Hong Kong Stopover

17.2.08

Lazy day, having spent half of it in bed. Needed to take time getting over my crazy, sleepless time in Bangkok and also allowing my stomach to process the sheer amount of terrible food I shoveled down my neck yesterday. Suffering from a crazy night out on Khao San Road, lots of drinks and sleep deprivation all round (including a night spent with a beautiful Danish girl, Line), and for reasons unknown, I decided to eats lot of food: Thai green curry and mixed fruit shake for brunch (so far, so sensible, as it would be my last meal in Thailand), followed up by an enormous glass of coffee caramel frappe and big slice of coffee nut cake at the airport (sugar rush galore), then a chicken curry on the plane (it was free, after all) and to top it all off a McDonald’s ‘Sausage n Egg McMuffin’ and fries (at just before bedtime as well, and I NEVER go to McDonald’s). Needless to say, I gave myself a good twelve hours of hard kip as punishment, just to process all that junk.

To continue on my food theme - which Granddad has pointed at to me is a subject which has become increasingly prominent in my blog - I had a rather strange late lunch of squid balls today (which were just that: doughy, fried balls with chunks of squid inside, with some seaweed chucked on top for good measure) and a mango jelly juice to wash it down. The latter is something extremely popular in Hong Kong: these cafes have counters open to the street that sell varieties of fruit drink - mango and coconut juice are most common - each which come with small, square chunks of jelly mixed in. The straw you’re provided with is just big enough for you to suck up the tasty jelly as well as the fruit juice, though it becomes both more difficult and embarrassingly noisier as you get nearer the end.

Armed with my juice and squid, I spent the day wandering aimlessly through the pedestrian packed streets of Mongkok, located right next to my wonderful guesthouse (with free, fast wifi and en-suite facilities). I’d seen it all before, but didn’t feel like venturing out far. Actually, am looking forward to moving on, as it’s way too cold here! Supposedly the temperature is about fifteen degrees celsius, but it feels ten degrees colder than that! Brrrr.

I still can’t get over the obsession with gadgets that the people of Hong Kong have. Every other store in this part of Kowloon Island is an electronics store, each and every one of them packed to the rafters with shoppers (from morning till late night). The most popular item which is on display everywhere is the mobile phone, but also present are media players - of all shapes and sizes, some impressively tiny - as well as digital cameras and laptops. The tax free tills never stop ringing.

I’m off now to get some dinner then find a bar that may be showing a Sheffield United game tonight (thanks, Dad). Australia tomorrow...

Wee.

On the road again...

13.2.08 - 21.05

You know, I feel I may have been a bit too harsh on Ton Sai, so I’ll backtrack a little if I may? I popped there for dinner tonight - took the long, slightly treacherous route along the beaches, up and down several scrabbly slopes, across a bunch of giant rocks lining the shore and then straight through a hillside holiday resort. I noticed that, once the beaches had emptied of sun shoulder-to-shoulder sun worshippers, but prior to the time when the (all-) night-owls hit the scene and the bars begin to blare out terrible pop music, the town takes on a kind of charm. When I arrived there, people were milling about casually in the streets, idly bantering, dipping into book shops, restaurants, tattoo parlours, drinking coffee and fruit shakes, browsing market stalls. Locals and foreigners alike were playing football on the beach or in the island’s one schoolyard. A wide selection of attractive eateries were open on the sea-front, most offering a mammoth assortment of fish a la carte, all on show (I could also see - and smell - several being barbequed as I walked by).

I took the opportunity to trade in some books (I polished off the Graham Greene book as planned - surprisingly it turned out to be a photocopied book, according to the unwavering book shop owner, and so I was only offered a meagre sixty pence for it) and picked out another meaty Iain M. Banks novel, ‘Against a Dark Background’. I also bought some laxatives from the pharmacy (yes, that old chestnut) and picked up a couple of DVDs from a street stall (‘Grindhouse Death Proof’ and ‘The Golden Compass’). I settled on having dinner at a beachside Italian restaurant: penne pasta carbonara and garlic bread (didn’t want to risk them murdering my favourite, lasagna, though I oughtn't have worried as the pasta, cheese sauce, ham and bacon dish was excellent, if a little on the small side). I was still a bit peckish and, as I had to walk past the bakery to get back, I thought, why not? A delicious fresh cookie and jam doughnut soon put me to rights.

