Things you buy through our links may earn Vox Media a commission. For more on The White Lotus , sign up for The White Lotus Club , our subscriber-exclusive newsletter obsessing, dissecting, and debating everything about season three. Yesterday was lost to a haze of jet lag and tiki drinks.
Our guests stepped off their planes and onto a verdant island that seemed to appear from nowhere, fully formed, exclusively for them. God created these holidaymakers from dust and breathed into their nostrils the Ujjayi breath of life. As He did for Adam and Eve, He planted a garden for them in the East and filled it with trees that were pleasing and good for food.
The man who paddleboards out to the bollards to hang the over-the-water hammocks. The breakfast tables being laid. A lone beach boy rakes the sand, sweeping away the footprints, maintaining the illusion that this Eden was made just for them. They remind me of the Mossbachers from The White Lotus season one and even, to a lesser extent, the Di Grassos from season two. Saxon, with status. Victoria, for her part, distrusts the external world.
When Kate drops by her breakfast table to remind Victoria that they once met at a baby shower, for example, Victoria declines to acknowledge her. And Piper? Piper is that nagging sensation that all the Ratliffs have buried somewhere in their souls that tells them they are not special. Footprints in the sand, swept out of existence. After breakfast, the castaways set off for their first wellness appointments. An LBH leers at Piper during group yoga.
Tim hits the gym and then spends the time left over attempting to tidy up after his financial crimes. By the time Tim wakes up in Thailand, the Washington Post has the story, too.
