My aim was to get all the way from Malaysia to one of the west coast islands of Thailand that same day. The port of Krabi is a small town that serves as the gateway to the islands of Ko Phi Phi and Ko Lanta. Despite the painfully early start, the combination of lots of km, 3 different buses and a border crossing meant that I did not arrive in Krabi until 14:15. It did not take me long to discern that the last ferry left at 14:30 and I scurried off to buy a ticket. The bloke selling the ticket seemed to take forever but kept assuring me that things would be okay despite clearly conflicting information coming from the big clock right in front of him on his very desk. I left the agent and sprinted (backpack: 25 kg; air temp: 35 degrees; humidity: 95%) down to the bemused officials by the boat, arriving at about 14:45. However, their bemusement arose not from a long-gone boat but from surprise that anyone would have thought the boat would have left remotely on time. Indeed it was nearer to 15:30 before we pushed off, during which time at least a dozen fellow passengers had strolled onboard without the slightest hint of urgency. I knew I was going to like Thailand.
The ferry took me over to Ko Phi Phi, an idyllic island that shot to fame when it was used to film scenes from "The Beach". Alas, this fact has been seriously over-exploited as the Thais are not slow to realise when they're onto a good thing. Room prices are higher here than anywhere in the country (though still reasonable) and the village-centre is awash with hundreds of diving shops. The beach itself does not quite live up to expectations [too many people / boats] and no beach is at its best in the middle of a thunderstorm, for God had clearly remembered my existence again.
I succumbed to one of the diving touts after consultation with my Rough Guide and booked myself a double dive on a boat the next day. Ko Phi Phi [pronounced Pee Pee] is not short of the odd bar so, feeling bored and lonely, I plucked up the courage to wander into one and see if I could find someone interesting to talk to. This ambition soon proved tough but I somehow found myself in a cocktail-downing competition with a large Welsh bloke. Wales took a predictable early lead but the extra bulk proved no match for England's recent training on the Oz Experience, and two hours later amidst much slurred protesting, his girlfriend threw in the towel for him. I did my best not to show my immense relief, since I was not exactly faring much better, and went to bed.
Looking up at the moon from a beachside bar. That fringe looks somewhat familiar.
The boat picked me and my hangover up the following morning and we motored out a few km to some smaller uninhabited islands to get away from the masses. The water in the Andaman Sea is noticeably clearer than in the Barrier Reef and visibility was an impressive 15m+. The underwater highlights included some rare-ish sea horses and several striped sea snakes - one of which rather disconcertingly decided to check out my mask at a closer range than I would have preferred! We were not particularly deep so ended up being underwater for over an hour - we may have been diving but time was certainly flying.
Much of the diving was done near fantastic little coves like this. Those rocks continue down into the water and often have a nice overhang to dive underneath.
The trip ended in the early afternoon and I decided that the next island, Ko Lanta, seemed a better prospect than Ko Phi Phi and just made it to the afternoon inter-island ferry. After about an hour of the journey, the boat stopped in the middle of the sea. After we had been motionless for some 15 minutes I began to get curious and wandered onto deck. It transpired that rather than have lots of ferries covering all the various permutations from one island to another, they simply meet in the middle of the sea and transfer passengers who are doing the journey for which there is no ferry. Marvellously efficient although the petty bureaucrats at our good old Department of Health and Safety might have more than a few bits of paper to push around were this to happen back home.
Ko Lanta is definitely less ruined than Phi Phi and contains some fabulous long palm-lined strips of beach. Along these beaches there are many small independent bars and several beach-cabin style guesthouses. It would be incredibly easy to be fabulously lazy in a place like this. The only exertions in the day become the 50m trip from cabin to beach and the 10m one from beach to restaurant/bar, but I was short of time, and even I can get bored with lying on a beach fairly quickly, especially when on my own. However, the end of the day is the best part. Ko Lanta is long and thin and lies roughly north-south meaning that the western side is treated to some more spectacular sunsets.
Sunset.
Going, going...
