Just got back from China, a quick turnaround in Taiwan and now here I am sitting on the huge balcony on our hut on Hat Yao, wondering how I got lucky enough to marry Tot. The wedding itself was a lovely, simple, straightforward affair (aside from the fact that the whole thing was in Thai which neither of us speak) and then a plane, bus, boat and jeep ride later found us back at the same beach we spent a month enjoying shortly after we first met 6 years ago. We didn’t have any reservations so we agreed to a place on the boat, but when we got there it wasn’t what we’d remembered and we quickly left the small hut and its bat-crap stained sheets behind us, hiking along the road and then down to the beach. We walked to the far end of the beach and met another tout we’d seen on the boat. After a quick look round (guidebook research hangups leave me unable to look at just one room or hut anywhere) I knew this was the place and we splashed out a whole $20 a night for our wooden hut at the very tip of the headland, set up on stilts 20 feet above the gently lapping sea. The next day I set out to explore and 100 feet above the hut found our original $2 hut, ramshackle but standing and still complete with the artwork (Tot’s) and scrawlings (mine) we’d made all those years before. The circle was complete. Right now Tot is about 10 feet away from me on the far side of the balcony, wrapped up in a green hammock and nursing a copy of the latest Harry Potter, and looking every inch Mrs Foster, glancing occasionally at her husband, and wondering when he’ll detach himself from his laptop. Enough blogging for one honeymoon!