14.2.08

Killing time waiting for my ferry. Said goodbye to the room, it was emotional. The staff seem a little sadder than usual, but maybe that’s just me! It’s another glorious day, blue skies, little haze, the boats are out in full force around the bay. I’m less than thrilled at the prospect of the upcoming journey back to Bangkok - a two hour boat trip followed by a thirteen hour bus odyssey - but also excited to be on the move again. Hong Kong, here I come :)

Phi Phi Pharewell

13.2.08

Not a huge amount to report upon today. Yesterday was on the whole cloudy, the sun’s hat didn’t make an appearance and my skin enjoyed the respite. However, it was an incredibly sultry day: humidity was at an all-time high and I was drenched by the time I got back from my walk into Ton Sai.

I decided to take my usual route to the lesser known beaches, but then continuing straight past those sandy path turn offs, hitting instead a crudely built, concrete road which lead further up into the interior of the island (but still roughly in the direction of the town, I checked). The road was the size of one small lane, just large enough to fit a 4x4, which was lucky as one passed me as I made my way up. That was the only traffic I saw though. After trudging along in the sweaty heat for about ten minutes, I reached a plateau and stood looking across at a huge pit that spread off far into the distance, just to my right. I can only guess that it was intended as either some sort of reservoir, lake or dumping ground, as it was about the same size as a medium sized lagoon - perhaps half a mile in diameter - very deep and lined from end to end in a black plastic material, looking as if someone had lain thousands upon thousands of bin bags next to each other, or rather like the lining you get in a manmade pond. There were multiple levels to the crater - like shelves - and the very bottom of it contained shallow water. I could see what looked like a simple wooden raft moored up to one side of this and at the opposite end, upon a higher shelf, a scattering of what appeared to be dozens of white plastic bags, piled up against and on top of each other.

I’ve honestly no idea what this big crevice was intended for and a few Thais who were milling around could offer up nothing but their incredulity at finding me there (a few bemused grins here and there). I guessed that not many people came up that way - especially not westerners - and my suspicions were confirmed when I carried on along the road, which promptly turned into a dirt and rubble track that lead me through thick jungle, past a few run down wood buildings on stilts, half a car and then to the rear of a bungalow complex at the edge of Ton Sai, passing nobody en-route.

Ton Sai still came as a bit of a shock to me - I was expecting many tourists but not THAT many. The beaches were a blur of pink and white, where westerners left little room to breathe crammed in so close to one other, each as desperate as the next to get his or her spot in the sun. If only they’d bothered to explore the rest of the island, though I was secretly glad they hadn’t! To give it its due, the town was much bigger than I had originally thought, consisting of a large maze of alleyways, playing host to guesthouses, bungalows, book shops, restaurants, bars and cafes. A few bizarre things caught my interest: the sudden appearance of a book shop/cafe on one street corner, looking for all the world like it belonged in a shopping mall and not just off the beach; the contrast between a rundown, dirty, shanty town, hidden from view in the centre of the town, just opposite a new and very clean, well-kept park; small sign-posts indicating a ‘Tsunami Escape Route’, lining a street which lead to some steps at the foot of a hill and then seemingly to a dead-end; the left-over remains of buildings wrecked by the Tsunami, waiting their turn to be resurrected into another money-making device. Cynical I know, but when you see the sorry remains of what distinguishes this place from any other holiday destination in the world - the Thai houses on stilts, actual Thai restaurants/cafes/’darbars’, the real Thai people, anything that feels distinctly native - hidden away, shoved to one side and on the decline, it’s hard not to feel this way. It’s obvious the true motivation behind the forerunners of the new, sterile Ko Phi Phi is money, with little desire to keep its beauty or ethnicity. These people are what’s wrong with society. But then, what does that make the people who pander to it, I wonder?

So I mixed in with the masses, browsed some book stores, bought a boat/bus ticket back to Bangkok, set to leave on Thursday - I was lucky, the lady running the travel agency said that nearly all of the tickets were booked up - and had an excellent feed at the P. P. Bakery (yes, despite my above diatribe, I was drawn in, being a sucker for baked goods).