After (yet) another fantastic dinner - the Thai food is even better than the Malay food and equally reasonable - I found that I was again being drawn into a bar. Funny how that seems to happen so often. There was a distinct improvement in the excitement value of the clientele here, for though Ryan Giggs is a fine footballer I find it unlikely that any Welshman will ever be voted the best footballer in the world:
I was surprised to find that Ronaldo in fact resides in Tel Aviv (must be a long commute to Madrid each day), speaks near perfect English (he must be bluffing in those interviews) and is surprisingly small. It was also very nice of Real to let him go drinking in Thailand when there was a Champion's League match within a week though he appears to be on the soft drinks at this stage.
Gratuitous shot of some palms to increase jealousy levels.
The beach wasn't too bad either...
I decided to spend the next day having one last lazy day before ending my trip with a flurry of activity. There are few better ways to begin the evening than lying on the beach supported by regally comfortable cushions, with a cocktail in hand and watching the sun set over the sea.
Sunset the next day was even better...
...bringing with it some simply wonderful red...
...topped off with some deep purple. [sorry, am getting bored writing.]
The first part of this activity plan involved getting myself a short way along the coast to a trio of resorts known as the Railay beaches. This is in the region with the crazy limestone cliffs and stacks that Thailand is renowned for, and which are often used by Hollywood for the bad guys when the hollowed-out volcanoes are fully booked. My reason for seeking out this area was to finally get round to having a few rock-climbing lessons - something I've been meaning to do for at least 10 years.
Another beauty of the place I was in was that despite being on the mainland, it is only reachable by boat - the cliffs see to that. Unfortunately the only boats doing the trip are the famous Thai longtail boats (the ones where the propeller is on the end of a long shaft connected to the motor and the driver steers the boat by rotating the whole assembly). These boats look fairly primitive and, rather like a cheap hire-car, move at a rate totally disproportionate to the amount of noise they make. However, it is worth the deafening as the place is idyllic and not too crowded.
The view from my breakfast table [breakfast being a massive plate of freshly chopped pineapple, mango and paw paw - 30p].
There were several small shops offering climbing introduction days with all kit supplied and I went with one that had been recommended to me by someone in Malaysia. This being Thailand, it was all very unregulated and unofficial - just the way I prefer things. We spent a short time doing the basic theory of belaying, abseiling and knots etc. then trekked off to find some good rock faces. These aren't in short supply and there are over 200 routes in the region already set up with the bolts driven into the rocks. There were just three of us in the group - myself, a Thai bloke and a German instructor.
We started off on some fairly trivial climbs - I don't know if the system in use there is a world standard one but it was something like a 5A in his book and I reckon I've climbed tougher stuff unroped on various walks. God knows what a 1A would be like! Anyway, we were soon progressing to some tougher ones and after lunch we moved to a harder region, which was obviously still trivial in the grand scheme of things but looked nigh on impossible to my novice eyes. I had been enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of this supposed lesson but it might be going a little far when one's instructor finds a particularly evil piece of wall and bets his pupil a pitcher of beer that he can't get to the top. [I think it was a 6C in his little book - they certainly get harder very quickly!] Unfortunately, as a sufferer of acute competitivitis, declining was out of the question.
This was the most excellent wall where many of the climbing routes were, as viewed from the bay.
And slightly closer up. You can see the belaying people from the small white dot halfway up on the left.
Zoomed in on the same wall. Impeccable technique, as ever! [I think this was fairly early on - my battery died before I could get a shot of the really tricky ones.]
I know it is possible, but I find it very difficult to see how one can climb any sections steeper than vertical (i.e. overhanging) without relying on upper-body strength [anyone who'd like to show me how to do this, please do]. Luckily, rowing has left me with pretty decent upper-body strength and, despite all the recent beer, I still don't weigh much so I was able to grit my teeth and just about haul myself up with determination and chin-ups making up for total lack of technical ability. I had a couple of 'moments' where it felt like my arms were giving out, but with the knowledge that there was someone on the ground watching me and ready to take my weight if I slipped, I maintained confidence and eventually got to the top.
