I'm going to implant these videos into the corresponding entries, but here they are in case you don't want to reread the entire blog!
A marketplace in Udaipur (the girl who smiles at the end is the best):
My little friends in Hampi:
1) Explaining their favorite Gods:
2) Holding a staged conversation that I have no idea what it is about:
3) Sliding:
My Jodhpur suitors:
Friday, April 10, 2009
Monday, June 9, 2008
Koh Phangnan & Siem Reap, Cambodia
With my one good eye, Christian and I watched more House together. I put him in charge of my eye drops as he claimed to be a professional eye dropper after having to stay up for 24 hours putting drops in his girlfriend's eye EVERY TWO HOURS. Ugh. Mine only had to go in every 4 hours. He set his watch and in the middle of the second episode, he stopped the dvd, crouched over me and expertly squeezed two drops into my bright red eye. And again a few hours later, his phone's alarm went off and he got up to administer more drops. And again in the morning. He's a sweetheart.
We were due to catch a 2 p.m. ferry to Koh Phangnan. We found a bus to take us there and said goodbye to the Swiss girls, figuring we'd see them again soon. At some point on the way to the ferry, I saw a sign that advertised a "Monkey Theatre." I imagined some sort of Shakespeare in the Park....but with monkeys.
The ferry was pretty quick and dumped us right where we wanted to be. We decided to just take it easy and find something nearby. We chose a hotel that seemed to be centrally located and 10 dollars a night. Perfect. Christian lay down for a bit and I went wandering, looking for internet. Everything was ridiculously expensive -- and exactly the same price. I couldn't understand it. All these internet cafes were empty but they weren't about to bargain for a lower price. I asked the hotel owner and he said that the travel agencies (which were the ones with the internet cafes) all decided to have the same price. But my hotel also had internet that you used by buying a card, which was much cheaper. Plus! I discovered how to beat the system! Most places, the moment you sit down, the clock starts. But at my hotel, you don't have to log on until you try to go online. So I could sit for hours for free uploading photos and working on my blog and then only spend a few minutes online by copying and posting my blog from Word. Mwahahaha. I saved a bundle!
I stopped by yet another 7-11 and picked up a couple of large Changs and went back to the hotel. Christian was reading "Harry Potter" and I beckoned him out onto our porch where we drank our Changs and watched the sunset.
Dinner at a typical Thai Island restaurant, a bunch of tvs showing movies. We were there for awhile before wandering around, checking out the small town.
Next morning, went to find breakfast and ended up at a cafe that showed all "Family Guy" all the time...unless it was showing "Friends." We ended up watching several episodes. Food wasn't too expensive. Beach time followed. We lay out for awhile and then I decided to go buy a blow-up raft. Thank goodness the swimming area is roped off because I went out on the raft and before I knew it, I was bumping up against the far rope, about to drift out to sea.
Christian’s friend from Australia informed us of a “Cross-dressing Pool Party” later that evening at her hotel. We said we’d come, although we’d most likely be wearing our own clothes.
We ate dinner at a rather chic restaurant that specialized in tapas and then tried to find our way to the party. The roads were a little tricky and we kept finding ourselves at a deadend. We knew it wasn’t that far away, so we decided to walk on the beach on the west side of the island to get there – which was barely a beach. At last we could hear music playing and two men went sprinting by us, one in mad pursuit of the other. It didn’t look like a friendly chase. The pool party was in full swing. Christian jumped right in. I took some pictures and then took the camera to Christian’s friends room and joined them. I had to keep my glasses on – still waiting for my eye infection to go away.
Next morning – Christian and I go back to the Family Guy place. They’re just opening up and we stand there while the owner tries to figure out the DVD player and flat screen tv. It’s almost as if he doesn’t have the tv going all day every day and this is his first time operating it. We’re about to sit down when Christian glances to his right. “What’s wrong with that cat?” He asks. I look over and that was one dead cat, my friends. Matted fur and a little blood on the floor. The owner glances at it and goes back to the tv. His wife is setting chairs out. There is a dead cat in the middle of the floor. Dead. Cat. Christian and I look at each other. Wouldn’t maybe you consider...you know...possibly handling the dead cat situation before opening the restaurant? Doesn’t a DEAD CAT rank a little higher on a list of priorities than, say, finding the Star Wars Family Guy episode in the dvd case? We left. Around the corner we found a nice place for breakfast while Friends played.
Afterwards, Christian was going to meet up with his friend and check out the island. I was going to stay behind and take a snorkeling trip. I also had to book my bus back up to Bangkok and to Cambodia – which the hotel took care of for me. It was going to be a ridiculous bus ride (12 hours back to Bangkok and then 9 hours to Siem Reap. (I don't know why I didn't fly more.)
The snorkel guide picked me up at the hotel. Two Canadian couples were in the truck already. We were taken to a shop to get flippers and then walked out to the beach to get on the boat. We settled in and the boat puttered up the east coast of the island. First stop was a quick hike up to some small waterfalls. Next stop was at a beach for lunch. Then a stop at another beach for swimming. Finally we pulled near some reef and tumbled off the boat for about 20 minutes of snorkeling. The water was a bit murky and there were few fish. The guide promised it would be better at the next site. Climbed back on board and chugged to a new area while snacking on fresh pineapple. Thailand has the best pineapple I’ve ever had in my life (at least until I get to Vietnam). Sweet, fresh, almost always perfectly ripe. I could eat it all day. I noticed that some of the Canadians were bleeding pretty badly from getting too close to the coral. Eek. My own cut from Krabi had healed nicely.
At the second snorkel site, I saw some ominous clouds were coming up over the island’s hills. Everyone started jumping into the water to swim over to the reef and then the screams started.
At first nothing happened to me, I came up to look around and make sure I wasn’t too far away from the boat when I first heard the others squealing. “Ow!!!! What is that!?!?!” People were swimming madly back to the boat. Then I felt them. Little pin pricks. Thousands of them. Actually it felt like standing on a beach during a windstorm, your body pelted with sand. I couldn’t see what was causing it. I swam back and climbed onto the boat as fast as possible but the pain continued. I looked around and everyone was rubbing off with towels as frantically as they could. Several were bleeding. “Coral?” I asked. “No. Sea Lice!” Basically, as they explained it to me, we were swimming in jellyfish sperm. Ugh. My snorkeling was done. Our guide mixed up a lethal cocktail of coke and Thai Whiskey in a cooler and handed glasses out. That made us feel better. As we sat and enjoyed our cocktails and nursed our rashes, a storm blew up. We turned around and headed back home.
Christian was reading when I got back to the hotel. We decided to go find food eventually but were unsure where to go. Ended up back at Dead Cat Café where I asked if they could put the Star Wars Family Guy on, as I had never seen it. Cat was gone by the way. The power went out about 1 minute before the ending. Then they put Friends on. The power went out 3 times and we finally gave up and went for a walk.
It was raining again so we went back to the hotel and watched one last House episode episode together as it was our last night to hang out. Oh, and I told him that if he’s ever traveling with a girl again and she has to go to the hospital – HE SHOULD GO WITH HER REGARDLESS OF WHAT SHE SAYS. Christian went to sleep and I stayed up to watch more House.
Next morning, we had breakfast and Christian departed. I packed and did some emailing and writing while it rained before eventually heading to the beach one last time when the sun emerged. After about two hours, the sun went away again so I moved to a bar overlooking the beach and watched two dogs have the best freakin’ time EVER with each other. These two dogs made me so happy--- they must have played for 30 minutes, just out of their minds having such an amazing time. Everyone was watching them. They were just so happy, you couldn’t help but grin and watch all the wrestling and chasing and jumping and chasing and rolling and chasing.
I ended up talking to the manager for a bit. He is from Burma/Myanmar and most of his family is still there. He didn’t seem to know if everyone was okay from the typhoon. I can’t imagine. And he can’t go back to check on them as I take it he might not be legally in Thailand. He asked what I wanted to drink and I told him to surprise me so he introduced me to the lady-boy bartender and I told her/him to make me her/his specialty drink (this is something I like to do in New York as well). I was hoping to try something new and exotic. She/he whipped it up, handed me the drink. It was a Sex on the Beach. Ah well.
Two young men from South America sat next to me. We got to talking and eventually they invited me to join them for drinks later. The sky showed not signs of turning blue again, so I decided to head back to the hotel and write. For dinner, I went to a different place than the Dead Cat Café where I could eat, have a Chang and watch a movie. “I Am Legend” was on, which was good since I’d miss the beginning back in Krabi. As I sat there, I realized that the South Americans had arrived and were eating dinner behind me. I joined them and when the movie was over, we wandered out on the beach.
Saturday night was only just revving up. One lone fire twirler worked the meager crowd. The beach was lined with bucket stands – most of them advertising their wares as “Fu—Buckets.” Uh. One of the SA guys disappeared and the other appeared with a bucket for me. I hope he didn’t take the advertising seriously. Music was playing very loudly and I was just too tired of the whole fratboy scene. I made my goodbyes and headed back to the hotel.
Sunday a.m. – a van picked me up to shuttle me to the ferry. It was pretty dreary out, which was good. No one likes to leave the beach when it's a pretty day. I decided to sit outside on the prow of the boat, listening to music as the seaspray whipped my hair around. We briefly stopped in Koh Samui before reaching the mainland. Buses were waiting on the dock to take us to the stop where the bus to Bangkok was waiting. On the drive up country, we were treated to the movie “The Butterfly Effect” (not exactly a new release like the bus ride down and no interesting subtitles) followed by “The Kingdom.”
Once again, I had finally nodded off when the bus came to a halt after midnight (at the exact same rest stop) for dinner. I sleepily crammed in some noodles and climbed on the bus again. We were due to arrive in Bangkok at 6 a.m. and I had a second bus to catch at 8:30 a.m. to Cambodia. This was going to be one looooooong day.
Around 3:30 a.m., my blanket was rudely yanked away from me. Many people have lost a digit or an entire limb for waking me in the past so this was a grievous offense. I sat up with a growl. One of the bus workers was systematically going down the row and swiping everyone’s blankets without so much as a “Good morning.” Apparently we were rolling into Bangkok. Early. REALLY EARLY.
We came to a stop near Khao San Road at 4 a.m. Now what? I fended off touts, hoisted my pack onto my back, picked up my other bags and drowsily wandered down the empty street to the 24 hour McDonald’s. A cup of coffee, my book, and an Egg McMuffin somehow managed to kill 3 hours before I headed out to call home and find the Tourist Agency where the bus was picking me up. I also read an article in a daily paper about a man in Northern Thailand marrying a python:
“ Satian Kenkudlung, 35, married his python because, he says, the giant snake is actually the 600-year-old spirit of his former lover, reincarnated in the form of a snake so that the couple could be together again.”
http://phuketvogue.com/phuket/man-marries-snake-in-thailand/
When I stepped outside, it was a gray dawn and monks in bright orange robes were the only people walking down Khao San Road, carry large metal bowls. I called Mom and Dad and then waited for the bus. And waited. And waited. I was getting seriously worried. I was told to be waiting for someone to get me at the tourist agency at 7:50. Now it was 8:20. The bus was due to depart in ten minutes and there were no signs of the tourist agency opening up. Now it was 8:40 and I was in full-on freak-out mode. See, my tourist visa was due to run out the next day. I didn’t actually have to be of the country until Tuesday but I didn’t have time to waste, waiting around for the next bus to Cambodia. Just as I was about to give up and go find a hotel, a young man ambled up to me and asked if I was going to Cambodia. He guided me through some back alleyways to the bus, waiting on a parkway a few streets over. I climbed onto the mostly empty bus and relief washed over me.
I was feeling pretty familiar with Bangkok at this time so I was a little sad to see it go. The movie the bus played was “The Kingdom” (they must all get the same movies) which I half watched (since I’d missed a lot the night before) and half dozed after gorging myself on oreos and various other snacks.
Just before lunch, it started to absolutely pour. We were going to stop just before the Cambodian border, so one of the bus workers stood up to announce how the visa situation was going to work. At lunch, they’d process our visas then we’d head to the border where we were advised to change our money. The guy explained that Cambodia doesn’t have many banks or atms so it’s best to get out Thai money, cross the border and exchange it. I looked in my Lonely Planet, and sure enough, it collaborated that atms were scarce and I didn’t know how big Siem Reap was. I had about 40 dollars in Baht on me still so I thought for a week in Cambodia three hundred dollars ought to do it. After arriving in a torrential downpour, dodging children trying to sell umbrellas or just walk you to the border under an umbrella, I got money out at an atm and was guided across the border and through customs. While filling out paperwork, I didn’t have a pen. I asked one of the military men sitting at a desk if he had a pen. He shook his head with a cursory glance at me and went back to his paper. Ah, work ethics. I can’t tell you how many shops or whatnot I went into in Thailand where workers were dead asleep on the floor with a pillow. I crossed into Cambodia without further hassle and was instantly stricken by the change in scenery. I had gotten way too complacent in Thailand. Mud six inches deep sucked at my feet. Ox carts, chickens, cattle roamed the streets. We were herded into a money changing shop and told to hurry as the bus was departing shortly. Now, I’ve only ever used atms on my trip but the money exchange places I’ve seen all have chalkboards or even LED boards that indicate what the daily rates are. In this shop, there was nothing but a guy behind a plexiglass booth. This is NOT good. I don’t have time to text someone how much the Cambodian real goes for. They had told us that they also tend to do more business with the dollar. The guy on the bus had said that you get more for your money if you use Real vs. dollars, saying (twice) that if a bottle of water might 1 dollar or 2 real (at 3 real per dollar). I had looked in the guidebook which said that it was 4 real per dollar but considering the book was 2 years old and the dollar stinks, and every other currency I had encountered had plummeted, that sounded right. So now I have to exchange my baht for real, all while trying to do math in my head (math and I are not friends) on all the different exchange rates going on. I’m digging in my bag for my calculator while the bus driver is prodding us to get a move on, the bus is honking, I’m holding things up…
THIS IS ALL A SCAM.
When all is said and done, I do the calculation in my head and think I’ve just lost 20 bucks. That sucks.
We stop at a rest stop two hours later and when a menu is handed to me, I look at the prices. They’re given in both Real and dollar. And while they’re not totally matching up, they do clearly indicate that I have been ripped off. By about sixty bucks. That REALLY sucks.
Back on the bus for what is the WORST road in the world and I am steaming mad. The bus rocks wildly down a muddy, dirt road for several hours. It’s awful. Take the bumpiest road you’ve ever been on and add rain and zero shocks. I’m commiserating with another couple who have also figured out they were just literally and figuratively taken for a ride. By the way, I read in the guide book that an unnamed airline is paying the government of Cambodia an undisclosed amount of money to keep the road we were on (the main artery from Thailand into Cambodia) unpaved so as to drum up airline passengers. Jerks.
We arrived in Siem Reap late at night, just as the guide book said we would. It is a bus company scam to take you directly to a hotel they are in league with in the hopes that you’ll be too tired to go find your own hotel. I never stay in these hotels on principle. A British couple and I share a tuk-tuk to another hotel nearby. They only have one room for me and it appears to be a part of the staff’s quarters. No thank you. But it’s only 24 Real, they say. No thanks, I say, I was looking for something under 8 dollars. Yes, the woman says, this is 6 dollars. “Don’t you mean 18 Real then?” “No, 4 real to one dollar.”
Oh. My. God.
I grab my calculator and burst into tears. I just got taken for about 120 dollars by that wretched money changer.
You know, I don’t mind so much the little pin pricks here and there of people in these countries ripping me off. The whiny rickshaw driver who wants an extra dollar, etc. But when ONE guy (well, actually several, as the bus company from Bangkok was clearly in cahoots) gets probably more than a week or more salary off me? Disgusting. I was so angry with myself.
I wandered down the street and stopped at a cafe where some nice Irish girls pointed out their hotel to me. I was exhausted and miserable. I was shown to a nice big clean room with hot water and cable television. I wrote Mom and Dad about my failure as a traveler. All this time I thought I was beating the system. That I was a savvy adventurer that no one could mess with. And now I just lost the equivalent of 4 days of travel money. Mom and Dad assured me that it was “a drop in the bucket” -- and looking back, I know it was. I just tried to imagine it as a parking ticket… or an expensive night out. But when you spend about 6 dollars a day on a hotel, 10 on food and 15 or so on entertainment, transportation, souvenirs, etc… 120 dollars was unfeasible.
I went to bed early.[ed. note: I recently talked to my friend Patrick in Phnom Penh and I told him about the ripoff. He said that recently a British girl was riding on the back of a moped in P.P. and a mugger on another moped grabbed her purse as she went by. She was pulled off the moped and then run over by another vehicle and killed. So if losing 120 bucks in the course of a 4 month trip through mostly third world countries is the worst thing that happened to me? I consider myself a lucky person.]
Tuesday
Next morning, I slept in for a bit (or at least tried to as there were jackhammers outside my window. Nice.) and then went down for breakfast, to drop off laundry and to arrange my Angkor Wat tour. I was introduced to a very nice motorbike guide who offered to take me around for about 10-20 dollars a day. After breakfast, we headed out to purchase my 3 day pass and hit some far away lesser temples. Man, if only my parents could see me on the back of a motorbike, zipping through the countryside.
Clouds were threatening and my guide, Sam, seemed worried. We arrived at the first temple, which was fairly impressive. I was greeted by a small family who were there visiting their son, a novice monk living in the monastery nearby. Then Sam and I tore across to another temple which I poked around until the skies opened up. We hung out under the roof of a souvenir shop while the rain fell and I found out that Sam had just gotten married a week earlier. They had met because she worked one of the cafes near Angkor Wat and was also a tour guide. The rain petered out and we went to the third temple and then zipped down a back lane, mud spraying my legs. I really was enjoying Cambodia (once over the initial hate for being ripped off). After Thailand, I finally felt like I was a traveler again, instead of a tourist.
We stopped by his sister’s house for some water and he dropped me off at my hotel around 5. He was due to pick me up pretty early the next morning for the big temples like Angkor Wat.
I headed out on the town to do some interneting and find food. I ended up at a pizza place that was pretty delicious and then moved on to “Pub Street” for a drink at Temple Bar. I was sitting and watching soccer and thinking about what in the world I was going to do for work when I returned and wondering if I should I go back to MTV. Just then, “Video Killed the Radio Star” began to play, which was MTV’s first video that ever aired. Strange. A moment later, a young man came over to talk to me. Before he introduced himself, I remember quite vividly thinking for some reason that he looked like a Brian or a Ryan. Turns out he was a Ryan. We talked for a bit until I suddenly realized he was pretty irritating, a privileged college kid from Connecticut. I was about to head out when he invited me next door to Angkor What?, a pretty happening bar by the looks of it. Unfortunately, it was filled with all the wrong types of backpackers (or Fratpackers, as I like to call them) and I had glass of beer and snuck out. Ryan had basically abandoned me for another girl anyway, but who could blame him, I clearly had no interest.
