Category Archives: Thailand

Thailand Part IV: Diving

29 Thursday Apr 2010

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Friends (written yesterday)

Pics are up!

http://picasaweb.google.com/anitalgray/ThailandBeachesAndDivingApril2010#

I’ve also uploaded a bunch of videos as well from the entire trip:

http://picasaweb.google.com/anitalgray/MoviesFromThailandCambodiaAndNepal#



So I made it back to the States, and right now I am curled up on the sofa at my friend Jessica’s house in Berkeley as she is trying to get her 9 month old baby down for a nap. I’m trying hard to tell my body that its not the middle of the night, so finishing off my blog before I head to the airport for my flight to Seattle made a lot of sense.


So I left you on the afternoon in Phuket when I was on cloud nine because not only had I found a liveaboard boat to go diving on, but Mark was able to come with me too! After giddily packing and storing my larger bag, I raced back to the dive shop in time for our transfer north to meet the boat. I met Mark there, and I was overwhelmed with a sense of relief…I didn’t want to let myself believe that he was going to come along until I actually saw him there. He was grinning from ear to ear, as was I, we were both just dumbfounded by the number of things that had to line up in order for this to happen. Plus, we’d both gotten such a good last-minute price that we felt almost guilty, especially since we were essentially kicking one of the dive guides out of his cabin. I was especially glad for Mark to get to see the Similan Islands before the season ended, but also just for him to experience some fun diving after having dived for “work” so much lately.


The drive was a good couple of hours and Mark and I talked and kissed like honeymooners. Some of the new group asked him how we knew each other, and after he mentioned we’d only met a few days ago, they looked at us incredulously. I really admire Mark’s directness, he is direct the way I am direct. I think that’s what immediately attracted me to him, especially when you consider his approach that day on the beach. He is also wickedly funny, and great to talk to. In the evenings on the boat, we’d often just lie on the bed listening to Mark’s music and tell each other stories…he’d have me in stitches. We both share the notion of a “traditional” life being extremely overrated- I really admire his ability to set his mind to wanting to do something (like learn to dive and go straight to a divemaster qualification during four months in Thailand) that others would scoff at, and just go do it. I am very similar and I think subsequently we understood one another.


The boat itself was quite sizable- 3 decks and about 7 separate living cabins. The first deck housed living areas, kitchen, and dive equipment. Below deck was more cabins and then the second deck had a dining/living area, captain’s area, and our cabin. We got really lucky- every other cabin you simply walked inside and you were immediately met by 2 bunk beds. Our cabin was far more spacious and housed a double bed. We jumped on it like children when we first walked in. The upper deck was a large sunning deck.


I was going to have a really good time. I kept thinking about the SNL skit “I’m on a boat” and smiling.


That evening we set sail after a really good dinner where we chatted with and got to know the other divers- from 13 different countries in total. We were warned that the crossing to the Similans might be a little rough, so I took some seasickness pills.


They weren’t kidding, after a few hours the boat was rocking so hard that I had to lie down, and was eventually able to sleep.


The trip consisted of 3 full days at sea where we completed 4 dives a day. On the last morning we’d do 2 dives before heading back to Phuket. I’ve never done more than 2 dives in one day, so I had some trepidations at how I might react or feel at the end of that many dives. Not that there wasn’t enough surface intervals to have much risk of decompression sickness, but still, I was wondering whether it would take it out of me.


Well, we soon fell into a rhythm with the schedule. Which I’m sure you’ll all agree was extremely stressful. Wake up around 7:30am for coffee and a dive briefing. First dive then a delicious breakfast like banana pancakes and scrambled eggs. Then an hour to sunbathe, read, or nap and our second morning dive followed by an enormous lunch. Follow that with a delicious nap and our third dive of the day. Then the highlight (of my day) was afternoon tea and CAKE followed by either a sunset dive at 5pm or a night dive at 7pm. Then dinner and an evening to socialize, read, chill to music, or sleep.


Sounds difficult, no? It was…..;-)


I certainly didn’t get bored with the dives themselves. In fact, the more I dove (is it dove or dived?) the more I wanted to dive. It had a cumulative effect on me. And I LOVED diving with Mark. Besides the coral being superb, fish being colorful and the water crystal clear, a dive can be often dictated by your dive buddy. Many of the other divers on the trip were photographers and/or the kind of divers who will patiently wait in a line 6 or 7 divers long to get a quick look at a tiny seahorse. Mark and I are both not like that. We like to explore, really swim, and not linger anywhere for too long. I really appreciated that about having him as a partner underwater. Our styles meshed. Also, since he was practically a divemaster, we were given permission to separate from the group and do our own thing. Which usually had us separating from the other divers from the very descent and discovering that we’d covered quite some ground by the time our 50 min/ 50 bar limit was reached. We would often surface and think “Where is the boat?” and it inevitably had to come quite a way to pick us up!