Feeling rather pleased with myself, I now decided to look down at the Thai bloke on the other end of the line only to see something quite astounding. The belaying person almost literally has your life in his hands, as we had been reminded dozens of times, but if he's concentrating and doing it right (it's really quite simple) then everything is OK. The key word in that sentence is "concentrating". Now, spend a moment and think of an activity that is both famous for reducing one's ability to concentrate and for being readily available in Thailand. Yup, you guessed it: there was the man with my life in his hands puffing away on a joint the size of a small carrot! Only in Thailand...
Alas, this did more to destroy my confidence than any piece of limestone ever could and coupled with the lead-like feeling now residing in my arms, I called it a day there and retreated to the somewhat reduced dangers of the beach.
The second part of my activities plan was to book myself onto a live-aboard scuba diving trip to the Similan Islands. These trips involve actually living on board the boat and spending the day diving in the islands, which are uninhabited and, at over 60km west fom the coast, relatively unspoilt. As this was my last bit of excitement and Thailand was proving fairly light on the pocket, I splashed out for an upmarket boat which provided air-conditioning, just two to a cabin and came with all food etc. provided by the onboard team of chef, assistant chef and two general crew. Not bad for just twelve guests and four dive masters.
As we were about to set off, a series of loud explosions began emanating from the foredeck, coupled with flashes and large clouds of smoke. Now, I've had some pretty bizarre experiences in the likes of Bolivia, Railay etc. so I am no longer so easily startled but I would have to question whether setting off large quantities of explosives on board a motor vessel fuelled up with 3 days worth of petrol is really going to bring about good luck. Anyway, we managed to avoid dragging Thailand unexpectedly into the nuclear age and set sail from the tiny port of Kao Lak.
Whilst I try to think of myself as relatively non-money-obsessed, this was a fairly good advertisement for the advantages of working in the City after all [though should I say having worked, given that working in the City would never allow one the freedom to doss around in Thailand for any length of time?]. A delicious lunch was enjoyed lying on the sun loungers on the top deck whilst soaking up the rays and admiring the crystal clear waters we were about to enter.
That water was as crystal clear as it looks here. And only about 30 degrees warm as well...
The dives themselves completely proved the worth of getting away from the coast, for the visibility was unlike anything I have ever seen before. Visibility is not an easy thing to judge but I would estimate it was approximately 50m, certainly comparable to any swimming pool I've ever been in. This led to some amazing colours, especially coupled with the fabulous weather. The marine life did not disappoint either, with lots of lionfish, triggerfish, stingrays, scorpionfish, crayfish, moray eels and many others that I cannot remember the name of. Our divemasters were pretty knowledgable and had a bewildering and frankly comical set of underwater signals for much of the wildlife. Laughing underwater is a very strange experience, I assure you. Once back aboard, the boat had a library of marine info so I was able to identify many of the stranger creatures. Alas, I don't have any pictures so I cannot share the memories with you.
The package included a night dive which was a first for me and a marvellous experience. Though often scorned by experienced divers since you cannot see as much, I found that you just had to look a bit harder. In addition, the whole experience of floating weightless and in the dark enabled me to almost believe I was fulfilling my childhood (and let's face it, adult-hood) fantasy of being an astronaut. Another weird and wonderful effect was the phenomenon of phosphorescence. Although well documented, it still has to be seen to be believed. You simply wave your arms around rapidly and a series of spark-like flashes appear in the wake. I almost missed the first part of the dive as I was so absorbed in this!
Night brought the tough decision of whether to take the nice air-con cabin and bed or the beauty of the stars and a hammock. A sort of battle between the attractions of the sciences or the arts was a thought that occurred to me. It was no contest really, as I was imminently returning to the permanent air-conditioning that is the English outdoors. However, the arts v science battle was in the end resolved by the loud snoring coming from a neighbouring hammock and I had to withdraw to my cabin. [Perhaps a victory for the humanities?]
Owing to the limits on how much and how often the body can take the effects of breathing highly pressurised air, we had a fair bit of spare time between the dives the next day, and what better way to spend it than exploring some of the gorgeous and uninhabited islands themselves.
Our boat was the middle of the three white ones. I wish I was still this tanned.