Wednesday
Up early for breakfast and Sam was already waiting. We were on the road shortly, and I was getting the hang of this motorbike business. First stop was Angkor Wat, stunning.
Also the site of many wedding photos, it appeared. Bridal parties were everywhere.
Next was Angkor Thom, which I think was my favorite. It has incredible carved stone faces all over it and was featured in Tomb Raider.
I really just cannot begin to impress upon you the enormity of these structures… and how decrepit they’re becoming. They are just amazing.
There were several other temples around Angkor Thom that I wandered through while Sam napped/waited for me in his wife’s café. They all seem to have hammocks set up in the back just for this purpose. I joined him at last and ate lunch before we moved on to some further afield temples.
You can pretty much clamber all over the temples. Some are temples you walk through and some you climb up and over. One of the temples you climb had some seriously steep steps.
I made it up and then was mighty concerned about how I was going to get back down. I noticed I wasn’t the only one, when a young western man got help from several monks (!!!) to get down. They even carried his bag for him.
I was careful – moving slowly and meticulously. I didn’t much feel like being air-lifted out of there with a broken neck.
After quite a long day, Sam returned me to the hotel and I went to find a new book and relax a bit. I had the famous Cambodian dish of amok – a sort of coconut curry. Tastebuds gone to glory. Called it a night after that and headed back to the hotel. “Witness” was playing on cable so I got a little homesick.
Thursday
Final day of Wat touring. Sam picked me up – today were were going waaaaay out in the country. I enjoyed picking my way around the temples while listening to sad and/or spooky music on my iPod. And I’m not ashamed to admit I totally listened to Indiana Jones music again.
Back at the hotel, I found that they were showing “The Killing Fields.” Odd. Usually they just showed Cambodian karaoke that the staff sat around and sang along to. I went to find dinner -- it was just pouring so I didn’t stay out. My bus to Phnom Penh was in the morning.
Friday
I was picked up around 10 for the bus ride to PP. Mostly uneventful bus ride, although was subjected to more Cambodian karaoke and an incredibly smelly seatmate. I really can’t tell you what she smelled like, just trust me it was BAD. She also had the loudest ringtone I’ve heard since India and she liked to let it ring for about 10 seconds before answering it. We stopped for lunch at a roadside market. I decided on chips and a soda as the plexiglass containers full of FRIED INSECTS didn't appeal to me.
We rolled into Phnom Penh around 8 p.m. during a massive thunderstorm. I had arranged to stay at a sister hotel to the one in Siem Reap, so I had a tuk-tuk waiting for me. I had dinner after checking in and ended up going to sleep pretty early.
Saturday
Next morning, I had to take care of my Vietnam passport and decided to book a boat tour around the Mekong Delta (basically this would take care of my transportation into Vietnam, a hotel for two nights, plus some sightseeing for about 40 bucks). Unfortunately, this meant I had to stick around PP until Tuesday and I was anxious to move on to Vietnam. Today, I decided to go check out the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum also known as S21 Prison, formerly a high school. It’s obviously a grim tourist stop but I think necessary to see. There are three rooms full of mugshot-style photographs of the victims – very overwhelming. However, while I was moving through the rows of photos, there was a family consisting of an older woman, her daughter (?) and her daughter’s child having a grand old time, pointing and giggling over the photos despite the very clear NO TALKING signs posted absolutely everywhere. There was also a camera crew conducting interviews of visitors and they called over the family to talk to them and the giggling became even worse. Incredibly distracting and rude, I thought, and I’m not even Cambodian. I moved to get ahead of them but they kept appearing in the rooms I was in, giggling at the shackles, pointing and sniggering at unattractive mugshots. I left.
I decided to wander through PP after that gruesome afternoon. Ended up taking shelter during a sudden downpour in a multi-level mall. Bought a pair of Raybans and camo-pants as my wardrobe is in dire need of updating (when you have about 3 items of clothing and are wearing them to death for 2 months, it’s time for a change) and I figured the camo-pants wouldn’t look too dirty after a week of wearing them. Plus, I was feeling a little Lara Croft-ish (minus the thigh-strapped guns, of course) after visiting Angkor Wat.
I had some ice-cream and tramped over to the riverfront where various pubs and restaurants were located to find food.
First, I stopped at a rather chic bar purporting to have a nice wine happy hour. It felt very New York-ish. I was pretty grubby so I popped into the bathroom to change into my new clothes and put some lipstick on, as well as try to run a comb through my hair. I drank my wine by myself and then went up the street to a pub for dinner. I ordered a Philly Cheesesteak (!) which was surprisingly good (and not dog, people!) and fairly authentic while enjoying the texts I was receiving from Orly and David from Owen’s graduation. While I was sitting on a bar stool watching the FA Cup in Cambodia, my baby brother was walking across the stage and receiving his college diploma. Afterwards, a young man stopped me on the street to invite me to a club but I decided to head back to the hotel instead. As I was getting ready for bed, I put on the television to discover that they were airing the Yankees-Mets game! I stayed up quite late to watch it, feeling a bit homesick every time a camera from the blimp (?) overhead would pan over Manhattan on a gorgeous, clear spring day.
Next morning, I got up late, gave myself a much needed pedicure and read a book I’d gotten from the hotel’s book exchange. After lunch, I hired a motorbike to take me to the Killing Field -- Choeung Ek. There is still what appears to be bone and clothing protuding from the earth in some places. Signs indicate where they placed a loudspeaker in a tree to play music in order to drown out the screaming, crying and other nuisances so the soldiers could get on with beating babies against trees, that sort of thing. And yes, there was a sign indicating a particular tree used for that activity. It’s just hard to wrap my brain around the level of atrocity going on – only 30 years ago.
On the way back to the city, my driver, as usual, wanted to know if I was married and why I was traveling alone and then the inevitable “how old are you?” I told him to guess and he guessed about 10 years younger and when I told him my actual age, he was shocked. “Oh, you very old. I think you not get married. Too old.” Excellent. Cheers, mate.
Back at the hotel, lunch, a little reading and then I decided to go back to that nice wine bar after another afternoon of exploring Phnom Penh. I was trying to find a Camera store but was having zero luck but walking around was nice. PP is pretty darn big and the sheer amount of motorbikes is amazing. This is where I really started honing the technique of street-crossing. You wait for an opening nearest you and then you just walk. You never run. You stop when you have to. Some argue to make eye contact but I always look past the driver so there’s no confusion… they have to go around me. You get the hang of it but it is definitely unnerving.
Once at the wine bar, the manager I’d noticed the day before noticed me. “You’re back,” he said, in a clear American accent. I asked him where he was from. He said he was Cambodian but grew up in San Francisco and had moved back to PP a few years ago. We got to chatting and after I mentioned I had worked at MTV before leaving, Patrick told me that he had some American friends who owned a wine bar down the street and one of them had worked at MTV before leaving! Patrick invited me to join him and his friends the next day for dinner and I could meet the MTVer.
Some friends of his came by and we ended up moving down the street to an Italian joint – the food was delicious. I had pasta carbonara and for a couple of hours, felt like I could be back in New York in a tiny restaurant in the West Village. Eventually went back to the hotel (where they were airing “The Killing Fields” – again) and went to bed.
Next morning, I picked up my passport with my new Vietnam visa and after a leisurely breakfast, decided to go see the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda. Unfortunately, it was a national holiday and everything was closed. Not good. I ended up just walking around PP for awhile before going back to the hotel and reading on my balcony. Before I knew it, I was late for meeting Patrick and company. I threw on my birthday sundress and raced across town.
Patrick introduced me to his friends and, as it turns out, Chad not only worked on the same floor as me but he is good friends and neighbors with one of my managers. He gave me advice on what NOT to do when I was in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) which was to NEVER take a bicycle rickshaw. “Please promise me,” he said. I asked why. Because, he explained, they are notorious for cheating you. You try to set a price or the driver says, “Whatever you want to pay me” and when it comes time to pay up, they extort you for obscene amounts of money – like 25 bucks for going five minutes. And they’ll throw a temper tantrum in the middle of the street until you pay them. (Later, I looked it up in my LP Vietnam book, and indeed it did mention bicycle rickshaw drivers as being quite the scam artists). I promised I would not take one. Taxis have meters and are easier to negotiate. We moved from the bar to another restaurant and from there, Patrick invited me on a tour of his hotel. Very modern stylings and an amazing rooftop bar with jacuzzi. Not too shabby. We chatted for a long time. He gave me a lift back to my hotel in his Jeep (why do all Jeep Cherokees smell the same? – and not in a bad way). That’s one of the rewarding and frustrating parts of travel – meeting new, amazing people… and having to leave them.
We were due to catch a 2 p.m. ferry to Koh Phangnan. We found a bus to take us there and said goodbye to the Swiss girls, figuring we'd see them again soon. At some point on the way to the ferry, I saw a sign that advertised a "Monkey Theatre." I imagined some sort of Shakespeare in the Park....but with monkeys.
The ferry was pretty quick and dumped us right where we wanted to be. We decided to just take it easy and find something nearby. We chose a hotel that seemed to be centrally located and 10 dollars a night. Perfect. Christian lay down for a bit and I went wandering, looking for internet. Everything was ridiculously expensive -- and exactly the same price. I couldn't understand it. All these internet cafes were empty but they weren't about to bargain for a lower price. I asked the hotel owner and he said that the travel agencies (which were the ones with the internet cafes) all decided to have the same price. But my hotel also had internet that you used by buying a card, which was much cheaper. Plus! I discovered how to beat the system! Most places, the moment you sit down, the clock starts. But at my hotel, you don't have to log on until you try to go online. So I could sit for hours for free uploading photos and working on my blog and then only spend a few minutes online by copying and posting my blog from Word. Mwahahaha. I saved a bundle!
I stopped by yet another 7-11 and picked up a couple of large Changs and went back to the hotel. Christian was reading "Harry Potter" and I beckoned him out onto our porch where we drank our Changs and watched the sunset.
Dinner at a typical Thai Island restaurant, a bunch of tvs showing movies. We were there for awhile before wandering around, checking out the small town.
Next morning, went to find breakfast and ended up at a cafe that showed all "Family Guy" all the time...unless it was showing "Friends." We ended up watching several episodes. Food wasn't too expensive. Beach time followed. We lay out for awhile and then I decided to go buy a blow-up raft. Thank goodness the swimming area is roped off because I went out on the raft and before I knew it, I was bumping up against the far rope, about to drift out to sea.
Christian’s friend from Australia informed us of a “Cross-dressing Pool Party” later that evening at her hotel. We said we’d come, although we’d most likely be wearing our own clothes.
We ate dinner at a rather chic restaurant that specialized in tapas and then tried to find our way to the party. The roads were a little tricky and we kept finding ourselves at a deadend. We knew it wasn’t that far away, so we decided to walk on the beach on the west side of the island to get there – which was barely a beach. At last we could hear music playing and two men went sprinting by us, one in mad pursuit of the other. It didn’t look like a friendly chase. The pool party was in full swing. Christian jumped right in. I took some pictures and then took the camera to Christian’s friends room and joined them. I had to keep my glasses on – still waiting for my eye infection to go away.
Next morning – Christian and I go back to the Family Guy place. They’re just opening up and we stand there while the owner tries to figure out the DVD player and flat screen tv. It’s almost as if he doesn’t have the tv going all day every day and this is his first time operating it. We’re about to sit down when Christian glances to his right. “What’s wrong with that cat?” He asks. I look over and that was one dead cat, my friends. Matted fur and a little blood on the floor. The owner glances at it and goes back to the tv. His wife is setting chairs out. There is a dead cat in the middle of the floor. Dead. Cat. Christian and I look at each other. Wouldn’t maybe you consider...you know...possibly handling the dead cat situation before opening the restaurant? Doesn’t a DEAD CAT rank a little higher on a list of priorities than, say, finding the Star Wars Family Guy episode in the dvd case? We left. Around the corner we found a nice place for breakfast while Friends played.
Afterwards, Christian was going to meet up with his friend and check out the island. I was going to stay behind and take a snorkeling trip. I also had to book my bus back up to Bangkok and to Cambodia – which the hotel took care of for me. It was going to be a ridiculous bus ride (12 hours back to Bangkok and then 9 hours to Siem Reap. (I don't know why I didn't fly more.)
The snorkel guide picked me up at the hotel. Two Canadian couples were in the truck already. We were taken to a shop to get flippers and then walked out to the beach to get on the boat. We settled in and the boat puttered up the east coast of the island. First stop was a quick hike up to some small waterfalls. Next stop was at a beach for lunch. Then a stop at another beach for swimming. Finally we pulled near some reef and tumbled off the boat for about 20 minutes of snorkeling. The water was a bit murky and there were few fish. The guide promised it would be better at the next site. Climbed back on board and chugged to a new area while snacking on fresh pineapple. Thailand has the best pineapple I’ve ever had in my life (at least until I get to Vietnam). Sweet, fresh, almost always perfectly ripe. I could eat it all day. I noticed that some of the Canadians were bleeding pretty badly from getting too close to the coral. Eek. My own cut from Krabi had healed nicely.
At the second snorkel site, I saw some ominous clouds were coming up over the island’s hills. Everyone started jumping into the water to swim over to the reef and then the screams started.
At first nothing happened to me, I came up to look around and make sure I wasn’t too far away from the boat when I first heard the others squealing. “Ow!!!! What is that!?!?!” People were swimming madly back to the boat. Then I felt them. Little pin pricks. Thousands of them. Actually it felt like standing on a beach during a windstorm, your body pelted with sand. I couldn’t see what was causing it. I swam back and climbed onto the boat as fast as possible but the pain continued. I looked around and everyone was rubbing off with towels as frantically as they could. Several were bleeding. “Coral?” I asked. “No. Sea Lice!” Basically, as they explained it to me, we were swimming in jellyfish sperm. Ugh. My snorkeling was done. Our guide mixed up a lethal cocktail of coke and Thai Whiskey in a cooler and handed glasses out. That made us feel better. As we sat and enjoyed our cocktails and nursed our rashes, a storm blew up. We turned around and headed back home.
Christian was reading when I got back to the hotel. We decided to go find food eventually but were unsure where to go. Ended up back at Dead Cat Café where I asked if they could put the Star Wars Family Guy on, as I had never seen it. Cat was gone by the way. The power went out about 1 minute before the ending. Then they put Friends on. The power went out 3 times and we finally gave up and went for a walk.
It was raining again so we went back to the hotel and watched one last House episode episode together as it was our last night to hang out. Oh, and I told him that if he’s ever traveling with a girl again and she has to go to the hospital – HE SHOULD GO WITH HER REGARDLESS OF WHAT SHE SAYS. Christian went to sleep and I stayed up to watch more House.
Next morning, we had breakfast and Christian departed. I packed and did some emailing and writing while it rained before eventually heading to the beach one last time when the sun emerged. After about two hours, the sun went away again so I moved to a bar overlooking the beach and watched two dogs have the best freakin’ time EVER with each other. These two dogs made me so happy--- they must have played for 30 minutes, just out of their minds having such an amazing time. Everyone was watching them. They were just so happy, you couldn’t help but grin and watch all the wrestling and chasing and jumping and chasing and rolling and chasing.
I ended up talking to the manager for a bit. He is from Burma/Myanmar and most of his family is still there. He didn’t seem to know if everyone was okay from the typhoon. I can’t imagine. And he can’t go back to check on them as I take it he might not be legally in Thailand. He asked what I wanted to drink and I told him to surprise me so he introduced me to the lady-boy bartender and I told her/him to make me her/his specialty drink (this is something I like to do in New York as well). I was hoping to try something new and exotic. She/he whipped it up, handed me the drink. It was a Sex on the Beach. Ah well.
Two young men from South America sat next to me. We got to talking and eventually they invited me to join them for drinks later. The sky showed not signs of turning blue again, so I decided to head back to the hotel and write. For dinner, I went to a different place than the Dead Cat Café where I could eat, have a Chang and watch a movie. “I Am Legend” was on, which was good since I’d miss the beginning back in Krabi. As I sat there, I realized that the South Americans had arrived and were eating dinner behind me. I joined them and when the movie was over, we wandered out on the beach.
Saturday night was only just revving up. One lone fire twirler worked the meager crowd. The beach was lined with bucket stands – most of them advertising their wares as “Fu—Buckets.” Uh. One of the SA guys disappeared and the other appeared with a bucket for me. I hope he didn’t take the advertising seriously. Music was playing very loudly and I was just too tired of the whole fratboy scene. I made my goodbyes and headed back to the hotel.
Sunday a.m. – a van picked me up to shuttle me to the ferry. It was pretty dreary out, which was good. No one likes to leave the beach when it's a pretty day. I decided to sit outside on the prow of the boat, listening to music as the seaspray whipped my hair around. We briefly stopped in Koh Samui before reaching the mainland. Buses were waiting on the dock to take us to the stop where the bus to Bangkok was waiting. On the drive up country, we were treated to the movie “The Butterfly Effect” (not exactly a new release like the bus ride down and no interesting subtitles) followed by “The Kingdom.”
Once again, I had finally nodded off when the bus came to a halt after midnight (at the exact same rest stop) for dinner. I sleepily crammed in some noodles and climbed on the bus again. We were due to arrive in Bangkok at 6 a.m. and I had a second bus to catch at 8:30 a.m. to Cambodia. This was going to be one looooooong day.
Around 3:30 a.m., my blanket was rudely yanked away from me. Many people have lost a digit or an entire limb for waking me in the past so this was a grievous offense. I sat up with a growl. One of the bus workers was systematically going down the row and swiping everyone’s blankets without so much as a “Good morning.” Apparently we were rolling into Bangkok. Early. REALLY EARLY.
We came to a stop near Khao San Road at 4 a.m. Now what? I fended off touts, hoisted my pack onto my back, picked up my other bags and drowsily wandered down the empty street to the 24 hour McDonald’s. A cup of coffee, my book, and an Egg McMuffin somehow managed to kill 3 hours before I headed out to call home and find the Tourist Agency where the bus was picking me up. I also read an article in a daily paper about a man in Northern Thailand marrying a python:
“ Satian Kenkudlung, 35, married his python because, he says, the giant snake is actually the 600-year-old spirit of his former lover, reincarnated in the form of a snake so that the couple could be together again.”
http://phuketvogue.com/phuket/man-marries-snake-in-thailand/
When I stepped outside, it was a gray dawn and monks in bright orange robes were the only people walking down Khao San Road, carry large metal bowls. I called Mom and Dad and then waited for the bus. And waited. And waited. I was getting seriously worried. I was told to be waiting for someone to get me at the tourist agency at 7:50. Now it was 8:20. The bus was due to depart in ten minutes and there were no signs of the tourist agency opening up. Now it was 8:40 and I was in full-on freak-out mode. See, my tourist visa was due to run out the next day. I didn’t actually have to be of the country until Tuesday but I didn’t have time to waste, waiting around for the next bus to Cambodia. Just as I was about to give up and go find a hotel, a young man ambled up to me and asked if I was going to Cambodia. He guided me through some back alleyways to the bus, waiting on a parkway a few streets over. I climbed onto the mostly empty bus and relief washed over me.
