So there i was, sat in the hotel lobby in Phnom Penh, trying to eek out all that i'd felt in the past five or six or seven days for the blog. Keyboard completely inadequate, the boys waiting, hungry, over my shoulder to go out to dinner. A new little place on the busy riverfront.
The thing was, i was spooked. The killing fields had gotten to me. A massive proportion of Cambodians may still have post-traumatic stress, it had said. I suddenly felt like i was really in a country that was unlike my own. Thailand had been beautiful, but we'd almost managed to avoid Thai culture. Thais have ruled that land for thousands of years, unlike their neighbors who've all been done over by French and English and US machines. The first culture to invade Thailand is the tourism industry and is it rife. We'd been a part of that but now we were traveling into the midst of a country and a culture that we didn't own any slice of. Visitors.
Dinner was excellent, like most of them have been. We ate lavishly and then took ourselves and our deck of cards to a sports bar. A warm up for another big night. At around midnight, watching the end of Arsenal's draw with Orient, i declared myself out. I was spaced and quiet and bed seemed like a good idea. The next morning we were headed on a bus for Sihanokville. Some time on the beach to escape the dusty, hassling city vibe. The boys all struggled out and we lunged on to the bus. At the interchange i bumped in to a disabled monk and bought some beads from him. I felt good about this, having not been done by any of the thousand or so others who's attempted to get some cash from us all. The bus got busier and busier until we were all packed in like sardines, something that we've discovered is standard round here, along with tortuous waits at blazing hot passenger exchanges.
The rooms we found in Sihanokville were acceptable and dirt cheap, whilst the staff varied in the attitude towards depending on the time of day, the amount of alcohol we were buying and our own ability to smile whilst hungover. Sihanokville, you see, is not necessarily a place to recline on a beach. It can be done, so we heard, about 4km round the coast but we were right in the middle of the action. Three nights of intense, brilliant partying left us all drained. Once again the main beach is adorned with a row of bars and everyone ends up at JJ's where the music bumps on until five or six. The vibe was good though, very little bravado or pretense and plenty of strangers to exchange full-names with for future Facebook reference. The three days here are a blur of card games, late nights, beach hangovers, and "Yes, Steven, one more tequilla!" IF British tourism has not yet invaded Cambodia fully, it's found itself a little corner in the south to hang out and party. Again, after having had enough, we all lumbered on to a full-up bus headed this time for a supposedly sleepy town called Kampot. After 90 minutes waiting for passengers and a 90 minute drive, we arrived.
Upon leaving the bus and slouching in to the nearest restaurant chairs available, we all commented on the lack of noise around. We'd done it; escaped the hordes and the sharks, found a real Cambodian town. We hired bicycles and toured the entire place in a couple of hours, the begging and the constant hassle from tuk-tuk drivers replaced by a couple of kids shouting "hello!"as we rode past. We reached the traditional market and hunted underneath the rainbow patchwork roof of assorted cloth for some shorts and trinkets. Nobody tried to sell to us, we just chatted to locals and bought dirt-cheap, brand-name shorts. The fish-market stunk and it really hotted up in the veg market. Life of this town just buzzing on; part of the day-to-day here.
Dinner was again excellent. We cycled out after showers and happened upon a place that let us play cards whilst looking out across the tranquil river at night and feasting. "We could live here," i said to Rory. "Easily mate."
Sunday
[Sting-O]
Once Rory, Rich, Cam, Helen and Monica had checked in to a room, Arun and I brought everyone back to our place to join us for our first dip in our pool. We laughed at the "Ahhhh!" sound each person made when first getting in and as we each ordered a large whiskey from the pool bar we were joined by Lani and her friends. The lot of us hung out until sunset and Arun and I could not resist booking a couple more nights in the aptly named Tropical Gardens.
After quick showers we all headed out towards Reggae Bar, a place that sells cheap buckets early, allowing some of our crowd to make their bucket debuts. The main attraction here is a proper looking muay-thai boxing ring where drunk customers can sign up for a bout of three rounds against each other inbetween exhibitions put on by the regular fighters there. We just about resisted the urge that would become more tempting throughout the night. "It's only 90 seconds!" i repeated to Rory throughout the night, but seeing formerly confident, now battered and brusied men stumble over to the bar to claim their free drink was hardly inspiring. Once we'd reached the beach party, catching up with Naomi and Sarah, we danced and drank our way through to the early hours.
It wasn't long before we were all up though; we endevoured to reach the already scorching but now somewhat tainted beach by 10 a.m. By midday, it'd risen to the mid 30's and none of us could stand the blaze of the sun without sitting in the shallows for more than 30 minutes. Eventually, having fulfilled the role of mad-dogs and Englishmen, we all went back to our pool again and whilst Rich and Cam napped on sun-loungers, Rory, Arun and I played a few rounds of cards; shit-head was the name of the game, and would remain so for the next few days as competition heated up between us and we, the lads, spent more time together. After such a relaxing day we decided not to brave the tourist-fuelled hustle and bustle of Ko Phi-Phi's main trappings and chose instead to eat beach side, looking out at the docked boats as we ate barbequed fish and played more cards. Spirits were high enough after this for us all to venture beack to the beach where the rave had hotted up, Arun and I rejoicing in the drum'n'bass/dubstep set played at the far end.
The group is good at motivating each other. So much so that after another short but deep sleep, we headed out early in order to catch the boat tour around the island which turned out to be the perfect hangover cure. We were joined by a jovial Irishman called Johnjo who stuck around for the rest of the day. Our first stop was at Monkey Island. We pulled up about 200 metres from shore and, after pushing our hungover selves through a gruelling swin over sharp coral, we emerged to find a small group of monkeys tentatively playing with Coke cans and ice-cream cones from the tourists. Then, out of nowhere, the big, red-eyed leader of the pack came bounding out of the jungle, inspiring the whole group to start rushing and yelling and everyone on the beach. Evolution seemingly got flipped upside down and we all scampered back out to sea, snorkelling hurriedly back to the boat. The moment of fear was replaced by laughter as Lucky, one of the tour guides, failed to believe Arun when he said he was English.
We sailed smoothly around Phi-Phi for another hour until we reach Bamboo island where we found a small hut offering simple but satisfying home-cooked food. We ate gratefully, but were less thankful on the swim back to the boat. The mood on board was picking up as everyone got involved, jumping 8-metres down off the top deck and starting a bombing competition, even Monica eventually braved the jump. The tour guides threw bread in to the water near her, making hundreds of fish appear from the depths to snack and creating a whirl of colour in the water. Finally, we were led around to the north where the sun set between two huge cliffs. We watched lazily, joined by a dozen other boats, as the sky shone blue, purple and orange and all remnants of the night before drifted off in to the haze.
Johnjo suggested that everyone from the tour go out to dinner that night, so our gang met up with the rest and taught everyone shit-head, which we played after a dinner of more barbequed fish and then moved over to the funky, neon Banana Bar. Conversation was flowing faster than the drinks, both at an impressive rate and neither done without a smile. It was decided that the forfeit for losing shit-head was to wear one of Monica's bikini tops until the next loser, a fate that Arun, I, Rory and Cam all had to endure. Each of us soaked up peoples' strange looks and questions with as much dignity as was available.
Phi-Phi, we decided, had peaked, and the next morning we again got up early to catch a boat - this time aiming for Krabi, en route to the highly rated Khao Sok National Park. Rory, Rich, Arun, Monica, Cam and I drifted away from the island with adventure in mind. The journey went smoothly, via boat, then bus, then exclusive mini-bus right to the front door of Jungle Huts, some impressive yet cheap rooms situated right in the middle of Khao Sok's 160 million year old rainforest. We were immediately offered the chance to go elephant trekking, and snatched at the opportunity; our new guide, Em, a young-looking dude with a penchant for boyish humour, sped us through the winding mountains across the park and into a little clearing in the forest where the elephants stayed. Arun and I jumped on, taking turns at sitting on the head of our lively elephant. The trudge through the lush green forest was beautiful, the sun now at an angle darting through the leaves and shimmering off the waterfall we reached. Arun and I talked about how strange it is for humans to take control of animals, and having chatted to Lani a few days before about the way the elephants are treated out here, i had a little pang of guilt about sitting on top of the beast but this, i have to admit, was totally eclipsed by the moment.
We got back and booked ourselves on to a two-day trek and stop-over in the forest, such was the awesomeness of the place. Our island exploits caught up with us that night though and we all headed to bed early.
The next morning we all met and ate ourselves a huge breakfast, preparing for the mission ahead. Em again piled us in to his pick-up truck, minus Monica who had to fly home the next day leaving just the lads, and we darted round to the pier of the lake on which we'd spend the next two days. Khao Sok covers an immense area with a deep freshwater lake at its centre, tributaries of which split off for miles. On the lake are a few sparsely scattered floating fishing villages of no more than 20 huts each. Em introduced us to our driver, also called Em, as we took a 2 hour long-tail boat ride out to our remote accomodation, once again in blistering heat which was only ever bearable because of the rush of wind from the boat ride. We eventually pulled up next to some simple- but sturdy-looking bamboo huts with only a kitchen attached and two more long-tails moored to its side. We immediately jumped into the lake, Rory besting us all with a spectacular front-flip straight in to the perfectly cool, blue water.
From here time slowed a little. We decided that this was one of our more authentic Thai experiences in that, when travelling around, one watches the Thais sat listlessly passing time and wondering exactly how it's done, but now it was our time we had to pass and we all enjoyed the change of pace. We ate, we played cards, we fished, we sped around on Em & Em's boat on some little excursions. On the banks, we saw various wild animals scarper back into the dense woodland upon hearing the roaring sound of our boat's properller. Byson, boar, deer and lizards all took a look at us before making tracks. Later that night, after some fantastic food, we were treated to a little night safari on the boat, the highlight of which we catching a glimpse of a huge stag by the light of Em's torch.
We sat up in the floating kitchen playing cards and drinking whiskey and feeling very Apocalypse Now. The air cooled to a comfortable temparature as Rory and I sat up later than anyone for miles casting the bait-less fishing rod in to the water, half-hoping for a bite, half chatting.
The next morning Em led us by foot into the forest and we trekked for a couple of hours, again trying to catch some fish but not succeeding. The density of the trees became apparent, as well as the length of the lake, as we walked for a couple of hours in crisp morning heat before jumping back on our long-tail and heading back towards the pier. The best two days out here, but completely unrelatable to much of the rest of the trip, our time spent in Khao Sok will never be forgotten, as much for the fun we made ourselves as for the stunning surroundings.
After reaching the pier, Em gave us a lift to the bus-stop. We all needed to get to Bangkok to catch a flight to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, the next day, and we'd opted for a public bus and then sleeper-train to get us there. As we arrived at the bus-stop along the side of a dusty street, the bus pulled up and had us at the station within 2 hours. We picked up some supplies of crisps, whiskey, tobacco and crisps whilst waiting for a train and whilst wandering the town i was confronted by a small Thai student whose name i forget, asking me to read him a paragraph in English from a newspaper; he wanted to record my voice and use it for practise for his teaching degree. I agreed, explaining that my accent might not serve him particularly well, but he gratefully offered me a red-bull and a banana-leaf cigarette in exchange for my voice. The paragraph detailed a ceasefire between Thailand and Cambodia after a small fight on their mutual border, which i told the lads must bode well for our trip the next day.
The sleeper train was a fantastic experience. We occupied half of the buffet cart until 10 p.m., playing more games of cards, this time chase-the-ace, laughing and joking over the booming sound of the carriage on the rails outside the open windows. I slept so well in my bunk that for the first time i managed to properly lucid dream: i realised i had control of myself in my dream and started hovering a few feet off the ground in front of a silent crowd, before i twitched awake.