I really love that feeling that I first get in the pit of my stomach as I look at my buddy after we’ve first jumped in the water and acknowledge that all is OK and I’m ready to descend. Its such a magical feeling – to know that you’re leaving the world as we know it, and are about to enter the whole other world of this planet’s water. I especially enjoy it right at that moment when the water passes over the level of your mask and you first have to clear your ears to equalize. Then you know its game on. I had to be careful to descend slowly, my ears did present some trouble to me over the course of the five days…I think I was still very congested after my Khumbu cough. And Mark would always float down head first, kicking his way to greater depths where I preferred to just float down nice and easy with my feet first.


I thought about Jennifer a lot on the first few dives. Then I became a lot more confident until not even the night dive unnerved me.


We saw some incredible sea life. We saw moray eels, manta rays, leopard sharks, octopus, as well as a huge variety of fish and coral. My favorite moment was on a dive where Mark and I had typically swam away from the group. We were observing an octopus that had settled on the sea floor and were waiting for it to move again. We were shoulder to shoulder when Mark looked up for a second and then grabbed me fiercely and turned me around to look out towards the “big blue beyond”. In that moment a huge manta ray swam up and over our heads, so close it took my breath away (well, not literally because its really bad to not breathe continually underwater). I think I said “Jesus F$#^&ing Christ” into my regulator. We were super excited and couldn’t help but gloat about it afterwards on the boat, much to the chagrin of the other divers who hadn’t seen it. Some even suggested that perhaps we were mistaken, and since neither of us had a camera, maybe we were making it up? Whatever! They were just jealous.


The night dive was really fun- and it was Mark’s first. Once it was really dark out and we were relying entirely on our flashlights to see underwater, I was mesmerized by the color of the water as the light from the bottom of the boat shone down into the blue underneath. It reminded me a little of diving in the cenotes of Mexico, with different shades of sapphire. So utterly beautiful.


So after four days of diving, I still really hadn’t had enough. It was a little exhausting- by the time dinner was served each night I was pretty pooped and I slept pretty well. I was, however, ready to get back to some air-conditioning. We were both so tired of dripping with sweat 24/7. It wears after a while. I missed the last dive on day 4 as I wanted to have a full 24 hour window left before my flight to Bangkok in the morning. On the night of the 3rd day, the crew informed us that the compressors had broken and so we’d be pulling into a port for the evening. We were all happy for the chance to get on dry land and walked around for a few hours, getting ice cream at the 7-Eleven. Some members of the group had a little too much rum and were hard pressed to get back in the water in the morning…


The following day we returned to Phuket pretty early, around 3:30pm. Mark and I said a quick farewell while I went back to my hotel to collect my bags, but it turned out that Mark’s sister was back in town and he spent the evening with her. Sadly, I didn’t getting the chance to say goodbye, but I have a feeling that I’ll see him again someday.


I was super wiped out by the time I got back to my room. I was supposed to meet up with Allison, my friend from Cali and Semester at Sea that evening. So I showered and packed for tomorrow then waited to hear from her via Facebook… Not hearing from her, I headed out to do some last minute shopping and ended up grabbing a movie for some delightful air-conditioning. Someone who I didn’t recognize had written on my wall that evening, and it wasn’t until around 10pm that night that I realized it was Allison’s friend giving me info on when and how to meet up with them. Was sad about that, but by 10 I was absolutely spent and crashed out pretty hard.


The next morning, I grabbed a cab about 8:30 am to the airport and began my long journey home. I had a four hour layover in Bangkok and a five hour layover in Hong Kong. I finished my book on Buddhism and began reading “Then they killed my father” – a memoir about the Cambodian genocide of the 70’s…not exactly cheerful reading, but gripping nonetheless. Long journeys always make me feel a bit lonely and this was no exception, plus I was missing Mark. Soon, I knew, I’d be in a “different world” in all senses of the world.


And so I am.


I will try to write an epilogue of sorts when I get back home tomorrow. In the meantime, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my stories as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them!


