Thailand on the Horizon

For most of the afternoon the Thai coast was a dark green line beneath the cloud. After so many days of grey nothing, even distant land felt crowded. I kept looking back at it, reassured by its stubborn difference from the water. Mountains and trees were not available to me in detail, but green alone seemed a generous concession.

The Andaman Sea lay between us and that line of coast, preserving the familiar separation between seeing a place and actually being there. Still, the view had acquired depth and something for the eye to settle on. I had not realised how much effort goes into looking at an absent horizon until a proper piece of land relieved me of it.

Japan arrived at dinner: teriyaki salmon, rice, miso soup and a dessert involving matcha. The salmon had a glossy sweetness, and the soup supplied the comforting warmth of something that asks very little of you beyond holding a spoon. Between Thailand outside and Japan on the table, the day had become geographically generous without requiring any additional effort from me.

The dessert divided the table. I was in favour. Big Kev was not. Matcha has a flavour that seems to invite a position rather than permit indifference, and ours had been established quite firmly. I liked the green, slightly bitter note against the sweetness. Kev's lack of enthusiasm did not diminish mine. It is pleasant to encounter a disagreement at sea whose consequences are confined entirely to pudding.