Sadly, it was all over too soon and when you are doing many, many dives you start to become less impressed. "Oh my God! Wow! Look, it's a turtle/reef shark/octopus etc!" soon becomes "Right, yes, another turtle/reef shark/octopus etc." I don't know whether our dive masers knew where to take us or whether we were just lucky, but just as interest was starting to wane, the most amazing fish decided to turn up.
Picture a black double duvet laid out on the floor. Now picture 4 of them stitched together in a giant square 4m across. Imagine this thing floating underwater and drifting along right in front of you. This is certainly my impression of the giant Manta Ray that swam past us. It also had two large bumps on the top where its eyes are, leaving it also faintly reminiscent of a stealth bomber. I am not exaggerating here - apparently they can grow up to 6m across. It was unbelievable.
The final part of the action plan took in a day hiking in the Kao Sok jungle. I can safely say that this does not make the top 10 of my walking experiences. First of all it was hot, sunny and very, very humid. Then it became hot, rainy and very, very, very humid. The somewhat muddy path also became very slippery and I unwillingly took the quick route down some steep and rocky bits on more than one occasion. Just to cap it off, the "wonderful lagoon and waterfall" at the end of the path was distinctly unimpressive. When I returned to the park entrance I was feeling tired, mildly irritated and distinctly bored. Luckily, there was somewhere where I could change out of my soaking and filthy kit into some fresh stuff for the overnight train to Bangkok. But the park had one more sting in the tail. As I removed my boots I discovered no less than 7 leeches, in varying states of sated-ness, attached to my feet. They had presumably hopped onto my shoes and burrowed through my socks. After a few seconds digesting this news, I fished out my lighter only to find that the rain had won that little battle. Despite immense temptation, I knew that one shoudn't tear them off, so I resorted to pouring anything I could dig out onto them. Most of them weren't desperately enamoured by suncream or Powerade and hopped off, but the remaining hardy couple were definitely unimpressed by their brandy shower and also jumped. Little did they know that my blood back then probably had a higher alcohol concentration anyway. At least I felt like a proper jungle-trekker now. Alas, my camera doesn't like the rain so I have no photos for the bloodthirsty among you.
Early on, hiking along the river before the tropical rain [and leeches]
The last couple of days were to be spent in Bangkok - another hot, sprawling and overcrowded metropolis. It is Thailand's only large city and the population is a staggering 20 times that of the next largest place. I spent the day going round the standard tourist sights, of which there are many. The most impressive was definitely the Grand Palace. This is a massive complex containing a variety of buildings - some religious, some ornamental and some plain grand. As it is an important religious site, anyone wearing shorts is forced to hire long trousers whcih tend to be of rather dubious design! It quickly becomes very easy to spot who else had turned up unprepared!
A small selection of the many impressive parts of the Grand Palace. Ooh, I miss those trousers.
Other tourist highlights include the golden buddha which does exactly what it says on the tin, but weighing in at something over 5 tonnes, is quite an impressive piece of gold. Even more exciting is its history, for it was originally thought to be a solid piece of masonry until some of the stone chipped off revealing the solid gold interior. Apparently, cladding gold buddhas in masonry was often done in times of security crises to prevent looting and this one was one where they had forgotten to undo the process. After this discovery one doesn't want to contemplate the number of beautiful bona fide stone Buddhas that must have been destroyed by punters hoping for a quick buck!
Solid gold, so I'm told
And so it came to my last night abroad. Fittingly, it was absolutely pouring. I couldn't possibly have a quiet last night, so I teamed up with a couple of Kiwis to check out some of the many bars in town. After early fuelling up we hired a tuk-tuk to take us across town to have alook at the infamous Patpong district. Tuk-tuks are the three-wheeled motorised rickshaws that are the main means of transport for tourists. However, when you have the capacity three people in the back coupled with an adventurous driver, they can achieve something I have never seen in a non-two wheeled vehicle: The Wheelie. I don't care how much the driver ripped us off - that journey was one of the most entertaining I have ever had as we roared off from each set of lights with the front wheel 4 feet off the ground and total hysterics breaking out in the back.