Much love,

Anita

Thailand Part III: Beaches

27 Tuesday Apr 2010

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Friends,
I’m sitting at the airport in Bangkok (God do I know this airport well by now!) and with some free time before my flights Stateside, I think I’ll take the opportunity to write about my last week in Thailand before I get home and “normality” sets in and the memories are not as fresh.
I’ve had an incredible end to my nearly two month sojourn. When I was trekking in the Himalayas, I couldn’t imagine being back in the heat of Thailand, but that fact hit me all too abruptly when I flew all the way from Lukla to Phuket in one day… I left you last in my hotel room in Phuket town (strangely, my guidebook recommended making the city center a “base” – an idea which is very flawed indeed). After a long needed sleep, I checked out of my room, stored my bags and set out into Phuket Town with the idea of finding a dive shop to discuss liveaboard options to the Similan Islands.
Unfortunately, Phuket town is not exactly a tourist hub, and it took me a frustrating hour just to find someone to do my laundry! After walking for what seemed like hours, I found a small travel agency who explained to me that I might find what I’m looking for with Similan Pro Dive, but that there office was far away. He offered to take me there in his car, which was extremely kind of him. So, off I set and happily chatted with the dive staff at their shop. Not wanting to commit to their 2 night/3 day trip right away without shopping a little, I accepted their kind offer to drop me off at the bus stop to catch a public bus to Patong Beach, where many more dive shops were located. After a quick bite to eat, I found myself in Patong and quickly realized that this was the main tourist hub of Phuket!
After chatting with several dive shops, I settled on an incredible 4 night/5 day liveaboard with Eden Divers for the insanely good price of 14,000 baht including 16 dives and equipment! It didn’t leave for another two days, so I decided to go to Ko Phi Phi in the morning for one night and then return in time to catch the boat heading to the Similan Island, Ko Ban, and Richelieu Rock. I was so excited.
Having met a couple of Brits on the main beach in Patong who recommended a small new hotel that was cheap in Patong, that evening was spent grabbing a cab to and from Phuket Town to grab my bags and laundry, before checking in to my new digs and packing an overnight bag. I also squeezed in another heavenly Thai massage.
The next morning a minibus picked me up and transferred me to the ferry dock for the 90 minute crossing to the exquisitely beautiful Phi Phi Island. The water was emerald and the beaches blindingly white. I was excited to arrange a longboat to take me over to Phi Phi Lei in the early morning as I’d heard that the boat trips during the day took you to this famous beach (from the movie “The Beach” with Leonardo Di Caprio) did so along with hundreds of other tourists, which would spoil the ambiance for me, I think. After spending a few minutes wandering around the little town looking for a place to stay, I happened across a sign advertising a camping trip where you got to stay on Maya Beach (The Beach) overnight in a small group and wake up to the sunrise there! I was absolutely sold and giddily excited when I met up with the group of us lucky enough to have figured this out around 3 in the afternoon.
We had a wonderful crew of people, there was about 13 of us altogether, and the evening turned out to be one of the most memorable on my trip. And this had a lot to do with a certain someone that I met there: Mark. Mark, is a devastatingly gorgeous and fun-loving, 36 yr-old adventurous American/Aussie from Aspen, Co., who had been in Phuket for the last few months completing his DiveMaster training and was going to Ko Phi Phi with his sister and her three girlfriends. We immediately hit it off. In fact, during the first half hour or so that we were on Maya Bay, frantically taking photographs of one another, Mark asked to have a picture taken with me. A little surprised at this stranger’s enthusiasm, I agreed, only to be further shocked when he looked at me and said “Why don’t we just kiss now and get it over with, as we both know its going to happen sooner or later tonight?”
I relented 😉
And so began my lovely week-long romance in the stunningly romantic setting of the Islands of Thailand’s Andaman coast.
On arrival in the bay, some of us opted to “swim” to shore which was MUCH farther than it first appeared. It ended up being about a 20 minute swim in a strong current, but it didn’t matter. That evening was spectacular: to be able to watch all the throngs of tourists leave, having that idyllic setting just for our little group, to be able to watch the sunset, eat dinner, share some drinks, dancing, and fun…and then find a little spot on the sand to sleep – it was amazing. And being able to share that with someone new simply added to the experience.
It was a little difficult getting to sleep that night- no matter what you were still covered in sand, and sand is actually harder than you’d think to sleep on. But we were rewarded with the incredible bioluminescence washing up on shore during the night, and then a chance to watch the surrounded hills and formations begin to blush pink in the approaching sunlight in the morning.
The following day Mark and I explored the other side of the island just after breakfast. As we were leaving, we happened upon a blue sea snake that was amazingly out of the water and slithering along the rocks right where we walked. We happily snapped photos.
All too soon it was time to take the longboat back to the larger boat to Phi Phi Don, unfortunately, the staff had forgotten my overnight backpack and I had to kayak, frantically, back to shore and then back to the boat to retrieve it in time.
Back on Phi Phi Don, I wandered the narrow streets checking out the island and its many beaches. It was such a hot afternoon that soon all Mark and I could do is sit at a bar and order cold drinks to stave away the heat. I opted to finish writing up my Nepal experience, and then met up with Mark in the delicious cold air con cabin of the boat back to Phuket where we laughed and shared life stories over fruit smoothies.
I was almost starting to regret my decision to take the 4 day liveaboard…it is just so rare to connect with someone the way Mark and I were, AND while on vaction! However, his sister was planning on doing her PADI Open Water course over the next four days, so Mark had to be there for that.
On getting back to my hotel, I gathered my bags and went over to the Dive shop. Horror. The owner told me that one of the generators on the boat had blown and that the trip was cancelled. Worse than that, the only other liveaboard boat going to the same destinations with another company was full and wouldn’t accept any more customers!
I was so terribly disappointed, and walked over to Mark’s hotel to tell him the news. At least we’d get to spend more time together…so after dinner, Mark took me on a tour of Patong on the back of his moped and I whooped for joy, especially when he rode really fast. I was having a great time, and I was sure I’d sort something else out to do the next day.
Well, I sure did!!!!!!!!!! The following day I puttered around the resort, did some shopping and checked email. The dive shop was supposed to be looking into other dive trips for me, more than likely a bunch of day trips together. I assumed that Mark was out diving with his sister. Walking by “West Coast Divers” I decided to go inside and just try ONE MORE TIME to see if they’d had a cancellation for their trip that was leaving that night.
I happened upon the owner of the company and she agreed to let me go, because she was going to give me one of the staff cabins on the boat! I was so excited, but wanted to tell Mark that I wouldn’t get to see him again before I left for the States. Since West Coast is where Mark is doing his Dive Master course, I mentioned him to the owner in passing conversation, and she says “Oh, poor Mark…his sister is sick and not doing Open Water anymore” – to which I responded, “Um, can I please use your cell phone?!”
I called Mark, who confirmed that his sister had changed her mind about the course, and then I told him that West Coast was letting me go on their liveaboard, and did he want to join me since there was space for him too??!! He couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed the stars had aligned for us to go together.
With only 2 hours to go before the transfer to the boat left Phuket, it was a mad dash about town to get laundry, and get packed. My hotel charged me for a half-night, but I didn’t care: I felt like a 10 year old on Christmas Morning. I was going diving for 4 nights and 5 days….and I got to have my very own DiveMaster as a dive buddy!
Yay me!
Well, I’m out of time, so I will finish writing about my liveaboard trip till tomorrow.
Much love,
Anita