Sun’s out today, it’s early afternoon and I’m determined to finish ‘The Quiet American’ on the white sands of the ‘Last Paradise’ beach.

J

Lobster Boy

11.2.08 - 19:02

Ouch, it burns. Feels like I’ve been cooked alive today - my back is red and raw from the sun, thanks to an unintended extended session in the water. I couldn’t wait till the morning to talk about it, it was so eventful:-

Today was actually a day of extremes. It started off slow enough, spending all of the morning browsing the web, checking and replying to emails, bringing the blog up to date. Heading down to the ‘Small Beach’, I decided to put off a visit to Ton Sai for another day and venture out to snorkel at Shark Point instead.

The tiny patch of white, finely grained sand that is the Small Beach was even smaller today, thanks to a swelling tide that had come in further than I’d seen it before. Also, I’m happy to report it was completely empty. I settled down to a bit of lounging in the sun whilst having a go at getting back into ‘The Quiet American’ - having put that one to one side to read the Ayn Rand novel - in an attempt to bring my pale front torso further inline with my back. As I had predicted, that sun was hotter than ever and I was distracted from my reading by the tiny crabs - the largest the size of a two penny piece, the smallest not even half that - completely white and slightly translucent in colour, that skittled sideways along the beach, disappearing into conveniently placed tunnels when approached. I forgot to mention just how many of these I witnessed yesterday on Loh Moo Dee Beach: then, I even managed to snap a few close-up on my camera.

After about half an hour I’d taken as much direct sunlight as I could handle, so waded up to shin height into the water and pulled on my rented flippers. I noticed just how close I was to my intended destination: just a few hundred metres away lay the wide formation of closely packed black rocks that is Shark Point, the almost flat tops of which peer out of the ocean. These sit to one side of the bay - the side nearest my guesthouse - just within swimming distance of Long Beach. I didn’t realise how close Small Beach sat to it until now.

I headed out to the biggest clump of black rock: this stood at most about a metre tall out of the water, covering a large enough area for it to act like a tiny island - somewhere I could get out of the water and take a rest. The ‘island’ looked like it was made out of large clumps of coal, such was the colour, consistency and texture of the rock. Fortunately, that gave it some grip. I hadn’t really seen much in the way of corral or fish at this point. The down point of my day then arrived. A couple of young guys in a kayak pulled up, joining me. I didn’t really feel like talking, though I enquired where they had come from - “England”  came the gruff reply, as they had misunderstood - and I went on to explain how they could find some nice, quiet beaches if they followed the coastline around. They didn’t seem too interested. The one who had spoken eventually, nonchalantly, asked me what I was doing there. Not sure what to say, I admitted I was “backpacking”, to which he grunted, “same”.

There were our last words, before the two of them jumped back into their kayak and joined their other empty-headed mates messing about in the water. There was an empty feeling in the bottom of my stomach. I think Dad will know what I’m talking about - perhaps it is indeed selfish, childish and presumptuous of me - but I like to think I’m doing something new, something exciting, original, something different. I’ve ALWAYS felt that way if I’m honest and I deliberately, and often, go out my way to prove it. And my whole reasons behind this trip, what I feel I’ve missed out on ever since joining the tourist ‘trail’ in SE Asia, was laid bare before me. I was just one of many doing this backpacking ‘thing’, clueless to what it actually was, but doing it because it was the thing to do. Everything about what I was doing, especially on Phi Phi, became blatantly pointless and hollow of meaning. The sense of adventure, walking into the unknown, that had disappeared as soon as I’d left Nepal.