We arrived on Khao San road having taken a tuk-tuk from the station. I managed to re-purchase my stolen Gorillaz t-shirt and we wasted time watching Arsenal beat Barcelona on a repeated game. Everyone indulged in mango shakes and breakfasts, before withdrawing our US Dollars for Cambodia and heading to the airport. Our flight lasted barely an hour, with the seatbelt sign switched off for a matter of minutes and hardly time for any of us to sleep. Touching down inPhnom Penh, we all sensed that we'd reached a very different place; the air was thick, the buildings lower and the streets more hectic. Arun and I reflected that it reminded us of Delhi, and impression that has become stronger over the last two days. The cars and motorbikes ignore all lane rules and pull impossible manouveres with grace and ease. Crossing the road was for each of us an experience in itself.
We headed towards Rory's Pub, a guesthouse along the river which hosts most of Phnom Penh's tourist stop-offs. We headed out towards some of Phnom Penh's less infamous bars, eventually landing on a trendy club called Heart of Darkness which sees Cambodians, Brits and other of all description party late in to the night. With beers at $1 we managed not to spend too much money but had a really good night out.
Despite our hangovers, we had to drag ourselves out of Rory's due to a lack of rooms. After another huge breakfast, we were all inspired to make the most of our day. I suggested that we couldn't leave without visiting the killing fields site. Everyone agreed except Rory, who correctly opted out having done the experience once before, whilst Arun, Cam, Rich and I discovered for ourselves why it might be the kind of thing to only do once. We hired a tuk-tuk which drove us steadily away from the city centre of Phnom Penh, where guesthouses and pubs meet tiny rickety shops with tin stalls out front, broken only by the occassional huge, glass-fronted Toyota dealership or "Official Apple Retailer." On reaching the edge of town, the roads became dustier and the shops less clean, and we were led towards the site of the killing fields.
Immediately, what is striking is how small the area is. Thousands of people lost their lives here, yet the entire site can be taken in one photo. A tall, unspectacular moument stands in the middle of the site, with 17 layers of skulls stacked 30 metres into the air. We then whicked across town to the prison , which detailed further the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1979. Known as S-21, it was easy to see how Pol-Pot had ordered the conversion of a modern school building in to an oppressive prison with no space and barbed wire covering the windows the prevent prisoners jumping. I headed down the coridor and accidentally found myself at a locked gate. The familiar pang of fear shot through me as i felt like i was somewhere i shouldn't be, and as that happened i turned a corner to see hundreds of pictures of prisoners, from child to elderly, staring right at me. The fear disappated as i looked at their faces, some scared, some blank, some even smiling. Not knowing their fate.
After quick showers we all headed out towards Reggae Bar, a place that sells cheap buckets early, allowing some of our crowd to make their bucket debuts. The main attraction here is a proper looking muay-thai boxing ring where drunk customers can sign up for a bout of three rounds against each other inbetween exhibitions put on by the regular fighters there. We just about resisted the urge that would become more tempting throughout the night. "It's only 90 seconds!" i repeated to Rory throughout the night, but seeing formerly confident, now battered and brusied men stumble over to the bar to claim their free drink was hardly inspiring. Once we'd reached the beach party, catching up with Naomi and Sarah, we danced and drank our way through to the early hours.
It wasn't long before we were all up though; we endevoured to reach the already scorching but now somewhat tainted beach by 10 a.m. By midday, it'd risen to the mid 30's and none of us could stand the blaze of the sun without sitting in the shallows for more than 30 minutes. Eventually, having fulfilled the role of mad-dogs and Englishmen, we all went back to our pool again and whilst Rich and Cam napped on sun-loungers, Rory, Arun and I played a few rounds of cards; shit-head was the name of the game, and would remain so for the next few days as competition heated up between us and we, the lads, spent more time together. After such a relaxing day we decided not to brave the tourist-fuelled hustle and bustle of Ko Phi-Phi's main trappings and chose instead to eat beach side, looking out at the docked boats as we ate barbequed fish and played more cards. Spirits were high enough after this for us all to venture beack to the beach where the rave had hotted up, Arun and I rejoicing in the drum'n'bass/dubstep set played at the far end.
The group is good at motivating each other. So much so that after another short but deep sleep, we headed out early in order to catch the boat tour around the island which turned out to be the perfect hangover cure. We were joined by a jovial Irishman called Johnjo who stuck around for the rest of the day. Our first stop was at Monkey Island. We pulled up about 200 metres from shore and, after pushing our hungover selves through a gruelling swin over sharp coral, we emerged to find a small group of monkeys tentatively playing with Coke cans and ice-cream cones from the tourists. Then, out of nowhere, the big, red-eyed leader of the pack came bounding out of the jungle, inspiring the whole group to start rushing and yelling and everyone on the beach. Evolution seemingly got flipped upside down and we all scampered back out to sea, snorkelling hurriedly back to the boat. The moment of fear was replaced by laughter as Lucky, one of the tour guides, failed to believe Arun when he said he was English.
We sailed smoothly around Phi-Phi for another hour until we reach Bamboo island where we found a small hut offering simple but satisfying home-cooked food. We ate gratefully, but were less thankful on the swim back to the boat. The mood on board was picking up as everyone got involved, jumping 8-metres down off the top deck and starting a bombing competition, even Monica eventually braved the jump. The tour guides threw bread in to the water near her, making hundreds of fish appear from the depths to snack and creating a whirl of colour in the water. Finally, we were led around to the north where the sun set between two huge cliffs. We watched lazily, joined by a dozen other boats, as the sky shone blue, purple and orange and all remnants of the night before drifted off in to the haze.
Johnjo suggested that everyone from the tour go out to dinner that night, so our gang met up with the rest and taught everyone shit-head, which we played after a dinner of more barbequed fish and then moved over to the funky, neon Banana Bar. Conversation was flowing faster than the drinks, both at an impressive rate and neither done without a smile. It was decided that the forfeit for losing shit-head was to wear one of Monica's bikini tops until the next loser, a fate that Arun, I, Rory and Cam all had to endure. Each of us soaked up peoples' strange looks and questions with as much dignity as was available.
Phi-Phi, we decided, had peaked, and the next morning we again got up early to catch a boat - this time aiming for Krabi, en route to the highly rated Khao Sok National Park. Rory, Rich, Arun, Monica, Cam and I drifted away from the island with adventure in mind. The journey went smoothly, via boat, then bus, then exclusive mini-bus right to the front door of Jungle Huts, some impressive yet cheap rooms situated right in the middle of Khao Sok's 160 million year old rainforest. We were immediately offered the chance to go elephant trekking, and snatched at the opportunity; our new guide, Em, a young-looking dude with a penchant for boyish humour, sped us through the winding mountains across the park and into a little clearing in the forest where the elephants stayed. Arun and I jumped on, taking turns at sitting on the head of our lively elephant. The trudge through the lush green forest was beautiful, the sun now at an angle darting through the leaves and shimmering off the waterfall we reached. Arun and I talked about how strange it is for humans to take control of animals, and having chatted to Lani a few days before about the way the elephants are treated out here, i had a little pang of guilt about sitting on top of the beast but this, i have to admit, was totally eclipsed by the moment.
We got back and booked ourselves on to a two-day trek and stop-over in the forest, such was the awesomeness of the place. Our island exploits caught up with us that night though and we all headed to bed early.
The next morning we all met and ate ourselves a huge breakfast, preparing for the mission ahead. Em again piled us in to his pick-up truck, minus Monica who had to fly home the next day leaving just the lads, and we darted round to the pier of the lake on which we'd spend the next two days. Khao Sok covers an immense area with a deep freshwater lake at its centre, tributaries of which split off for miles. On the lake are a few sparsely scattered floating fishing villages of no more than 20 huts each. Em introduced us to our driver, also called Em, as we took a 2 hour long-tail boat ride out to our remote accomodation, once again in blistering heat which was only ever bearable because of the rush of wind from the boat ride. We eventually pulled up next to some simple- but sturdy-looking bamboo huts with only a kitchen attached and two more long-tails moored to its side. We immediately jumped into the lake, Rory besting us all with a spectacular front-flip straight in to the perfectly cool, blue water.
From here time slowed a little. We decided that this was one of our more authentic Thai experiences in that, when travelling around, one watches the Thais sat listlessly passing time and wondering exactly how it's done, but now it was our time we had to pass and we all enjoyed the change of pace. We ate, we played cards, we fished, we sped around on Em & Em's boat on some little excursions. On the banks, we saw various wild animals scarper back into the dense woodland upon hearing the roaring sound of our boat's properller. Byson, boar, deer and lizards all took a look at us before making tracks. Later that night, after some fantastic food, we were treated to a little night safari on the boat, the highlight of which we catching a glimpse of a huge stag by the light of Em's torch.
We sat up in the floating kitchen playing cards and drinking whiskey and feeling very Apocalypse Now. The air cooled to a comfortable temparature as Rory and I sat up later than anyone for miles casting the bait-less fishing rod in to the water, half-hoping for a bite, half chatting.
The next morning Em led us by foot into the forest and we trekked for a couple of hours, again trying to catch some fish but not succeeding. The density of the trees became apparent, as well as the length of the lake, as we walked for a couple of hours in crisp morning heat before jumping back on our long-tail and heading back towards the pier. The best two days out here, but completely unrelatable to much of the rest of the trip, our time spent in Khao Sok will never be forgotten, as much for the fun we made ourselves as for the stunning surroundings.
After reaching the pier, Em gave us a lift to the bus-stop. We all needed to get to Bangkok to catch a flight to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, the next day, and we'd opted for a public bus and then sleeper-train to get us there. As we arrived at the bus-stop along the side of a dusty street, the bus pulled up and had us at the station within 2 hours. We picked up some supplies of crisps, whiskey, tobacco and crisps whilst waiting for a train and whilst wandering the town i was confronted by a small Thai student whose name i forget, asking me to read him a paragraph in English from a newspaper; he wanted to record my voice and use it for practise for his teaching degree. I agreed, explaining that my accent might not serve him particularly well, but he gratefully offered me a red-bull and a banana-leaf cigarette in exchange for my voice. The paragraph detailed a ceasefire between Thailand and Cambodia after a small fight on their mutual border, which i told the lads must bode well for our trip the next day.
The sleeper train was a fantastic experience. We occupied half of the buffet cart until 10 p.m., playing more games of cards, this time chase-the-ace, laughing and joking over the booming sound of the carriage on the rails outside the open windows. I slept so well in my bunk that for the first time i managed to properly lucid dream: i realised i had control of myself in my dream and started hovering a few feet off the ground in front of a silent crowd, before i twitched awake.
We arrived on Khao San road having taken a tuk-tuk from the station. I managed to re-purchase my stolen Gorillaz t-shirt and we wasted time watching Arsenal beat Barcelona on a repeated game. Everyone indulged in mango shakes and breakfasts, before withdrawing our US Dollars for Cambodia and heading to the airport. Our flight lasted barely an hour, with the seatbelt sign switched off for a matter of minutes and hardly time for any of us to sleep. Touching down inPhnom Penh, we all sensed that we'd reached a very different place; the air was thick, the buildings lower and the streets more hectic. Arun and I reflected that it reminded us of Delhi, and impression that has become stronger over the last two days. The cars and motorbikes ignore all lane rules and pull impossible manouveres with grace and ease. Crossing the road was for each of us an experience in itself.