Thailand Part II

22 Monday Mar 2010

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I’m back in Chiang Mai and preparing to fly to Cambodia tomorrow, while fighting a weird cough/cold. It has not dampened my enjoyment and its been a full week here in Thailand.
So I last left you on my last evening in Chiang Mai before heading out on a 3 day/2 night trek into the rural hills north of the city to visit the indigenous Karen tribe villages. We spent that last evening travelling up to Doi Sudathep, a temple perched on a mountain about 20 mins outside the city which boasted incredible views of the sunset. After taking in the views, the five of us headed out for dinner and drinks to bid farewell (only Raizel was joining me on the trek) to our group of five. It was a memorable evening punctuated by the obligatory Irish pub for another St. Patrick’s day spent away from home. (and of course, there isn’t a city in the world that doesn’t have an Irish pub!)

After a quick breakfast and picking up my airline tickets for Cambodia the following Monday, we piled into a van to head out to the start of our trek. There were seven of us in the initial group, with only four who stayed for the full 2 nights of the excursion. We began our adventure with an elephant ride through the jungle. Now, I’ve been on elephants before, so I wasn’t initially that terribly enthused to give it a try, but decided that it was included and the elephants looked pretty happy and well treated. So up we went, Raizel and I.

Whoops of excitement from both of us prompted Raizel to point out that we were being rather “loud American tourists”, and we both vowed to tone it down a little. The scenery was beautiful and the elephants trotted along nicely with the weight on their backs. Then came time to feed the elephants, including the two baby elephants who came along sans riders to partake in the fun. We were given bananas to place gingerly into the elephants’ trunks which kept “snaking” into our laps hungrily almost immediately after a banana had been swallowed. It was once we were out of bananas that all hell broke loose. The elephants started to snort in discontent, flinging a mucous banana-filled spit all over us, and causing Raizel to begin shrieking at the top of her lungs. Add to that the fact that the baby elephant was ever more persistent in snottily rummaging through our legs, arms and laps with his hungry and snotty trunk, and you have two very loud “American tourists” screaming. To make matters even worse, our guide, who up to that point had been sitting on the elephant’s head navigating for us, decided to just jump off and let the elephant we were riding just do its own thing. That got Raizel into a complete frenzy as she recalled frightening memories of being thrown from a horse. The elephant sometimes would break out into a little run that made Raizel scream so hard it hurt my eardrums as I tried to soothe her by saying all was well (which of course I didn’t know for sure). One couldn’t help but notice as well that the snotty trunks very closely resembled the male sex organ which made their pursuit of our scared beings more…tasteless, shall we say? It all became even more entertaining when the whole group of us headed into the river and then the banana snot became fountains of muddy water, rocks and no doubt elephant poop all raining down over us. We should have worn plastic parkas!

It was all easily forgotten as we witnessed the baby elephants playing in the water and whooping for joy with their mom’s. It was wonderful to observe.
Filthy and covered in banana mucous, we headed to the trail head and happily hiked our gear ten minutes in to a raging waterfall. It was idyllic. We ate fried rice from little plastic bags and then ecstatically cooled and bathed ourselves in the turbulent water which was just cold enough to be bitingly refreshing.

After our swim, we hiked for a couple of hours to the location of our first night’s camp: a Karen village complete with a bamboo “hut” made for our shelter. It was delightfully devoid of tourists (which I had feared would be lining up to buy knick-knacks at souvenir stalls) and actually quite authentic from what I could tell. The village held about 10 different “homes” and we witnessed families returning from the rice fields’ and a days’ work, children running barefoot and playing with the chickens and the colorful outfits that adorned the married women (single women in Karen tribes wear only white to make it easier for the men to court them!)

