I had always been conflicted about taking luxurious holidays
in third world countries. I don’t buy the excuse of, “They rely on the
tourism!” to take advantage of underpaid services, believing instead that there
are less self-serving ways to help if that’s your genuine purpose. When the
opportunity arose to meet our Polish buddies Aga and Anatol in
Thailand
last December, however, my inner-hypocrite cried, “Yes!
Cheap massages!” and we went for it. On the final leg of the trip
they’d arranged for Aga’s parents (and some other ‘old people’), our friends
would meet us a few days into our stay at Koh Lanta.
We learned first-hand the insanity of Thailand’s
roads when we arrived at Krabi airport, our resort having sent a driver to
collect us. The big-arse ute was constantly beeping as we overtook scooters and
tuk tuks on narrow roads, never minding the oncoming traffic around bends and
hills. If there was a speed limit, it was not adhered to. I was thankful an
unused seatbelt had been fished out for my spot in the back, while Ben held on
for dear life with a front seat view, politely listening to our driver’s
life-story. When he told us he was ‘studying Islam,’ Ben mistook this religious
observance for an official course and asked, “What do you get at the end?”
“I’ll be a better Muslim! I used to party and drink and
date women, y’know? But if you don’t do
these things, if you are good in this life, then in the next life the rivers
will flow with alcohol and you will be covered with untouched women.” Pretty
sure the point of abstaining from something shouldn’t be an overload of it
afterwards!
He went on, “Did you know that this life is short, but in
the next life you live
forever?”
Ben, ever the diplomat, responded as though unfamiliar with
the concept of afterlife: “
Really?.. [followed
by a little Homer Simpson style] Hm.”
We slowed on a rugged, cluttered street without any ‘proper’
shops to turn into our resort, the Thai House Beach Resort. The beach was pretty
as implied (particularly at night when, as I joked, you couldn’t see the
filth!), but our room was ‘less than fresh.’ The bathroom was my key gripe, with
the shower positioned to run over the stained and stinky toilet.
At least we didn’t have to squat, but rinsing our butts with
a hose and putting used paper in the bin was also an unusual experience. I must
say, although I would not want to be responsible for emptying the toilet bin
back home, it did feel like I was polluting by flushing paper when we returned
and the hose is certainly a cleaner process. Ben is squeamish about toilet
matters in general and when he didn’t want to be interrupted during this
foreign process, he’d warn, “Don’t come in! I’m having..
secret toilet time.” The Thai loos were thereby referred to as
‘secret toilet.’
Aside from the heat, the filthy roadside we had to walk and
the random deposits of stinking garbage, our first few days in Koh Lanta were decent.
I was intrigued by the oddities compared to home. Businesses did a little of
everything, like a restaurant that hired out scooters, sold gasoline and
offered laundry service. The greatest range of groceries was to be found at
7-11 and you had to take your shoes off to enter the pharmacy.
Our resort bar was beachfront, which was a beautiful way to
drink and dine. The beach was no more impressive than those at home, but as we
braced ourselves for freezing Victorian-style water, I must say that the
unexpected warmth was a delight. Aside from the rough sea floor and whatever was
giving us little stings (resulting in our frequent yells of, “Argh, rocks!
Argh.. ‘stingers’!”) we enjoyed our swims. After seeing my own post-Christmas
body in a bikini, I was compelled to try a morning yoga class by the beach.
Hot, sticky and harassed by flies in seconds, I questioned my decision while
silently willing my rigid pants not to split. I tried to remain focussed but
admit to losing my cool when I spotted a bullant on my arm. Children on the
beach watched, intrigued, as we ourselves looked like kids at play while
attempting headstands. I finished the class at least pleased that I’d achieved
one.
The stickiness was a way of Thai life and I learned not to compulsively
change my clothes when I needed washing done after only 3 days. I left our
laundry at the multi-service restaurant (as you do) and was pleased at the $3
price.. Until I noticed my $8 pair of undies were missing. When I asked the
restaurateur about it, she vaguely repeated, “White women’s underwear..” then,
as I found to be common in the Thai service industry, completely ignored me.
Guess I won’t be seeing those knickers, again! Maybe they were rented out with
a motorbike.