We headed towards Rory's Pub, a guesthouse along the river which hosts most of Phnom Penh's tourist stop-offs. We headed out towards some of Phnom Penh's less infamous bars, eventually landing on a trendy club called Heart of Darkness which sees Cambodians, Brits and other of all description party late in to the night. With beers at $1 we managed not to spend too much money but had a really good night out.
Despite our hangovers, we had to drag ourselves out of Rory's due to a lack of rooms. After another huge breakfast, we were all inspired to make the most of our day. I suggested that we couldn't leave without visiting the killing fields site. Everyone agreed except Rory, who correctly opted out having done the experience once before, whilst Arun, Cam, Rich and I discovered for ourselves why it might be the kind of thing to only do once. We hired a tuk-tuk which drove us steadily away from the city centre of Phnom Penh, where guesthouses and pubs meet tiny rickety shops with tin stalls out front, broken only by the occassional huge, glass-fronted Toyota dealership or "Official Apple Retailer." On reaching the edge of town, the roads became dustier and the shops less clean, and we were led towards the site of the killing fields.
Immediately, what is striking is how small the area is. Thousands of people lost their lives here, yet the entire site can be taken in one photo. A tall, unspectacular moument stands in the middle of the site, with 17 layers of skulls stacked 30 metres into the air. We then whicked across town to the prison , which detailed further the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1979. Known as S-21, it was easy to see how Pol-Pot had ordered the conversion of a modern school building in to an oppressive prison with no space and barbed wire covering the windows the prevent prisoners jumping. I headed down the coridor and accidentally found myself at a locked gate. The familiar pang of fear shot through me as i felt like i was somewhere i shouldn't be, and as that happened i turned a corner to see hundreds of pictures of prisoners, from child to elderly, staring right at me. The fear disappated as i looked at their faces, some scared, some blank, some even smiling. Not knowing their fate.
Monday
[Goal of the season]
Amy and Sarah had left Ko Pha-Ngang on Februry 8th, leaving Arun and I to spend the day to ourselves. Feeling settled at Boom's, we decided to experience this place properly for one last time, chatting all day with Nok, who teased Arun and properly introduced us to her dogs and puppies. As we ate lunch, the pups played around our feet, perhaps becoming more familiar with us and making us feel all the more a part of their family. Nok told us about the time she had spent living in Germany and learning English; she now finds some Thai customs strange, but she admitted that she still saw many European customs as silly. After a walk to town through the scorching heat which made my muscles ache thanks to the previous days' kayaking, we both slumped in to deck chairs on the private beach at Boom's. Arun and I were both reading books by Barack Obama. As the sun disappeared behind the trees and then over the horizon, the fishing boats which Nok said came too close to the beach sailed home, and Arun and I drifted in to conversation about family, home, and our ambitions. Hanging out together has been as good as ever.
We were up early the next day to begin our journey to Krabi, which was supposed to be over by 5.30 p.m. but actually ended closer to midnight. Bidding the staff at Boom's Cafe a fond farewell, we saddled up, feeling refreshed after the relaxing day before. We were both relishing one more ride on board the Lomprayah catamaran as a taxi took us down to the pier, and the ride across to the mainland was perfectly smooth so we got ourselves a couple of beers and hit the top deck to catch the breeze. Once we arrived at the port-town of Don Sak, a gang of us who'd bought the same ticket down to Krabi were escorted straight past the mini-bus we'd been promised and herded on to a dubious looking bus. We chatted to a couple of older German guys, jokingly reassuring each other that despite our dodgy transport, we'd all get to Krabi in one piece.
This, at least we were right about, but as the bus began to divert away from the main highways and through seemingly every small town on the way, stopping regularly to pick up monks and schoolchildren, it became apparent to another one of the English people on our journey that we'd been somewhat scammed. We were over two hours late when someone eventually asked the driver where we were (it was dark now, and Thai road signs only get harder to read at night). He gamely agreed to stop and let us all have a smoke outside a petrol station, before explaining that we were about two more hours away. The scam was confirmed when we got dumped in a grimey bus station a further 20 minutes from Krabi.
So, we were mildly scammed, but still in high-spirits thanks to the stunning vistas that greeted us on the way in to our destination, a small market town on the south-west coast of Thailand. Krabi's hostels were pretty fully booked and we were struggling to find any rooms at all. "The next tourist we see, we'll ask," I said to Arun, and almost immediately we bumped in to a couple of American girls, Kate and Erin, who helped us find a modest little place which only charged us 100baht per night each. We booked up, and then followed the girls down to the night-market to grab some food. A genuinely Thai experience, this place hummed quietly with a consistent shift of customers both Thai and tourist wandering between the roughly 50 food stalls, all of which served a huge variety of fresh seafood, kebabs and noodles. At times we sat, at other times we walked until we could salivate no more, at which point we sat and ordered again. Arun, the girls and I had a great laugh, mainly jibing each others' country and language, and we were introduced to the Thai guys called Boom and Tom they'd met that day. Tom insisted that we go and get drinks at his friend's place, "Some Bar," telling us repeatedly that it'd be "fucking cool man!" He didn't disappoint.
The next day Arun and I grabbed some fantastic breakfast with the Americans, and once they departed for the nearby beach we visited "Arun's Restaurant" before booking our boat ticket to Ko Phi-Phi with the main boat man of the area, Ali, a round, smiley guy who spoke an entertaining strand of English. Later, once the Americans returned, we all headed once again to the night market, this time eating even more adventurously and becoming even more astounded at the cheap prices. My note from Nok warning people away from feeding me nuts came in handy. After this, we walked up to an awesome little reggae bar called "Fu Bar" owned by a Thai-rasta called Mr. Wood. Kate, Erin, Tom, Arun and I got some drinks and got stuck in to a hugely competitve game of Jenga which I eventually lost. We were joined by a Swede named Sebastian (who confirmed that Swedes think Julian Assange is innocent, "the only news story i'm following out here," I told Seb) and once again had a great laugh until the wee-hours.
The next day we had to shoot off early again, waving another bunch of international friends off, but not before one more trip to "Arun's Restaurant." The boat we arrived at, whilst looking a little rickety at first, glided so smoothly across to our next island that we both flashed each other a look of surprise upon arrival. Ko Phi-Phi, on the surface, is the most stunning island we've been to yet, with sheer cliffs lined with bright green trees and crystal clear waters full of fish, only disturbed by the huge volume of boat traffic. The reason for all the boats became obvious once we stepped on to the pier - the entire island is devoid of traffic, people only walking, cycling or pushing karts around. As we walked to our accomodation, found after much searching by a nice travel agent called Top, the frantic development going on on the island caught us by surprise. Guest Houses, restaurants and bars of massively varying themes are everywhere, poking out from behind one another around infinite little alleys. The blazing heat was clearly more hot than where we'd been before making the island as busy as it can get, and after walking past dozens of guest houses with "full" signs outside we eventually arrived at Tropical Gardens. Once again we'd found ourselves a secluded little jungle-bungalow not far from the action but far enough to relax at will, this time with a small pool replacing the beach. We'd landed on our feet again, we decided.
We soaked up the atmosphere of the island, deciding that whilst it's completely tourist-dominated, the relaxed vibe that results is completely unique. We continued wandering (with a huge sleep inbetween) for the next two days, visiting little food markets and taking in mango shakes on the beach, before heading out that evening for a big night. We started by watching some football, marvelling as Wayne Rooney scored the goal of the season and seemingly inspired the whole island to cheer simultaneously, each one of the bars eminating cries of "did you see that?!" We moved on, grabbing a bucket each whilst watching Arsenal win, and we then once again went to meet up with Amy and Sarah who'd arrived on Phi-Phi earlier that day. We caught them on the main beach, where four cool bars compete for attention; we chose "Slinky's" for its awesome sound system and danced on a platform until the morning. The night was the best beach party we'd been to since arriving in Thailand and the night was only marred by Amy's losing her purse, fortunately with only hard card inside. I had my new Gorillaz t-shirt pinched, but have been told to stop complaining about this.
Having lost their room key, Amy and Sarah came back to Tropical Gardens with us and valiantly helped me through a bottle of Thai whiskey. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and was denied a bed, instead perching on a bench on our balcony and drinking, chatting to whoever happened to be awake at the time. I caught up on some sleep that morning once the girls had gone to re-open their room, but woke before i'd had a chance as Rory and his friend Rich called to let us know that they'd be on the island. Before meeting them, i sat down to have some breakfast and chatted to one of our Aussie neighbours from our huts, a young artist called Lani. We decided to hang around for the day so that she could meet everyone.
Arun and I were buzzing as we walked down to the pier to meet Rory and Rich, and after exchanging big hugs and handshakes we were introduced to a bunch of other guys they'd met on their way to the island - Cam from Canada, Helen from Germany via Oz, and Monica from London. The gang of us found them a place to stay, again through Top, our travel agent who grew increasingly friendly as we enlarged his customer base. Outside their room, Lani caught up with us and as we turned to introduce her to everyone, we literally bumped in to Sarah and Naomi, our dubstep friends that we'd met on Ko Tao. Arun and I took a look at each other, finding it impossible not to show our joy at suddenly having a great bunch of people around us from all over the place, and as we all introduced and exchanged smiles and hugs, the sense that we were not just having a good time crept in - that we might, in fact, be having a better time than we could have ever expected.
We were up early the next day to begin our journey to Krabi, which was supposed to be over by 5.30 p.m. but actually ended closer to midnight. Bidding the staff at Boom's Cafe a fond farewell, we saddled up, feeling refreshed after the relaxing day before. We were both relishing one more ride on board the Lomprayah catamaran as a taxi took us down to the pier, and the ride across to the mainland was perfectly smooth so we got ourselves a couple of beers and hit the top deck to catch the breeze. Once we arrived at the port-town of Don Sak, a gang of us who'd bought the same ticket down to Krabi were escorted straight past the mini-bus we'd been promised and herded on to a dubious looking bus. We chatted to a couple of older German guys, jokingly reassuring each other that despite our dodgy transport, we'd all get to Krabi in one piece.
This, at least we were right about, but as the bus began to divert away from the main highways and through seemingly every small town on the way, stopping regularly to pick up monks and schoolchildren, it became apparent to another one of the English people on our journey that we'd been somewhat scammed. We were over two hours late when someone eventually asked the driver where we were (it was dark now, and Thai road signs only get harder to read at night). He gamely agreed to stop and let us all have a smoke outside a petrol station, before explaining that we were about two more hours away. The scam was confirmed when we got dumped in a grimey bus station a further 20 minutes from Krabi.
So, we were mildly scammed, but still in high-spirits thanks to the stunning vistas that greeted us on the way in to our destination, a small market town on the south-west coast of Thailand. Krabi's hostels were pretty fully booked and we were struggling to find any rooms at all. "The next tourist we see, we'll ask," I said to Arun, and almost immediately we bumped in to a couple of American girls, Kate and Erin, who helped us find a modest little place which only charged us 100baht per night each. We booked up, and then followed the girls down to the night-market to grab some food. A genuinely Thai experience, this place hummed quietly with a consistent shift of customers both Thai and tourist wandering between the roughly 50 food stalls, all of which served a huge variety of fresh seafood, kebabs and noodles. At times we sat, at other times we walked until we could salivate no more, at which point we sat and ordered again. Arun, the girls and I had a great laugh, mainly jibing each others' country and language, and we were introduced to the Thai guys called Boom and Tom they'd met that day. Tom insisted that we go and get drinks at his friend's place, "Some Bar," telling us repeatedly that it'd be "fucking cool man!" He didn't disappoint.