Settling down to our outdoor table for a deserved chilled beer, I noticed that there were some pretty dark grey clouds looming towards us over the horizon. Our guide, Det (spelling??), said that he had heard on the news that a storm was coming tonight. This was very rare because we were slap bang in the middle of the dry season. Hmmmm. We waited, anxiously, as the “atmosphere” created by the dark clouds, the sticky heavy air, and the gathering winds spelled weather to come. Before we could start dinner, the first raindrops began to fall. And then, the heavens opened and unleashed their fury for the next several hours. It was one of the most violent downpours I’ve ever witnessed, churning the ground into a sea of red gushing mud, furiously plummeting down the hillsides. Needing to pee required running through a small exposed area between our shack and the outhouse, and we were soaked by the brief exposure to the elements. Safely inside our bamboo hut, we were incredulous as we began to hear the sound of giant hail pounding on the roof together with the rain. Hail? In Thailand? In this heat?

Apparently, yes.

We ended up dining inside our sleeping quarters, a wonderful red curry with rice, and then shared songs and stories to the sound of the storm outside.

We slept on little mattresses spread out on the bamboo floor, and I cursed myself for not bringing my cotton “mummy” liner as I looked on at the filthy pillow covers and sheet less beds with blankets that may not have seen the inside of a washing machine this past decade. Not expecting the rain was one thing, but none of us expected the temperature to plummet the way it did. It was so cold during the night, that all regard for sanitation vanished and I pulled four blankets tightly around every exposed piece of skin, shivering away. Brrr.

The next morning we awoke to a fresh air that had been cleaned from the smoke of the last 3 days (all the crops are being burned at present, creating horrendous smog in the area and difficult respiratory conditions) and no signs of damage from the storm, except for our chilled bodies which responded well to a fresh cup of hot coffee. After scrambled eggs and toast, we strapped on our backpacks and headed out on the trail.

We past several more villages this day, witnessing farmers at work in the fields, women gathering frogs to eat for dinner, a tarantula which our guide “poked” out of its nest with a stick (it emerged with such speed that the guide had to take a leap backwards to get out of its way…it was epic!), and lots of farm animals such as water buffalo, pigs, and chickens. It was beautiful countryside and only the heat kept us rambling at a comfortable pace. We said goodbye to our 3 “2night” friends and continued on our way to our lunch spot.

This was taken in a villager’s little bamboo home and it was a very memorable part of the trip as we watched four of the Karen people prepare their own authentic lunch of frogs, a BBQ bird which resembled a small chicken but clearly wasn’t, and a grilled concoction of red ants and larvae! Our Dutch companion, Dave, was brave enough to try all 3… including the bird’s brain and liver. We happily took pictures of him doing this and smiled at the offers to try for ourselves as we ate our safe noodles in broth.

Our guide, Det, was a fey little man, and he told us that he was in “training” to lead this tour himself. It was difficult to form an opinion of him because his English was so terrible. Whenever you asked a question, rather than admit that he didn’t understand a word you were saying, he would do the classic Thai “saving face” move of giggling lightly and then responding with the last word in your question, an incomprehensible word that was not English, OR, my personal favorite: just “yes” or “no”. On several occasions, he hit on Raizel and suggested that the “bunk” together…so after that, I didn’t trust him at all and he really got on my nerves.
After lunch he offered our group more noodles and then laughed at me implying I shouldn’t have a second helping because I was “fat”, at which point he poked me in the tummy. Irritating little man.

Things got a little amusing, albeit embarrassing, when we were offered chocolate bars for dessert which we happily agreed to pay 10 baht for. The bars were called “Beng Beng”, and when it came time to pay, each of us offered up information on how many “Beng Bengs” we were responsible for payment for. Our guide kept giggling at us, and it was difficult at first to determine if this was just his regular giggle that he did constantly, or if there was some unknown reason for his amusement. Eventually, he started telling us that “Beng Beng” was a bad word in the Karen language. “What does it mean?” we asked, shocked at our innocent mistake, realizing that since the Thai don’t have the same alphabet, they would have no idea what the name of the chocolate bars would sound like in the English language. He literally took out his dictionary and drew a little diagram of a vagina and said “it means middle of woman”. I couldn’t believe it! We didn’t know how to say hello, thank you, please, or goodbye, but we managed to repeatedly say “vagina” to the Karen people who hosted our lunch! Unbelievable.

We walked on another couple of hours and found ourselves in a rather muddy section of agricultural land. I gingerly took steps to avoid sinking into the mud, and heard Raizel mockingly comment “Is it a little muddy, Anita??” at which moment I heard her shriek as she herself stepped knee deep into the bog. I smiled broadly and said “Be slow to point out other people’s shit for you will soon step in your own!”