When our friends’ arrival was delayed, I booked a kayaking
trip around
Talabeng Island
for our fourth day. We tried to grab a quick breakfast before collection and
were mortified to disturb someone asleep on a mat on the restaurant floor. We
were loaded onto two long slat seats on the back of a ute, with only yoghurt
(and in Ben’s case, tuna – a poor combination) in our bellies, and I wondered
if it would just be the two of us. 10 people and no arse space later, I felt
rather mocked for my way-off assumption. Arriving at the water, it was a
considerable distance to the longtail boats involving a stretch of flimsy
boardwalk and the bridge from an Indiana Jones set. Only half-joking, I warned
my very heavy, muscular husband not to fall through. We shared a boat with a
quiet, young German couple and a small family from the
Czech
Republic. 5 y.o. Karen was sitting closest
to the weighty kayaks when the poorly secured one on top flew off and hit the
water. The family quickly moved away from the kayak missiles as we circled the
fallen one for collection. It began to rain and we were saturated with the
combination of sea spray. When we reached the gaping cliffs of Talabeng, we
were sent out in our kayaks with the unspoken, typical Thai instruction of, “On
your way, then.
You figure it out.”
After 20 minutes of aimless paddling without our promised guide, Ben’s foot
began to fall asleep and he was angry as only a Leo stuck in a kayak in the
rain can be. We were finally led into an unimpressive little cave with a rope
for climbing a 30 metre slope, and I watched in horror as the Czech mother
allowed her little daughter to attempt the feat of which I was too afraid! It
was actually one of the Thai guides, not famous for their safety methods, who
asked that the child come down.
We took lunch at the unspectacular Koh Bubu island and I
knew that as Ben looked at the teeny spread with his ferocious appetite, he’d
be wondering, “What’s everybody else eating?” As we waited to leave, the Czech
parents allowed Karen to fling around a ginormous stick which nearly hit both
of them in the eye, and I made a dash for the loo. I was finally faced with a
squat toilet and it struck me as strange to know that the two cutely dressed
Thai teenagers who were hanging out in the bathroom had happily used it. Well,
I now know there’s a right and a wrong way to squat since I’m pretty sure I
should’ve been facing the closest wall and not the empty cubicle.
Our final stop was at Tungyeepeng mangrove forest to feed
the monkeys. The uncomfortably confident creatures boarded the boat to scour us
for food and Karen, the sweet child of strife, reached out to pat one. The
monkey bore its teeth and lashed out, so I grabbed Karen while Ben made a move
to tackle the monkey! We now know who’s who in our fight or flight responses.
That night was New Years Eve which we spent with Aga and
Anatol, who had finally made it into town the previous evening. Apparently,
their boat trip took more hours than usual due to unexpected stops for swimming
through caves! I can’t see why travellers would need that information. We sat
on the beach and watched fire-lit lanterns traverse the water, which was very
pretty (nevermind the pollution and potential fires. That’s Thailand!).
Aga had hired a vehicle for New Years Day to explore the
island and although I was nervous to be on the road, I was happy “So long as
I’m not driving!” When we were given an auto ute and I was the most experienced
auto driver, I found myself in the driver’s seat and the boys in the tray.
Nervous as hell, I quickly learned that the biggest vehicles have right of way
and my only concern became keeping the boys butts in the back (apparently, I
hadn’t taken enough care initially and provided a makeshift rollercoaster). We
found a very derelict little village where people still slept outside on their
mats and music continued to blast from the evening’s celebrations. We passed
tsunami warning signs, took swims, had lunch at a restaurant with an amazing
view and explored Old Town,
which I actually loved. The only unenjoyable part of our journey was through
our desire to find some elephants. The map led us to a single baby elephant
attached to a tree by a very short chain. He could hardly move and was
literally crying, while the keepers charged tourists to feed him bananas. It
was one of the worst sights of my life, made so terrible by the knowledge that
it’s clearly acceptable in Thailand
to treat animals that way. It was also common to see stray dogs, native birds
kept in tiny cages, as well as malnourished and/or pregnant, tiny cats with
their tails, for some reason, cut off.
In typical Westerner fashion, I conveniently forgot the
troubles of the world with a massage that evening. I tried my first Thai
massage and it was the best I’ve ever had in my life. The little Thai lady
must’ve hit all the right pressure points and was also able to give me a deep
massage without much pain, which is rare. I walked out of the place like I was
floating on a cloud.
The following day, we went to see some better treated
animals at Mr Chien’s snake show. We watched Chien kiss loose cobras on the
head, explaining that they were distracted by his knees in their sight range.
Chien ran us through the deadliness of each snake, telling us, “This one bite
you.. Dead in 2 hr. This one.. Dead in 1 hr.” Not let out of its pen was a very dangerous looking black and white
snake which could indeed jump two metres in the air to bite you on the face. It
was no comfort to know the snakes were all found locally, but it was quite a
show.
Our next destination would be
Railay
Beach, where we spent the remainder
of our trip. Stay tuned for more hatey hatred!
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