THE SPA CHRONICLES: Oops, I Did It Again

A discussion with my mad Aussie friend Kate is a glorious thing. Though the actual topics may vary, I can guarantee that there will be alcohol, belly laughs, judgement of those we deem unworthy, mutual appreciation, wisdom and encouragement both dispensed and given, and, well, alcohol. Actually, I suppose that pretty much sums up a discussion with any of my gurlfriends. Hm. Anyway...

While we talked of many things, we re-visited the topic of buying another spa many times. Ultimately, Kate's take on it was that I must trust my gut feeling about it. And, overall, my gut was sending me a resounding "no". And yet, there was a niggling something in the back of my mind, a glowing ember that would occasionally flare. A "what if?".

Upon returning to work in North America, even though I had decided against buying another place, I kept thinking about the idea. I had a discussion with Ajay via text about it, and he thought it was a terrible idea. "Oh Patrick. Not good. Bad location. No walk-in customer. Better to put all that money into Sai Roong instead." (Ajay can always be counted on to announce that the sky is falling). The topic would come up when Jen and I were enjoying an after-show cocktail, where I would again hash through the pros and cons.

I spun the idea around in my head for more than a week until I admitted that I must have some level of interest or I wouldn't still be thinking about it. So, I decided to let fate decide. Knowing that the owner wanted to walk away from the business to start a new life, I resolved to make him an offer of what I thought I could afford with the proviso that the purchase price would include everything: furnishings, appliances, decor, linens, website, domain name, Trip Adviser account, signage....absolutely everything. Oh, and I would pay him half the money immediately and the other half in three months. And to my great surprise, he accepted it. As it turned out, I didn't need the extra time to pay the second half of the money, which actually made the transition quick and seamless.

This new baby in the family meant some extra work for Mr. Long in the beginning, mostly administratively, but I didn't feel too badly about that since the lack of customers over the past few months left him very little to do to earn his salary. There has also been a little internal re-structuring in terms of staff. My initial plan was to run the new place as very exclusive, by appointment only, sending my boys over from Sai Roong only when there were appointments.  But Mr. Long started keeping it open for regular hours and business was great. So I now have Mr. Long at the new place but still managing both spas. Mr. Sit has also joined him, and we inherited Mr. Tom with the place as well. Mr. Nut is still at Sai Roong and his friend from Phuket will join him there soon. We've been running the new place since the beginning of September and it's been going very well, even with the massive rains that Samui has been having.

So, may I present the newest acquisition in my expanding empire, Prince Samui Spa...

Because I was not there for the actual hand-over of Prince Samui, I asked Mr. Long to do a photographic inventory of everything that we bought, and send me the pics. I woke up one morning to 29 pics sent to my phone. I scrolled through them, making a mental list of artworks, lighting fixtures, appliances, brick-a-brack,....and then had to double-take when I got to the last photo.

I immediately phoned Mr. Long,

Me: Um.....did we BUY the cats?
Long: Yes. Have to.
Me: Have to?
Long: Yes. But is ok. Live out back not in shop.
Me: Ok. So, comes with cats.
Long: Yes.

Anyone who saw the cat picture immediately wanted to know the cat's names, which, oddly, never even occurred to me. The next time I spoke with Long, I asked him if the cats had names. His response was characteristically economical, "No. No name." And so I have named them Ng, Saam and Song, the Thai words for one, two and three.

THE SPA CHRONICLES: The Return, The Relax and the Surprise Offer...

If I were to tell any normal person (or as Pam calls them, Muggles) that I spent five days on a tropical island and didn't even go to the beach, they would judge me. Harshly.  But that is indeed what happened on my previous trip to Koh Samui.

Beautiful green island...sigh

 On that previous trip, I spent most of my time on my scooter going from spa to bank to lawyer to spa to furniture store to spa and, ultimately, to sleep so that I could do it all again the next day. Call it a non-stop-drama-buffet: steamed stress, fried jet-lag, jellied firings, sauteed meetings, mixed lawyer-ings, a full and varied selection.

Keeping all of that in mind, it was a joy to return to find that Mr. Long and the staff had lived up to their promises and reputations by keeping the spa clean, organized and running smoothly.  (Customers would be nice but that's another thing)

 It's good for me in that it means I can trust the staff that is in place. Bad for me in that I then have to find "owner/boss" tasks for myself to do in order to not become completely superfluous to my own business. So I put up the wallpaper mural that I had brought with me on the last trip.