The next day Arun and I grabbed some fantastic breakfast with the Americans, and once they departed for the nearby beach we visited "Arun's Restaurant" before booking our boat ticket to Ko Phi-Phi with the main boat man of the area, Ali, a round, smiley guy who spoke an entertaining strand of English. Later, once the Americans returned, we all headed once again to the night market, this time eating even more adventurously and becoming even more astounded at the cheap prices. My note from Nok warning people away from feeding me nuts came in handy. After this, we walked up to an awesome little reggae bar called "Fu Bar" owned by a Thai-rasta called Mr. Wood. Kate, Erin, Tom, Arun and I got some drinks and got stuck in to a hugely competitve game of Jenga which I eventually lost. We were joined by a Swede named Sebastian (who confirmed that Swedes think Julian Assange is innocent, "the only news story i'm following out here," I told Seb) and once again had a great laugh until the wee-hours.
The next day we had to shoot off early again, waving another bunch of international friends off, but not before one more trip to "Arun's Restaurant." The boat we arrived at, whilst looking a little rickety at first, glided so smoothly across to our next island that we both flashed each other a look of surprise upon arrival. Ko Phi-Phi, on the surface, is the most stunning island we've been to yet, with sheer cliffs lined with bright green trees and crystal clear waters full of fish, only disturbed by the huge volume of boat traffic. The reason for all the boats became obvious once we stepped on to the pier - the entire island is devoid of traffic, people only walking, cycling or pushing karts around. As we walked to our accomodation, found after much searching by a nice travel agent called Top, the frantic development going on on the island caught us by surprise. Guest Houses, restaurants and bars of massively varying themes are everywhere, poking out from behind one another around infinite little alleys. The blazing heat was clearly more hot than where we'd been before making the island as busy as it can get, and after walking past dozens of guest houses with "full" signs outside we eventually arrived at Tropical Gardens. Once again we'd found ourselves a secluded little jungle-bungalow not far from the action but far enough to relax at will, this time with a small pool replacing the beach. We'd landed on our feet again, we decided.
We soaked up the atmosphere of the island, deciding that whilst it's completely tourist-dominated, the relaxed vibe that results is completely unique. We continued wandering (with a huge sleep inbetween) for the next two days, visiting little food markets and taking in mango shakes on the beach, before heading out that evening for a big night. We started by watching some football, marvelling as Wayne Rooney scored the goal of the season and seemingly inspired the whole island to cheer simultaneously, each one of the bars eminating cries of "did you see that?!" We moved on, grabbing a bucket each whilst watching Arsenal win, and we then once again went to meet up with Amy and Sarah who'd arrived on Phi-Phi earlier that day. We caught them on the main beach, where four cool bars compete for attention; we chose "Slinky's" for its awesome sound system and danced on a platform until the morning. The night was the best beach party we'd been to since arriving in Thailand and the night was only marred by Amy's losing her purse, fortunately with only hard card inside. I had my new Gorillaz t-shirt pinched, but have been told to stop complaining about this.
Having lost their room key, Amy and Sarah came back to Tropical Gardens with us and valiantly helped me through a bottle of Thai whiskey. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and was denied a bed, instead perching on a bench on our balcony and drinking, chatting to whoever happened to be awake at the time. I caught up on some sleep that morning once the girls had gone to re-open their room, but woke before i'd had a chance as Rory and his friend Rich called to let us know that they'd be on the island. Before meeting them, i sat down to have some breakfast and chatted to one of our Aussie neighbours from our huts, a young artist called Lani. We decided to hang around for the day so that she could meet everyone.
Arun and I were buzzing as we walked down to the pier to meet Rory and Rich, and after exchanging big hugs and handshakes we were introduced to a bunch of other guys they'd met on their way to the island - Cam from Canada, Helen from Germany via Oz, and Monica from London. The gang of us found them a place to stay, again through Top, our travel agent who grew increasingly friendly as we enlarged his customer base. Outside their room, Lani caught up with us and as we turned to introduce her to everyone, we literally bumped in to Sarah and Naomi, our dubstep friends that we'd met on Ko Tao. Arun and I took a look at each other, finding it impossible not to show our joy at suddenly having a great bunch of people around us from all over the place, and as we all introduced and exchanged smiles and hugs, the sense that we were not just having a good time crept in - that we might, in fact, be having a better time than we could have ever expected.
[May contain reference to (legal) drugs]
We kicked back in paradise for the day, knowing that we had a couple of buckets each ahead of us that night. We had no pre-conceptions about the Black Moon Party, but it seemed like the sensible option as it was the 'moon' party that was on whilst we were in Ko Pha-Ngang.
Hanging out at Boom's Bungalows was a treat in itself. It's a secluded little place set right down in the jungle (but only 3 minutes from the main road) and you get the feeling that some of the residents might have been staying there for years. Nok, the lady who runs the place and mothers the two of us, makes the tourist towns seem a million miles away from a good time by giving you a family atmosphere and good, Thai, home-cooked food. This, it has to be said, is not entirely representative of Ko Pha-Ngang itself, which is something of a party island. And whilst we were more than in the mood for a party, both my wallet and my mind could not stand the thought of raving for 3 months straight. It would be a waste of time.
However, we rocked up at about midnight and were greeted by a 500baht entrance fee. "Once in a lifetime?" i said to Arun, and we coughed up for that, and then a bucket each. As the night went on though, it became apparent that the one stage of techno was not going to change pace. We split up and got chatting to various people.
I woke up alone in our bungalow at about 8 a.m. after two hours' sleep to the sound of knocking at the door. I presumed that i'd see Arun stumble in but on opening the door, one of the dogs from the bungalows wandered in between my legs and bedded down for the night. In my haze I let this go on. It turned out the next day that Arun had sped off to the other side of the island on a solo adventure with some new friends and was too drunk, then too hungover, to face crawling back. I settled in to a recovery day alone; I was more than recovered by the time i'd read a mis-printed version of "The Quiet American," an amazing book about Vietnam in the 50's which i finished that day. Ten hours in a hammock really gets rid of the Red Bull blues.
Arun and I agreed to meet the next day on Had Rin beach, the location of the famous Full Moon Party that, after the disappointment of the Black Moon, we've pretty much settled on returning for in either March or April. It's a stunning, long, golden beach, and we looked out at it from midday til midnight from a bar up in the mountain. Known as "Magic Mountain," this place is infamous in that it tolerates weed and magic mushrooms and these are sold over the bar, so i decided to indulge in both. A bunch of people who were sat around joined us, including Adam the American who was on holiday from Shang-hai with his girlfriend, and we all sat around watching the beautiful sky and the fire-spinners on the beach whilst talking genius insanity for hours. The guys who'd drank more mushroom-shakes than me had a really nice, civilised trip whilst i decided to smoke up and spent the day nicely stoned. It really was the final nail in the coffin for alcohol; it's impossible to see why that's the legal drug back home. We were eventually joined by a couple of Arun's friends from University, Sarah and Amy, who agreed that the bar in the mountain truly is a lovely place.
After both enjoying our first big sleeps, we again caught up with Sarah and Amy and headed up to the part of the island in the north where Arun had found himself a few nights before. It's called Had Yao and it gives a glimpse of the future of these little islands in south-east Thailand with big, fashionable complexes and (relatively) expensive restaurants. It's easy to see why as, once you leave Had Rin and the main tourist part of the island, Ko Pha-Ngang's beauty shines through the grotty huts and half-torn posters of last week's rave. The mountains are dense with trees and from the beach we could still hear the familiar screams of all kinds of birds i don't know. The beach here was pristine and the water like a warm bath. We hired some cheap snorkeling gear and took a dip which was a great way to spend the day but would later be eclipsed by another snorkeling trip. That evening, the four of us sat facing out to sea whilst eating dinner and watching the very best fire-spinner we'd seen yet. He was called Jack and his little brother Charlie also rocked. The last thing we did in Had Yao was to book a trip for the following day to Ang Thong National Marine Park...
Ang Thong
It was an early start for our day-trip out to the marine park, and we were picked up by our lively guide, who called himself "Tiger Woods," at 8 in the morning. The girls jumped in on the way and we were off on a genuine adventure.
I'd been buzzing with excitement the whole night before about this trip because it felt like the first unique experience we were going to have in Thailand so far. Tiger drove a group of us out to the bay, where we hopped on his speedboat and jetted and bounced across the sea towards Ang Thong. The park itself is a collection of rocky mountains that jut out from the sea; they have been specially preserved to the extent that it's almost impossible to stay there for more than a day at a time. We approached at around 10a.m. and were greeted by spectacular, spiky hills, again dense with trees and the sounds of birds calling. We moored on an empty beach and our guide led us towards the beginning of a hill-trek - 500 metres into the jungle top. There were viewing points at each hundred metres upward, and the trek became more and more precarious as we went. Both on the way up and the way down we crossed paths with a small family of black monkeys who took the time to check us out from the canopy, before skipping off in to the jungle. At the summit, we had to climb by hand and foot over some jagged rocks and once we made it and i'd rolled myself a congratulatory cigarette, we stood in awe at the beauty of the park. The sea barely moved and shone back up at us, whilst each island-ette contained a thick dusting of trees on all sides.
Back down, back on the speedboat, and off to the Emerald Lake. Tiger said that if we didn't visit the Emerald Lake whilst we were here, "then no point in coming you fool!" It didn't disappoint. From a viewing point about 100 metres up the land-locked seawater lake glistened blue and green and was evidently untouched. "No-one knows what fish are inside," Tiger said.
After a hearty Thai lunch with rice on yet another empty, perfect beach, Arun and I jumped in a two-man kayak and proceeded to fly around about a quarter of the Marine Park in an hour. Despite neither of us being the fittest, we're no kayak-slouches and the size of the place only really hit home at this point. Exhausted and with the sun beating down, we were grateful to hop back on the boat and zip around the corner to a snorkeling location. Tiger chucked some bread in the water and immediately more fish than I've ever seen in my life jumped out of the water, fighting over the crumbs. We jumped straight in and snorkeled for around an hour, barely lifting our heads out of the water, fascinated to watch dozens of varieties of fish swimming right in front of us above a wonderfully preserved sea bed. After this, Tiger's speedboat bounced us home across rough sea waters.
It seems that for me, the reputations of the two islands we've visited were reversed. Having partied on Ko Tao and not much else (and then gotten ill), i felt down about the trip as a whole and longed for some adventure to complement my Bacardi buckets. On Ko Pha-Ngang, we found it. Tonight we sleep back at jungle-seclusion of Boom's Bungalows, tomorrow we head south, to Krabi on the mainland.
Hanging out at Boom's Bungalows was a treat in itself. It's a secluded little place set right down in the jungle (but only 3 minutes from the main road) and you get the feeling that some of the residents might have been staying there for years. Nok, the lady who runs the place and mothers the two of us, makes the tourist towns seem a million miles away from a good time by giving you a family atmosphere and good, Thai, home-cooked food. This, it has to be said, is not entirely representative of Ko Pha-Ngang itself, which is something of a party island. And whilst we were more than in the mood for a party, both my wallet and my mind could not stand the thought of raving for 3 months straight. It would be a waste of time.
However, we rocked up at about midnight and were greeted by a 500baht entrance fee. "Once in a lifetime?" i said to Arun, and we coughed up for that, and then a bucket each. As the night went on though, it became apparent that the one stage of techno was not going to change pace. We split up and got chatting to various people.
I woke up alone in our bungalow at about 8 a.m. after two hours' sleep to the sound of knocking at the door. I presumed that i'd see Arun stumble in but on opening the door, one of the dogs from the bungalows wandered in between my legs and bedded down for the night. In my haze I let this go on. It turned out the next day that Arun had sped off to the other side of the island on a solo adventure with some new friends and was too drunk, then too hungover, to face crawling back. I settled in to a recovery day alone; I was more than recovered by the time i'd read a mis-printed version of "The Quiet American," an amazing book about Vietnam in the 50's which i finished that day. Ten hours in a hammock really gets rid of the Red Bull blues.