That evening brought us to another waterfall where we happily dragged on our swimsuits and jumped in the cool water. Marley and Dave (from the Netherlands) happily made out in front of us under the cascading water, so in love that they were oblivious to our onlooking stares. Its always so lovely to see people madly in love…except when you yourself are so very single…. I gave them both a hard time which they took extremely well 😉

Filing into our jungle camp for the evening, we came across a lone Korean man whom I fondly named Mr. Bath, because of his fascination with asking nonsensical questions about showers/baths/spas the following day. Apparently, he had been with a large Korean group, forgotten his towel in camp, dropped his bag to go fetch it, and then gotten horribly lost. He was very sweet, but communicating with him made communicating with Det seem easy as pie. It was painful even trying to convey agreement or refusal. After choosing a bamboo bungalow as far away from the “lovers” (who no doubt were going to make the most of having a private room) as possible, we all sat down to enjoy a cold beer before dinner. We noticed, to our chagrin, that storm clouds were gathering AGAIN, and this time…with two beers muddling my brain and lowering my defenses, I gave up some raucous entertainment singing my heart out as the clouds rolled in and my new onlooking fans (including ardent audience member Mr. Bath who kept saying “encore”) played the drums with their hands. It was an evening I will not soon forget. The rain started pounding down shortly after our dinner of yummy spiced vegetables and rice, and we had no choice but to retire to the storm safety of our huts as early as 8pm.

The storm was not quite as violent as the night before but it did provide some wonderful lightning and thunder claps. It was extremely engaging and I thoroughly enjoyed laying in my hut and listening to the sounds of the sky and watching as the river and camp light up with each strike of electricity.

Our last day involved a relatively short hike out to our waiting truck, which was colored by Mr. Bath’s insatiable questions about our hotel, whether they had showers, baths, or air conditioning. Mr. Bath was apparently very particular and after answering Raizel’s pleading glares to come and “save her” from her constant ‘I’m sorry…I’ve no idea what you are talking about” pleas, we together managed to ascertain that he was actually enquiring as to whether we knew of a public bath house available in Chiang Mai? We suggested he ask for a “spa” and hoped he’d give up with his ceaseless questions. Mr. Bath really was very sweet and I’ll not soon forget him. He was “picked up” by his lost group at the place we stopped at for lunch and we waved fond goodbyes.
Our truck took us safely (standing in the truck bed holding on for dear life) to a lunch stop before our Bamboo Rafting experience. Another first, which I love! We ate Pad Thai noodles, fried rice, and melon greedily.

The rafting experience was definitely improved by the fact that there had been such a significant down pouring of water the previous two evenings…the river was rather swollen. We imagined calmly sitting on this pontoon-like structure whilst being gently glided down the river, but the reality was rather different. We were soaked to the skin almost immediately by a combination of waves lapping over the rafts and our laughing river guide slapping down his oar on the water sending a wave of water over our heads. It was very good fun, especially when we navigated over the albeit mild rapid sections, because the raft itself was so flimsy. We watched as other groups capsized, and cheered ourselves as we managed to stay afloat through the last series of turbulent water.

I was very happy to get back to our guest house after the 2 hour drive home in a bumpy truck, though the ride was definitely aided by our hilarious recollections of Det, “Beng Bengs”, Mr. Bath, and the amorous forays of our Dutch friends.

We showered, re-humanized, and had an amazing organic salad dinner before heading out to the “Silver Temple” for “Monk Chat”, an opportunity to talk to a Buddhist Monk and ask random questions about his studies/life/Buddhism, and a free two hour class on meditation. Our “Tuk Tuk” driver dropped us a short walk from the temple and we navigated what turned out to be a wonderful Saturday street market full of Thai vendors selling everything from waffles to leather handbags. On arrival at the temple, which was a glorious aluminium/silver building, we were informed that the meditation teacher was away in Quebec, and that only the monk chat was available that evening. Slightly disappointed we sat down with the eager young monk to try out our questions.

His name was Thuy, which he told us meant “Fat”, but that after his nephew was given the same name, his parents added “Big”, so his name was “Fat Big”….which I thought was very sweet. We asked lots of questions like, “How old were you when you became a monk?”, “why did you choose this for yourself?”, “what’s a typical day like?”, and “Why can’t you be touched by a woman?”. He calmly and in his rather good English explained that in Thailand, it is a matter of cultural pride for every family to have at least one boy enter the Buddhist monastery..so he wanted to do that for his family. He entered at 18 and had been there for 3 years as a novice, sleeping on the ground while the monks each had an assigned bed. He said that his monastery focused on studying Buddhism, as opposed to studying meditation, which was interesting to learn. He also explained that he can’t be touched by a woman because it may lead to “Sexual Misconduct”. He was earnest, endearing and very encouraging of our exploration of his faith and beliefs.

After navigating the market back home, and guiltily stopping for a banana waffle filled with chocolate sauce which was so good it brought tears to our eyes, we happily crashed in our beds, ecstatic to be between clean sheets tonight.