I was feeling pretty familiar with Bangkok at this time so I was a little sad to see it go. The movie the bus played was “The Kingdom” (they must all get the same movies) which I half watched (since I’d missed a lot the night before) and half dozed after gorging myself on oreos and various other snacks.
Just before lunch, it started to absolutely pour. We were going to stop just before the Cambodian border, so one of the bus workers stood up to announce how the visa situation was going to work. At lunch, they’d process our visas then we’d head to the border where we were advised to change our money. The guy explained that Cambodia doesn’t have many banks or atms so it’s best to get out Thai money, cross the border and exchange it. I looked in my Lonely Planet, and sure enough, it collaborated that atms were scarce and I didn’t know how big Siem Reap was. I had about 40 dollars in Baht on me still so I thought for a week in Cambodia three hundred dollars ought to do it. After arriving in a torrential downpour, dodging children trying to sell umbrellas or just walk you to the border under an umbrella, I got money out at an atm and was guided across the border and through customs. While filling out paperwork, I didn’t have a pen. I asked one of the military men sitting at a desk if he had a pen. He shook his head with a cursory glance at me and went back to his paper. Ah, work ethics. I can’t tell you how many shops or whatnot I went into in Thailand where workers were dead asleep on the floor with a pillow. I crossed into Cambodia without further hassle and was instantly stricken by the change in scenery. I had gotten way too complacent in Thailand. Mud six inches deep sucked at my feet. Ox carts, chickens, cattle roamed the streets. We were herded into a money changing shop and told to hurry as the bus was departing shortly. Now, I’ve only ever used atms on my trip but the money exchange places I’ve seen all have chalkboards or even LED boards that indicate what the daily rates are. In this shop, there was nothing but a guy behind a plexiglass booth. This is NOT good. I don’t have time to text someone how much the Cambodian real goes for. They had told us that they also tend to do more business with the dollar. The guy on the bus had said that you get more for your money if you use Real vs. dollars, saying (twice) that if a bottle of water might 1 dollar or 2 real (at 3 real per dollar). I had looked in the guidebook which said that it was 4 real per dollar but considering the book was 2 years old and the dollar stinks, and every other currency I had encountered had plummeted, that sounded right. So now I have to exchange my baht for real, all while trying to do math in my head (math and I are not friends) on all the different exchange rates going on. I’m digging in my bag for my calculator while the bus driver is prodding us to get a move on, the bus is honking, I’m holding things up…
THIS IS ALL A SCAM.
When all is said and done, I do the calculation in my head and think I’ve just lost 20 bucks. That sucks.
We stop at a rest stop two hours later and when a menu is handed to me, I look at the prices. They’re given in both Real and dollar. And while they’re not totally matching up, they do clearly indicate that I have been ripped off. By about sixty bucks. That REALLY sucks.
Back on the bus for what is the WORST road in the world and I am steaming mad. The bus rocks wildly down a muddy, dirt road for several hours. It’s awful. Take the bumpiest road you’ve ever been on and add rain and zero shocks. I’m commiserating with another couple who have also figured out they were just literally and figuratively taken for a ride. By the way, I read in the guide book that an unnamed airline is paying the government of Cambodia an undisclosed amount of money to keep the road we were on (the main artery from Thailand into Cambodia) unpaved so as to drum up airline passengers. Jerks.
We arrived in Siem Reap late at night, just as the guide book said we would. It is a bus company scam to take you directly to a hotel they are in league with in the hopes that you’ll be too tired to go find your own hotel. I never stay in these hotels on principle. A British couple and I share a tuk-tuk to another hotel nearby. They only have one room for me and it appears to be a part of the staff’s quarters. No thank you. But it’s only 24 Real, they say. No thanks, I say, I was looking for something under 8 dollars. Yes, the woman says, this is 6 dollars. “Don’t you mean 18 Real then?” “No, 4 real to one dollar.”
Oh. My. God.
I grab my calculator and burst into tears. I just got taken for about 120 dollars by that wretched money changer.
You know, I don’t mind so much the little pin pricks here and there of people in these countries ripping me off. The whiny rickshaw driver who wants an extra dollar, etc. But when ONE guy (well, actually several, as the bus company from Bangkok was clearly in cahoots) gets probably more than a week or more salary off me? Disgusting. I was so angry with myself.
I wandered down the street and stopped at a cafe where some nice Irish girls pointed out their hotel to me. I was exhausted and miserable. I was shown to a nice big clean room with hot water and cable television. I wrote Mom and Dad about my failure as a traveler. All this time I thought I was beating the system. That I was a savvy adventurer that no one could mess with. And now I just lost the equivalent of 4 days of travel money. Mom and Dad assured me that it was “a drop in the bucket” -- and looking back, I know it was. I just tried to imagine it as a parking ticket… or an expensive night out. But when you spend about 6 dollars a day on a hotel, 10 on food and 15 or so on entertainment, transportation, souvenirs, etc… 120 dollars was unfeasible.
I went to bed early.[ed. note: I recently talked to my friend Patrick in Phnom Penh and I told him about the ripoff. He said that recently a British girl was riding on the back of a moped in P.P. and a mugger on another moped grabbed her purse as she went by. She was pulled off the moped and then run over by another vehicle and killed. So if losing 120 bucks in the course of a 4 month trip through mostly third world countries is the worst thing that happened to me? I consider myself a lucky person.]
Tuesday
Next morning, I slept in for a bit (or at least tried to as there were jackhammers outside my window. Nice.) and then went down for breakfast, to drop off laundry and to arrange my Angkor Wat tour. I was introduced to a very nice motorbike guide who offered to take me around for about 10-20 dollars a day. After breakfast, we headed out to purchase my 3 day pass and hit some far away lesser temples. Man, if only my parents could see me on the back of a motorbike, zipping through the countryside.
Clouds were threatening and my guide, Sam, seemed worried. We arrived at the first temple, which was fairly impressive. I was greeted by a small family who were there visiting their son, a novice monk living in the monastery nearby. Then Sam and I tore across to another temple which I poked around until the skies opened up. We hung out under the roof of a souvenir shop while the rain fell and I found out that Sam had just gotten married a week earlier. They had met because she worked one of the cafes near Angkor Wat and was also a tour guide. The rain petered out and we went to the third temple and then zipped down a back lane, mud spraying my legs. I really was enjoying Cambodia (once over the initial hate for being ripped off). After Thailand, I finally felt like I was a traveler again, instead of a tourist.
We stopped by his sister’s house for some water and he dropped me off at my hotel around 5. He was due to pick me up pretty early the next morning for the big temples like Angkor Wat.
I headed out on the town to do some interneting and find food. I ended up at a pizza place that was pretty delicious and then moved on to “Pub Street” for a drink at Temple Bar. I was sitting and watching soccer and thinking about what in the world I was going to do for work when I returned and wondering if I should I go back to MTV. Just then, “Video Killed the Radio Star” began to play, which was MTV’s first video that ever aired. Strange. A moment later, a young man came over to talk to me. Before he introduced himself, I remember quite vividly thinking for some reason that he looked like a Brian or a Ryan. Turns out he was a Ryan. We talked for a bit until I suddenly realized he was pretty irritating, a privileged college kid from Connecticut. I was about to head out when he invited me next door to Angkor What?, a pretty happening bar by the looks of it. Unfortunately, it was filled with all the wrong types of backpackers (or Fratpackers, as I like to call them) and I had glass of beer and snuck out. Ryan had basically abandoned me for another girl anyway, but who could blame him, I clearly had no interest.
Wednesday
Up early for breakfast and Sam was already waiting. We were on the road shortly, and I was getting the hang of this motorbike business. First stop was Angkor Wat, stunning.
Also the site of many wedding photos, it appeared. Bridal parties were everywhere.
Next was Angkor Thom, which I think was my favorite. It has incredible carved stone faces all over it and was featured in Tomb Raider.
I really just cannot begin to impress upon you the enormity of these structures… and how decrepit they’re becoming. They are just amazing.
There were several other temples around Angkor Thom that I wandered through while Sam napped/waited for me in his wife’s café. They all seem to have hammocks set up in the back just for this purpose. I joined him at last and ate lunch before we moved on to some further afield temples.
You can pretty much clamber all over the temples. Some are temples you walk through and some you climb up and over. One of the temples you climb had some seriously steep steps.
I made it up and then was mighty concerned about how I was going to get back down. I noticed I wasn’t the only one, when a young western man got help from several monks (!!!) to get down. They even carried his bag for him.
I was careful – moving slowly and meticulously. I didn’t much feel like being air-lifted out of there with a broken neck.
After quite a long day, Sam returned me to the hotel and I went to find a new book and relax a bit. I had the famous Cambodian dish of amok – a sort of coconut curry. Tastebuds gone to glory. Called it a night after that and headed back to the hotel. “Witness” was playing on cable so I got a little homesick.
Thursday
Final day of Wat touring. Sam picked me up – today were were going waaaaay out in the country. I enjoyed picking my way around the temples while listening to sad and/or spooky music on my iPod. And I’m not ashamed to admit I totally listened to Indiana Jones music again.
Back at the hotel, I found that they were showing “The Killing Fields.” Odd. Usually they just showed Cambodian karaoke that the staff sat around and sang along to. I went to find dinner -- it was just pouring so I didn’t stay out. My bus to Phnom Penh was in the morning.
Friday
I was picked up around 10 for the bus ride to PP. Mostly uneventful bus ride, although was subjected to more Cambodian karaoke and an incredibly smelly seatmate. I really can’t tell you what she smelled like, just trust me it was BAD. She also had the loudest ringtone I’ve heard since India and she liked to let it ring for about 10 seconds before answering it. We stopped for lunch at a roadside market. I decided on chips and a soda as the plexiglass containers full of FRIED INSECTS didn't appeal to me.
We rolled into Phnom Penh around 8 p.m. during a massive thunderstorm. I had arranged to stay at a sister hotel to the one in Siem Reap, so I had a tuk-tuk waiting for me. I had dinner after checking in and ended up going to sleep pretty early.
Saturday
Next morning, I had to take care of my Vietnam passport and decided to book a boat tour around the Mekong Delta (basically this would take care of my transportation into Vietnam, a hotel for two nights, plus some sightseeing for about 40 bucks). Unfortunately, this meant I had to stick around PP until Tuesday and I was anxious to move on to Vietnam. Today, I decided to go check out the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum also known as S21 Prison, formerly a high school. It’s obviously a grim tourist stop but I think necessary to see. There are three rooms full of mugshot-style photographs of the victims – very overwhelming. However, while I was moving through the rows of photos, there was a family consisting of an older woman, her daughter (?) and her daughter’s child having a grand old time, pointing and giggling over the photos despite the very clear NO TALKING signs posted absolutely everywhere. There was also a camera crew conducting interviews of visitors and they called over the family to talk to them and the giggling became even worse. Incredibly distracting and rude, I thought, and I’m not even Cambodian. I moved to get ahead of them but they kept appearing in the rooms I was in, giggling at the shackles, pointing and sniggering at unattractive mugshots. I left.
I decided to wander through PP after that gruesome afternoon. Ended up taking shelter during a sudden downpour in a multi-level mall. Bought a pair of Raybans and camo-pants as my wardrobe is in dire need of updating (when you have about 3 items of clothing and are wearing them to death for 2 months, it’s time for a change) and I figured the camo-pants wouldn’t look too dirty after a week of wearing them. Plus, I was feeling a little Lara Croft-ish (minus the thigh-strapped guns, of course) after visiting Angkor Wat.
I had some ice-cream and tramped over to the riverfront where various pubs and restaurants were located to find food.
First, I stopped at a rather chic bar purporting to have a nice wine happy hour. It felt very New York-ish. I was pretty grubby so I popped into the bathroom to change into my new clothes and put some lipstick on, as well as try to run a comb through my hair. I drank my wine by myself and then went up the street to a pub for dinner. I ordered a Philly Cheesesteak (!) which was surprisingly good (and not dog, people!) and fairly authentic while enjoying the texts I was receiving from Orly and David from Owen’s graduation. While I was sitting on a bar stool watching the FA Cup in Cambodia, my baby brother was walking across the stage and receiving his college diploma. Afterwards, a young man stopped me on the street to invite me to a club but I decided to head back to the hotel instead. As I was getting ready for bed, I put on the television to discover that they were airing the Yankees-Mets game! I stayed up quite late to watch it, feeling a bit homesick every time a camera from the blimp (?) overhead would pan over Manhattan on a gorgeous, clear spring day.
Next morning, I got up late, gave myself a much needed pedicure and read a book I’d gotten from the hotel’s book exchange. After lunch, I hired a motorbike to take me to the Killing Field -- Choeung Ek. There is still what appears to be bone and clothing protuding from the earth in some places. Signs indicate where they placed a loudspeaker in a tree to play music in order to drown out the screaming, crying and other nuisances so the soldiers could get on with beating babies against trees, that sort of thing. And yes, there was a sign indicating a particular tree used for that activity. It’s just hard to wrap my brain around the level of atrocity going on – only 30 years ago.
On the way back to the city, my driver, as usual, wanted to know if I was married and why I was traveling alone and then the inevitable “how old are you?” I told him to guess and he guessed about 10 years younger and when I told him my actual age, he was shocked. “Oh, you very old. I think you not get married. Too old.” Excellent. Cheers, mate.
Back at the hotel, lunch, a little reading and then I decided to go back to that nice wine bar after another afternoon of exploring Phnom Penh. I was trying to find a Camera store but was having zero luck but walking around was nice. PP is pretty darn big and the sheer amount of motorbikes is amazing. This is where I really started honing the technique of street-crossing. You wait for an opening nearest you and then you just walk. You never run. You stop when you have to. Some argue to make eye contact but I always look past the driver so there’s no confusion… they have to go around me. You get the hang of it but it is definitely unnerving.
Once at the wine bar, the manager I’d noticed the day before noticed me. “You’re back,” he said, in a clear American accent. I asked him where he was from. He said he was Cambodian but grew up in San Francisco and had moved back to PP a few years ago. We got to chatting and after I mentioned I had worked at MTV before leaving, Patrick told me that he had some American friends who owned a wine bar down the street and one of them had worked at MTV before leaving! Patrick invited me to join him and his friends the next day for dinner and I could meet the MTVer.
Some friends of his came by and we ended up moving down the street to an Italian joint – the food was delicious. I had pasta carbonara and for a couple of hours, felt like I could be back in New York in a tiny restaurant in the West Village. Eventually went back to the hotel (where they were airing “The Killing Fields” – again) and went to bed.
Next morning, I picked up my passport with my new Vietnam visa and after a leisurely breakfast, decided to go see the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda. Unfortunately, it was a national holiday and everything was closed. Not good. I ended up just walking around PP for awhile before going back to the hotel and reading on my balcony. Before I knew it, I was late for meeting Patrick and company. I threw on my birthday sundress and raced across town.
Patrick introduced me to his friends and, as it turns out, Chad not only worked on the same floor as me but he is good friends and neighbors with one of my managers. He gave me advice on what NOT to do when I was in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) which was to NEVER take a bicycle rickshaw. “Please promise me,” he said. I asked why. Because, he explained, they are notorious for cheating you. You try to set a price or the driver says, “Whatever you want to pay me” and when it comes time to pay up, they extort you for obscene amounts of money – like 25 bucks for going five minutes. And they’ll throw a temper tantrum in the middle of the street until you pay them. (Later, I looked it up in my LP Vietnam book, and indeed it did mention bicycle rickshaw drivers as being quite the scam artists). I promised I would not take one. Taxis have meters and are easier to negotiate. We moved from the bar to another restaurant and from there, Patrick invited me on a tour of his hotel. Very modern stylings and an amazing rooftop bar with jacuzzi. Not too shabby. We chatted for a long time. He gave me a lift back to my hotel in his Jeep (why do all Jeep Cherokees smell the same? – and not in a bad way). That’s one of the rewarding and frustrating parts of travel – meeting new, amazing people… and having to leave them.
Koh Samui
My left eye is really bothering me at this point, despite removing my contacts.
Heavy clouds hung in the sky as we docked on Koh Samui. Christian, the Swiss girls, and I trooped off and, of course, were instantly hit up by touts who wanted an outrageous 8 bucks per person to take us around to the other side of the island. Per person! And these were songthaew -they could easily fit all of us inside. That's 56 bucks for a 20 minute trip. We tried to bargain with him (the guide book says it shouldn't cost nearly that much) and he pulled the typical Thai taxi driver tantrum, threw up his hands and walked away. Again, he'd rather not make any money then bargain. The guide book recommended just walking to the main road and hailing a passing taxi -- not one that's waiting for you. We watched as other tourists grimaced and shelled out the dough. The road was a bit far from the ferry, but we strapped on our gear and headed out.
As we stood on the corner, our taxi driver reappeared. He'd do it for 7 bucks a person now. We countered with 4. He drove away -- I guess to wait for the next ferry (which was hours away).
Another a moped pulled up, an older German guy with his Thai wife on the back. Now, I realize that many different nationalities actually do fall in love, but at this point every time I saw a white guy with a Thai woman, I only thought, "Ugh… creepy sex tourist." This guy told the Swiss girls and Christian (who were all now leaving me out by talking in German, which is understandable) that he'd take us to the beach we wanted for 20 bucks. He bids us to come with him down the road as he went to get his truck. We start after him but a pack of dogs come out to greet us and the Swiss girls start screaming. I tell them to look at the dogs' tails, which were all wagging friendly-like -- the dogs were just saying hi, not attacking. But we didn't continue down the road, deciding to stay near the main road.
Our taxi driver reappears again and this time he's thought things over and could possibly take us for 6 bucks each. We told him we'd already found a ride for 20 bucks but if he wanted to beat that, that's fine. He grouches and gets back in his truck but doesn't leave.
A few minutes later, the German guy reappears with his truck and waves us over. He doesn't want the taxi driver to see him taking us because it's illegal to drive a non-licensed taxi. Oh dear. The taxi driver is eyeing us and comes over and starts yapping. The German guy's wife says something and he leaves but he is definitely not happy. The woman tells us that she told him we were friends and they were giving us a ride.
Whoops.
We pile into the back of the truck and off we go. It turns out to be quite a drive and a cramped one at that. We try to find the hotel the Swiss girls had looked up but have no luck and end up in a very nice cottage-type hotel room, steps from the beach. After settling, we all troop out to find food. Koh Samui turns out to be quite expensive (although Christian and I shared a room again at about 6 bucks each). We went to restaurant after restaurant where all the main courses were 7 dollars or more. Of course it seems ridiculous now to be put off by that, but when you're used to eating wonderful meals for minimum money, it's a lot. We ended up at a fairly bland spot but I had the crab noodle salad (basically glass noodles with a little bit of greenery and seafood) which was pretty good. Except when I chomped down on a ridiculously hot pepper and tears started streaming down my face. Gotta look out for those, they bite.