Arun and I agreed to meet the next day on Had Rin beach, the location of the famous Full Moon Party that, after the disappointment of the Black Moon, we've pretty much settled on returning for in either March or April. It's a stunning, long, golden beach, and we looked out at it from midday til midnight from a bar up in the mountain. Known as "Magic Mountain," this place is infamous in that it tolerates weed and magic mushrooms and these are sold over the bar, so i decided to indulge in both. A bunch of people who were sat around joined us, including Adam the American who was on holiday from Shang-hai with his girlfriend, and we all sat around watching the beautiful sky and the fire-spinners on the beach whilst talking genius insanity for hours. The guys who'd drank more mushroom-shakes than me had a really nice, civilised trip whilst i decided to smoke up and spent the day nicely stoned. It really was the final nail in the coffin for alcohol; it's impossible to see why that's the legal drug back home. We were eventually joined by a couple of Arun's friends from University, Sarah and Amy, who agreed that the bar in the mountain truly is a lovely place.
After both enjoying our first big sleeps, we again caught up with Sarah and Amy and headed up to the part of the island in the north where Arun had found himself a few nights before. It's called Had Yao and it gives a glimpse of the future of these little islands in south-east Thailand with big, fashionable complexes and (relatively) expensive restaurants. It's easy to see why as, once you leave Had Rin and the main tourist part of the island, Ko Pha-Ngang's beauty shines through the grotty huts and half-torn posters of last week's rave. The mountains are dense with trees and from the beach we could still hear the familiar screams of all kinds of birds i don't know. The beach here was pristine and the water like a warm bath. We hired some cheap snorkeling gear and took a dip which was a great way to spend the day but would later be eclipsed by another snorkeling trip. That evening, the four of us sat facing out to sea whilst eating dinner and watching the very best fire-spinner we'd seen yet. He was called Jack and his little brother Charlie also rocked. The last thing we did in Had Yao was to book a trip for the following day to Ang Thong National Marine Park...
Ang Thong
It was an early start for our day-trip out to the marine park, and we were picked up by our lively guide, who called himself "Tiger Woods," at 8 in the morning. The girls jumped in on the way and we were off on a genuine adventure.
I'd been buzzing with excitement the whole night before about this trip because it felt like the first unique experience we were going to have in Thailand so far. Tiger drove a group of us out to the bay, where we hopped on his speedboat and jetted and bounced across the sea towards Ang Thong. The park itself is a collection of rocky mountains that jut out from the sea; they have been specially preserved to the extent that it's almost impossible to stay there for more than a day at a time. We approached at around 10a.m. and were greeted by spectacular, spiky hills, again dense with trees and the sounds of birds calling. We moored on an empty beach and our guide led us towards the beginning of a hill-trek - 500 metres into the jungle top. There were viewing points at each hundred metres upward, and the trek became more and more precarious as we went. Both on the way up and the way down we crossed paths with a small family of black monkeys who took the time to check us out from the canopy, before skipping off in to the jungle. At the summit, we had to climb by hand and foot over some jagged rocks and once we made it and i'd rolled myself a congratulatory cigarette, we stood in awe at the beauty of the park. The sea barely moved and shone back up at us, whilst each island-ette contained a thick dusting of trees on all sides.
Back down, back on the speedboat, and off to the Emerald Lake. Tiger said that if we didn't visit the Emerald Lake whilst we were here, "then no point in coming you fool!" It didn't disappoint. From a viewing point about 100 metres up the land-locked seawater lake glistened blue and green and was evidently untouched. "No-one knows what fish are inside," Tiger said.
After a hearty Thai lunch with rice on yet another empty, perfect beach, Arun and I jumped in a two-man kayak and proceeded to fly around about a quarter of the Marine Park in an hour. Despite neither of us being the fittest, we're no kayak-slouches and the size of the place only really hit home at this point. Exhausted and with the sun beating down, we were grateful to hop back on the boat and zip around the corner to a snorkeling location. Tiger chucked some bread in the water and immediately more fish than I've ever seen in my life jumped out of the water, fighting over the crumbs. We jumped straight in and snorkeled for around an hour, barely lifting our heads out of the water, fascinated to watch dozens of varieties of fish swimming right in front of us above a wonderfully preserved sea bed. After this, Tiger's speedboat bounced us home across rough sea waters.
It seems that for me, the reputations of the two islands we've visited were reversed. Having partied on Ko Tao and not much else (and then gotten ill), i felt down about the trip as a whole and longed for some adventure to complement my Bacardi buckets. On Ko Pha-Ngang, we found it. Tonight we sleep back at jungle-seclusion of Boom's Bungalows, tomorrow we head south, to Krabi on the mainland.
Thursday
[Ta, Koh Tao, and ta-ta for now}
The last week of the trip has been more revealing than we, or at least I, could have expected at this stage.
It began at the end of our Bangkok experience. Emerging early to finally check out of the god-awful MarcoPolo hostel, we dropped our bags with the lovely Giftzy and decided to take a similar, slow trek to the previous day, this time heading for the famous Grand Palace. As we arrived at the huge complex, it became apparent that we were in a strict area; I had to replace my long-shorts with some novel trousers which, according to Arun, I just pulled off. Admittedly, after a few hours wandering around the assorted buildings of the palace we were a little non-plussed. The decadence of every single building, all clad in tiny shards of gold, seemed completely at odds with everything else in Bangkok, including the beautifully intricate Wat Arun which we'd visited the day before. It makes Buckingham Palace seem like some kind of office-block. Whilst everything was impressive enough, any semblence of atmopshere was almost ruined by the ridiculousness of it all. For us, the real redeeming part was the 'Temple of the Emerald Buddha' which houses, believe it or not, a small emerald statue of the Buddha and is a place of great reverence for the monks. We sat in here for 30 minutes or more, our toes pointed away from the statue, and it was an uplifting experience.
After a long, slow trek home we decided to treat ourselves to a very Western pizza lunch in a very Western pizza house. We were killing time before our night-bus to Chumphon, which would drop us off at the boat to Koh Tao. We kicked our heels along Khao San Road one more time, played some pool, and before we knew it we were waiting with a girl named Carrie for the bus. She was 'super-excited' about getting to Koh Tao, as the tiny island in the south of Thailand is the diving capital of the world. Carrie was about to complete her diving-instructor course and begin living on the island for an indefinite time, a hobbie we discovered is extremely common on Tao.
Once we'd helped carry Carrie's bags on to the bus, we sat and were grateful to Giftzy for setting us up with awesome seats at the front of the bus. We chatted to Jessie, a lady who owned a bar on the island, and this got us both excited about the place. As Star Trek played in front of us, we both got limited amounts of sleep (Arun more than I, shockingly) and only really woke up for a quick stop in a town called Hua Hin. Here we met a guy who we'd eventually befriend on Koh Tao - Joeirie the Dutch dude who'd, as he put it, "gotten the Rasta" and had dreds put into his hair. We took his number but were amused to discover that he'd accidentally booked accomodation in Phuket.
We eventually reached the island after a fairly rough catamaran ride aboard the legendary Lomprayah; conditions were sketchy on the islands but over the coming days we'd largely get away with it. As we departed the boat we broke into hilarity as Joerie texted us saying, "Hey guys, i decided to go to Koh Pha-Ngang instead, wanna have a drink?" We gently let him down, saying that he'd again gotten the wrong island.
We immediately sensed the beauty of this place; all rolling, lush hills and secluded beach bungalows. The accomodation that Giftzy had recommended didn't disappoint either. Most of the activity on the island, and the location for our next few days, happens right along one side on the awesome Sairee beach. Bars and restaurants abound, and each would become steadily busier during our stay. We decided that we'd have a quiet drink at Jessie's bar on our first night, which she kindly gave us for free. Exhausted after the trip, we lounged here with our free beer, soaking up the sunset. At this point, Arun asked a flippant question that was, for me at least, to become more and more relevant over the next few days. "Why are we on Koh Tao?" he said, not sounding pessimistic but more genuinely inquisitive. Ostensibly, we wanted to relax after Bangkok. But the question still stood. By the end, each of us would have our reason.
I got some dinner alone as Arun napped, and bought myself a bottle to drink on our balcony. The next day, we lugged our stuff up the Sairee beach in order to be in the middle of the action. We settled on some basic clay bungalows which were very reasonble, so we got one room each. Later on we met up with Carrie and her friend and enjoyed some beers, but here the limits of Koh Tao began to appear. As a completely dive-centric island, we both pondered how we'd spend our time here, other than nursing a beer. Again, we did not want to seem pessimistic or ungrateful; we were more curious than anything.
We took in a film over dinner at a cool little Mexican bar, then headed up to the beach party we'd been invited to by Jessie. It was an 'F' party, so i decided i was 'The Fool' and Arun was 'The Foreigner.' This sufficed. I lived up to my moniker by dancing my feet raw until 6 a.m. The party was nice but it felt a little underwhelming with only a couple of dozen joining us there and few friends made.
The next day, the two week mark of our trip, was spent in recovery mode. Whilst the party had been merely okay, the consumption had been spectacular. We wandered Sairee in much the same manner as we'd wandered Khao San Road, except in this place we had a beautiful beach waiting for us any time we needed our eyes to escape into the horizon. We finished the day in the little Mexican place watching Adam Sandler in 'Grown Ups,' a film so "nice" that we calmly drifted back to our bungalows and to sleep.
Joerie texted us early the next morning, letting us know that he'd finally be able to join us on Koh Tao. So we waited for him at the pier at around 2, like he'd said, except he was late and we were at the wrong pier. Finally, we found him, and caught ourselves a taxi up to the huts. Another beach party beckoned tonight, so the three of us got to kow one another over dinner and generally had a laugh, a credit to Joerie's English. As we slowly headed to the party and got some drinks there (in "bucket" form, as desribed earlier) it became apparent that tonight's vibe was much more to our tastes, so we truly got funky. The nght was going fine when i decided to take a seat on a log on the beach, and was promptly happy-slapped by some geezer who got off quickly. This, in my state, quite upset me and the question of "Why are we on Koh Tao?" arose for me as i contemplated the difference between this, and a night out in Bournemouth. Arun talked me round, and we danced til dawn.
I was pissed off the next morning, and i attributed only half of this to my hangover. "Why are we on Koh Tao?" i asked myself, thinking that even without the sour note of the party last night, I'd aimed for more than parties on this trip. Whilst Joerie and Arun chilled in the sea, braving it through another recovery day, i delved into my book and sat on the beach.
Joerie wanted to check out a bar he'd managed to get a DJ slot at, and after dinner he did just that. Whilst my mood was not at its best and Arun was still feeling the night before, we joined him for support and were genuinely not disappointed. He played some awesome hip-hop tunes as we filmed him getting on down. Unfortunately, the bar was a little dead and the atmosphere didn't quite match his set. Little did Arun and I know, but what followed was going to be a genuine treat. A few young Brits had rocked up ; apparently one of them was the only dubstep DJ on the island and he was up next. So, as we high-fived Joerie on his performance, this kid from London got up on the decks and proceeded to smash it for the next 4 hours. We didn't leave for a second, and hung out with the young Brits, Sarah, Jack and Naomi, forming a 5-person rave. Joerie decided to give a little culture clash to the night and threw down some fairly awesome dutch lyrics over the top. At the end of this night I felt better in general, presuming that hair-of-the-dog and some decent tunes had lifted me.