 

Other than the wallpaper mural and a few small administrative details, there was precious little else to be done, to the point where I felt like I was interfering if I hung around too much. So that left playing, lounging and touristing as the only other options, with no complaints. And much needed playtime it was after an exhausting week and a half of 12 hour days leading up to departure.

Touristing...

Island hopping, courtesy of Colin's generous hospitality...

and his boat...

Cooking...

And eating...

Scooter blessing...

And there was, of course, plenty of drinking, (Pride Bar once again experienced their usual spike in red wine sales). It was all fun and games until the night before departure when I received a call from another spa owner that I know. He said, "You come talk to me. Maybe you want to buy my spa." This came out of nowhere and totally took me by surprise. I sputtered that I had absolutely no intention of buying anything, but I agreed to meet with him just to hear what he had to say. 

I arrived at his spa late in the evening and he made his case to me. He explained that he was tired of running the place, but mostly, he wanted to move to France and marry his boyfriend. I did a quick tour of the place, even though I had been there before, and paid more attention to details this time. It has always been, and still was, impeccably clean, and it's huge and beautifully decorated. We got down to nitty-gritty and had a talk about price. I explained to him that I was intrigued by the idea, but that I would need to do some thinking about it. My gut was saying, "Are you insane?? Get a grip, man!" But my sensible voice said, "Talk it out with your business guru, Kate, at Southcoast in Singapore. After all, it's her fault that you bought the first spa."

PP's FINAL "FUCK YOU"

I eventually arrive back in Cincinnati, once again completely confused as to what day/time it is. The jet lag is always worse after the return trip, compounded by the fact that one has to return to work. I know that the next few days will be an uphill climb.

I am mildly annoyed when people ask me how my “vacation” was. It’s not their fault that they don’t know what I packed into those few days. For a time, I explain to them that it wasn’t a vacation, at all, but as people continue to ask, I grow weary of explaining, so just respond by saying, “it was great”. 

Mr. Nut sends me daily business reports and does a very good job of keeping things ship-shape until Mr. Long returns. During one of my conversations with Mr. Long, he tells me that PP has not paid the previous month rent, or the previous month water or electric bill, AND that some of the boys have not been paid their commissions. So the lying little bastard managed to make his exit with a final “Fuck You” that ended up costing me tens of thousands of Baht. I hope that the people he owes money to, that are looking for him, find him...and beat him. He's better hope they find him before I do, cuz I'll snap his little neck like a wafer.

Things become calmer the more I interact with Mr. Long. I get income reports on most days, and business seems to be doing a little better under his management. He has a very Zen approach to most things, and usually accepts my instructions with a simple, “ok, I do it”. Or, if I ask his opinion on something, he will simply suggest, “this way better I think”.

At one point, he sends me a copy of the menu from his old spa, with the statement, “I would like to have this one”. It is a beautiful selection of services. A great variety of massages and some really beautiful body treatments that use the products of Thailand. I mean, a coconut and honey body scrub? Come on! I love it. I want to adopt this menu if he is willing to teach the staff all of the new treatments, which, of course, he is. I tell him that I will rewrite the menu, to give new names to the various treatments, and to correct the badly written English. (At the moment, the new, rewritten version is waiting for attention from our graphic designer/webmaster who is busy with TSG Samui.)

At the writing of this entry, it is low-season on Samui. Tourists are normally pretty scarce this time of year, but it is particularly bad this year. It is, in fact, the lowest low-season ever on Samui. There’s the aforementioned car bomb, the on-going new liquor policies being introduced by the new government, the rise of MERS cases in neighboring Asian countries, heavy monsoon rains and subsequent flooding, earthquakes, drought, another outbreak of dengue fever at a resort on the mainland,... the list goes on and on. It adds up to business really SUCKING. 