So, anyway, I was pretty low at this point. I decided I’d still venture out around the rocks, as I’d come this far already. It’s funny what fate throws at you. I discovered, to my delight, that scores upon scores of fish liked to congregate around the rocks of Shark Point. Below the waters, each stone was thickset with algae which drew the hungry fish in their droves. Thanks to the thrashing off the sea against the rocks, no boats dare venture near - not even the safety-unconscious maniacs that man the motorised longboats - which made fishing unlikely, meaning even more fish. I had to be careful to venture around so close to the rocks and heavy surf, but am I glad I did it. Entering a narrow valley between two large boulders, I came across the biggest concentration of large fish I’ve ever seen. Drawn together to feed and thrown about by the current like one massive entity, there must have been perhaps two hundred fish floating there, not even a metre in front of my face. There were four types I could distinguish: the silver fish seemed to stick close to the bright yellow fish, whilst the aqua blue and green fish meandered with the dark as night black fish. The latter stuck so closely together, moving so fast against each other, never colliding but always disjointed - as if panicked - that they gave the impression of a huge collection of slippery eels. By keeping as still as I could and letting the strong currents push the fish around, eventually they actually surrounded me completely, but as a whole always keeping a respectable distance of a foot or more. The mass was so thick that I couldn’t see beyond them.

The whole event was unbelievable - I hadn’t seen an underwater documentary or film so astounding as this, never mind inches from my face. I must have stood - floated - in awe for almost half an hour, enraptured. That’s probably what did my back in, but it was worth it. I was absolutely gutted I didn’t have an underwater camera, but then some things are hard to capture on film!

My journey back to the mainland wasn’t uneventful either. There was quite a lot of impressive corral surrounding Shark Point - most looking like big farms of fungus of all different shapes and sizes. There were many other schools of fish - at one point I was sure, and remain convinced, I’d attracted a group of half yellow, half blue fish - sporting dark blue, vertical stripes, that remained black until up close, and somehow they let me get SO close. Dozens of them appeared to follow me around, and I had to put it down to their attraction to my bright blue flippers. Also, I spotted a dangerously large but beautiful jellyfish. It was the size of a large boxing glove and looked like a giant mushroom: a rounded chef’s hat of a head with entrails that could have been garden weeds. It was heading straight up towards the surface of the sea, followed by a few inquisitive fish - some dared take a bite out of its bottom. It didn’t actually break the surface, but came close to it and fairly close to me. I kept a cautious eye out from that moment on.

It actually took me a good half hour more to get back to land. It dawned on me after twenty minutes that it was taking me far too long and I still hadn’t sighted Small Beach, only rocks. In fact, the rocks looked suspiciously like those I’d clambered over to get to Ao Poh’s Beach. Eventually I rounded a corner and there it was, Ao Poh, the ‘Last Paradise’, the guesthouse/cove that was the next stop after my intended destination. It took all my energy to pull myself to the shore: I’d been swimming for two hours, taking only the odd break on the rocks when I could and I’d completely skipped out Small Beach. Phew.

One more thing I wanted to mention that I’d forgotten the other day. Climbing over a few more of those rocks to get to the Ao Poh Beach, I came across swarms of these little, black insects - looking disconcertingly like thin, stretched lice - that would appear in front of me out of nowhere and scurry away back to oblivion every time I stepped on a rock. They were definitely petrified of me, but I had absolutely no wish to catch up with them. I managed to catch a few of them on video dashing away in their throngs, so I’ll make sure to show that when I get back.

Well, must dash now as it’s past 8PM and I’m feeling hungry. I’m feeling better about my trip after today, though still cautious about it. Tune in next time for more crazy adventures ;)

J

Phi Phi Phree

11.2.08

Just polished off a breakfast of French Toast at the usual, feeling extremely full and not like moving very much. They tend to have a dangerous tendency here of cooking foods in far too much butter and I have the guilty pleasure of devouring them. I ordered a delicious ‘hot plate chicken’ last night, which is meant to arrive in a sizzling hot pot spewing forth both over-the-top steam and wondrous, mouth watering aromas - that which drew me to finally order it after several nights of seeing said dish served into the hands of many other ravenous and lucky, lucky guests - but disappointingly mine turned up only with a whisper. However, it still proved very tasty - I couldn’t place the sauce, only that it had a hint of barbeque mixed with lashings of caramalised butter, naturally - and was a nice way to wrap up a day of tanning (burning?) on the beach, swimming and finishing reading the revelation that turned out to be ‘The Fountainhead’.