At half-8 the next morning, I got up and ran to the bathroom. This was the end of my next couple of days, as evidently the chicken-stick i'd bought last night had given me food poisoning. I spent the morning waiting for Arun and Joerie to wake and save me, lying face down on my bed in between bouts of bathroom-emergency. Whilst the boys were angels and fixed me up with medicine, the rest of my day, i knew, was a write-off. For hours i stared at my fan going back and forth. "Why am I on Koh Tao?" i thought. I'd experienced little Thai culture, as the island complexes are half-owned by Brits and Aussies. I'd had enough of beers, of bars, of beaches. And after about three hours reading i'd finished my book. At times, "The Man in the High Tower" by Philip K. Dick was inspirational - my feverish delirium only adding to this experience. But, "Why am I on Koh Tao?" I could read at home. Arun and Joerie had apparently had a wonderful day, snorkelling and playing chess on the beach. I'd have loved those things, but in my humid, bright, pink bedroom-come-asylum any thought of travelling-type experiences seemed miles away. I didn't eat all day, save a packet of Maltesers i'd managed to muster the energy to buy.
Whilst some would say that not eating is a bad idea, I say it was a great idea this once, as, thanks to the medicine, I woke up the next day with a genuine appetite. Gingerly i made it down to breakfast, admirably joined by Arun who'd raved through another party (this one a slight disappointment again, but again full of drinks). He'd slept about 3 hours, and I'd barely slept more than 20 minutes at a time, but still we both checked out on time. As we sat and ate on the beach, i opened up to him my fears about the trip. "Why are we here?" I asked, wondering if i could hack any more partying, knowing that we were headed for party-centric Koh Pha-Ngang that day. He calmly reassured me, but my mood got the better of me and i was blinded to any future hope for the trip. This, you'll be glad to know, was rock-bottom.
Once Joerie rose, and my mood was everso slightly raised, the three of us headed to another bar to grab a light second-breakfast, which my gut was grateful for, and here we met Ben, a genuinely interesting Aussie fella who i chatted to about work and Wikileaks. We both love Assange.
Arun had booked our ticket on the Lomprayah the day before, and we due to leave at 2. So, luggage heavily in tow, we bid a fond farewell to Joerie, who'd been exactly the kind of friend you want to make out here, although at the time my mood again clouded my perspective, and i was simply glad to be heading to a new place. As we boarded the boat, a viscious little monsoon spat down on us. Arun and I, either too lazy to move or too tired to really feel it, sat through the storm outside, both blasting tunes into our ears above the loud drone of the catamaran. We were dried by the blazing afternoon sun on the way, and I truly loved the ride across the Koh Pha-Ngang. It blew all the cobwebs away, and i realised that if i was going to enjoy anything about travelling, it might be the travelling itself. Whilst i've gotten better at flying (the flight to Bangkok caused no panic whatsoever for me), travelling by boat has always been my favourite. It's like one, long tracking-shot in a movie; everything rolls by steadily. Flying has always felt like cheating to me, cheating gravity, cheating death, but on a boat you can really feel yourself moving round the world.
As we docked on our next island, Arun was evidently exhausted but valiantly striding on. I'd spotted a decent resort in our Lonely Planet, so we headed around the ridiculous bumps and curves of the Pha-Ngang roads towards the place. When we arrived, it was an expensive resort with all the budget rooms booked out. They directed us around the corner to 'Leela Beach Bungalows,' and, both now knackered, we settled on the first 500baht (10 pounds) shared room we found. If we hadn't experienced MarcoPolo in Bangkok, i'd have thought this the worst place imaginable. The toilet door didn't close even slightly, which was not great in my current condition. We were also joined by dozens of small flies who'd made their way in through the gaping great holes in the walls.
Arun napped, and i decided to go walking in order to curb my increasing mardiness. I walked round the hill to Had Rin, the main resort on Koh Pha-Ngang and home to the infamous Full-Moon Party. As i looked for a book and some internet, i saw a road-resort which, though empty, resembled Khao San Road in every other respect. My heart sank. I was not prepared for more partying of this sort - the very British, very stupid, very loud kind. I wondered what everyone saw in this place that they couldn't get back home. Faced with the choice of this or our rough room, I wandered, getting more and more lonely. At this point i settled in an internet cafe to type out my worries, and I owe it all to Cherry back home for turning me round. Whilst still a little dismayed, after some email exchanges with her I was dtermined to let time pass, to wait for a good time.
She was right, as I truly didn't have to wait long. Today, Day 19, the 3rd of February, it all became slowly apparent. We took a look at the Lonely Planet, and tactically headed off the beaten path. We got a taxi towards our next room, stationed a couple of miles along the beach from the "Black Moon Party," the main reason we were on the island. Until today, this party had barely crossed my mind, but now it feels like it could be great. We had clearly taken a risk when we arrived at the tiny resort of "Boom Cafe," as it was down an incredibly steep slope which takes about 20 minutes to walk back up, and they only had one room left. After initially saying 'no thanks,' we turned, and faced with the prospect of going back up the hill, we decided to take the room. Good decision . It is beautiful, and the resort we're staying on is totally secluded by huge black rocks, enjoying its own tiny little bit of beach which stares out at the sunset. We took turns on our balcony hammock; we took comfotable showers; we had some lunch at the restaurant and met Nok the owner, the sweetest Thai lady we're yet to meet. When my Noodles arrived covered in nuts, she took the trouble to write out "Please don't feed me nuts, i am allergic, thankyou" in Thai on a slip of paper for my wallet.
We've decided to stay in this resort for four nights now. Tonight is the party and then we're going to kick back in paradise for a few days, maybe taking in a little kayaking at the Ang Thong National Marine Park.
So the last week was more revealing than we ever could have expected. I experienced a true low, but thanks to a few special people and a spot of secluded beauty, i do know why i'm here.
It began at the end of our Bangkok experience. Emerging early to finally check out of the god-awful MarcoPolo hostel, we dropped our bags with the lovely Giftzy and decided to take a similar, slow trek to the previous day, this time heading for the famous Grand Palace. As we arrived at the huge complex, it became apparent that we were in a strict area; I had to replace my long-shorts with some novel trousers which, according to Arun, I just pulled off. Admittedly, after a few hours wandering around the assorted buildings of the palace we were a little non-plussed. The decadence of every single building, all clad in tiny shards of gold, seemed completely at odds with everything else in Bangkok, including the beautifully intricate Wat Arun which we'd visited the day before. It makes Buckingham Palace seem like some kind of office-block. Whilst everything was impressive enough, any semblence of atmopshere was almost ruined by the ridiculousness of it all. For us, the real redeeming part was the 'Temple of the Emerald Buddha' which houses, believe it or not, a small emerald statue of the Buddha and is a place of great reverence for the monks. We sat in here for 30 minutes or more, our toes pointed away from the statue, and it was an uplifting experience.
After a long, slow trek home we decided to treat ourselves to a very Western pizza lunch in a very Western pizza house. We were killing time before our night-bus to Chumphon, which would drop us off at the boat to Koh Tao. We kicked our heels along Khao San Road one more time, played some pool, and before we knew it we were waiting with a girl named Carrie for the bus. She was 'super-excited' about getting to Koh Tao, as the tiny island in the south of Thailand is the diving capital of the world. Carrie was about to complete her diving-instructor course and begin living on the island for an indefinite time, a hobbie we discovered is extremely common on Tao.
Once we'd helped carry Carrie's bags on to the bus, we sat and were grateful to Giftzy for setting us up with awesome seats at the front of the bus. We chatted to Jessie, a lady who owned a bar on the island, and this got us both excited about the place. As Star Trek played in front of us, we both got limited amounts of sleep (Arun more than I, shockingly) and only really woke up for a quick stop in a town called Hua Hin. Here we met a guy who we'd eventually befriend on Koh Tao - Joeirie the Dutch dude who'd, as he put it, "gotten the Rasta" and had dreds put into his hair. We took his number but were amused to discover that he'd accidentally booked accomodation in Phuket.
We eventually reached the island after a fairly rough catamaran ride aboard the legendary Lomprayah; conditions were sketchy on the islands but over the coming days we'd largely get away with it. As we departed the boat we broke into hilarity as Joerie texted us saying, "Hey guys, i decided to go to Koh Pha-Ngang instead, wanna have a drink?" We gently let him down, saying that he'd again gotten the wrong island.
We immediately sensed the beauty of this place; all rolling, lush hills and secluded beach bungalows. The accomodation that Giftzy had recommended didn't disappoint either. Most of the activity on the island, and the location for our next few days, happens right along one side on the awesome Sairee beach. Bars and restaurants abound, and each would become steadily busier during our stay. We decided that we'd have a quiet drink at Jessie's bar on our first night, which she kindly gave us for free. Exhausted after the trip, we lounged here with our free beer, soaking up the sunset. At this point, Arun asked a flippant question that was, for me at least, to become more and more relevant over the next few days. "Why are we on Koh Tao?" he said, not sounding pessimistic but more genuinely inquisitive. Ostensibly, we wanted to relax after Bangkok. But the question still stood. By the end, each of us would have our reason.
I got some dinner alone as Arun napped, and bought myself a bottle to drink on our balcony. The next day, we lugged our stuff up the Sairee beach in order to be in the middle of the action. We settled on some basic clay bungalows which were very reasonble, so we got one room each. Later on we met up with Carrie and her friend and enjoyed some beers, but here the limits of Koh Tao began to appear. As a completely dive-centric island, we both pondered how we'd spend our time here, other than nursing a beer. Again, we did not want to seem pessimistic or ungrateful; we were more curious than anything.
We took in a film over dinner at a cool little Mexican bar, then headed up to the beach party we'd been invited to by Jessie. It was an 'F' party, so i decided i was 'The Fool' and Arun was 'The Foreigner.' This sufficed. I lived up to my moniker by dancing my feet raw until 6 a.m. The party was nice but it felt a little underwhelming with only a couple of dozen joining us there and few friends made.
The next day, the two week mark of our trip, was spent in recovery mode. Whilst the party had been merely okay, the consumption had been spectacular. We wandered Sairee in much the same manner as we'd wandered Khao San Road, except in this place we had a beautiful beach waiting for us any time we needed our eyes to escape into the horizon. We finished the day in the little Mexican place watching Adam Sandler in 'Grown Ups,' a film so "nice" that we calmly drifted back to our bungalows and to sleep.
Joerie texted us early the next morning, letting us know that he'd finally be able to join us on Koh Tao. So we waited for him at the pier at around 2, like he'd said, except he was late and we were at the wrong pier. Finally, we found him, and caught ourselves a taxi up to the huts. Another beach party beckoned tonight, so the three of us got to kow one another over dinner and generally had a laugh, a credit to Joerie's English. As we slowly headed to the party and got some drinks there (in "bucket" form, as desribed earlier) it became apparent that tonight's vibe was much more to our tastes, so we truly got funky. The nght was going fine when i decided to take a seat on a log on the beach, and was promptly happy-slapped by some geezer who got off quickly. This, in my state, quite upset me and the question of "Why are we on Koh Tao?" arose for me as i contemplated the difference between this, and a night out in Bournemouth. Arun talked me round, and we danced til dawn.
I was pissed off the next morning, and i attributed only half of this to my hangover. "Why are we on Koh Tao?" i asked myself, thinking that even without the sour note of the party last night, I'd aimed for more than parties on this trip. Whilst Joerie and Arun chilled in the sea, braving it through another recovery day, i delved into my book and sat on the beach.