Patpong itself proved as seedy as we had been led to believe, and I can honestly say it held few thrills for me. I know I invite all manner of criticism but I don't think I'm alone in saying that that sort of stuff simply embarrasses me more than anything else. The main impression I got was a sort of Las Vegas-like sense of satire at the whole artificiality of it all, coupled with a slight bemusement that so many people go for it so much. [Sorry to disappoint anyone hoping for some salacious stories. Maybe I'm just making this bit up to sound civilised - you'll never know!]. In the end we decided that the tried and trusted formula of lots of beer and cheesy muic was the most entertaining way to see the dawn in.
The combination of a moderate hangover and the knowledge of imminent drizzle-ness created a subdued feel to the last day. I checked out the famous Jim Thompson's house - a re-modelled ancient Thai-style house filled with thousands of Thai artefacts - and a few other palaces and museums. However, all insipidity was removed when my impatience at the traffic dictated that I should take a motorbike taxi across town. These taxis, I believe, are unique to Thailand and this is probably a very good thing. One certainly gets from A to B quickly, but weaving through oncoming traffic on the wrong side of the road is maybe not the obvious way to avoid the jams. When you then add the two extra rules of the road prevalent in Bangkok:
1) if at any point approaching a traffic light, one sees it on green, then one can proceed; and
2) when any conflict situation arises, priority is always with the vehicle with greater mass;
then you reach the seemingly illogical conclusion that the tuk-tuk is actually the safe option.
Another temple or something. In the foreground is one of the longtail boats
I spent the afternoon succumbing to the offer of pirated CD's at about a quid a throw. I'm told now that I was ripped off to pay this price but one can't really complain. In fact my only regret is that I doubted the quality (which turned out to be fine) too much to buy more than 12 or so. After torrential rain all day, the clouds lifted at about 4pm to leave my final few hours bathed in glorious sunshine. This struck me as providing a nice symmetry to the whole thing as we had begun with fabulous weather in Seattle back in September. I just wish I hadn't speculated back then that maybe this sun was going to follow us all round the world!
The flight back was typically dull apart from a wonderful announcement made a short way out from Bangkok. Apparently, with Gulf War II having just kicked off, several (amusingly naive) people had expressed concern that we might be flying over Iraq. Credit is due to the captain for his honesty, but if I were one of these worriers I'm not sure I'd have been re-assured by the statement: "Do not worry, we are not going anywhere near the action zone - we are perfectly safe with our route taking us over Afghanistan, Turkmenistan and Kazakstan". Famously stable countries, every one of them.
Fortunately, neither Bin Laden nor Borat managed to shoot us down and thus the trip was over. It had been six months of near-continuous enjoyment, surprise and, I dare say, even a bit of education. I'm not sure if I can be as arrogant as saying "I'm a changed person" but I certainly confirmed a few home truths that I think I had probably always secretly suspected but not admitted. For example, I am definitely a more "outdoors" and more "country" type of person than my indoors city existence has previously prescribed. Also, I think few people would have predicted quite how much a fan I would have been of the adrenaline-intensive experiences - both intentional (e.g. bungy-ing) and unintentional (e.g. Bolivian taxis or Bangkok tuk-tuks)!
It is oft asserted that after trips like this, one returns to be massively underwhelmed about how nothing back home has changed. Sure enough, it was certainly true that my backpack took longer to emerge from the Heathrow baggage retrieval system than from any other airport in the world. However, this pessimistic asssertion was proved to be spectacularly wrong on reaching the good old M4. Here, I discovered the momentous news that the irritating speed limit has magnificently been raised by a whole 10mph to 60. Even greater progress has been made as one now has to pay for the privilege of sitting in London traffic jams. I still love England, but I find it harder to understand why. Maybe I never will.
O how I long to travel back,
And tread again that ancient track!
That I might once more reach that plain,
Where first I left that glorious train;
From whence th' enlighten'd spirit sees
The shady City of palm-trees.
Henry Vaughan
Remarkably apt, I feel.
On to the Addendum.
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