My eye looked dreadful that night and hurt pretty badly. I got little sleep. Christian had told me when we were in Krabi that once he was on vacation with his girlfriend in Australia and she came down with an eye infection. It hurt her more and more so she decided to go to a hospital except they had no car and the closest hospital was 75 miles away. They had to hire a taxi and pay an arm and a leg to save her eye because, as it turns out, she had some sort of flesh-eating bacteria which had already eaten out a chunk of her eye! So of course this story is in my head and then Christian brings it up again.
The next morning, the eye is even worse. And it won't stop crying. Christian's already up and out and about. I decide to go to Subway for lunch and also stop at a pharmacy. My weeping eye is so painful, I don't know what to do. Nothing at the pharmacy is suitable. I shuffled blindly back to the beach, found Christian surrounded by all the gorgeous, nubile Swiss girls and tell him I'm giong to the hospital. I went back to the room where I start crying in earnest. Christian comes in and asks if I want him to go with me. He clearly doesn't want to and I'm not about to ask a him to give up beach time with 6 lovely ladies for me, the ancient one. Plus… OF COURSE I WANT HIM TO COME. I don't want to go to another Thai hospital by myself -- particularly since this one was guaranteed to be not as nice as Bumrungrad. But I tell him no, it's okay, go have fun on the beach as I wash my eye out again. He wavers, "Are you sure?" NO I'M NOT SURE! "Yeah. I'll be fine." "I think maybe I should come with you," he says -- but not sounding too sure of it. WHY IS THIS EVEN UP FOR DEBATE? "No, it's fine," I say, crying again. He goes back to the beach. I go to find a taxi. I can't believe he let me go alone.
Taxi charges me six bucks to go about 4 minutes. The hospital is a smallish clinic. There are two people waiting. I sign in and am seen immediately. A nice doctor and a couple of nurses make me lie down on a gurney where the doctor swabs my eye (fun!) and then the nurses basically hold me down and pry my goopy, inflamed eye open and rinse it with saline for 5 minutes. It wasn't exactly painful, but incredibly uncomfortable -- seeing liquid pouring in my eye for so long. I tried to pretend I was being tortured and needed to stay strong and valiant. But that sucked.
Then the doctor bound my eye up with a cotton wadding and tape and sent me away to another window to pick up my "painkillers" and antibiotic eye drops. Painkillers! Yay! The nurse hands me a foil packet of painkillers I've never heard of before: Paracetamol. Oooh! The doctor had anaesthetized my eye while swabbing so it was feeling pretty good at the moment but I was looking forward to dozing a bit when I got back to the hotel and could take one of the pills. I paid the bill - 30 bucks for doctor and antibiotics and pain pills.
With my sense of balance and depth perception impaired, I weaved out into the parking lot to wave down a cab on the street. One stopped immediately. I told him the hotel and asked how much. He said 12 dollars! "It's half a mile away and I just came out of the hospital!!! What would Buddha say!?! It cost 6 to get here. I won't pay more than that." He smiled sheepishly and off we went.
Back at the hotel, I walked lopsidedly down the the beach. Christian and his harem were playing card games and they all gasped dramatically when I approached. I told Christian I was going to sleep for a bit since I was taking painkillers and they'd probably knock me out. I took the pills with some water and Christian walked me back to the hotel room, holding my arm. I couldn't really make out steps very well with only one eye. I lay down and Christian told me he was going out for a bit, and did I need anything. I told him I wanted a real eye patch, if he could find one. I figured if I was going to wear this stupid cotton one, I might as well go whole hog and have a scary black one. Really take this new pirate look all the way. Or at least get a parrot.
I try to sleep… waiting for the wooziness to come on. Been awhile since my neck surgery but I remembered the relaxing "duuuuhhhh" sensation. It wasn't coming. I fell asleep eventually and when Christian returned, they still weren't working. Disappointed, I got up. My eye still hurt. No luck with the eye patch, Christian said. Hmmm. I found a black pen and went into the bathroom.
That'll do.
We met the girls for dinner -- another unremarkable Thai place. At one point one of the girls tried to convince Christian that another girl had been Miss Switzerland the year before (Miss Swiss! Swiss Miss! Hahaha). Christian nodded and congratulated her. What are you supposed to say? "No you weren't!" and if she was, she'll be insulted and if she wasn't…she'll be insulted.
We decide to take a walk and find an internet place after dinner. I’ve popped some more painkillers and they’re still not working. I got online and looked up paracetamol. It’s Tylenol. Dang.
Christian and I decide that Koh Samui is boring and overpriced and decide to head for Koh Phangan the next day. The girls are going to stay another night.
Heavy clouds hung in the sky as we docked on Koh Samui. Christian, the Swiss girls, and I trooped off and, of course, were instantly hit up by touts who wanted an outrageous 8 bucks per person to take us around to the other side of the island. Per person! And these were songthaew -they could easily fit all of us inside. That's 56 bucks for a 20 minute trip. We tried to bargain with him (the guide book says it shouldn't cost nearly that much) and he pulled the typical Thai taxi driver tantrum, threw up his hands and walked away. Again, he'd rather not make any money then bargain. The guide book recommended just walking to the main road and hailing a passing taxi -- not one that's waiting for you. We watched as other tourists grimaced and shelled out the dough. The road was a bit far from the ferry, but we strapped on our gear and headed out.
As we stood on the corner, our taxi driver reappeared. He'd do it for 7 bucks a person now. We countered with 4. He drove away -- I guess to wait for the next ferry (which was hours away).
Another a moped pulled up, an older German guy with his Thai wife on the back. Now, I realize that many different nationalities actually do fall in love, but at this point every time I saw a white guy with a Thai woman, I only thought, "Ugh… creepy sex tourist." This guy told the Swiss girls and Christian (who were all now leaving me out by talking in German, which is understandable) that he'd take us to the beach we wanted for 20 bucks. He bids us to come with him down the road as he went to get his truck. We start after him but a pack of dogs come out to greet us and the Swiss girls start screaming. I tell them to look at the dogs' tails, which were all wagging friendly-like -- the dogs were just saying hi, not attacking. But we didn't continue down the road, deciding to stay near the main road.
Our taxi driver reappears again and this time he's thought things over and could possibly take us for 6 bucks each. We told him we'd already found a ride for 20 bucks but if he wanted to beat that, that's fine. He grouches and gets back in his truck but doesn't leave.
A few minutes later, the German guy reappears with his truck and waves us over. He doesn't want the taxi driver to see him taking us because it's illegal to drive a non-licensed taxi. Oh dear. The taxi driver is eyeing us and comes over and starts yapping. The German guy's wife says something and he leaves but he is definitely not happy. The woman tells us that she told him we were friends and they were giving us a ride.
Whoops.
We pile into the back of the truck and off we go. It turns out to be quite a drive and a cramped one at that. We try to find the hotel the Swiss girls had looked up but have no luck and end up in a very nice cottage-type hotel room, steps from the beach. After settling, we all troop out to find food. Koh Samui turns out to be quite expensive (although Christian and I shared a room again at about 6 bucks each). We went to restaurant after restaurant where all the main courses were 7 dollars or more. Of course it seems ridiculous now to be put off by that, but when you're used to eating wonderful meals for minimum money, it's a lot. We ended up at a fairly bland spot but I had the crab noodle salad (basically glass noodles with a little bit of greenery and seafood) which was pretty good. Except when I chomped down on a ridiculously hot pepper and tears started streaming down my face. Gotta look out for those, they bite.
My eye looked dreadful that night and hurt pretty badly. I got little sleep. Christian had told me when we were in Krabi that once he was on vacation with his girlfriend in Australia and she came down with an eye infection. It hurt her more and more so she decided to go to a hospital except they had no car and the closest hospital was 75 miles away. They had to hire a taxi and pay an arm and a leg to save her eye because, as it turns out, she had some sort of flesh-eating bacteria which had already eaten out a chunk of her eye! So of course this story is in my head and then Christian brings it up again.
The next morning, the eye is even worse. And it won't stop crying. Christian's already up and out and about. I decide to go to Subway for lunch and also stop at a pharmacy. My weeping eye is so painful, I don't know what to do. Nothing at the pharmacy is suitable. I shuffled blindly back to the beach, found Christian surrounded by all the gorgeous, nubile Swiss girls and tell him I'm giong to the hospital. I went back to the room where I start crying in earnest. Christian comes in and asks if I want him to go with me. He clearly doesn't want to and I'm not about to ask a him to give up beach time with 6 lovely ladies for me, the ancient one. Plus… OF COURSE I WANT HIM TO COME. I don't want to go to another Thai hospital by myself -- particularly since this one was guaranteed to be not as nice as Bumrungrad. But I tell him no, it's okay, go have fun on the beach as I wash my eye out again. He wavers, "Are you sure?" NO I'M NOT SURE! "Yeah. I'll be fine." "I think maybe I should come with you," he says -- but not sounding too sure of it. WHY IS THIS EVEN UP FOR DEBATE? "No, it's fine," I say, crying again. He goes back to the beach. I go to find a taxi. I can't believe he let me go alone.
Taxi charges me six bucks to go about 4 minutes. The hospital is a smallish clinic. There are two people waiting. I sign in and am seen immediately. A nice doctor and a couple of nurses make me lie down on a gurney where the doctor swabs my eye (fun!) and then the nurses basically hold me down and pry my goopy, inflamed eye open and rinse it with saline for 5 minutes. It wasn't exactly painful, but incredibly uncomfortable -- seeing liquid pouring in my eye for so long. I tried to pretend I was being tortured and needed to stay strong and valiant. But that sucked.
Then the doctor bound my eye up with a cotton wadding and tape and sent me away to another window to pick up my "painkillers" and antibiotic eye drops. Painkillers! Yay! The nurse hands me a foil packet of painkillers I've never heard of before: Paracetamol. Oooh! The doctor had anaesthetized my eye while swabbing so it was feeling pretty good at the moment but I was looking forward to dozing a bit when I got back to the hotel and could take one of the pills. I paid the bill - 30 bucks for doctor and antibiotics and pain pills.
With my sense of balance and depth perception impaired, I weaved out into the parking lot to wave down a cab on the street. One stopped immediately. I told him the hotel and asked how much. He said 12 dollars! "It's half a mile away and I just came out of the hospital!!! What would Buddha say!?! It cost 6 to get here. I won't pay more than that." He smiled sheepishly and off we went.
Back at the hotel, I walked lopsidedly down the the beach. Christian and his harem were playing card games and they all gasped dramatically when I approached. I told Christian I was going to sleep for a bit since I was taking painkillers and they'd probably knock me out. I took the pills with some water and Christian walked me back to the hotel room, holding my arm. I couldn't really make out steps very well with only one eye. I lay down and Christian told me he was going out for a bit, and did I need anything. I told him I wanted a real eye patch, if he could find one. I figured if I was going to wear this stupid cotton one, I might as well go whole hog and have a scary black one. Really take this new pirate look all the way. Or at least get a parrot.
I try to sleep… waiting for the wooziness to come on. Been awhile since my neck surgery but I remembered the relaxing "duuuuhhhh" sensation. It wasn't coming. I fell asleep eventually and when Christian returned, they still weren't working. Disappointed, I got up. My eye still hurt. No luck with the eye patch, Christian said. Hmmm. I found a black pen and went into the bathroom.
That'll do.
We met the girls for dinner -- another unremarkable Thai place. At one point one of the girls tried to convince Christian that another girl had been Miss Switzerland the year before (Miss Swiss! Swiss Miss! Hahaha). Christian nodded and congratulated her. What are you supposed to say? "No you weren't!" and if she was, she'll be insulted and if she wasn't…she'll be insulted.
We decide to take a walk and find an internet place after dinner. I’ve popped some more painkillers and they’re still not working. I got online and looked up paracetamol. It’s Tylenol. Dang.
Christian and I decide that Koh Samui is boring and overpriced and decide to head for Koh Phangan the next day. The girls are going to stay another night.
Koh Phi Phi
Wednesday
Another gorgeous day – we took our gear, checked out and picked up the ticket receipt. We walked halfway to the beach where the boat would pick us up when I decided to check my pockets because I realized I’d slid the receipt into a pocket that had a habit of working itself up my leg and heaving out the contents. Sure enough – no receipt. In a panic, I whipped around to run back. A couple came up behind me, waving the receipt – “Did you lose this?” Whew.
Out on the beach, I wasn’t quite sure how so many tourists were going to get to Koh Phi Phi. There must have been 25 of us and they started loading us into a couple of longtail boats. I was appalled – two hours in this??? This was supposed to be an “express” boat! But it turned out the longtails were taking us out to the rather large boat docked in the harbor – which would take us there. Christian and I found some space and sat on the side of the boat, our feet dangling over. I took a couple of pictures and when I reviewed them I was shattered to see the sheer amount of dust and hairs all over them. When I’d had a mysterious hair in all of my pictures from the first week or two in India, Andy (my British travel buddy) had suggested it was on my sensor and maybe give it a good cleaning. Which I had- opening it up and going to work with optical cleaner, a lens cloth and a Q-tip. So the night before we’d left for Koh Phi Phi, I’d seen another hair and, again, gone to work. But this time, there were smears and more hair and more dust when I was done. Annoyed, I’d gotten online to see if there was a better way to clean it when I was horrified: “NEVER EVER EVER TOUCH YOUR SENSOR” all the information screamed. “YOU WILL SCRATCH IT AND IT WILL COST 500 DOLLARS TO REPLACE!!!” Mortified, I looked at the sensor – were those scratches??? Had I ruined my very expensive camera – when I still had 2 months of travel left?!?!?! Why did I have NO idea I shouldn’t touch my sensor? I certainly had never tried to clean it before! Obviously one shouldn’t touch any lens etc with your fingers but I didn’t realize that the lens cloth, clean Q-tip and optical cleaner were a terrible idea as well. In an utter panic, I texted Nikola, my photographer friend, to get advice. He told me to relax: I’d probably just transferred grease from my shutter to the sensor and that he’d done it himself with his 5D and to get Eclipse swabs and “pec pads.” Oh sure. I’ll just pop over to the giant professional camera store right around from the scuba gear shop on a island one mile long. Now I’d really dusted up my sensor and I was terrified to try cleaning it again. Which meant that until I figured out how to get Eclipse swabs, I’d have pictures full of dust and hairs. This morning’s shot of blue water, blue sky with horrible scribbly hairs and giant black dots brought me to tears.
We arrived at Koh Phi Phi where we were immediately inundated by touts (a fact of life I was now well used to). We inspected the boards of guesthouses and their accompanying rates and decided to share a room again. We picked a guesthouse slightly away from the beach and up the hill. It was a little startling to walk along the path towards the guesthouse and see signs that pointed that this was the tsunami escape route. I looked over the island and it finally hit me. You could see the wide swath of missing buildings and trees.
We checked in to our rather nifty bungalow and got ready to get some lunch and hit the beach. We walked back into “town” and sat down at a café, munching sandwiches while a stray kitten weaved around our ankles. Watching our fellow “travelers” walk by, we realized it was like the Disney version of Thailand. Completely western: internet shops, bars showing movies or “Friends” or “Family Guy,” stores all selling the same “Same Same” t-shirts and sundresses, and the ubiquitous 7-11. Ugh. And everywhere –I mean EVERYWHERE – frat boys. It seems the entire western world’s frat contingent (or similar) vacations here. Off to the beach where we discovered even more evidence that this island was definitely “Ultimate Spring Break.” It was undeniably beautiful but everywhere we looked it was all young white people, sipping drinks, some with tops on, some without, music and general frivolity. Not that I minded, it’s just a strange experience after India. It stopped feeling like travel – which was nice for a day or two, but then I started feeling guilty. Like it shouldn’t be so easy. I shouldn’t be sitting on a beach. I should be working hard for my experiences. And I had absolutely no inspiration to take pictures. How many pictures of blue water and white sand can one take (that sounds like I’m complaining – I’m not, really!).
I stepped out into the water and was shocked. It was so warm it was almost uncomfortable. Like water in a baby pool that has been sitting out in the backyard for a couple of August days. I waded in and found that it was only knee-deep for probably 500 yards*. I gave up and sat down in it, looking back at the beach where it was even more clear how devastated this island was in 2005. The entire length of the beach was missing foliage and when we’d walked over, you could see the foundations of long-gone buildings. Most of the standing structures were new but there were a couple of ghostly looking abandoned motels. Now I could see that every other palm tree was either missing its head or lopped off in the middle. It felt very strange to be enjoying myself on an island where so many had died. I went back to my towel.
*I met some New Zealanders and a Brit girl in China who told me a funny story. They’d gotten rather drunk (which is pretty much the only thing to do on Koh Phi Phi it seems) and decided to skinny dip. It was late at night so they threw off their clothes and ran out into the water. And kept running. And running. They had just arrived earlier that day so they didn’t realize there was no deep water until you’d gone very, very far out. So they kept running through the knee-deep water and soon their idea no longer seemed so great. How were they supposed to get back to the beach except walk all the way back, full frontal nudity for all the people on shore to giggle at – or keep low in the one foot deep water and look entirely ridiculous. One NZer and the Brit girl stopped and sheepishly headed back but the other NZer kept running and running for deep water.
This is how far the tide goes out.
I decided to go find some new sunglasses and left Christian for a bit. Later we headed for dinner – I had a pretty delicious BLT – and then wandered around. The evening was about to get started and since I couldn’t drink, I was absolutely not interested in being around the wasted young people stumbling about with their buckets (literally) of alcohol. We got some banana shakes and decided on another evening of “House.”
At some point after kind of drifting off, I heard a strange rustling noise. It sounded like my plastic cup that had contained my banana shake was scraping across the floor. I peered blearily over the edge of the bed and saw that it had tipped over. I reached down and instantly heard something scuttle furtively away. I squealed, which woke Christian up. He flicked on the light. I saw that my cup was half under the bed and the straw was gone. I sat up and looked around – only to see a blurry shadow disappear into the bathroom! Jamming on my glasses, I ran to the door with Christian right behind me. Threw on the light just in time to see a rat face peek out from a hole in the wall and disappear again.
Thursday
Next morning I was packing up a canvas bag I had been using mainly to tote random items around in like books, souvenirs, and potato chips. I noticed that someone had chewed a clean, almost perfect two inch in diameter hole in the side of the bag during the night. I guess the remnants of my banana shake were not filling enough so my Lays “New York Steak” potato chips were calling. However, since the chip bag was untouched, I’m assuming the rat filled up on canvas bag and didn’t have any room for them once he/she got through.