Joerie wanted to check out a bar he'd managed to get a DJ slot at, and after dinner he did just that. Whilst my mood was not at its best and Arun was still feeling the night before, we joined him for support and were genuinely not disappointed. He played some awesome hip-hop tunes as we filmed him getting on down. Unfortunately, the bar was a little dead and the atmosphere didn't quite match his set. Little did Arun and I know, but what followed was going to be a genuine treat. A few young Brits had rocked up ; apparently one of them was the only dubstep DJ on the island and he was up next. So, as we high-fived Joerie on his performance, this kid from London got up on the decks and proceeded to smash it for the next 4 hours. We didn't leave for a second, and hung out with the young Brits, Sarah, Jack and Naomi, forming a 5-person rave. Joerie decided to give a little culture clash to the night and threw down some fairly awesome dutch lyrics over the top. At the end of this night I felt better in general, presuming that hair-of-the-dog and some decent tunes had lifted me.
At half-8 the next morning, I got up and ran to the bathroom. This was the end of my next couple of days, as evidently the chicken-stick i'd bought last night had given me food poisoning. I spent the morning waiting for Arun and Joerie to wake and save me, lying face down on my bed in between bouts of bathroom-emergency. Whilst the boys were angels and fixed me up with medicine, the rest of my day, i knew, was a write-off. For hours i stared at my fan going back and forth. "Why am I on Koh Tao?" i thought. I'd experienced little Thai culture, as the island complexes are half-owned by Brits and Aussies. I'd had enough of beers, of bars, of beaches. And after about three hours reading i'd finished my book. At times, "The Man in the High Tower" by Philip K. Dick was inspirational - my feverish delirium only adding to this experience. But, "Why am I on Koh Tao?" I could read at home. Arun and Joerie had apparently had a wonderful day, snorkelling and playing chess on the beach. I'd have loved those things, but in my humid, bright, pink bedroom-come-asylum any thought of travelling-type experiences seemed miles away. I didn't eat all day, save a packet of Maltesers i'd managed to muster the energy to buy.
Whilst some would say that not eating is a bad idea, I say it was a great idea this once, as, thanks to the medicine, I woke up the next day with a genuine appetite. Gingerly i made it down to breakfast, admirably joined by Arun who'd raved through another party (this one a slight disappointment again, but again full of drinks). He'd slept about 3 hours, and I'd barely slept more than 20 minutes at a time, but still we both checked out on time. As we sat and ate on the beach, i opened up to him my fears about the trip. "Why are we here?" I asked, wondering if i could hack any more partying, knowing that we were headed for party-centric Koh Pha-Ngang that day. He calmly reassured me, but my mood got the better of me and i was blinded to any future hope for the trip. This, you'll be glad to know, was rock-bottom.
Once Joerie rose, and my mood was everso slightly raised, the three of us headed to another bar to grab a light second-breakfast, which my gut was grateful for, and here we met Ben, a genuinely interesting Aussie fella who i chatted to about work and Wikileaks. We both love Assange.
Arun had booked our ticket on the Lomprayah the day before, and we due to leave at 2. So, luggage heavily in tow, we bid a fond farewell to Joerie, who'd been exactly the kind of friend you want to make out here, although at the time my mood again clouded my perspective, and i was simply glad to be heading to a new place. As we boarded the boat, a viscious little monsoon spat down on us. Arun and I, either too lazy to move or too tired to really feel it, sat through the storm outside, both blasting tunes into our ears above the loud drone of the catamaran. We were dried by the blazing afternoon sun on the way, and I truly loved the ride across the Koh Pha-Ngang. It blew all the cobwebs away, and i realised that if i was going to enjoy anything about travelling, it might be the travelling itself. Whilst i've gotten better at flying (the flight to Bangkok caused no panic whatsoever for me), travelling by boat has always been my favourite. It's like one, long tracking-shot in a movie; everything rolls by steadily. Flying has always felt like cheating to me, cheating gravity, cheating death, but on a boat you can really feel yourself moving round the world.
As we docked on our next island, Arun was evidently exhausted but valiantly striding on. I'd spotted a decent resort in our Lonely Planet, so we headed around the ridiculous bumps and curves of the Pha-Ngang roads towards the place. When we arrived, it was an expensive resort with all the budget rooms booked out. They directed us around the corner to 'Leela Beach Bungalows,' and, both now knackered, we settled on the first 500baht (10 pounds) shared room we found. If we hadn't experienced MarcoPolo in Bangkok, i'd have thought this the worst place imaginable. The toilet door didn't close even slightly, which was not great in my current condition. We were also joined by dozens of small flies who'd made their way in through the gaping great holes in the walls.
Arun napped, and i decided to go walking in order to curb my increasing mardiness. I walked round the hill to Had Rin, the main resort on Koh Pha-Ngang and home to the infamous Full-Moon Party. As i looked for a book and some internet, i saw a road-resort which, though empty, resembled Khao San Road in every other respect. My heart sank. I was not prepared for more partying of this sort - the very British, very stupid, very loud kind. I wondered what everyone saw in this place that they couldn't get back home. Faced with the choice of this or our rough room, I wandered, getting more and more lonely. At this point i settled in an internet cafe to type out my worries, and I owe it all to Cherry back home for turning me round. Whilst still a little dismayed, after some email exchanges with her I was dtermined to let time pass, to wait for a good time.
She was right, as I truly didn't have to wait long. Today, Day 19, the 3rd of February, it all became slowly apparent. We took a look at the Lonely Planet, and tactically headed off the beaten path. We got a taxi towards our next room, stationed a couple of miles along the beach from the "Black Moon Party," the main reason we were on the island. Until today, this party had barely crossed my mind, but now it feels like it could be great. We had clearly taken a risk when we arrived at the tiny resort of "Boom Cafe," as it was down an incredibly steep slope which takes about 20 minutes to walk back up, and they only had one room left. After initially saying 'no thanks,' we turned, and faced with the prospect of going back up the hill, we decided to take the room. Good decision . It is beautiful, and the resort we're staying on is totally secluded by huge black rocks, enjoying its own tiny little bit of beach which stares out at the sunset. We took turns on our balcony hammock; we took comfotable showers; we had some lunch at the restaurant and met Nok the owner, the sweetest Thai lady we're yet to meet. When my Noodles arrived covered in nuts, she took the trouble to write out "Please don't feed me nuts, i am allergic, thankyou" in Thai on a slip of paper for my wallet.
We've decided to stay in this resort for four nights now. Tonight is the party and then we're going to kick back in paradise for a few days, maybe taking in a little kayaking at the Ang Thong National Marine Park.
So the last week was more revealing than we ever could have expected. I experienced a true low, but thanks to a few special people and a spot of secluded beauty, i do know why i'm here.
Wednesday
[Not putting on an act, but putting on the truth]
Arun eventually emerged to join me for lunch, after which we decided to wander the Road for a little bit. Becoming more familiar with it, it was evident that rather than many options, there was lots of the same things to do - five 7-elevens, 10 foot massage places, infinite interwoven bars. A Gorillaz t-shirt shone right out at me from one of the stalls and i bought it, getting about a quarter off the asking price after a spot of casual bartering.
We needed to scout out our next bed for the following night, knowing that a night out was going to leave us a little the worse for wear the next day. After a little searching we settled on a little hostel down one of the alleys, which was later to prove a mistake. Before we realised this though, we went looking for a place for a quiet beer, and whilst the Irish pub we found wasn't the most authentic Thai experience, the pool table and friendly staff more than made up for it. Plus, i won at pool.
With our uncreative lunch experience in mind, we later went looking for a more interesting place to eat some dinner, and after searching the lanes behind Khao San Road (where any hint of the party atmosphere just metres away disappears amidst local families cooking and eating their own dinners in long rows of open tables) we found an awesome place that served fresh barbequed fish. Half way through our meal, an unassuming little Thai dude set up an acoustic guitar and proceeded to gently entertain us with a selection of belters. He sang quietly and powerfully and Arun and I made sure he knew we were loving it.
Arun, suffering everso slightly from his first Khao San night out, went for a brief nap so I decided to head up to the Roof Bar which we could see from our room across the street. It turned out to be just as cool as it looked. I sat down with a whiskey (a measure of which from here would make several members of my family smile - think triple) and got chatting to Kim, the dude from New Zealand who would feature much more in the coming days. We chatted about tobacco and Thailand for an hour, and once Arun rose we all met up at the big Centre Point Bar - the main starting point for a night out here. With a "bucket" each (essentially a bottle of spirit dumped into a bucket of ice with 2 red bull concentrates and a bottle of coke) we proceeded to meet more and more people, all of whom were up for any kind of chat you like. Kim and I decided to take a crack at pool, but just as we set up two hefty looking Thai girls jumped out of their seat, demanding that since one of them had won the last game, they had to play me. She played one handed and lefty, evidently trying to take the piss, and it was working as we played the tightest game ever. As Kim cheered me on, i kept my cool to sink the black and proceeded to have a little jig before politely bowing to my competitor. This bow might have saved my life as she was anything but a good loser; she turned on Kim, screaming "You fuck off! Are you fucking blind or deaf?! Get out!!" We all left, with a small crew in tow.
As we sat at another bar, some cute little kids came up to sell us some stuff, but taking a shine to us decided to have a dance and sing with us instead. After this, Arun, Kim and I moved everyone up to Hippie the Bar for yet another bucket and after this the night became a little bit Blackpool, except, that was, for the fried scorpions Kim bought back for the three of us to try. They were more than edible, tasting kind of like crackling and with the texture of...well, a scorpion. It was about 7 in the morning and the sun was rising when we realised that, whilst having had a hell of a fun night out, that really is all you get from Khao San Road, and that once is enough. The next day this became even more apparent thanks to some cracking hangovers all round; admittedly one night had cost us the whole next day.
Arun and I did (eventually) manage to check out of our place and lug our things across to MarcoPolo hostel, our stop for the next two nights. Receptions can be deceptive, as upon arriving in my room, already feeling a little delicate, we were greeted with the most god-awful smell imaginable, the source of which i never discovered and am delighted to have seen the back of this morning. The beds were solid and without duvet, so we both opted to use our towels to cover our legs at night whilst being blasted with air con (turning the air con off was a less desirable option).
Arun slept, but i couldn't, probably thanks to the red bull concentrate. I tried to use a cash machine, and so began my adventure with Natwest's fraud department. Seeing as this blog is meant to be interesting at all, i will leave this alone, suffice to say that if the camp travel agent near our hostel hadn't taken a shine to me and helped well beyond his call of duty, i might be on a flight home.
I managed to make it all the way through to 10p.m. and sat downstairs on the Road to grab a little dinner before going up to bed for the best sleep ever (i barely even noticed the smell).
As we both woke yesterday with a film of yellow over our eyes, we decided to recuperate with a creative breakfast of cereal and mango shakes. We decided that we had to pay for our sins by doing some proper tourism, and proper tourism we did. In the blazing midday heat we walked slowly towards the river, aiming to catch a boat across to Wat Arun ("the Temple of the Dawn"). For 3 baht we were ferried south and jumped off right outside the Wat. It is an incredible place to see up close; the intricate detail gets impossibly more beautiful close up and the serenity of the sight of monks eating their food behind the temple beats the atmosphere of any film. The main structure juts upwards like a cone, with stairs along the side getting as steep as probably 70 degrees, an intimidating prospect on the way down. The beauty of this area was immense and the peacefulness slowly brought us both fully back to life.
On the way back we decided to catch the local bus-boat right up the river instead of walking back through town. Our spirits lifted, we watched Bangkok, half beauty half business, roll by for about 20 minutes. The only disturbance on this trip was an unbelievable Manc fella who, when tapped on the shoulder and asked not to sit on the steps of the boat, proceeded to scream right back at the little Thai ticket lady. Arun and I stepped right in, telling him where to get off and that if he did what he said he would and threw her off the boat, we'd politely do the same to him. He shut up.
