferry. You can also fly into Comox. I can’t wait to make a return trip and check out Tofino, on the island’s west coast. In the meantime, I’ll be dreaming of those days I actually needed to wear a fleece.