In the end I didn’t take up the offer of scuba diving: I didn’t take to the slightly conceited attitude of the diving teachers, nor the inflated prices - Thailand is meant to be a cheap option for gaining a diving (PADI) certificate, but it appears there are cheaper options available in Australia. I don’t know, perhaps I’m making excuses: I had in the back of my mind that I wasn’t sure I wanted to use up the rest of my days here diving and not exploring the island, plus I’m still not in a very sociable mood right now.

Having spent all of yesterday afternoon on the quiet confines Loh Moo Dee Beach - a bit busier this time, with up to ten visitors at one point - I’ve managed to acquire a nice, all-over (generally) brown ‘coat’. My plans are to try and top this up as much as possible, whilst trying not to burn myself (my back isn’t best pleased as of now). I’m going to take a walk into town to sort out my trip back to Bangkok - I’m planning on leaving for there on Thursday - and while I’m at it see if I can find some other less explored beaches. One in particular that’s grabbed my attention is ‘Rantee Beach’, as I’ve read that the snorkeling there is meant to be excellent. The owner of my guesthouse informs me you can’t get to it overland, but I’m not sure I believe him! Finally, I want to make sure I get out to Shark Point sometime before I leave.

The last couple of days have been slightly overcast, with wispy, cotton-like clouds pervading the sky, turning it white and hazy. As well there has been a slight, cooling sea breeze, helping to keep the humidity low. At night, the wind turns into a gale - it’s still warm but makes evenings really pleasant and I can sleep with the fan switched off. Today, the sun started out in full force and the sky was blue, though that ‘whiteness’ has begun to creep in again. Still, I feel it’s going to be a scorcher.

Phi Phi Part Deux

10.2.08

First really early start since I contracted the dreaded ‘lurgy’, it’s 9.30AM and I’ve just polished off a tasty banana pancake and a cappuccino at my guesthouse’s balcony restaurant. I’ve been rewarded for my promptness by receiving my usual table with excellent views of the ocean as well as an unusually strong wifi connection (hooray!). I’ve eaten a few times here the last few days, having found some of the food to be excellent (french toast; pad thai - the most popular, ubiquitous Thai dish that’s fried noodles, chilies, veg, meat and crushed nuts to you and me) whilst others disappointingly average (anything that relies on vegetables - they’re definitely not fresh, unlike anywhere else I’ve been in Thailand). The problem may lie in the size of the island: it’s pretty tiny and thus likely that a lot of food is brought in from the mainland. Amongst the hundreds of palm trees, white sand beaches, tall mountains and shallow bays, I haven’t spotted one rice plantation yet.

Having said that, I’ve only seen about a quarter of the island. It’s not very large - a few miles across - shaped like an anchor on its side - the thin strip that is the town of Ton Sai contributes the central cross-section of that anchor, my residence is on the south-eastern tip of the anchor. Access to parts of Phi Phi appear very limited, at least on first impressions. The last couple of days - since I’ve felt well enough to crawl out of bed - I’ve hired a snorkle and flippers from my guesthouse (100 baht) and set off south and west along the coastline in search of MY beach (as inspired by the film ‘The Beach’).

On Friday I walked down to the aforementioned ‘small beach’ near my resort, wearing nothing but my scuba gear, trunks and a waterproof pouch that strapped around my neck (I’ve been carrying this around since I started my trip and I’ll be damned if I don’t use it once). Padding straight into the sea, I skirted the many broken rocks that I’d walked over a few days previous, this time swimming all the way to the ‘Last Paradise’. It was definitely worth doing: I took in all sorts of beautiful corral, some arranged like deep thickets of trees, others wide as giant pancakes and flat too, though always ‘scale-y’, firm and rocklike to the touch. Most of the corral that I saw took the colour of sandstone, though some distinguished themselves by appearing bright blue.