A tuk-tuk took us home and we grabbed some chicken sticks on the road behind Khao San, Rambuthri, a far more pleasant little strip where the hippie-backpacker vibe exists more strongly. After this we met up with Rory's friend Giftzy, the most lovely young lady around who has sorted out our travel today; we're headed south for Ko Tao island on an overnight coach/bus ride which should arrive mid-morning tomorrow.
We finished the day on Rambuthri with a nice dinner, and hooked up with Kim to say goodbye over a shisha. It was a perfect day to end Bangkok.
We needed to scout out our next bed for the following night, knowing that a night out was going to leave us a little the worse for wear the next day. After a little searching we settled on a little hostel down one of the alleys, which was later to prove a mistake. Before we realised this though, we went looking for a place for a quiet beer, and whilst the Irish pub we found wasn't the most authentic Thai experience, the pool table and friendly staff more than made up for it. Plus, i won at pool.
With our uncreative lunch experience in mind, we later went looking for a more interesting place to eat some dinner, and after searching the lanes behind Khao San Road (where any hint of the party atmosphere just metres away disappears amidst local families cooking and eating their own dinners in long rows of open tables) we found an awesome place that served fresh barbequed fish. Half way through our meal, an unassuming little Thai dude set up an acoustic guitar and proceeded to gently entertain us with a selection of belters. He sang quietly and powerfully and Arun and I made sure he knew we were loving it.
Arun, suffering everso slightly from his first Khao San night out, went for a brief nap so I decided to head up to the Roof Bar which we could see from our room across the street. It turned out to be just as cool as it looked. I sat down with a whiskey (a measure of which from here would make several members of my family smile - think triple) and got chatting to Kim, the dude from New Zealand who would feature much more in the coming days. We chatted about tobacco and Thailand for an hour, and once Arun rose we all met up at the big Centre Point Bar - the main starting point for a night out here. With a "bucket" each (essentially a bottle of spirit dumped into a bucket of ice with 2 red bull concentrates and a bottle of coke) we proceeded to meet more and more people, all of whom were up for any kind of chat you like. Kim and I decided to take a crack at pool, but just as we set up two hefty looking Thai girls jumped out of their seat, demanding that since one of them had won the last game, they had to play me. She played one handed and lefty, evidently trying to take the piss, and it was working as we played the tightest game ever. As Kim cheered me on, i kept my cool to sink the black and proceeded to have a little jig before politely bowing to my competitor. This bow might have saved my life as she was anything but a good loser; she turned on Kim, screaming "You fuck off! Are you fucking blind or deaf?! Get out!!" We all left, with a small crew in tow.
As we sat at another bar, some cute little kids came up to sell us some stuff, but taking a shine to us decided to have a dance and sing with us instead. After this, Arun, Kim and I moved everyone up to Hippie the Bar for yet another bucket and after this the night became a little bit Blackpool, except, that was, for the fried scorpions Kim bought back for the three of us to try. They were more than edible, tasting kind of like crackling and with the texture of...well, a scorpion. It was about 7 in the morning and the sun was rising when we realised that, whilst having had a hell of a fun night out, that really is all you get from Khao San Road, and that once is enough. The next day this became even more apparent thanks to some cracking hangovers all round; admittedly one night had cost us the whole next day.
Arun and I did (eventually) manage to check out of our place and lug our things across to MarcoPolo hostel, our stop for the next two nights. Receptions can be deceptive, as upon arriving in my room, already feeling a little delicate, we were greeted with the most god-awful smell imaginable, the source of which i never discovered and am delighted to have seen the back of this morning. The beds were solid and without duvet, so we both opted to use our towels to cover our legs at night whilst being blasted with air con (turning the air con off was a less desirable option).
Arun slept, but i couldn't, probably thanks to the red bull concentrate. I tried to use a cash machine, and so began my adventure with Natwest's fraud department. Seeing as this blog is meant to be interesting at all, i will leave this alone, suffice to say that if the camp travel agent near our hostel hadn't taken a shine to me and helped well beyond his call of duty, i might be on a flight home.
I managed to make it all the way through to 10p.m. and sat downstairs on the Road to grab a little dinner before going up to bed for the best sleep ever (i barely even noticed the smell).
As we both woke yesterday with a film of yellow over our eyes, we decided to recuperate with a creative breakfast of cereal and mango shakes. We decided that we had to pay for our sins by doing some proper tourism, and proper tourism we did. In the blazing midday heat we walked slowly towards the river, aiming to catch a boat across to Wat Arun ("the Temple of the Dawn"). For 3 baht we were ferried south and jumped off right outside the Wat. It is an incredible place to see up close; the intricate detail gets impossibly more beautiful close up and the serenity of the sight of monks eating their food behind the temple beats the atmosphere of any film. The main structure juts upwards like a cone, with stairs along the side getting as steep as probably 70 degrees, an intimidating prospect on the way down. The beauty of this area was immense and the peacefulness slowly brought us both fully back to life.
On the way back we decided to catch the local bus-boat right up the river instead of walking back through town. Our spirits lifted, we watched Bangkok, half beauty half business, roll by for about 20 minutes. The only disturbance on this trip was an unbelievable Manc fella who, when tapped on the shoulder and asked not to sit on the steps of the boat, proceeded to scream right back at the little Thai ticket lady. Arun and I stepped right in, telling him where to get off and that if he did what he said he would and threw her off the boat, we'd politely do the same to him. He shut up.
A tuk-tuk took us home and we grabbed some chicken sticks on the road behind Khao San, Rambuthri, a far more pleasant little strip where the hippie-backpacker vibe exists more strongly. After this we met up with Rory's friend Giftzy, the most lovely young lady around who has sorted out our travel today; we're headed south for Ko Tao island on an overnight coach/bus ride which should arrive mid-morning tomorrow.
We finished the day on Rambuthri with a nice dinner, and hooked up with Kim to say goodbye over a shisha. It was a perfect day to end Bangkok.
Sunday
[Arun conserved energy by only seeing 1 Wat]
Our last afternoon in Delhi could not have gone better. Once we got out of the Internet cafe, we wandered round Connaught Place outdoor shopping hub about 7 times. On each rotation we changed our trajectory everso slightly and if it wasn't for the burning bright McDonalds sign we wouldn't have noticed we were lapping the same place. Delhi is bustling. About 20 people said "nice hat!' to Arun.
We met up with one of our friends from AVS school where we taught 4 years ago, Gaurav, and his friend from Hong Kong via King's College London Gabriel and had a great catch up over lunch at Haldiram's. Gaurav, ever the organiser, made sure that anyone we might know in the area knew we were there, and with an hour left he ushered us into a small blues bar to meet another AVS student, Kishan, and his university mates. We were bought beer after beer and challenged to a 'bottums' up competition as we were in a rush. These guys can down a drink. We were royally humbled but suitably drunk, and with that we hailed a tuk-tuk and headed back to Guest House. The driver from the day before was forgiven everso slightly as this driver could not find the room either. After a kind of landmark-lucky-dip in the dark, we managed to find it all of our own accord, which went some way to making us feel more like badass travellers.
It was straight to the airport to catch our nightmare flight to Bangkok; we checked it at 10.30 and took off at 1.30 am. As we flew towards the sunrise over desolate southern Burma, "All Along the Watchtower" burst into my ears and through exhaustion i suddenly realised how amazing this was going to be. It was smooth from the airport to our accomodation, and I only got more excited after chatting to Sebastian, the Parisian adventurer who says he'll meet us at the Half Moon Party.
Once we got to Khao San Road via a bus that drove past 5 or 6 temples ('Wats') we wandered up and down the street, trying to acclimatise but actually just dazzling ourselves with all the colours and choices of places to go. We slept through most of the day, having planned to wake up for dinner and beers later.
We hit one of the half-empty bars at 7, and from that point on the street just got busier and busier, until it was full of everyone. More beers and more chats with friendly tourists followed, as we indulged in more football on tele, not a particularly anti-social thing to do on Khao San Road on a Saturday as the time difference makes a full Premier League line-up more like a good ngiht out. As United smashed Brum, we got talking to Magnus, the English bar/restraunt owner from Manchester, and Scott, the Aussie non-football fan. We all had a great laugh watching the street roll by and we couldn't help but wander out in to the mire every so often to purchase one kind of treat or another. I personally rejoiced at finding Rizla, although it became obvious that you can get anything here if you look hard enough. Khao San Road is clearly set up for first-timers, and we found it to be the perfect start; we mentioned to the guys that whilst it was tricky to avoid the scammers and touts on the road, our few days in Delhi had made for great practice in avoidance. It's simply not as desperate here.
My exhaustion got the better of me around 1, so i left the guys and headed back to sleep. Arun stumbled in, heavily, a couple of hours later having apparently had an amazing time, which i'm going to have to fill him in on when he wakes up in a couple of hours. We're both buzzing about our time here, though it's hard to say exactly what we're going to get up to as new opportunities exist at every turn. We wouldn't want it any other way.
We met up with one of our friends from AVS school where we taught 4 years ago, Gaurav, and his friend from Hong Kong via King's College London Gabriel and had a great catch up over lunch at Haldiram's. Gaurav, ever the organiser, made sure that anyone we might know in the area knew we were there, and with an hour left he ushered us into a small blues bar to meet another AVS student, Kishan, and his university mates. We were bought beer after beer and challenged to a 'bottums' up competition as we were in a rush. These guys can down a drink. We were royally humbled but suitably drunk, and with that we hailed a tuk-tuk and headed back to Guest House. The driver from the day before was forgiven everso slightly as this driver could not find the room either. After a kind of landmark-lucky-dip in the dark, we managed to find it all of our own accord, which went some way to making us feel more like badass travellers.
It was straight to the airport to catch our nightmare flight to Bangkok; we checked it at 10.30 and took off at 1.30 am. As we flew towards the sunrise over desolate southern Burma, "All Along the Watchtower" burst into my ears and through exhaustion i suddenly realised how amazing this was going to be. It was smooth from the airport to our accomodation, and I only got more excited after chatting to Sebastian, the Parisian adventurer who says he'll meet us at the Half Moon Party.
Once we got to Khao San Road via a bus that drove past 5 or 6 temples ('Wats') we wandered up and down the street, trying to acclimatise but actually just dazzling ourselves with all the colours and choices of places to go. We slept through most of the day, having planned to wake up for dinner and beers later.
We hit one of the half-empty bars at 7, and from that point on the street just got busier and busier, until it was full of everyone. More beers and more chats with friendly tourists followed, as we indulged in more football on tele, not a particularly anti-social thing to do on Khao San Road on a Saturday as the time difference makes a full Premier League line-up more like a good ngiht out. As United smashed Brum, we got talking to Magnus, the English bar/restraunt owner from Manchester, and Scott, the Aussie non-football fan. We all had a great laugh watching the street roll by and we couldn't help but wander out in to the mire every so often to purchase one kind of treat or another. I personally rejoiced at finding Rizla, although it became obvious that you can get anything here if you look hard enough. Khao San Road is clearly set up for first-timers, and we found it to be the perfect start; we mentioned to the guys that whilst it was tricky to avoid the scammers and touts on the road, our few days in Delhi had made for great practice in avoidance. It's simply not as desperate here.
My exhaustion got the better of me around 1, so i left the guys and headed back to sleep. Arun stumbled in, heavily, a couple of hours later having apparently had an amazing time, which i'm going to have to fill him in on when he wakes up in a couple of hours. We're both buzzing about our time here, though it's hard to say exactly what we're going to get up to as new opportunities exist at every turn. We wouldn't want it any other way.
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