Okay, so my life is a little bit strange. One day, I’m on a boat in the Pacific Ocean catching huge fish in between gulps of Tequila. The next day I’m exercising at 6:30am in the middle of my living room to this DVD that is supposed to work wonders. A couple of days later, I can barely walk because my ankles have swelled up so much from over-exercising. That night, after a bottle and a half of the German Hunting Master a.k.a. Jägermeister, I find myself facedown on the pavement with blood covering my shirt. A week later, and seven kilos lighter, I rediscover myself over a cup of espresso while down south for a couple of days. A week after that, minus the booze and the meat — save a bit for Thanksgiving — and I am on my way to Thailand once again for my yearly cleanout. Thailand has got this weird effect on me. When I’m in China, all I can do is think about where to get my next drink, when I am in Thailand, all I can think about is where I’m going to go to lose my next kilo. I don’t even have a hard time stopping the cigarettes. Maybe it’s the salt water, it could be the sun, or maybe it’s just the hot weather. It’s got to be something; the food, the sand, or the whining of all of those Siamese cats. For some people Thailand is their Sodom and Gomorrah, the place where anything goes. Hell, I once met a friend who had been on the island for a week, and he was as pale as a ghost. He hadn’t gone out in the sun once, but for me it’s different. This is where I come to get healthy. I get up early and I go to bed early.
So here I sit, two weeks into my trip, another eight kilos lighter, and it’s a couple of days before Christmas. You thought it’s a different holiday season in China, but for me, I’ve never been to a hot place for Christmas, and let me tell you it’s strange. Palm trees right next to fake evergreens with lights on them. Places are advertising for discounted beachside Christmas Eve barbeques. And here I’ll be eating green salad and drinking fresh juice talking with a bunch of hippies about the virtuous effects of consuming a raw diet. Maybe this year, I’ll take a bit of the sand, and put it in a jar of salt water for my trip back home. I’ll try to capture some of the sunlight in that same jar, just after learning how to cook my favorite: green curry. I’ll go to the pet shop often and maybe I’ll even buy a cat that meows a lot. Or maybe I’ll just read my horoscope and let the dice lie where they may. After all, isn’t that the way I’ve always done it? Happy New Year to you. Drink, eat, and be merry.
By Tim Hoerle