The variety and NUMBER of fish stole the show: of all shapes and sizes, some absolutely tiny, no bigger than a finger nail - these would be swimming in great schools, comprising of hundreds of them - whilst others were large - larger than my arm - and lightning silver in colour, with thin as stalk bodies and extremely long noses. A lot of the fish were striped yellow and black and about the size of my hand. I’ve had to look this up and so am glad to tell you that I crossed paths with many ‘regal tang’ fish, as played by the forgetful character in Disney’s ‘Finding Nemo’. Occasionally I witnessed enormous flat fish, but they seemed the most shy and kept to the bottom of the reef, far from my probing eyes. Fortunately, I didn’t see any jellyfish nor sharks - though I’ve been told of a popular scuba area, known as ‘Shark Point’, where they pop up frequently. According to the locals, they’re totally harmless, so I may take the time to check that out today.

I found after half to a full hour I’d be pretty exhausted, especially as I came close to the mainland, the waters became shallower, the reef closer and my attempts to avoid brushing up on nasty, black, spiky sea urchins lining the seabed became more strenuous. However, this has proven to be okay as none of my journeys so far have taken any longer. Yesterday, having found a hidden shortcut between my bungalow and the ‘Last Paradise’ (involves cutting across through a broken fence of sorts into the top of another neighbouring resort and then through beautiful woodland down a narrow track to the intended bay), I set off from there instead, heading further south along the coast. This was where I encountered a stunning edge to the corral shelf: where the reef ended abruptly, a sudden drop of countless metres into the dark depths of deep ocean. I eventually made it to another beach, known as Ao Lo Moo Dee (as an aside, you can see a map of Ko Phi Phi here: http://www.travelfish.org/map_detail/thailand/southern_thailand/krabi/ko_phi_phi/57 - my resort is number twelve). This beach was beauty personified - my own, perfect Idaho - over half a kilometre long of pure white sands, surrounded by nothing but bamboo and coconut trees, cliffs at either end of the bay and stretching back someways onto the island, almost completely empty (bar two couples I met who’d made they way over via kayak), devoid of guesthouses (!!) and featuring a single bar at the far end of the beach (I was informed that this was ‘Jungle Bar’, though I didn’t have time to check it out).

Today I’m going to head down to the nearest diving school (one of hundreds that permeate this island) and check out the going rates. One of my ears is still blocked though, which I’m  a little concerned about. Heads up, we’ll see what happens.

Phi Phi Phlu

Wow, so it’s been over a week since my last update. I didn’t intend to write much in Bangkok - having been there couple of times before I wasn’t planning on doing much that would prove noteworthy. I’m writing now from the huge terrace balcony that makes up the restaurant/lobby of the ‘Phi Phi Hill Resort’ (it's actually pronounced 'pee pee', but don't tell anyone as that ruins my title). Sadly without wifi and also lacking electric plugs in my room, so I’m back to shuttling memory sticks to and fro internet cafes. However, if missing power in my room means having to type on this terrace, I’m not complaining. Behind my laptop’s screen, I can see quite possibly the most beautiful bay I’ve yet witnessed in South East Asia. The terrace I’m on is built high up on the top of a mountain at one end of a bay, on the north side of Ko Phi Phi Island. From here, I can see trees - mainly mango and coconut - stretching down the steep hillside which surrenders itself suddenly, violently into the bright blue waters of the Andaman Sea. The bay itself is beautiful, big and blue: it cuts an almost crescent-moon like shape into the island. Steep, limestone, tree-coated, jagged mountains jut out into the sea at either end of the bay, facing one other, which feed into a centre comprising of a thin strip of flat land that is the island’s centre (as well as its only town: Ton Sai). There are no actual vehicles or real roads on the island: the town has a main street which is only a dirt track, lined mainly with dive shops, bars and guesthouses at either side. The track ends as the land begins to climb, then one can only rely on walking along the beaches that stretch, mainly uninterrupted, along the whole front of Ton Sai all the way along to where I am now. And what beaches! These are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen: a clean, white strip of white sand, feeding into the aqua blue, almost transparent waters of the shallow bay. Interestingly, the sea remains shallow for a large part of the bay - making swimming remarkably easy - before offering up deeper waters along with beautiful stretches of coral, making Phi Phi one of the most attractive diving locations in Thailand.