Today brought a wonderful new experience of a Thai cooking class, which I was determined not to miss despite waking up with a horrible cough and stuffy nose. It lasted all day, and began with an informative tour of the local market where spices, vegetables and fruits were classified for us, and we all went back to the school laden with baskets straight out of “The Sound of Music”.
I really enjoyed the style of learning and the hands-on attentive teachers. I learned how to make Pad Thai, Chiang Mai Curry, Red Curry Paste, Mango with sticky rice, Seafood coconut soup, and Green Papaya salad. The group was lively and happily shared travel stories in between dishes, which we individually happily consumed as reward for our tested skills. By the end of the day, my tummy was so full I could barely move, and needed to take the rest of the day to “recover” and take it easy before my flights tomorrow to Cambodia. So, I’ve been writing this, and uploading my pics, which I hope that you enjoy!

SO ….that’s all for now, the next installment will no doubt be from the Khmer capital of Phnom Penh. I bid goodbye to Raziel sadly, happy that she will not be far away for me to visit when I get back to Seattle. I await further adventures!!

Much love,
Anita

Thailand Part I

17 Wednesday Mar 2010

Posted by in Thailand

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Friends,

Its hard to believe that this is only Day 4 of my trip thus far to Thailand. Feels like weeks have passed by. It was also very difficult to wrap my head around the speed at which I progressed from my job offer, to my travel plans, to actually leaving- five days in total. It sort of made my head spin. That was pushing it, even for me! I was filled with the usual anxieties of traveling alone, going somewhere exotic that I’m unfamiliar with, and not having done enough in the research department to calm my usual detail-oriented nerves. However, the moment I stepped on my first of three flights to Bangkok…everything dissipated and I was filled with a sense of excitement for yet another Anita Adventure extraordinaire.

My journey was extremely smooth and I cannot recommend Cathay Pacific more highly. They were incredibly particular about every detail of their flight service. I initially flew to Vancouver to catch my overnight flight to Hong Kong where I lost a Saturday night going over the dateline (but at least I didn’t need a date!) It was great seeing all of the Olympic paraphernalia again, and I managed to purchase a little Olympic Mascot keyring of “Quatchi” – the little furry Sasquatch that I liked so much in Whistler. I thought he would be a good little omen for me, and make my photos of tourist sites much more interesting when there was no-one around to take pictures for me.

My only complaint on the flight was that the Indian Mumbai-bound gentleman sitting next to me on my flight to Bangkok insisted on picking his feet for the duration of the 3 hour journey. Yuck. I arrived, bleary-eyed at Bangkok International at 1:30am local time. I’d been traveling for more than 25 hours. I was quite proud of myself for thinking that it might be best to pay for luggage storage at the airport itself for my giant duffel bag full of gear for my Everest trek, rather than lugging it around Thailand with me. I found left luggage for a little under a buck a day- and then grabbed a cab heading to my guest house for what was left of the night.

The city was buzzing. The driver of my cab assured me in broken English that he might be able to drop me “while walk from hotel” because of the “big meeting”. What was he talking about? “It’s not dangerous”, he assured me, “just many many traffic. You not hurt” Hmmm. I was not feeling reassured. As we drove towards the city centre, it became immediately apparent what he was referring to – thousands of red-shirted people protesting in the streets carrying anti-government banners, and lots of police dressed in full riot gear with bottles of tear gas. Oh, lovely. What a great date I picked to arrive… My “while walk” ended up just being a few hundred meters hopping through a mob of backpackers all drinking and partying up the night in the streets.

Once inside my hotel, I was very impressed by the cleanliness of my room and the peace and quiet within. I showered and quickly fell asleep. The next morning I awoke around 7am and took off for a wander around the nearby streets. I immediately grabbed a fresh fruit shake for breakfast (under a dollar) and noticed that every other storefront offered a variety of massages for about 6 dollars per hour. I was in heaven. Just leave me here!! Looking for a certain travel agency, I asked 3 people sitting to breakfast what street I was on, and promptly struck up a conversation, ascertained that they were all from Manchester, England, forgot all about my morning errand, and joined them on a jaunt to see The Emerald Buddha and Grand Palace.

On arrival, our wits were tested by an official looking man who informed us that the temple was not open until 11am and that we should take a cab to go visit another temple and then return…his “friend” would take us there for only 10 Baht each. This registered in my brain as a scam and we promptly moved on past him and entered the main entrance to find hundreds of other people enjoying the clearly open historic site. After the girls were given clothes to cover our shoulders and knees, we headed in to the site. I rented an English audio tour- I always get so historically nerdy and think that I really want to learn everything about a site like that…and then the heat hits me and I realize I’ve been listening to “Number 8 – The Chadi” for five minutes and I have no idea what’s been said.

The buildings were amazing, ornate and all built by one of the “Ramas” (1-4 if my memory serves). I took lots of pictures and took off my shoes to sit cross-legged in contemplation in front of the Emerald Buddha. I melted. After a refreshing Singha beer and lunch we all headed back to our rooms for a little kitty nap and met up later for some meandering around Khao San Road, shopping, and dinner. Feeling exhausted from jet lag, I eagerly paid 6 bucks for the Thai massage and got pummeled into oblivion. I kept screaming every time she worked on my foot’s surgical site, my English and frantic pointing to my scar apparently not enough to deter this tiny but mighty Thai lady from insisting on punishing it with her fists. Small price to pay for bliss everywhere else.

