Jet lag is like mosquitos—do what you will, you’re gonna get bit. I’ve got travel tricks, herbs and pharmaceuticals out the wazoo, didn’t sleep at all while the sun shone on Indochina yesterday, and hit the sack at midnight, but I still up at 3:30am with no impulse to get back to sleep. Katie & Luis were fast asleep. Hotel breakfast was hours away.
A fun thing about traveling overseas is that your friends tend to be awake when you should be sleeping. In this case, my brother was on a layover in Istanbul (7400 km distant… forgot about that in my last post). I texted him the public transit instructions from BKK to our hotel and had brief txt chat. Then I made an offering to Cthulhu to protect his next flight from the Syrian Air Force.
Shockingly, that didn’t tire me out. I poked around gently in the darkness for my headlamp, switched on the red light for extra stealth, and gathered the tools and clothes I’d need to go web surfing in the lobby. Then I knocked over my bag, waking everyone up anyway. Note from Katie: you look like a demon when you’re wearing a red LED headlamp in the dark.
The lobby staff was confused to see me at that hour, but they directed me to a deep leather couch in the lobby. My favorite. I started writing a totally different post about my first afternoon in Bangkok, but found I didn’t have the photo I need for it; it’s on someone else’s phone. Stymied.
A new topic required new scenery. I moved to a cafe table outside in the dissipating darkness, lit a cigarette, and plumbed my soul for other thoughts to share. This took a little. But something was bothering me. I had made peace with the jet lag, and I’ve always enjoyed doing day things at night anyway, so it wasn’t that. It was something more visceral and immediate, pinpricks from the ether, or something. My skin was crawling.
Then I remembered: mosquitos are most active at dawn and dusk, and most numerous in the tropics.
They always get you.
But not in the swank restroom on the 19th floor!
Now where’s that coffee? I’m getting in the sauna.