We had breakfast at a nearby café – playing gin rummy while we waited. Christian was instantly hooked. Afterwards, we beached for a bit until the sun was too much for me and I went to do some interneting. Over dinner, Christian and I discussed taking a snorkel trip to the beach from “The Beach” movie (which, by the way, was playing in every other bar on the island) and decided we’d wait until Sunday, which was my birthday. As we ate and talked, I looked up to see the Danish couple, Lene and Kasper, from my trek in Chiang Mai, walking past us. I called to them and they popped over. They were looking for somewhere to go for fruity drinks. They were clearly already sauced – sweating and giggling. Their trip was about to come to an end so they were making the most of it. Christian and I joined them and we checked out some of the local bars. One featured a Thai boxing ring where you could kick and punch the crap out of your friends (ah… a world without liability) in exchange for a free bucket of liquor. Nobody was there to entertain us (as it was pretty early) so we left. We ended up out on the beach, sitting in the sand. The Danes finally found their pina coladas and kept drinking as Christian and I watched, amused. When the evening tilted towards the Danes chasing each other around the beach (“Scandinavian Mating Ritual,” Christian whispered), we left for more “House” back at the ranch.
Friday
The pitter-patter of tiny feet (on the roof) woke me up the next morning. Monkeys! Monkeys everywhere!! – running across the porch roof, leaping into the trees, watching Christian shower through the bathroom window (awkward), and other general monkey business.
Christian came out and we spent most of the morning watching them. There was a great deal of screaming and carrying-on when a shaggy dog showed up and wanted to get involved. He clambered up on our porch, tongue out, tail wagging, so happy to see monkeys! The monkeys were SO not happy to see him and they crept closer and closer to the porch to bare their teeth at him and scream.
A couple of monkeys even crossed the porch and came down on the other side of the roof to threaten the poor mangy, good-natured canine, who had plopped himself down to hang with us. Eventually the monkeys departed (after I took about a thousand pictures of them) and Christian and I headed back to our favorite café for breakfast and more gin rummy. This was becoming a ritual. We’d play, I’d sip my coffee and then we’d head to the beach. Koh Phi Phi was easy to get sucked into.
Today was different though. It was Friday, which meant since I’d started my antibiotics on Saturday, it was 6 days later and I could finally have that fruity cocktail on the beach! We plunked our stuff down on the sand next to a friend of Christian’s who he knew from his time in Australia. While they chatted, I headed to the bar and picked up two pina coladas for C and myself. So delicious. Now, this is what a beach is about. I took some pictures of GiRalph enjoying his pina colada and got a few strange looks.
Eventually, I left Christian with his friends to do some interneting and get out of the sun. I saw Pulp Fiction was about to start at a nearby bar and plopped myself down. Hadn’t seen that flick in years. Eventually Christian joined me and when it was over, we went to dinner. The Danes came by on their way to dinner and said they’d meet us at the Irish pub (!!) at 9. They looked a little worse for wear after the previous night, but it was their last day, so they weren’t about to stay in. At 9, Christian and I headed to the Irish pub and upstairs to play pool. No Danes. We went downstairs at 10:30. No Danes. Eventually they appeared but none of us wanted to stay at the pub so we went back to the Thai Boxing arena. People were actually fighting this time --- in the ring and out—because the Danes seemed to get into a bit of a tiff and Kasper disappeared. Lene stayed with us for a bit and then went after him. Christian and I stopped by another terrible bar and then headed home. We passed a gaggle of young British men – all in polo shirts with popped collars, visors slightly twisted to one side, artfully mussed hair, long plaid shorts and either flip flops or sneakers with pulled up socks, all loudly calling attention to themselves both verbally and visually. “Where’s the golf tournament?” I asked. And I thought America had cornered the market on tools.
Saturday
Same thing – breakfast, cards, beach, bar, movie. See what I mean? The golf tournament boys were too much to face so Christian and I booked our snorkeling trip for the next day and spent 3 bucks on a pirated movie – “Be Kind, Rewind.” As we deserved, it was a poorly made copy of someone’s trip to the cinema with a crappy camcorder. We gave up and put on more House. At the stroke of midnight (he had been watching his phone), Christian paused the DVD and gave me a big hug, wishing me “Happy Birthday!” That was sweet of him. I was looking forward to the snorkeling trip – can’t beat a birthday swimming with fishies in clear blue water on the perfect Thai beach.
Sunday – MY BIRTHDAY!!
Woke up to ominous looking clouds. Very ominous. In fact, as soon as we sat down for breakfast, the sky opened up. And it wasn’t about to stop. We played cards and drank coffee, patiently waiting. Nope. Eventually, under an umbrella, we headed towards the tourism office where we were supposed to meet the snorkeling group. Trip was cancelled. I was definitely in a funk now. Poor Christian tried as he might to cheer me up. We wandered through town and I bought myself a birthday sundress (minus the “sun” part). It was 15 bucks but I got the store clerk down to 8 dollars by showing him my driver’s license for a “birthday” discount. Then we tried to find me some cake. No luck. We stopped for lunch at a Mexican place where we had some pretty delicious fajitas. I was starting to feel a little better.
The rain was not about to let up, so Christian decided he was going to go back and read for a bit (he was in the middle of the last “Harry Potter”) and I was going to get a Thai massage. We’d meet up at the bar that showed “Pulp Fiction” because today was “Blades of Glory” and “Anchorman.”
The massage was drool-worthy. I had an oil-based massage as the dry massages tend to hurt. It cost 10 dollars for one hour. The day was definitely getting better even if the weather was not. After my massage, I picked up a lychee-flavored Bacardi breezer (yum), hit the internet and then walked to the bar. Christian hadn’t appeared yet and I was seated near a couple of young men, one of whom was wearing a Yankees hat. We got to talking which led to my revealing that it was my birthday, which meant now I wasn’t buying any more of my own beer. By the time, Christian appeared, I must admit I was feeling no pain. After the movies, we headed yet again to the Thai Boxing bar, but first, Christian bought me a birthday booze bucket.
We got to chatting with some Canadians and eventually found ourselves in the bar. It was much more lively than I’d seen it previously (but it was also midnight or so). I look up and one of the Canadians is in the ring! He didn’t win but he was pretty good, actually. One of the other Canadians bought me some sort of horrible shot and that was it for me. No more. It was supposedly a “Black Moon” party night (the Thai islands are notorious for their “Full Moon Parties” which originated on Koh Phangan. Now they also hold these dance/rave parties on “Half Moon” and “Black Moon” --no moon-- nights) but no one really seemed to be out. The rain had finally stopped so there was one lone flame twirler. Lame. Christian led me stumbling home where I promptly fell asleep in my contacts.
Monday
Got up early to catch boat back to Krabi. I slept on the boat and felt remarkably good, considering. It was another grey and yucky day out. Next we hopped in a mini-bus which dumped us at a roadside café for 2 hours. Then a giant tourist bus picked us up to take us to the ferry to Koh Samui. They started a movie, “The Italian Job” but there was only enough time to watch ¾’s of it – which is irritating. But at least it had amazing subtitles as well.
Christian and I had made friends with some young Swiss girls at the roadside café and on the ferry we decided we were all going to the same area and we’d stick together for a bit.
Another gorgeous day – we took our gear, checked out and picked up the ticket receipt. We walked halfway to the beach where the boat would pick us up when I decided to check my pockets because I realized I’d slid the receipt into a pocket that had a habit of working itself up my leg and heaving out the contents. Sure enough – no receipt. In a panic, I whipped around to run back. A couple came up behind me, waving the receipt – “Did you lose this?” Whew.
Out on the beach, I wasn’t quite sure how so many tourists were going to get to Koh Phi Phi. There must have been 25 of us and they started loading us into a couple of longtail boats. I was appalled – two hours in this??? This was supposed to be an “express” boat! But it turned out the longtails were taking us out to the rather large boat docked in the harbor – which would take us there. Christian and I found some space and sat on the side of the boat, our feet dangling over. I took a couple of pictures and when I reviewed them I was shattered to see the sheer amount of dust and hairs all over them. When I’d had a mysterious hair in all of my pictures from the first week or two in India, Andy (my British travel buddy) had suggested it was on my sensor and maybe give it a good cleaning. Which I had- opening it up and going to work with optical cleaner, a lens cloth and a Q-tip. So the night before we’d left for Koh Phi Phi, I’d seen another hair and, again, gone to work. But this time, there were smears and more hair and more dust when I was done. Annoyed, I’d gotten online to see if there was a better way to clean it when I was horrified: “NEVER EVER EVER TOUCH YOUR SENSOR” all the information screamed. “YOU WILL SCRATCH IT AND IT WILL COST 500 DOLLARS TO REPLACE!!!” Mortified, I looked at the sensor – were those scratches??? Had I ruined my very expensive camera – when I still had 2 months of travel left?!?!?! Why did I have NO idea I shouldn’t touch my sensor? I certainly had never tried to clean it before! Obviously one shouldn’t touch any lens etc with your fingers but I didn’t realize that the lens cloth, clean Q-tip and optical cleaner were a terrible idea as well. In an utter panic, I texted Nikola, my photographer friend, to get advice. He told me to relax: I’d probably just transferred grease from my shutter to the sensor and that he’d done it himself with his 5D and to get Eclipse swabs and “pec pads.” Oh sure. I’ll just pop over to the giant professional camera store right around from the scuba gear shop on a island one mile long. Now I’d really dusted up my sensor and I was terrified to try cleaning it again. Which meant that until I figured out how to get Eclipse swabs, I’d have pictures full of dust and hairs. This morning’s shot of blue water, blue sky with horrible scribbly hairs and giant black dots brought me to tears.
We arrived at Koh Phi Phi where we were immediately inundated by touts (a fact of life I was now well used to). We inspected the boards of guesthouses and their accompanying rates and decided to share a room again. We picked a guesthouse slightly away from the beach and up the hill. It was a little startling to walk along the path towards the guesthouse and see signs that pointed that this was the tsunami escape route. I looked over the island and it finally hit me. You could see the wide swath of missing buildings and trees.
We checked in to our rather nifty bungalow and got ready to get some lunch and hit the beach. We walked back into “town” and sat down at a café, munching sandwiches while a stray kitten weaved around our ankles. Watching our fellow “travelers” walk by, we realized it was like the Disney version of Thailand. Completely western: internet shops, bars showing movies or “Friends” or “Family Guy,” stores all selling the same “Same Same” t-shirts and sundresses, and the ubiquitous 7-11. Ugh. And everywhere –I mean EVERYWHERE – frat boys. It seems the entire western world’s frat contingent (or similar) vacations here. Off to the beach where we discovered even more evidence that this island was definitely “Ultimate Spring Break.” It was undeniably beautiful but everywhere we looked it was all young white people, sipping drinks, some with tops on, some without, music and general frivolity. Not that I minded, it’s just a strange experience after India. It stopped feeling like travel – which was nice for a day or two, but then I started feeling guilty. Like it shouldn’t be so easy. I shouldn’t be sitting on a beach. I should be working hard for my experiences. And I had absolutely no inspiration to take pictures. How many pictures of blue water and white sand can one take (that sounds like I’m complaining – I’m not, really!).
I stepped out into the water and was shocked. It was so warm it was almost uncomfortable. Like water in a baby pool that has been sitting out in the backyard for a couple of August days. I waded in and found that it was only knee-deep for probably 500 yards*. I gave up and sat down in it, looking back at the beach where it was even more clear how devastated this island was in 2005. The entire length of the beach was missing foliage and when we’d walked over, you could see the foundations of long-gone buildings. Most of the standing structures were new but there were a couple of ghostly looking abandoned motels. Now I could see that every other palm tree was either missing its head or lopped off in the middle. It felt very strange to be enjoying myself on an island where so many had died. I went back to my towel.
*I met some New Zealanders and a Brit girl in China who told me a funny story. They’d gotten rather drunk (which is pretty much the only thing to do on Koh Phi Phi it seems) and decided to skinny dip. It was late at night so they threw off their clothes and ran out into the water. And kept running. And running. They had just arrived earlier that day so they didn’t realize there was no deep water until you’d gone very, very far out. So they kept running through the knee-deep water and soon their idea no longer seemed so great. How were they supposed to get back to the beach except walk all the way back, full frontal nudity for all the people on shore to giggle at – or keep low in the one foot deep water and look entirely ridiculous. One NZer and the Brit girl stopped and sheepishly headed back but the other NZer kept running and running for deep water.
This is how far the tide goes out.
I decided to go find some new sunglasses and left Christian for a bit. Later we headed for dinner – I had a pretty delicious BLT – and then wandered around. The evening was about to get started and since I couldn’t drink, I was absolutely not interested in being around the wasted young people stumbling about with their buckets (literally) of alcohol. We got some banana shakes and decided on another evening of “House.”
At some point after kind of drifting off, I heard a strange rustling noise. It sounded like my plastic cup that had contained my banana shake was scraping across the floor. I peered blearily over the edge of the bed and saw that it had tipped over. I reached down and instantly heard something scuttle furtively away. I squealed, which woke Christian up. He flicked on the light. I saw that my cup was half under the bed and the straw was gone. I sat up and looked around – only to see a blurry shadow disappear into the bathroom! Jamming on my glasses, I ran to the door with Christian right behind me. Threw on the light just in time to see a rat face peek out from a hole in the wall and disappear again.
Thursday
Next morning I was packing up a canvas bag I had been using mainly to tote random items around in like books, souvenirs, and potato chips. I noticed that someone had chewed a clean, almost perfect two inch in diameter hole in the side of the bag during the night. I guess the remnants of my banana shake were not filling enough so my Lays “New York Steak” potato chips were calling. However, since the chip bag was untouched, I’m assuming the rat filled up on canvas bag and didn’t have any room for them once he/she got through.
We had breakfast at a nearby café – playing gin rummy while we waited. Christian was instantly hooked. Afterwards, we beached for a bit until the sun was too much for me and I went to do some interneting. Over dinner, Christian and I discussed taking a snorkel trip to the beach from “The Beach” movie (which, by the way, was playing in every other bar on the island) and decided we’d wait until Sunday, which was my birthday. As we ate and talked, I looked up to see the Danish couple, Lene and Kasper, from my trek in Chiang Mai, walking past us. I called to them and they popped over. They were looking for somewhere to go for fruity drinks. They were clearly already sauced – sweating and giggling. Their trip was about to come to an end so they were making the most of it. Christian and I joined them and we checked out some of the local bars. One featured a Thai boxing ring where you could kick and punch the crap out of your friends (ah… a world without liability) in exchange for a free bucket of liquor. Nobody was there to entertain us (as it was pretty early) so we left. We ended up out on the beach, sitting in the sand. The Danes finally found their pina coladas and kept drinking as Christian and I watched, amused. When the evening tilted towards the Danes chasing each other around the beach (“Scandinavian Mating Ritual,” Christian whispered), we left for more “House” back at the ranch.
Friday
The pitter-patter of tiny feet (on the roof) woke me up the next morning. Monkeys! Monkeys everywhere!! – running across the porch roof, leaping into the trees, watching Christian shower through the bathroom window (awkward), and other general monkey business.
Christian came out and we spent most of the morning watching them. There was a great deal of screaming and carrying-on when a shaggy dog showed up and wanted to get involved. He clambered up on our porch, tongue out, tail wagging, so happy to see monkeys! The monkeys were SO not happy to see him and they crept closer and closer to the porch to bare their teeth at him and scream.
A couple of monkeys even crossed the porch and came down on the other side of the roof to threaten the poor mangy, good-natured canine, who had plopped himself down to hang with us. Eventually the monkeys departed (after I took about a thousand pictures of them) and Christian and I headed back to our favorite café for breakfast and more gin rummy. This was becoming a ritual. We’d play, I’d sip my coffee and then we’d head to the beach. Koh Phi Phi was easy to get sucked into.
Today was different though. It was Friday, which meant since I’d started my antibiotics on Saturday, it was 6 days later and I could finally have that fruity cocktail on the beach! We plunked our stuff down on the sand next to a friend of Christian’s who he knew from his time in Australia. While they chatted, I headed to the bar and picked up two pina coladas for C and myself. So delicious. Now, this is what a beach is about. I took some pictures of GiRalph enjoying his pina colada and got a few strange looks.
Eventually, I left Christian with his friends to do some interneting and get out of the sun. I saw Pulp Fiction was about to start at a nearby bar and plopped myself down. Hadn’t seen that flick in years. Eventually Christian joined me and when it was over, we went to dinner. The Danes came by on their way to dinner and said they’d meet us at the Irish pub (!!) at 9. They looked a little worse for wear after the previous night, but it was their last day, so they weren’t about to stay in. At 9, Christian and I headed to the Irish pub and upstairs to play pool. No Danes. We went downstairs at 10:30. No Danes. Eventually they appeared but none of us wanted to stay at the pub so we went back to the Thai Boxing arena. People were actually fighting this time --- in the ring and out—because the Danes seemed to get into a bit of a tiff and Kasper disappeared. Lene stayed with us for a bit and then went after him. Christian and I stopped by another terrible bar and then headed home. We passed a gaggle of young British men – all in polo shirts with popped collars, visors slightly twisted to one side, artfully mussed hair, long plaid shorts and either flip flops or sneakers with pulled up socks, all loudly calling attention to themselves both verbally and visually. “Where’s the golf tournament?” I asked. And I thought America had cornered the market on tools.
Saturday
Same thing – breakfast, cards, beach, bar, movie. See what I mean? The golf tournament boys were too much to face so Christian and I booked our snorkeling trip for the next day and spent 3 bucks on a pirated movie – “Be Kind, Rewind.” As we deserved, it was a poorly made copy of someone’s trip to the cinema with a crappy camcorder. We gave up and put on more House. At the stroke of midnight (he had been watching his phone), Christian paused the DVD and gave me a big hug, wishing me “Happy Birthday!” That was sweet of him. I was looking forward to the snorkeling trip – can’t beat a birthday swimming with fishies in clear blue water on the perfect Thai beach.
Sunday – MY BIRTHDAY!!
Woke up to ominous looking clouds. Very ominous. In fact, as soon as we sat down for breakfast, the sky opened up. And it wasn’t about to stop. We played cards and drank coffee, patiently waiting. Nope. Eventually, under an umbrella, we headed towards the tourism office where we were supposed to meet the snorkeling group. Trip was cancelled. I was definitely in a funk now. Poor Christian tried as he might to cheer me up. We wandered through town and I bought myself a birthday sundress (minus the “sun” part). It was 15 bucks but I got the store clerk down to 8 dollars by showing him my driver’s license for a “birthday” discount. Then we tried to find me some cake. No luck. We stopped for lunch at a Mexican place where we had some pretty delicious fajitas. I was starting to feel a little better.
The rain was not about to let up, so Christian decided he was going to go back and read for a bit (he was in the middle of the last “Harry Potter”) and I was going to get a Thai massage. We’d meet up at the bar that showed “Pulp Fiction” because today was “Blades of Glory” and “Anchorman.”