Ton Sai is the lowest part of the whole island and also one place which was completely devastated by the infamous Tsunami in 2004. In fact, most of the island was - I’m told that every building here now is either new or rebuilt. The disaster does not appear to have put anyone off visiting here - it appears as popular as anywhere I’ve been in this country, especially with couples and young families. It’s most likely a top package tourist destination, further reinforced by its hiked up prices - from food to massages to accommodation, prices are two to three times that of say Bangkok. (However, it’s worth bearing in mind that considering the beauty of the place, holidaying here is considerably cheaper and more pleasant than its Mediterranean competition.) I’m harping on about how stunningly beautiful this place is, but tourism has and is ruining it. Every building is a bungalow that belongs to a guesthouse, some of these actually sit on the edge of the sand. There’s for hire deck chairs and sun loungers lining most of the large strip of beach nearest my guesthouse (known as ‘Long Beach’), as well as tables/chairs for dining and massage tables. Next to the tourists, I’ve seen little sign of natives living here, bar a couple of shacks hidden way off the beaten track inland. This is definitely not a place for mixing with the locals.  

I’m staying in an enormous bungalow (a good 12’x15’, raised on stilts and looking suspiciously like a cleverly disguised warehouse container) positioned to the side of the mountain opposing the bay, facing west towards the unadulterated ocean. It’d be pretty beautiful come sunrise if I could ever get myself up in time. Unfortunately, I’ve been sick with a nasty cold for the last couple of days: wasn’t feeling at all myself on Wednesday, then barely got out of bed yesterday. Much better today although I’m still a little distracted - excuse me then if this entry is disjointed. My illness was probably as much my fault as anyone’s: preceding this I had a delayed, sleepless 24-hr trip from Bangkok to Phi Phi, followed up by more drinks than I needed with a couple of Australian girls I met on the boat over. I’m still glad I did it though: the evening culminated in an amazing fire show at a - naturally - expensive beach-side bar (we were lounging at shin-height tables across multiple cosy cushions, watching Thais who were no more than teenagers juggling burning pins and javelins barely feet from our faces, on the smallest strip of beach, against the calming background of the dark, still ocean and twinkling lights of the clear night sky). My trip back from Ton Sai to my guesthouse wasn’t so much fun - I had boat taxi drivers trying to exploit 500 baht out of me for a 5 minute ride back across the bay (that’s a whopping £7.50, by the way) and so I trudged back overland in the direction of Long Beach, determined to make my own way. Doing this, I passed through most of the ‘party’ town, witnessing one too many horrible all-night beach bars and drunken holiday-makers - not my scene, at all - and promising myself not to bother returning to this town, if at all possible. In the dark - and with my torch - I managed to find my way back to ‘my’ beach, though not before getting lost through several resorts as well as along some unlit mud paths, across a long stretch of wet rocks and down a very steep set of ‘steps’ (dug-up tree roots and a dodgy, lose, dangling rope for support).

My journey getting to the island was pretty exciting: I almost missed the bus from Bangkok, thanks to a last min dash to the laundry to collect clothes I had forgotten about. Despite running so fast my lungs were at bursting point, when I got back to the parking lot, the bus had disappeared, my bag with it. Fortunately, after some frantic screaming and shouting, the travel company were able to accommodate me, letting me jump on the next bus and swapping to my bus later on. Having set off at 7PM in the evening, we made Surat Thani’s pier (on the east coast) by 6AM the following morning, leaving us with 2 hours to kill doing nothing before the next bus would arrive to take those traveling west - i.e. me - to the west coast of Krabi. That journey was then delayed and almost turned into a disaster thanks to the driver falling ASLEEP at one point (I only noticed our vehicle spending an inordinate amount of time in the wrong, right-hand lane, it was thanks to a more observant and thankfully loud Israeli that we didn’t end up in the bushes). After all that excitement, we turned up late at Krabi, missing our connecting boat and meaning a further 4 hour wait until we could leave for Phi Phi. Arriving to the island made it all worth it though. The sight of the wide beaches, glittering, still ocean and enormous rocky, green mountains confirmed I’d found the right place. 