My staff, along with many others on the island, spend long days doing absolutely nothing. Against my better judgement, but hoping to give them a project, I decide to hire them to paint the floor upstairs. I have seen how Thai boys paint, and it makes my anal-retentive heart shrivel into a weeping, quivering ball. There is paint splashed on everything within a ten meter radius of the actual painting site,  and there’s not a clean edge to be seen. Still, I figure, it’s the floor, how bad could it be? So I send Mr. Long a colour sample and give him some very specific instructions on EXACTLY how to proceed with the painting. All in all, it looks like a pretty good job, though my eyes will probably see what the pictures don’t reveal the next time I visit. At least it kept them busy for a few days, the place looks better, and I don’t have to take the time to do it on my next trip.

And speaking of my next trip....it will be very soon. I wonder what I will find...

THE SPA CHRONICLES: Saying Goodbye, Yet Again

It is my last day on Samui and, thanks to last night’s drinking, I sleep fairly late, which isn’t a bad thing at all. My flight isn’t until early afternoon, so I don’t have to rush. The day is already stinking hot, but I drink my coffee outside anyway, knowing that I will be returning to work in rainy, cold, blah Cincinnati. I realize that I have yet to pay Aiman for the scooter rental. I message him about it, and he comes over to my place to collect the money…in his tiny underwear.  It's killing me. Once I stop staring, I also give him a few extra baht to arrange airport transport for me. After watching Aiman’s perfect, underwear-model ass leave, I do the last bits of packing that my drunk self couldn’t cope with last night, and head out for one last visit to the spa.

 It is not quite opening time for the spa yet, and I don’t have a key. This seems hilarious, even to me, but the sliding glass doors were installed after I left the last time, and frankly, I don’t need to carry a key around with me on tour. Mr. Long is inside when I arrive, so he lets me in. He is making his preparations to go home for Songkran. He is from a small, inland town, far from the sea, so he is busy packing a huge, polystyrene chest with ice and fresh fish for his family. I can’t imagine lugging a bucket of fish onto the ferry and then the bus, but this is life in Thailand and family at Songkran is a big deal.

Though Songkran is a lunar date on the calendar, it is actually a water festival, symbolic of cleansing and starting fresh. Buddha  statues everywhere have a bowl of water placed next to them so that you can pour water over them. This blessed water is sometimes collected and sprinkled on the shoulders of the elderly for luck, prosperity and health. People will also bless monks with water during this holiday.

In modern day, the water blessing custom has evolved into what is the world's biggest water fight. You can't go anywhere in Thailand during Songkran without getting completly, utterly, drenched. It is a joyful celebration of renewal and cleansing and everyone goes mental.

The end of our street during Songkran

Songkran madness

 

I have time to grab a little something to eat, knowing that the food options at Samui airport are virtually non-existent. I go to a splashy, modern place around the corner and have a delicious Spanish Potato Hash and some REAL coffee.

As I enjoy breakfast, I read the various international newspaper stories about the car bomb that went off two nights ago at the big mall, Central Festival, just down the street from us. 

Since the government in Thailand can, and does, censor media, the only true fact one can glean is that the bomb went off in a car in the parkade, and that no one was killed. Everything else is conjecture, media hype and political innuendo. When we heard about the bomb on that night, I was still at Pride Bar, so we all began to check our Twitter feed, the only reliable source of immediate information left in the world, to see what had happened. Who knows if we’ll ever really know the truth. Various factions will continue to point the finger, the government will pick and choose what information is shared, the police will continue to be corrupt and disorganized and it will drag on and on until it is long forgotten. Thailand, where it’s just easier to embrace the whole glorious mess. 

It is time for me head to the airport. I bid the boys at the spa farewell, and head back to my studio to drop off the scooter and pick up my luggage. I am woefully over dressed as I wait for my airport pick up, but I know that if I wear shorts and a T-shirt on the plane, I’ll be so cold that I’ll end up cryogenically preserved for future generations.

Samui airport is beautiful. The whole thing is open to the elements, and there are beautiful gardens, blossoming trees and water features everywhere. This means, though, that the only way for me to escape the heat in my long pants is to pretend to shop for the over-priced tourist crap in the gift stores. 

Eventually, it is time for me to board my flight and begin the endless (30-ish hours) flight away from paradise and back to reality. I am not happy about it.

In spite of how short, stressful, busy, complicated and completely un-holiday-like this trip was, I'm never happy to leave this place. But at least now, I feel more confident in the spa surviving in my absence, and even a sense of hope that I may now have a real idea about it's daily operations. 

But of course, the drama is on-going...