The massage was drool-worthy. I had an oil-based massage as the dry massages tend to hurt. It cost 10 dollars for one hour. The day was definitely getting better even if the weather was not. After my massage, I picked up a lychee-flavored Bacardi breezer (yum), hit the internet and then walked to the bar. Christian hadn’t appeared yet and I was seated near a couple of young men, one of whom was wearing a Yankees hat. We got to talking which led to my revealing that it was my birthday, which meant now I wasn’t buying any more of my own beer. By the time, Christian appeared, I must admit I was feeling no pain. After the movies, we headed yet again to the Thai Boxing bar, but first, Christian bought me a birthday booze bucket.
We got to chatting with some Canadians and eventually found ourselves in the bar. It was much more lively than I’d seen it previously (but it was also midnight or so). I look up and one of the Canadians is in the ring! He didn’t win but he was pretty good, actually. One of the other Canadians bought me some sort of horrible shot and that was it for me. No more. It was supposedly a “Black Moon” party night (the Thai islands are notorious for their “Full Moon Parties” which originated on Koh Phangan. Now they also hold these dance/rave parties on “Half Moon” and “Black Moon” --no moon-- nights) but no one really seemed to be out. The rain had finally stopped so there was one lone flame twirler. Lame. Christian led me stumbling home where I promptly fell asleep in my contacts.
Monday
Got up early to catch boat back to Krabi. I slept on the boat and felt remarkably good, considering. It was another grey and yucky day out. Next we hopped in a mini-bus which dumped us at a roadside café for 2 hours. Then a giant tourist bus picked us up to take us to the ferry to Koh Samui. They started a movie, “The Italian Job” but there was only enough time to watch ¾’s of it – which is irritating. But at least it had amazing subtitles as well.
Christian and I had made friends with some young Swiss girls at the roadside café and on the ferry we decided we were all going to the same area and we’d stick together for a bit.
Parasites and Krabi
I slept until mid-afternoon the next day. I could barely drag myself out of bed. Something was definitely off. When I finally did, I crawled to the internet and then watched a little soccer with the Irish boys before crawling back to bed again. The next day, I again woke up late and tried to go out around Chiang Mai. I had a lovely dim sum dinner/late lunch and returned to the hostel when it got dark. I was feeling a little better now. My friends were congregating and trying to decide what the evening's festivities were. But trying to get a dozen people out the door was like herding cats. I don't think we actually got out the door until almost midnight. There was a great deal of bargaining with a tuk-tuk driver (how the boys thought they'd get 12 people in a tuk-tuk, I'll never know, but it involved people hanging out doors and off the back -- and probably a later trip to the hospital). Reluctantly, we hired a songthraew and went out on the town.
I had a train back to Bangkok the next day in the early afternoon. Another night train, but this time it was open-aired, which I rather liked. The scenery was luscious. I had some terrible fried rice for dinner and read and wrote most of the way.
Arrived in Bangkok around 7 a.m. I planned to take a night bus down south to the islands that evening so I had some time to kill. I had a few errands to run first -- some interneting, pick up the stuff I left in storage and mail a box home. My tummy was an absolute mess by the time I was at the internet cafe. I must have gotten up 6 times. I felt awful and weak. I had emailed Gavin from Chiang Mai about any nice hospitals in Bangkok and he'd recommended Bumrungrad. Considering the first two syllables -- I figured it was apropos. Time to go see a professional.
I caught a cab to the skytrain -- very nice! A quick (thank goodness since my tummy had no thoughts of settling down) and easy ride dropped me off only a few blocks from the hospital. I wandered inside and found myself in what seemed like a hotel -- gorgeous lobby complete with Starbucks. Little tables and comfortable chairs spread around the floor. I found a receptionist who told me to go to the third floor to sign in. I noticed on the way up the escalator that there was a McDonald's and an Au Bon Pain. I registered and was ushered down the hallway where I figured I'd be waiting for awhile. I was intimidated by being in a hospital in another country (I'm also a baby about being sick and alone), but this was an incredible facility. Within five minutes of sitting down, I was doing the usual blood-pressure/weighing triage. Five minutes after that, I'm ushered into see a doctor. I am asked to give a sample (no problem, buddy) and told it'll be about an hour before lab results are back. I have a little lunch and return after thirty minutes or so. Lab results are back. I apparently picked up a few critters in India who cozied up in my innards. Doctor prescribed me an antibiotic course for 3 days and told me I couldn't drink for 6. Luckily, my birthday was in 8 days, so I could live with that --although I was looking forward to a pina colada on the beach. I left in the pouring rain and hoped I'd feel better soon.
There was a shopping center nearby so I perused the sale racks but, after not shopping for regular stuff for so long (and being on a backpacker's budget), everything seemed absurdly overpriced. But it was nice being in a mall for the first time in over 6 weeks -- despite the fact I visited the bathroom on every floor. Eventually it was time to return to the train station where I was to catch a bus.
Another young man was waiting for the same bus at the bus office. We were ushered to a cab and taken to Khao San Road. Christian, a 22 year old German, lamented that he'd just spent money on a taxi from Khao San Road to the bus station, not realizing we'd be taken right back there. We introduced ourselves and decided to have a beer while we waited (my last before I was due to start the antibiotics). The sky opened up again as we sat and chatted, water swirled around our ankles.
At last, it was time to board the bus for a 12 hour trip to Krabi. Our bus was a typical double decker tourist bus. The bathroom, luggage area and what appeared to be either a VIP area or maybe where the bus staff slept were downstairs and our seats were upstairs. Each tourist bus seems to have a different theme design. Ours was an aquarium. I have seen a bus that was decked out in a sort of urban theme with fake graffiti and a cartoon character on the side of the bus giving passing traffic the finger.
Christian and I chose seats up front. Not many people were on the bus. Almost immediately, they started a movie - "Hitman." Great movie -- purely because whoever was in charge of subtitles/closed captioning (not sure why a movie already in English had English subtitles) had about as much a grasp of English as I did of... well, any other language. I laughed the entire way through it. After it ended (completely unedited by the way -- nudity galore), "P.S. I Love You" began. Terrible. Christian turned to me and said that they showed the same movies on his flight from Australia and if the pattern continued "I am Legend" would be next, followed by "The Golden Compass." Unfortunately, the bus driver decided it was nighty-night time and no more movies were played. I took my meds and tried to go to sleep but realized that it was 10:30 and we had not stopped for dinner.
I drifted off finally but around midnight the bus pulled over and the driver told us we had a half hour for dinner at the roadside cafe. I would soon discover this is typical of night buses. They don't pull over for dinner until you're already asleep, then you groggily spoon down some noodle dish, climb back on board and can't sleep again until 2 a.m. -- which is too bad because the bus is going to arrive at its destination at 5 or 6 a.m. We arrived around 7 a.m. and pulled ourselves together to try and figure out what was next. Christian and I really didn't have a plan, so we ended up getting a taxi with a couple of rock-climbing Canadians who recommended we check out Hat Railey.
The scenery was stunning -- limestone cliffs jutting straight up -- an absolute rock-climber's paradise. We had breakfast with the Canadians but caught a boat out to Hat Railey on our own as they needed to do some shopping for supplies.
The water was so blue it seemed fake.
Hat Railey is a bit Honeymoon Land. One side of the spit of land (it seems like an island but it's not -- it's just impossible to get to without a boat because of the cliffs, so I'm probably gonna keep calling it an island) is where all the pricey hotels are and the other side is where the cheap hotels are because the beach is really just some mud and rocks. But it's a 5-10 minute walk to the nice area so it seems fine.
We find a huge hotel room on East Railey for 10 dollars a night and decide to share as it has two double beds. This seems to be what you do when you travel -- no one finds it weird to basically shack up with a total stranger in order to save money. Christian had mentioned a girlfriend many times and as we settled in, he called her. When he's done I ask him if it's okay with her that he's sharing a room with another girl. He says, "At first she was jealous, but then I told her how old you are, and now she doesn't care."
Great.
I wanted to say, "Did you happen to mention you thought I was 25 until I made the mistake of mentioning having worked in television for ten years, which confused you?"
Anyway... with my ego smarting, we headed for the beach for a bit and then to do a little exploring.
We came around the back end of the "island," found a family of monkeys and then amazing scenery.
Christian grooming a friend.
Limestone cliffs leaned overhead, clear blue waters washing into a cave and a sunset to die for. We plopped ourselves down in the sand to watch the evening sky change to an angry violet and pink and then decided to find some dinner.
I was not liking how expensive the Hat Railey was. After dinner, we puttered around a little more and then ended up at a restaurant showing "I am Legend." Unfortunately, it was halfway through, but we had dessert and watched it. I remarked that we kept seeing the movies from his flight so was "Golden Compass" next?
The bus ride had zonked us out quite a bit so we headed back to our room to watch an episode of “House, MD” on Christian’s tiny dvd player. “House” is one of those shows that I always enjoy when I remember to watch. But I rarely remember.
Next morning, we woke up to a cloudy/rainy day. Christian got up early and went for food. I went later and was even more dismayed by the high prices. We braved the drizzle and swam in the hotel’s pool for a bit.
There was a couple staying next door to us. I sat on the porch for a bit while Christian was out and heard the young Thai woman swear loudly quite a bit at her older Western “boyfriend.” Then Christian later heard him telling her, “You just don’t understand. I am a very important person. I am an important photographer where I come from.” Ah, so this wasn’t exactly an established relationship.
We ate banana pancakes for lunch and walked by the restaurant from the night before. A board was propped up in the doorway, listing tonight's movie: "The Golden Compass." Christian and I looked at each other.
We explored the hilly part of the peninsula a bit when the sun vaguely reemerged and decided we’d try to get to the other beach for dinner that night. I’d read that we were on the side where the fancy hotels were and the other beach was where all the rock climbers (including the guys we’d met on the first day) and backpackers tended to congregate. In other words: cheaper. We were informed that there was a path that took about 20 minutes up and over the rocky hill. But we could not find it to save our lives. Since it was getting dark rather quickly, we decided to get a boat over. Of course the boat drivers wanted exhorbitant amounts for the 2 minute journey and I was getting rather sick of their theatric complaints and refusals. I often felt that Thai people employed in transportation would rather not make any money than bargain with you. It was an unwelcome change to the friendly bargaining with Indian folks. Here was pouting and stomping away. Oh, and also publicly drunk. Nice.
We finally teamed up with some other backpackers who wanted to make the journey so it only cost us 3 bucks each (remember, our hotel room was 10 dollars so taking 6 people on a 2 minute ride for 18 dollars is RIDICULOUS – but we’re trapped). Frankly, it wasn’t worth it. I expected at least a slightly younger rowdier scene but it was only slightly younger, not any less expensive, and not at all rowdy. We ate dinner and decided to head back – except now it was 10 dollars for us both to get back. No one else was going. We stood there for half an hour waiting to see if anyone else was going back. We offered 6 bucks, then 8 bucks to the boat driver. Nope. He went back to his beer. Ten dollars? Really? We could see the other beach. You just can’t get there unless you’re prepared to swim around a very rocky crag. We were just about to give in (as the boat guy knew we would) when a young local guy walked down the path and up to us, “Are you going back to Hat Railey?”
“Trying to,” I said.
“And they want 10 bucks?” He asked.
“Yup.”
“You can come with me, I’m going over there – but I’m walking.”
Christian and I looked at each other. We wondered what he wanted – why would any locals do something for a tourist for free?
We followed him down the beach and made friendly chitchat. I saw him enter a large cave ahead of us and got nervous – tucked my wallet into the back of my shorts. I had my head lamp flashlight on and our “guide” had a flashlight as well and suddenly he was clamboring up a rock like a monkey. He helped us up to follow him and we were on a path up, up, up the hill in the dark. There was a rope to help us and mostly it was a well-worn path so it wasn't scary. In ten minutes we were up and over on Hat Railey – with our ten bucks still in our pockets. Our guide was on his way to see his girlfriend and waved goodbye. Christian and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t wanted anything. Clearly, we’d become really jaded travelers. We went back to our room (after stopping to save a gecko from a cat who was having a really great time batting it around and chomping off its tail) and watched another episode of “House,” hoping for better weather for our last day.
Luck was with us – it was gorgeous when we got up. We’d decided to rent a sea kayak for a couple of hours after lunch. Initially we were going to go on the “James Bond” pre-packaged tour where you take a boat out and around the rock from "The Man with the Golden Gun” and then do other touristy things like visit a cave where there’s a reclining Buddha and a floating “village” – but we felt the 30 bucks wasn’t really worth it when we could rent a kayak for 10 bucks and see basically the same stone structures. We toured around the limestone cliffs, maneuvered in and out of caves full of colorful fish just below the surface, paddled around to the other side of the “island” where a couple of jiggly nudists scampered on the beach, stopped on a coral beach where I promptly sliced a one-inch gash on my foot and then paddled back, blood seeping in the water at the bottom of the kayak.
Back to the hotel room where I doctored myself up and then we walked to the fancy beach to swim and watch another sunset.
Dinner at the same movie place – tonight was “Hot Fuzz” – great flick, Christian hadn’t seen it before. We had an early morning boat to Koh Phi Phi so we didn’t stay out. Another episode of "House" -- and I'm hooked.
I had a train back to Bangkok the next day in the early afternoon. Another night train, but this time it was open-aired, which I rather liked. The scenery was luscious. I had some terrible fried rice for dinner and read and wrote most of the way.
Arrived in Bangkok around 7 a.m. I planned to take a night bus down south to the islands that evening so I had some time to kill. I had a few errands to run first -- some interneting, pick up the stuff I left in storage and mail a box home. My tummy was an absolute mess by the time I was at the internet cafe. I must have gotten up 6 times. I felt awful and weak. I had emailed Gavin from Chiang Mai about any nice hospitals in Bangkok and he'd recommended Bumrungrad. Considering the first two syllables -- I figured it was apropos. Time to go see a professional.
I caught a cab to the skytrain -- very nice! A quick (thank goodness since my tummy had no thoughts of settling down) and easy ride dropped me off only a few blocks from the hospital. I wandered inside and found myself in what seemed like a hotel -- gorgeous lobby complete with Starbucks. Little tables and comfortable chairs spread around the floor. I found a receptionist who told me to go to the third floor to sign in. I noticed on the way up the escalator that there was a McDonald's and an Au Bon Pain. I registered and was ushered down the hallway where I figured I'd be waiting for awhile. I was intimidated by being in a hospital in another country (I'm also a baby about being sick and alone), but this was an incredible facility. Within five minutes of sitting down, I was doing the usual blood-pressure/weighing triage. Five minutes after that, I'm ushered into see a doctor. I am asked to give a sample (no problem, buddy) and told it'll be about an hour before lab results are back. I have a little lunch and return after thirty minutes or so. Lab results are back. I apparently picked up a few critters in India who cozied up in my innards. Doctor prescribed me an antibiotic course for 3 days and told me I couldn't drink for 6. Luckily, my birthday was in 8 days, so I could live with that --although I was looking forward to a pina colada on the beach. I left in the pouring rain and hoped I'd feel better soon.
There was a shopping center nearby so I perused the sale racks but, after not shopping for regular stuff for so long (and being on a backpacker's budget), everything seemed absurdly overpriced. But it was nice being in a mall for the first time in over 6 weeks -- despite the fact I visited the bathroom on every floor. Eventually it was time to return to the train station where I was to catch a bus.
Another young man was waiting for the same bus at the bus office. We were ushered to a cab and taken to Khao San Road. Christian, a 22 year old German, lamented that he'd just spent money on a taxi from Khao San Road to the bus station, not realizing we'd be taken right back there. We introduced ourselves and decided to have a beer while we waited (my last before I was due to start the antibiotics). The sky opened up again as we sat and chatted, water swirled around our ankles.
At last, it was time to board the bus for a 12 hour trip to Krabi. Our bus was a typical double decker tourist bus. The bathroom, luggage area and what appeared to be either a VIP area or maybe where the bus staff slept were downstairs and our seats were upstairs. Each tourist bus seems to have a different theme design. Ours was an aquarium. I have seen a bus that was decked out in a sort of urban theme with fake graffiti and a cartoon character on the side of the bus giving passing traffic the finger.
Christian and I chose seats up front. Not many people were on the bus. Almost immediately, they started a movie - "Hitman." Great movie -- purely because whoever was in charge of subtitles/closed captioning (not sure why a movie already in English had English subtitles) had about as much a grasp of English as I did of... well, any other language. I laughed the entire way through it. After it ended (completely unedited by the way -- nudity galore), "P.S. I Love You" began. Terrible. Christian turned to me and said that they showed the same movies on his flight from Australia and if the pattern continued "I am Legend" would be next, followed by "The Golden Compass." Unfortunately, the bus driver decided it was nighty-night time and no more movies were played. I took my meds and tried to go to sleep but realized that it was 10:30 and we had not stopped for dinner.
I drifted off finally but around midnight the bus pulled over and the driver told us we had a half hour for dinner at the roadside cafe. I would soon discover this is typical of night buses. They don't pull over for dinner until you're already asleep, then you groggily spoon down some noodle dish, climb back on board and can't sleep again until 2 a.m. -- which is too bad because the bus is going to arrive at its destination at 5 or 6 a.m. We arrived around 7 a.m. and pulled ourselves together to try and figure out what was next. Christian and I really didn't have a plan, so we ended up getting a taxi with a couple of rock-climbing Canadians who recommended we check out Hat Railey.
The scenery was stunning -- limestone cliffs jutting straight up -- an absolute rock-climber's paradise. We had breakfast with the Canadians but caught a boat out to Hat Railey on our own as they needed to do some shopping for supplies.
The water was so blue it seemed fake.
Hat Railey is a bit Honeymoon Land. One side of the spit of land (it seems like an island but it's not -- it's just impossible to get to without a boat because of the cliffs, so I'm probably gonna keep calling it an island) is where all the pricey hotels are and the other side is where the cheap hotels are because the beach is really just some mud and rocks. But it's a 5-10 minute walk to the nice area so it seems fine.
We find a huge hotel room on East Railey for 10 dollars a night and decide to share as it has two double beds. This seems to be what you do when you travel -- no one finds it weird to basically shack up with a total stranger in order to save money. Christian had mentioned a girlfriend many times and as we settled in, he called her. When he's done I ask him if it's okay with her that he's sharing a room with another girl. He says, "At first she was jealous, but then I told her how old you are, and now she doesn't care."
Great.
I wanted to say, "Did you happen to mention you thought I was 25 until I made the mistake of mentioning having worked in television for ten years, which confused you?"
Anyway... with my ego smarting, we headed for the beach for a bit and then to do a little exploring.
We came around the back end of the "island," found a family of monkeys and then amazing scenery.
Christian grooming a friend.
Limestone cliffs leaned overhead, clear blue waters washing into a cave and a sunset to die for. We plopped ourselves down in the sand to watch the evening sky change to an angry violet and pink and then decided to find some dinner.
