Ka-Ching, Ko Chang!

I am not a fan of small planes ever since we flew in one around Mt. Denali (also known as Mt. McKinley) in Alaska when Nat was two.  He had just finished a bottle when we had the bright idea of an air tour of the highest mountain peak on the North American continent.  In our defense, it was our first small plane tour of a peak so high it creates its own weather conditions (much like Mt. Rainier), but I will leave to your imagination the domino effect of Nat's tossing his (milk and) cookies.  It was sheer terror, and total gastrointestinal torture, mitigated only by our immense relief of actually surviving the experience.


Agreeing to take a small plane to Koh Chang from Bangkok was one of my more courageous moments, but little did I know it would end up being one of the easiest and most pleasant experiences flying imaginable.  Sure, it was a propeller plane, but I had flown across the Atlantic Ocean as a child to Morocco and Naples so clearly a propeller plane was up to the task of a 40-minute flight.

We immediately knew we were in for an exceptional experience as soon as we were advised to stop in the Bangkok Air lounge before departure, where a virtual banquet of beverages and snacks was offered free for our delectation.  The 40-minute flight itself was pretty spectacular, since for about half of that time we were low enough to the ground to get a sense of the topography.

We ascended above cloud level just briefly enough to be stunned at the beauty of the sunset, where Koh Chang is just barely visible in the center of the photo,

and, remarkably, on that 40-minute flight we were served an elegant dinner.  It was clear as we descended that we were approaching the Thailand we had always imagined - the verdant, undeveloped, and pristine island of Koh Chang.

The crowning glory of the flight was our arrival at what is surely the most charming, amenable, and beautiful airport on the planet - the Trat Airport, 

where a sapphire blue sky emerged from the storm clouds at sunset.

It was beautifully landscaped, and included fragrant gardens and elephant topiary everywhere.

We were efficiently whisked away as dusk descended and within 25 minutes arrived at our destination for the next two days, the Amari Emerald Cove Resort (we did not choose it solely because it is an anagram of Amira, just for the record) where in the morning we discovered an infinity-edge pool larger than any we have ever seen which was blessed by a Buddha embodying divine relaxation and peace.

It didn't matter in the least that there was a monsoon downpour that morning; the thoughtfully supplied bright orange umbrellas made even the rain a cheerful delight (as Amira in Amari here suggests),

and besides, within minutes, the showers had cleared and it was sunshine all the way.  We lolled about in the pool,

and despite the intimidating warning on the beach, 

we had nary a grievous moment with any coral, and a positively divine time floating on our backs in the ocean, as warm and soothing as I imagine a womb is.  Which was followed by an equally divine return to the pool, where blessings overflowed the infinity edge.

Our souls and bodies purified and renewed, we were ready for an encounter with the elephants we had traveled over 7,500 miles to see.