One thing I really like about where I’m staying is that it offers access to both the popular ‘Long Beach’ and then also an aptly titled ‘Small Beach’. On the one occasion I’ve so far had to visit it - before the man-flu really kicked in - I arrived on the small strip of sand to be greeted by the ocean and nothing else at all. Laying back completely alone on this beach, reading my book (‘The Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand: really enjoying this magnus opus, though not quite sure why) and trying my best to get a tan was really something else. About an hour into it, I met a snorkeler coming out of the sea. He told me just how great the corral was further west along the coast, and that heading that way I’d find lots of large, empty beaches. After going for a swim, I struck out in this direction, jumping and sprawling over the huge collections of rocks that dotted the coastline. After about twenty minutes I head a small cove with such a beach, at its head the ‘Last Paradise’ guesthouse (several bamboo bungalows and a shaded bar, run by a French staff and remarkably chilled out). I spent a couple of hours there relaxing in the shade, before deciding to set off back (it was 5PM at this point and I didn’t want to risk the tide coming in and blocking my return route).

Today, now that I’m feeling quite a lot better, I think I’m going to hit the ‘small beach’ again, along with some snorkeling gear (available from the guesthouse at 50 baht for the day). Further good news: have managed to find a weak, free wireless connection at Phi Phi Hill’s restaurant. Doubt it belongs to them, but it’s better than nothing (when it works!).

Bangkok Recap

Leaving Siem Reap to enter Thailand was a big decision for me last week. I actually bumped into an old acquaintance from Laos on the day I had to make my decision - she, Melina, checked into a room only a few doors down from mine - so I had a good, long chat with her about it. She had headed from Laos into Vietnam and travelled south - overland - into Cambodia, as she hadn’t been able to find cheap tickets to fly out of northern Vietnam. This sealed the deal for me: I’d head into Thailand as planned, sticking to my original itinerary of hitting the beaches before flying to Sydney, via Hong Kong.

After a heavy night of drinking hitting the streets with Melina, I didn’t really feel up to traveling to Bangkok on the day I had planned, to say the very least. Crawling out of bed at 5AM to explain to the woman on guesthouse duty that I wasn’t ‘feeling too well’, I managed to defer my trip by a day. Hooray! The result was a day spent lounging in my favourite free-wifi cafe spot, munching on cakes, splurging on coffee and browsing the web. Lazy.

My first surprise about Bangkok was getting there. The road between Siem Reap and Cambodia’s boarder was hideous. I thought I’d seen the worst whilst in India: not so. This ‘road’ set new standards: huge craters in the road were commonplace, pockmarks and holes the norm, tarmac let alone gravel wishful thinking. I made the stupid mistake of taking a back seat in the banged up van that was our transport - positioned over the rear axle - which made the bumps even more pronounced, sending my head jumping to the ceiling on many an occasion. The second surprise was how busy Bangkok was. My last visit there - just a couple of weeks before Christmas - hadn’t even been this busy. It took me and a couple of friends I’d made on the journey over (Cassie, an Australian, and a really top German guy whose name escapes me) almost three hours to find a place. In the end we settled on a very basic place off of Soi Rambuttri. A good location but the room I shared - with its paperboard walls and thin mattresses - smelled of wee.

Rather than fuss about finding somewhere else to stay - which would have meant joining the hordes of backpackers trudging anxiously from one guesthouse to the next, at kicking out time (between 11AM and 12PM) - the following day I moved to a new single room in the same guesthouse. This came with a large double bed, very quiet neighbours and didn’t smell so bad at all.

I spent several days in Bangkok doing very little at all, other than finding out the differences between it and Cambodia: much cleaner and more modern, along with a far greater quality and selection of food, but also pricier and far more exploitative (wifi does not really make much of an appearance in Bangkok, and when it does - say in a Starbuck’s Cafe - they want paying for it; members of bar staff can prove very rude - nigh on hostile - if you use their toilet facilities without buying a drink). On the Saturday, I hit Khao San Road (Bangkok’s notorious tourist strip, consisting of all-night bars, food stalls, loud music, hulking great neon signs and dirty, cheap accommodation) with my new-found friends, then headed into town to experience ‘Pat Pong’ (a street famous for its ‘ping-pong’ shows and ‘go-go bars’). I won’t go into much detail here, but the former was as disgusting as it sounds and the latter proved a lot of fun (when myself and my German friend were invited on stage and we outperformed all the ‘professional’ dancers). All harmless fun :)