I was not liking how expensive the Hat Railey was. After dinner, we puttered around a little more and then ended up at a restaurant showing "I am Legend." Unfortunately, it was halfway through, but we had dessert and watched it. I remarked that we kept seeing the movies from his flight so was "Golden Compass" next?
The bus ride had zonked us out quite a bit so we headed back to our room to watch an episode of “House, MD” on Christian’s tiny dvd player. “House” is one of those shows that I always enjoy when I remember to watch. But I rarely remember.
Next morning, we woke up to a cloudy/rainy day. Christian got up early and went for food. I went later and was even more dismayed by the high prices. We braved the drizzle and swam in the hotel’s pool for a bit.
There was a couple staying next door to us. I sat on the porch for a bit while Christian was out and heard the young Thai woman swear loudly quite a bit at her older Western “boyfriend.” Then Christian later heard him telling her, “You just don’t understand. I am a very important person. I am an important photographer where I come from.” Ah, so this wasn’t exactly an established relationship.
We ate banana pancakes for lunch and walked by the restaurant from the night before. A board was propped up in the doorway, listing tonight's movie: "The Golden Compass." Christian and I looked at each other.
We explored the hilly part of the peninsula a bit when the sun vaguely reemerged and decided we’d try to get to the other beach for dinner that night. I’d read that we were on the side where the fancy hotels were and the other beach was where all the rock climbers (including the guys we’d met on the first day) and backpackers tended to congregate. In other words: cheaper. We were informed that there was a path that took about 20 minutes up and over the rocky hill. But we could not find it to save our lives. Since it was getting dark rather quickly, we decided to get a boat over. Of course the boat drivers wanted exhorbitant amounts for the 2 minute journey and I was getting rather sick of their theatric complaints and refusals. I often felt that Thai people employed in transportation would rather not make any money than bargain with you. It was an unwelcome change to the friendly bargaining with Indian folks. Here was pouting and stomping away. Oh, and also publicly drunk. Nice.
We finally teamed up with some other backpackers who wanted to make the journey so it only cost us 3 bucks each (remember, our hotel room was 10 dollars so taking 6 people on a 2 minute ride for 18 dollars is RIDICULOUS – but we’re trapped). Frankly, it wasn’t worth it. I expected at least a slightly younger rowdier scene but it was only slightly younger, not any less expensive, and not at all rowdy. We ate dinner and decided to head back – except now it was 10 dollars for us both to get back. No one else was going. We stood there for half an hour waiting to see if anyone else was going back. We offered 6 bucks, then 8 bucks to the boat driver. Nope. He went back to his beer. Ten dollars? Really? We could see the other beach. You just can’t get there unless you’re prepared to swim around a very rocky crag. We were just about to give in (as the boat guy knew we would) when a young local guy walked down the path and up to us, “Are you going back to Hat Railey?”
“Trying to,” I said.
“And they want 10 bucks?” He asked.
“Yup.”
“You can come with me, I’m going over there – but I’m walking.”
Christian and I looked at each other. We wondered what he wanted – why would any locals do something for a tourist for free?
We followed him down the beach and made friendly chitchat. I saw him enter a large cave ahead of us and got nervous – tucked my wallet into the back of my shorts. I had my head lamp flashlight on and our “guide” had a flashlight as well and suddenly he was clamboring up a rock like a monkey. He helped us up to follow him and we were on a path up, up, up the hill in the dark. There was a rope to help us and mostly it was a well-worn path so it wasn't scary. In ten minutes we were up and over on Hat Railey – with our ten bucks still in our pockets. Our guide was on his way to see his girlfriend and waved goodbye. Christian and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t wanted anything. Clearly, we’d become really jaded travelers. We went back to our room (after stopping to save a gecko from a cat who was having a really great time batting it around and chomping off its tail) and watched another episode of “House,” hoping for better weather for our last day.
Luck was with us – it was gorgeous when we got up. We’d decided to rent a sea kayak for a couple of hours after lunch. Initially we were going to go on the “James Bond” pre-packaged tour where you take a boat out and around the rock from "The Man with the Golden Gun” and then do other touristy things like visit a cave where there’s a reclining Buddha and a floating “village” – but we felt the 30 bucks wasn’t really worth it when we could rent a kayak for 10 bucks and see basically the same stone structures. We toured around the limestone cliffs, maneuvered in and out of caves full of colorful fish just below the surface, paddled around to the other side of the “island” where a couple of jiggly nudists scampered on the beach, stopped on a coral beach where I promptly sliced a one-inch gash on my foot and then paddled back, blood seeping in the water at the bottom of the kayak.
Back to the hotel room where I doctored myself up and then we walked to the fancy beach to swim and watch another sunset.
Dinner at the same movie place – tonight was “Hot Fuzz” – great flick, Christian hadn’t seen it before. We had an early morning boat to Koh Phi Phi so we didn’t stay out. Another episode of "House" -- and I'm hooked.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Day 89 of Great Banana Chip Standoff
Though I am weak from a 24 hour bus ride from Vietnam to Laos, you have not bested me yet, Banana Chips. I will not cheat and use my nail clippers as I am so inclined, though you sneer with contempt. I will rip you seam from seam by my fierce bare hands, so help me, SOMEDAY. Until then, oh Banana Chips, you are a admirable enemy. Somedays, I fear the universe may end if you relent to me or I to you - such is the consequence of our battle. But I'm not ready for surrender - I still have time. You will weaken yet... and then I shall enjoy my hard won victory, yet mourn a worthy adversary.
Even though you're from New Jersey.
Even though you're from New Jersey.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Chiang Mai Trek!
Weather seemed to be with me the next day so I decided I'd finally play tourist. Making sure I had long pants and long sleeves on, I headed to the Palace first. Bit of a game of "Frogger" with Bangkok traffic trying to get there. I arrived in one piece, somehow, and joined the line of tourists who didn't wear appropriate clothing, as I assumed my flipflops would be met with disdain. They waved me through, fortunately. I had a giggle over the tourists who were given men's work shirts and long pants or skirts to wear if they had arrived in shorts and tank tops. I think after a month in India where one doesn't show much skin unless they're at the beach, I'm surprised at how crass westerners are -- not even trying to not offend locals. At Taj Mahal even, I saw a group of pasty, fat, western women shoved into teensy shorts and sausage-casing spaghetti-strapped tank tops. No clue, no clue.
I wandered into the Grand Palace where Wat Phra Kaew houses the Emerald Boudha, and almost instantly the skies opened. Along with a hundred other people, I took shelter under a nearby pagoda typed porch. The rain was incredibly heavy. But it did afford me un-touristed shots of the beautiful golden domed temple in front of me. At one point, a young woman (Chinese possibly?) braved the rain and ran to the steps in front of the temple to have her picture taken. Everyone under the roof hooted, clapped, laughed and cheered for her. As the rain started to peter off -- and by peter off, I mean slightly less heavy than the BUCKETS it was raining when it started-- I handed over my camera to the girls next to me and high-tailed it through the puddles and up the steps. I was also cheered on, particularly when I struck a rather dramatic pose -- they laughed and laughed and clapped harder.
I noticed, after the rain stopped and everyone headed out again, that most of the Asian women around me (and particularly Thai women) seem to not be into comfortable shoes. They were almost all in some sort of heels. Even flipflops had heels. Wat_______ was beautiful. At one point, I found myself walking behind a young man in a navy blue baseball hat that had the NFL logo on the back. I went ahead of him to look back and found that he was wearing a Chicago Bears hat and a Cubs shirt.
He was with a whole crew of Chicagoans. I don't know why I didn't think to bring some sort of logo'd apparel with me. Something that would grab the attention of other Americans -- it would have been a great way to meet other people. I had a boss when I lived in Hollywood who always wore something with Florida State on it, be it a hat or a shirt. I thought this was a bit obsessive, especially when it was just for the office, but it made sense when he was out traveling. He said he met SO many other FSers and made new friends that way. Of course, wearing Goucher Gopher apparel would probably not do the same for me. But why didn't I at least bring my Cubs hat??The Palace seemed to be roped off for some sort of "lying in state" event (I don't know who was "lying in state") so I left and walked around the outside wall to Wat Pho, home of the giant reclining Boudha. I spent a lot of time being a photoblogger (which apparently is a terrible bad word according to a certain photographer friend of mine) and taking photos of the temples in the puddles ::GASP:: I know it's lame but it was fun. I noticed I wasn't the only one doing it, too.
Afterwards, I wandered back through the streets to my hotel. I noticed that even though I was walking through a market, and past vendors lining the sidewalks, they weren't yelling at me! "Miss! Miss! Madam! Madam! You like? You buy?" What a relief! You can't even let your eyes fall on something in India without the stall-owner/storekeeper instantly falling on you to make a deal.But I also noticed, later on, haggling is a whole 'nother beast in Thailand. Instead of in India where they name a price and you usually halve or tree-quarter it and start from there, Thais appear to instantly throw snippy fits and throw their hands up and walk away -- particularly with any sort of transportation worker. No haggling. They'd rather not make any money and walk away then lower their ridiculous asking prices. Indians take it in stride, rolling their eyes at your price, with a smile though, and, "Oh! You're killing me!" -- it's part of dance. Then you finally make a deal and the Indian shopkeeper often invites you for chai. Civilized! No hissy fits! I miss that.Spent the evening writing and wandering around Khao San Road and places nearby -- now that it was safe since all the Super Soakers were gone. Stopped in a pharmacy and weighed myself, but as I didn't know the kilogram to pound ratio, I had no idea what 50 kg meant.
I forgot to mention that on my first real day in Bangkok, I'd braved the Super Soaker Brigade and I'd had one of the most amazing meals of my life. A bacon, double cheese Whopper. BACON!
Friday - I relaxed and prepared for my first night-train up to Chiang Mai. Before leaving, however, I decided to take up my guesthouse's offer of foreign phonecalls for 10 baht a minute (which is about 30 cents or so). Pretty good. The woman who seems to run the guesthouse (and never has a smile on her face or anything but a grumble when you ask for change to use HER computers, thereby giving that money right back to her) dialed the number and started her stopwatch. I was calling home pretty early but I figured Mom would be up for work and Dad gets up early as well. BUT! I forgot it was Friday -- Mom's day off. Oops. It was great to hear their voices though -- haven't spoken to Dad since Easter and haven't talked to Mom at all. We spoke for about ten minutes and when I hung up, I'd gone 2 seconds into the next minute. The GH Woman demanded 110 baht. Now I realize it's ridiculous to argue over 30 cents. But this wasn't exactly a payphone! Here I've been staying at this guesthouse for several nights, paying to use the internet for hours, and she wasn't going to let two seconds slip by. I said, without raising my voice or getting fractious, "I don't think it's very considerate of you to charge me for an extra minute when I only went 2 seconds over." Instantly, she was snarling at me, "MY PHONE! MY HOTEL! YOU PAY OR YOU DON'T USE! MY PHONE! MY MONEY! YOU DON'T LIKE YOU LEAVE!!!" Wow. So much for "Land of Smiles." I was happy not to come back.
I grabbed a taxi after storing one of my bags and headed for the train station. I boarded the train and was instantly struck by the complete difference between Thai and Indian trains. Now, I realize at this point, I should stop comparing, but the night trains in India were a mixed bag. I had the horrible night stuck in 3rd class, and the reasonable nights of sleeping on the three-tiered cots, covered in dust. I also realize that I only paid 6 bucks for those tickets while the night train to Chiang-mai was around 26 bucks. But wow. It was air-conditioned and you sat at a table with another person until the conductor came around and made up your beds, one above and one below. Sheets, blankets, comfy foam mattress and fluffy soft pillow. I slept like a log. Arrived in Chiang Mai around 9:30 a.m. and was picked up by the Lodge I was staying at, BMP. Very nice lodge -- swimming pool!
I had a meeting with our trek guide that evening, but until then, I sat out by the pool. It was lovely. The meeting got started at 6. There were going to be 9 of us on the trek: 4 Irish boys (Colm, Colin, Dave and Ron), Robbie the young Brit, Lene and Kaspar from Denmark, Hanni the "European" and myself. We were due up and out by 9 and urged not to stay up too late. After the meeting, we all hung out in the BMP's restaurant before deciding to check out Chiang-Mai's Night Market. We walked into town and had a great dinner, the boys eyed some Chinese throwing stars, and then wandered back, but not before stopping at 7-11 for some "large Changs" and squid-flavored potato chips!
Colm offered to open my Chang, using a lighter, which ended in my Chang shattered on the sidewalk. He went back and got me another. Back at the guesthouse, we watched soccer (Man United vs... um... shoot, can't remember) for a bit before retiring -- the Irish boys being rabid football fans and all.Next morning, I wasn't feeling so hot. Tummy was absolutely terrible and the thought of trekking all day was not looking good. Nonetheless, I packed the small backpack I was given with the necessary items and headed downstairs after stowing the rest of my stuff away in storage. The backpack was pretty heavy with camera equipment and whatnot. All the boys seemed to have rather light packs. We climbed into a songthraew (a converted pick-up truck with benches and a roof) and headed out into the country. Tummy was feeling worse and worse. About 45 minutes later, we stopped at a market while Simon, our guide, picked up food supplies. I sought out a bathroom. This was going to be a long, long day.
Climbed back into the truck for another 45 minutes to the National Park where we were trekking.At first the trek was easy -- relatively flat land, although my feet were wet instantly due to trying to jump across streams and missing. Where was my balance? I didn't like my pack much though. It hung low on my back and was straining my shoulders. We stopped for lunch pretty quickly and a 20 minute rest. Then it got harder, more hills, not much shade -- the trees were remarkably bare. Stopped again by another stream. My back was really hurting now. The camera was weighing me down and I looked jealously at the Irish boys with their tiny packs. Then it got SO MUCH WORSE. I realize we were going to be staying with HILL tribes but i was not prepared for the hills we climbed. I was quickly the last person in the group. Simon lead and a young Thai boy who never spoke brought up the rear, making sure none of us got left behind. At one point I considered paying him to take some of my stuff, I was that exhausted. I remembered what Andy told me in India -- that sometimes when he was particularly exhausted, he'd play Commando or something and imagine he'd have to drag someone through the desert. I tried to buck up, imagine i was in the Marines or something. But every burst of energy flagged immediately, my legs wobbled, my back was killing me.
After one particularly hard-core uphill hike, we stopped at a lovely waterfall and I nearly keeled over. Simon told us there was only about a ten minute walk ahead of us before we were done for the night, but it was entire uphill. And by uphill, it was practically straight up. I wanted to cry. I told Simon that the bag he gave me's straps didn't work right. I couldn't tighten them to fit the pack closer to my upper back instead of hanging down just above my butt, thereby dragging me backwards. Simon took my pack, moved the stuff around inside, and then wrapped the straps around it. He handed it back to me and it was much MUCH better. Still too heavy, but at least not breaking my back.
We got up and started the last daunting length. I tried to keep up my momentum but almost immediately was the last person again. I stopped for breath every couple of feet. I so wanted to dramatically fall to the ground and groan to everyone, "go on without me!" When we reached the top, I could have flung myself down and stayed there all night. We walked a few more minutes to a small group of houses on stilts. I couldn't' believe we made it.
We were invited to use showers and eat lychee fruit from the trees while dinner was prepared. I think all of us were too stupefied to move. Beer was offered, but no one was drinking it. We were all zombies. Dinner was served and we wolfed it down. It was still early, so I got out my iPod and speakers and we sat around chatting. I was playing my "R&R Thailand" playlist that David made me. Mostly, my fellow trekkers didn't know the songs on it although the Irish lads were familiar with Flight of the Conchords "Most Beautiful Girl in the Room." As we sat and talked, Peter Bjorn and John's "Young Folks" started playing and I noticed the Irish boys bobbing their heads and whistling along. Ah! They know this one, I thought. Then one of them turned to others and said, "Which advert is this again?" "Budweiser," answered another. And they continued whistling along. I thought this was pretty funny because I am familiar with this commercial although it has never aired in America because a friend of mine, Brian Floyd, is in it. We crashed pretty early on-- we were given a large barn-like structure to sleep in where they'd laid out lots of futons under mosquito netting. I slept pretty well except for the two animals which sounded like they were trying to kill each other just outside.
Day 2 of Trek
I was surprised I wasn't totally exhausted the next morning but I was not looking forward to the long haul ahead of us. We only had a little more uphill walking to do, fortunately. Not far from where we started, Simon stopped the group and picked up a long piece of grass. He poked it gingerly in a large hole on the side of the path. He poked and poked and eventually, and I can only imagine quite irritably, a HUGE tarantula emerged. It stood with its front legs raised and struck viciously at the piece of grass as Simon poked and prodded it. As is my habit of anthropormorphizing everything, in my head the tarantula was saying, "Really? I mean, really? Every Tuesday, Simon! Can I just have a break for once? Can't you go bug Louise... she's just a few holes down, for crying out loud. ::sigh:: All right, here. Grr. (raises legs, attacks half-heartedly) Okay, can I go back to tea now? Thanks. See you next week."
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Finally we headed downhill where we got the chance to Tarzan our way across a stream by holding a vine and later came across a farmer who was roasting a lovely stretch of cow hide across a fire -- with the cows head in the fire itself. Mmmm, lunch.
Lunch actually took place at Simon's mom and dad's place. While Simon cooked a delicious and simple noodle and broth soup, we lay about and rested. We were absolutely filthy.
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Simon's grandmother stopped by and sold us some necklaces and allowed me to take her picture. She had amazing earlobes that, unadorned, hung nearly to her shoulders.
Most of my fellow trekkers took short naps but I couldn't, instead took some shots around the hut -- i love that even many of the simplest of homes have satellite television.
Finally we roused ourselves to hike for the first of two waterfalls. The boys played with a half-filled volleyball. I waded in but it was a lot colder than I expected. We didn't stay long.
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We trekked for a bit longer, at one point walking along a very narrow spit of land with quite a fall on one side. My legs were starting to shake again. We crossed through an area where the ground burned. There are two types of farming methods for two types of rice - rice paddies for white rice and dry ground for brown rice. In order to clear ground for the brown rice, farmers tend to slash and burn -- which the government frowns upon, but no one wants to take the livelihood of the hill tribes from them. They alternate where they grow crops, but still you can see jets of smoke coming from all over the landscape. It's a bit strange to be walking through a forest that's half on fire. I don't know how they keep it under control.
We reached a shallow stream. Simon crossed a log first then lifted a thin bamboo rod across by supporting it on a forked branch. I guess this was supposed to be a railing. I was last to cross and I knew I wasn't going to make it - not with my legs as jello-y as they were. I took one step out, then another, and my legs went... I grappled for the "railing" but it was not supportive whatsoever and I fell. It was shallow, but nonetheless, the rocks were slippery and I couldn't keep my balance and fell all the way in. Luckily, I saved my camera, thrusting it into the air, at the expense of my elbow, which took my weight on the log. I was mightily embarassed.