The next day, my new friends (Drew, Katie and Lucy) and I took a day trip to the Damnoen Saduak Floating Market, the bridge on the River Kwai, and the Tiger Temple. It was a full-on day… The market was extremely touristy but I didn’t care- it was full of the iconic picture-perfect boats overflowing with produce and straw hat wearing old ladies trying to sell you Mango with sticky rice. We happily sat in our canoe-like boat and enjoyed our water-based shopping trip for a couple of hours before we headed to the town of Kanchanaburi and the World War II museum overlooking the famed Bridge on the River Kwai.

I found the museum fascinating and moving as I read of the over 100,000 POW’s who perished building the railway the Japanese used as a supply and escape route from Thailand to Burma during WWII. There were lots of displays of authentic Japanese armored vehicles, currency and signs from the occupation of Thailand, as well as harrowing stories told by some of the survivors. A walk across the now re-build bridge took me back in time as I imagined what it would have been like to be forced to march out onto this bridge knowing that the allied planes were about to drop bombs on it. Chilling. They say that the river ran red with blood for over 4 days.

Another long drive took us to the controversial Tiger Temple, where about 30 tigers live and roam the grounds offering visitors the chance to get up close and personal with pictures and nervous petting (really? Petting? The tigers? I didn’t believe until I saw…) I had to buy a new pair of pants on arrival as I was informed that red and orange could make the tigers aggressive. I handed over cash very willingly upon hearing that for a blue pair of “fisherman’s pants” (which took me another 2 days to figure out how to tie properly I was a little uneasy about how the tigers were treated, especially since most of them were leashed and seemed very habituated to the humans stroking them. I did get my photo taken, my favorite encounter being with the cutest little tiger cubs.

After the 3 hour journey back to Bangkok, we were relieved to hear that we had managed to secure beds on the overnight sleeper train to Chiang Mai leaving in a couple of hours- so after a quick shower, we grabbed our backpacks and braved the crazed streets via taxi to the train station.

The train journey was quite a surreal experience: very exciting, romantic and patience-testing. Thank goodness we managed to secure the air conditioned cabin- the faces of the pained travellers sitting in the “fan-only” cars said it all. I slept extremely well despite the fact that they kept the fluorescent lights on all night (thanks to Cathy Pacific’s eye sleep-cover thingy).

In the morning, we stumbled down to the restaurant car (after taking an obligatory pee in the toilet/standing hole over the train tracks while holding your nose for the stench) and ordered coffee and coffee. While only 8am, the “manager” was blaring Thai pop tunes at a decibel that required yelling for passable conversation, and insisted on singing (badly) over the top of it at the same time. He was clearly on a controlled substance of some kind as evidenced by his inexplicable euphoria, announcement that he “does boys and girls, you know”, and then tendency to pass out when someone wanted to pay their check, muttering in Thai and shaking his head.

A few hours later, it became pretty obvious that we were going to be delayed because the train kept stopping every 10 minutes. We could but hope that the restaurant manager wasn’t sharing his drugs with the train driver. A lovely waitress came by and served us sandwiches for lunch as we sat hunched over on our bunk beds, unable to sit up because of the low ceiling. We made a new friend, Raicay, from Seattle (!!!) and sat laughing for hours at the situation, especially when the waitress would break out into a little song and dance for no reason.

Four hours late, we pulled into Chiang Mai station, and were immediately assaulted by the afternoon heat. Negotiating a fair price for a Sorng Taa ou to a guest house, we headed into town, checked in and then grabbed another mouthwatering delicious meal.

The food in Thailand has been outstanding so far. Fresh fruit and juices, and tons of veggies in every meal combined with delicious amounts of coconut milk and spices. Its been a huge part of the experience thus far and I look forward to every meal to try something new. In fact, I intend to take a day’s cooking class (wish you were here Magda!!) on Saturday after returning from a trek.

This morning I headed out around 6am ( I know – I’m NOT a morning person, but for some reason when I travel I metamorphosize) on a solo walking tour of the city temples when the peace and coolness of the morning was briefly interrupted by a terrifying encounter with a stray dog who attacked me. I did not provoke it in anyway, he just came right at me and bit me on the leg…THANKFULLY not puncturing the skin. A saffron-robed Buddhist monk came to my rescue and hit the dog with his stick getting him off of me. It was rather unnerving but after another twenty minute walk, I had brushed it off.

The temples were beautiful and I snapped a hundred photos before wandering back to the hotel via this Internet cafe.

Tomorrow, my new Seattle friend and I are heading north to do a 3 day hill-tribe trek, staying in traditional bamboo huts with the Karen people. I’m looking forward to it and getting some cardio exercise in. I will write again on my return.

Much love, Anita