As we returned to that narrow spit of land to continue the hike, I again slipped. My legs were a mess. I sat down heavily and wanted to cry. Where was my energy? The group was far ahead of me now and I felt like a bit of a failure. This shouldn't have been a difficult trek.
I wandered into the Grand Palace where Wat Phra Kaew houses the Emerald Boudha, and almost instantly the skies opened. Along with a hundred other people, I took shelter under a nearby pagoda typed porch. The rain was incredibly heavy. But it did afford me un-touristed shots of the beautiful golden domed temple in front of me. At one point, a young woman (Chinese possibly?) braved the rain and ran to the steps in front of the temple to have her picture taken. Everyone under the roof hooted, clapped, laughed and cheered for her. As the rain started to peter off -- and by peter off, I mean slightly less heavy than the BUCKETS it was raining when it started-- I handed over my camera to the girls next to me and high-tailed it through the puddles and up the steps. I was also cheered on, particularly when I struck a rather dramatic pose -- they laughed and laughed and clapped harder.
I noticed, after the rain stopped and everyone headed out again, that most of the Asian women around me (and particularly Thai women) seem to not be into comfortable shoes. They were almost all in some sort of heels. Even flipflops had heels. Wat_______ was beautiful. At one point, I found myself walking behind a young man in a navy blue baseball hat that had the NFL logo on the back. I went ahead of him to look back and found that he was wearing a Chicago Bears hat and a Cubs shirt.
He was with a whole crew of Chicagoans. I don't know why I didn't think to bring some sort of logo'd apparel with me. Something that would grab the attention of other Americans -- it would have been a great way to meet other people. I had a boss when I lived in Hollywood who always wore something with Florida State on it, be it a hat or a shirt. I thought this was a bit obsessive, especially when it was just for the office, but it made sense when he was out traveling. He said he met SO many other FSers and made new friends that way. Of course, wearing Goucher Gopher apparel would probably not do the same for me. But why didn't I at least bring my Cubs hat??The Palace seemed to be roped off for some sort of "lying in state" event (I don't know who was "lying in state") so I left and walked around the outside wall to Wat Pho, home of the giant reclining Boudha. I spent a lot of time being a photoblogger (which apparently is a terrible bad word according to a certain photographer friend of mine) and taking photos of the temples in the puddles ::GASP:: I know it's lame but it was fun. I noticed I wasn't the only one doing it, too.
Afterwards, I wandered back through the streets to my hotel. I noticed that even though I was walking through a market, and past vendors lining the sidewalks, they weren't yelling at me! "Miss! Miss! Madam! Madam! You like? You buy?" What a relief! You can't even let your eyes fall on something in India without the stall-owner/storekeeper instantly falling on you to make a deal.But I also noticed, later on, haggling is a whole 'nother beast in Thailand. Instead of in India where they name a price and you usually halve or tree-quarter it and start from there, Thais appear to instantly throw snippy fits and throw their hands up and walk away -- particularly with any sort of transportation worker. No haggling. They'd rather not make any money and walk away then lower their ridiculous asking prices. Indians take it in stride, rolling their eyes at your price, with a smile though, and, "Oh! You're killing me!" -- it's part of dance. Then you finally make a deal and the Indian shopkeeper often invites you for chai. Civilized! No hissy fits! I miss that.Spent the evening writing and wandering around Khao San Road and places nearby -- now that it was safe since all the Super Soakers were gone. Stopped in a pharmacy and weighed myself, but as I didn't know the kilogram to pound ratio, I had no idea what 50 kg meant.
I forgot to mention that on my first real day in Bangkok, I'd braved the Super Soaker Brigade and I'd had one of the most amazing meals of my life. A bacon, double cheese Whopper. BACON!
Friday - I relaxed and prepared for my first night-train up to Chiang Mai. Before leaving, however, I decided to take up my guesthouse's offer of foreign phonecalls for 10 baht a minute (which is about 30 cents or so). Pretty good. The woman who seems to run the guesthouse (and never has a smile on her face or anything but a grumble when you ask for change to use HER computers, thereby giving that money right back to her) dialed the number and started her stopwatch. I was calling home pretty early but I figured Mom would be up for work and Dad gets up early as well. BUT! I forgot it was Friday -- Mom's day off. Oops. It was great to hear their voices though -- haven't spoken to Dad since Easter and haven't talked to Mom at all. We spoke for about ten minutes and when I hung up, I'd gone 2 seconds into the next minute. The GH Woman demanded 110 baht. Now I realize it's ridiculous to argue over 30 cents. But this wasn't exactly a payphone! Here I've been staying at this guesthouse for several nights, paying to use the internet for hours, and she wasn't going to let two seconds slip by. I said, without raising my voice or getting fractious, "I don't think it's very considerate of you to charge me for an extra minute when I only went 2 seconds over." Instantly, she was snarling at me, "MY PHONE! MY HOTEL! YOU PAY OR YOU DON'T USE! MY PHONE! MY MONEY! YOU DON'T LIKE YOU LEAVE!!!" Wow. So much for "Land of Smiles." I was happy not to come back.
I grabbed a taxi after storing one of my bags and headed for the train station. I boarded the train and was instantly struck by the complete difference between Thai and Indian trains. Now, I realize at this point, I should stop comparing, but the night trains in India were a mixed bag. I had the horrible night stuck in 3rd class, and the reasonable nights of sleeping on the three-tiered cots, covered in dust. I also realize that I only paid 6 bucks for those tickets while the night train to Chiang-mai was around 26 bucks. But wow. It was air-conditioned and you sat at a table with another person until the conductor came around and made up your beds, one above and one below. Sheets, blankets, comfy foam mattress and fluffy soft pillow. I slept like a log. Arrived in Chiang Mai around 9:30 a.m. and was picked up by the Lodge I was staying at, BMP. Very nice lodge -- swimming pool!
I had a meeting with our trek guide that evening, but until then, I sat out by the pool. It was lovely. The meeting got started at 6. There were going to be 9 of us on the trek: 4 Irish boys (Colm, Colin, Dave and Ron), Robbie the young Brit, Lene and Kaspar from Denmark, Hanni the "European" and myself. We were due up and out by 9 and urged not to stay up too late. After the meeting, we all hung out in the BMP's restaurant before deciding to check out Chiang-Mai's Night Market. We walked into town and had a great dinner, the boys eyed some Chinese throwing stars, and then wandered back, but not before stopping at 7-11 for some "large Changs" and squid-flavored potato chips!
Colm offered to open my Chang, using a lighter, which ended in my Chang shattered on the sidewalk. He went back and got me another. Back at the guesthouse, we watched soccer (Man United vs... um... shoot, can't remember) for a bit before retiring -- the Irish boys being rabid football fans and all.Next morning, I wasn't feeling so hot. Tummy was absolutely terrible and the thought of trekking all day was not looking good. Nonetheless, I packed the small backpack I was given with the necessary items and headed downstairs after stowing the rest of my stuff away in storage. The backpack was pretty heavy with camera equipment and whatnot. All the boys seemed to have rather light packs. We climbed into a songthraew (a converted pick-up truck with benches and a roof) and headed out into the country. Tummy was feeling worse and worse. About 45 minutes later, we stopped at a market while Simon, our guide, picked up food supplies. I sought out a bathroom. This was going to be a long, long day.
Climbed back into the truck for another 45 minutes to the National Park where we were trekking.At first the trek was easy -- relatively flat land, although my feet were wet instantly due to trying to jump across streams and missing. Where was my balance? I didn't like my pack much though. It hung low on my back and was straining my shoulders. We stopped for lunch pretty quickly and a 20 minute rest. Then it got harder, more hills, not much shade -- the trees were remarkably bare. Stopped again by another stream. My back was really hurting now. The camera was weighing me down and I looked jealously at the Irish boys with their tiny packs. Then it got SO MUCH WORSE. I realize we were going to be staying with HILL tribes but i was not prepared for the hills we climbed. I was quickly the last person in the group. Simon lead and a young Thai boy who never spoke brought up the rear, making sure none of us got left behind. At one point I considered paying him to take some of my stuff, I was that exhausted. I remembered what Andy told me in India -- that sometimes when he was particularly exhausted, he'd play Commando or something and imagine he'd have to drag someone through the desert. I tried to buck up, imagine i was in the Marines or something. But every burst of energy flagged immediately, my legs wobbled, my back was killing me.
After one particularly hard-core uphill hike, we stopped at a lovely waterfall and I nearly keeled over. Simon told us there was only about a ten minute walk ahead of us before we were done for the night, but it was entire uphill. And by uphill, it was practically straight up. I wanted to cry. I told Simon that the bag he gave me's straps didn't work right. I couldn't tighten them to fit the pack closer to my upper back instead of hanging down just above my butt, thereby dragging me backwards. Simon took my pack, moved the stuff around inside, and then wrapped the straps around it. He handed it back to me and it was much MUCH better. Still too heavy, but at least not breaking my back.
We got up and started the last daunting length. I tried to keep up my momentum but almost immediately was the last person again. I stopped for breath every couple of feet. I so wanted to dramatically fall to the ground and groan to everyone, "go on without me!" When we reached the top, I could have flung myself down and stayed there all night. We walked a few more minutes to a small group of houses on stilts. I couldn't' believe we made it.
We were invited to use showers and eat lychee fruit from the trees while dinner was prepared. I think all of us were too stupefied to move. Beer was offered, but no one was drinking it. We were all zombies. Dinner was served and we wolfed it down. It was still early, so I got out my iPod and speakers and we sat around chatting. I was playing my "R&R Thailand" playlist that David made me. Mostly, my fellow trekkers didn't know the songs on it although the Irish lads were familiar with Flight of the Conchords "Most Beautiful Girl in the Room." As we sat and talked, Peter Bjorn and John's "Young Folks" started playing and I noticed the Irish boys bobbing their heads and whistling along. Ah! They know this one, I thought. Then one of them turned to others and said, "Which advert is this again?" "Budweiser," answered another. And they continued whistling along. I thought this was pretty funny because I am familiar with this commercial although it has never aired in America because a friend of mine, Brian Floyd, is in it. We crashed pretty early on-- we were given a large barn-like structure to sleep in where they'd laid out lots of futons under mosquito netting. I slept pretty well except for the two animals which sounded like they were trying to kill each other just outside.
Day 2 of Trek
I was surprised I wasn't totally exhausted the next morning but I was not looking forward to the long haul ahead of us. We only had a little more uphill walking to do, fortunately. Not far from where we started, Simon stopped the group and picked up a long piece of grass. He poked it gingerly in a large hole on the side of the path. He poked and poked and eventually, and I can only imagine quite irritably, a HUGE tarantula emerged. It stood with its front legs raised and struck viciously at the piece of grass as Simon poked and prodded it. As is my habit of anthropormorphizing everything, in my head the tarantula was saying, "Really? I mean, really? Every Tuesday, Simon! Can I just have a break for once? Can't you go bug Louise... she's just a few holes down, for crying out loud. ::sigh:: All right, here. Grr. (raises legs, attacks half-heartedly) Okay, can I go back to tea now? Thanks. See you next week."
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Finally we headed downhill where we got the chance to Tarzan our way across a stream by holding a vine and later came across a farmer who was roasting a lovely stretch of cow hide across a fire -- with the cows head in the fire itself. Mmmm, lunch.
Lunch actually took place at Simon's mom and dad's place. While Simon cooked a delicious and simple noodle and broth soup, we lay about and rested. We were absolutely filthy.
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Simon's grandmother stopped by and sold us some necklaces and allowed me to take her picture. She had amazing earlobes that, unadorned, hung nearly to her shoulders.
Most of my fellow trekkers took short naps but I couldn't, instead took some shots around the hut -- i love that even many of the simplest of homes have satellite television.
Finally we roused ourselves to hike for the first of two waterfalls. The boys played with a half-filled volleyball. I waded in but it was a lot colder than I expected. We didn't stay long.
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We trekked for a bit longer, at one point walking along a very narrow spit of land with quite a fall on one side. My legs were starting to shake again. We crossed through an area where the ground burned. There are two types of farming methods for two types of rice - rice paddies for white rice and dry ground for brown rice. In order to clear ground for the brown rice, farmers tend to slash and burn -- which the government frowns upon, but no one wants to take the livelihood of the hill tribes from them. They alternate where they grow crops, but still you can see jets of smoke coming from all over the landscape. It's a bit strange to be walking through a forest that's half on fire. I don't know how they keep it under control.
We reached a shallow stream. Simon crossed a log first then lifted a thin bamboo rod across by supporting it on a forked branch. I guess this was supposed to be a railing. I was last to cross and I knew I wasn't going to make it - not with my legs as jello-y as they were. I took one step out, then another, and my legs went... I grappled for the "railing" but it was not supportive whatsoever and I fell. It was shallow, but nonetheless, the rocks were slippery and I couldn't keep my balance and fell all the way in. Luckily, I saved my camera, thrusting it into the air, at the expense of my elbow, which took my weight on the log. I was mightily embarassed.
As we returned to that narrow spit of land to continue the hike, I again slipped. My legs were a mess. I sat down heavily and wanted to cry. Where was my energy? The group was far ahead of me now and I felt like a bit of a failure. This shouldn't have been a difficult trek.
Finally we reached the second waterfall, which was also where we were staying for the evening. I put my stuff in a bungalow and noticed that there was a sign on the door that read, "Boum boum, no knock." Simon and his mother were lingering nearby and I asked him what it meant (although I had a fair idea). He grew flustered and his mother said something in Thai. Simon said, "It means, 'Loud noises.'" Uh huh.
We relaxed while Simon and his family prepared dinner. There was a chicken in an overturned basket when we arrived. I noticed the basket was empty a bit later and that chicken was on the menu. I will now forever refer to those cages as the Baskets of Doom.
The second waterfall is apparently the waterfall used in the movie, "The Beach" (where it was digitally enhanced by height and also had more water forced over it).
It's beautiful but also a little cold so I contented myself by watching the puppies that were scampering about and playing. Then I went to arrange my stuff in my thatch hut and as I sat in the doorway, I saw a HUGE wolf spider on the door. I enlisted the help of a couple of boys to bat it from the door (insisting they not kill it) but everytime they swung at it, it would scurry to the other side of the door and I'd squeal. Not my finest hour* I admit.
Dinner was served - I guess that might be the freshest chicken I've ever had. And then the beer started flowing.
I lamented my lack of strength during the walk and it occurred to me to ask if anyone knew the pound to kilogram ratio. One of the Irish boys broke out his guide book which listed that it was 1 kg = 2.2 lbs. I'd lost 10 pounds since leaving the states. That explained a lot. Also considering the 6 weeks of bad tummy, I thought it might be prudent to see a doctor when I got back to Bangkok. I broke out the music again and a fine time was had by all -- which included a late night dip under the waterfall. The full moon lit up the sky like daylight. The next day was going to be much easier so we made the most of the night.
Day Three
Up early for breakfast and a shower under the waterfall - brrr.
The trek back to the truck was pretty easy (although we again walked through burning fields) and my strength kept up.
The next adventure was an elephant ride. We stopped for a bit of lunch and arrived at the Elephant trekking area. We paired up, I was with Robbie from UK. We exchanged cameras with the Danes, Lene and Kasper. Apparently the elephants are big fans of bananas so we purchased a bunch (or 3) before climbing the platform. We were told to keep the bananas from the elephants' view but after Robbie climbed onto our elephant, I gracelessly dropped the bananas from the bag we'd hidden in them and another elephant, with lightning-quick speed, grabbed them with his trunk.
I tried to wrestle them away but to no avail. Luckily, Robbie had another bunch but we were out of those before we even exited the yard. Those elephants are greedy! They'd take 3 or 4 steps and their trunk would snap back at us, demanding a banana. It was like a toll or gas or something. There was a banana stand just outside the yard, before the trail, where we bought more. Again, these quickly ran out and the mahout would have to poke at the elephant's trunk to keep it from demanding fruit every 15 seconds.
I'm not so sure about this elephant ride activity. I don't think the elephants are treated very nicely and the mahouts were certainly bored out of their minds. Because it was no longer being paid its toll, the elephant had a charming new tactic of expressing its frustration with us. Every 30 seconds or so, its ears would stop flapping, it would thrust its trunk into its mouth and then whip it back at us and spray us with elephant snot/saliva!! Robbie and I started to know when to duck for cover, but we were already covered in it. The mahout assured us that the elephant was only trying to "keep cool" -- but, funny how the snot-spray stopped when we purchased another bunch of bananas at the next stand. Jerk.
Midway during the trek, the mahouts guided the elephants over to some large tubs of water. I knew then that we were in for some trouble.
I did my best to shield my camera and bag as the elephant took giant gulps and sprayed himself repeatedly -- drenching Robbie and me. One of the mahouts jumped into the tubs as well and swam around, mingling with the trunks. I was shocked at how strong the elephants trunks are and how dexterous the tip is at grabbing and holding.
As we continued, the Mahout invited me to sit out on the neck of the elephant with him. This was a very strange sensation -- I was not used to holding on with my thighs and his hairy, coarse, thick skin felt weird on my legs. It was also pretty precarious; I was certain I was going to flop off at any moment. We ran out of bananas again and the spit/mucus started spraying. At this point, I was just one big glob of elephant snot. Delicious.
We made it back and continued on to our next destination: river rafting. There were 4 to a raft. At the front was our guide with a long bamboo pole, then two people sat in the middle and one of us would stand at the back with a second pole. The raft consisted of about 6 thick bamboo poles, about 15 feet long, roped together -- and that's it. I was on a raft with Robbie and Colm. Robbie took the back and Colm and I enjoyed the ride in the middle. Our guide was hilarious. When we'd approach rapids, or get a little too close to an outcropping of rock, he'd squeal in a high pitch (and what I think was supposed to be an American accent), "Oh my Buddha!!!"
We got into a race with the other backpackers/guides. Robbie was pretty good for most of the ride until we came too close to the bank and he stuck his pole into a rock to push us away -- which he did.... except his pole stayed stuck in the rock and nearly took him with it. Now we were rudderless and the "Oh my Buddha's" really picked up.
One of the other rafts was piloted by a girl who couldn't have been more than 14 and she was ruthless, whenever we'd get close, she'd smack her pole in the water, spraying us. We'd splash back. Also, along the way, the riverbanks were lined with picnicking Thais. There were little platforms with roofs where the families would sit, legs dangling in the water eating and drinking. Emphasis on the drinking. I noticed there were restaurants on the other side of the river, some with wires across the river. It looked like you could order food and it would swing down the wire to you. The families would splash and splash us as we passed and we'd splash them right back. Apparently they were yelling at the Irish boys, "Monkey men! Monkey men!" due to their slightly furry-ness. But when the Danes went by, the Thais would go quiet. We think it had something to do with Lene's gold bikini. So much fun!
It was sad when it was over.
It was about a 2 hour drive back and we were exhausted. After a quick dinner, I fell into bed for about 14 hours!
*But I would redeem myself in a BIG BIG way Vietnam, so it's okay.
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