My flight landed in Bankok, my journey of discovery began in Khao San Road. The culture shock of landing in
such a vastly different country from bonnie Scotland, did not begin in earnest until disembarking from a cab in the centre of the well known backpackers haven of Bankok, as night-time rapidly approached.
I had heeded the warning of many relatives and friends to be wary of others at the airport, (in case I had to spend my Thailand days in the darkness of a cell!) and I breezed through customs, coming in to contact with very few others. The taxi ride (metered taxi of course!), in to the centre I also found relatively simple. Upon being unceremoniously dumped from the cab in the centre of Khao San Road in darkness, I began to panic.
The first major concern was that I find somewhere to park myself for the next few days. Somewhere to offload the huge shell of luggage on my back, which made me feel about as inconspicuous as as the pink panther. Which, incidentally I would find myself being comparative to in skin colour and stupidity. After consulting my Bible, (Lonely Planet's "South-East Asia on a shoe string," which no inexperienced traveller should be without), I decided upon a plan of action, which more or less consisted of whether to walk left or right. In the buzz and hum of this area of the city it is very easy to become distracted from any task at hand. It becomes second nature to recite, "No, thanks, no Tuk-Tuk ride," even though you feel like srceaming "Just P*** Off will you!"
So I progress slowly through several streets until I come across one of the few backpacker "resorts" which is actually where it says it is in the Bible. Not, you understand that there is not an abundance of backpacker accommodation in Khao San Road - quite the opposite in fact -but, I wanted to try to find one which had a relatively good write up in my Bible. Some of them made the inside of a Thai prison sound preferable.
I enter the building warily, aiming to look cool, whilst trying to check it before I commit myself. I fail. "You cum thees way, plees," a voice intrudes. I follow meekly to be shown what I can desrcibe only as a cupboard, which I presume to be offered as my room for that evening. "120 Bahts, plees," the voice interrupts again. Glad to have somewhere to rest my already weary legs, I concede and hand over the cash. Once left to my own devices I begin to investigate the four foot square room, which has a bed with a mattress about a centimetre thin, covered, of course, in the obligatory stained pattern.
The door doesn't lock, no surprise really because I'd been warned about this and had felt exceedingly proud of myself for bringing my own padlock. Round one to me! I lock the door then get out my sleeping bag, which I strategically arrange around the stains on the mattress and pillow, then I climb in and sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow.
Fresh as a daisy I arise the next day and begin my search for the toilet. I find it easily as it is quite evidently the one with the queue, just as well really because if there was no queue I would not have recognised the ceramic pot in the ground as a replacement for the wonderful western toilet. I vowed, for the first time of many, never again to take such western luxuries for granted. Upon dressing I arranged with the woman at the desk to stay for a few more nights. Better the devil you know I had decided, after hearing the horror stories of other "resorts", from more travellers queuing for their morning relief.
I then took to the streets with nothing more than my safely hidden money belt for a companion. Such an exhilarating feeling of freedom, (and relief at not having to carry the rest of my worldly possessions), had never been mine before. Sounds corny I'm sure, but there is definitely something immeasurably liberating about strolling through the streets of a completely foreign country where no one knows who you are, and even better no one else knows where you are or what you are doing. After deciding upon a plan of action for the day, I found it quite easy to ignore the temptations of the many street markets and stalls which line the pavements and I hailed a cab to head for the Golden Triangle, and the Chao Phraya River.
What I had in mind, was a little boating trip around Bankok, which was not as easy as I had first believed. No one could help me with directions as to where to get a boat so I fell back on woman's intuition, and headed for where I had seen these bigger boats crossing the river. I bought a ticket boarded a boat with a mass of other people. Now first I should probably explain that these boats, if you could give them such an eloquent name, were large rectangular masses that floated on water - no bow or stern or anything as conventional as that - you simply stepped on from the jetty and that was that. What I didn't realise was that quite so many people would be permitted to step on to this rectangular floating mass, so many that you couldn't quite hold your footing, and the only thing you have to hold on to you is your nearest neigbouring passenger. Unfortunately in my case this was a group of Bhuddist monks, which I had been quite sternly advised by the Bible, not to look in the eye and certainly not to touch. So I spent much of the journey wobbling like a jack-in-the-box on springs with no hands and I became so concerned about this that it was sometime before I realised that the boat was not quite heading where I had anticipated. Instead of directly crossing the river we had moved quite a bit downstream as well as across, I got off when we stopped by the jetty, intending to get the next one back to my starting point, instead boarding one which continued to move further down the same bank of the river. When it finally came to a stop I got off to consult the Bible for my location, this did not work as I could not find my bearings on the map. Damn! First day and I was lost, still there was a luscious smell emanating from one of the hawkers huts nearby, and I decided it was time to eat.
Exactly what I devoured that day I am not quite sure, but it was very tasty. Meat of some desrciption,(which I had also been warned not to consume in Asia, but anyone who knows me will know that my stomach comes first and I therefore found it quite easy to disregard these kindly warnings - luckily I was never made to suffer for it, probably because my stomach has had a constitution of cast iron since birth), accompanied by green sprouting veggies in an extremely fiery sauce, which I know the locals love to feed to "farangs" - foreigners - to watch them squirm. It was washed down with copious amounts of water. On that day I was to discover that the food served from these street stalls is often far superior and often safer to that served in any restaurant. For one thing it is never reheated, you always get it cooked fresh in front of you, mostly fried in burning hot oil, and you will find them popular with locals - always a good indication of good tucker!
After lunch I became aware that I was still lost, this fact was pointed out to me by a group of several young school children who were pointing and some who wanted to touch me. It was at this point I began to look around me and take stock that I had traversed well out of the bounds of backpacker land as I could locate no other evidently foreign backpackers such as myself. Time to get back on the trail I thought, freaking myself out as I noticed increasingly the intimidating stares from the locals. I boarded the next shuttle-boat-thing across to leave from the jetty and was pleasantly surprised when it took me all the way back to my initial boarding point. Voila! It was then that I noticed what I had been searching for initially - the little motorised kayaks which you could rent to take you on a tour of the Chao Phraya river.
I was then approached by fellow backpacker, evidently more experienced than I, who suggested that we should share the cost of one of these boats in order to prevent us getting ripped off any more than we were going to get ripped off already. I agreed instantly and after a few minutes bantering (during which I remained silent and let my new American friend do the talking), we set off at a phut, phut speed around the pongy Chao Phraya river and its tributaries, firstly visiting the unique Wat Sai floating market. Along the river banks, there is a striking contrast between poverty and riches. Behind the river children, playing around in the dark brown water, sits their mothers washing their clothes and dishes, whilst from their many homes erected from wood on sticks, pours sewage and filth. Rising up behind these poverty stricken homes, you can see the glittering skysrcapers and queuing amongst the bridge traffic you can spot numerous flash cars - here there are many, many more BMW's and Mercede's per 1000 metres of road, than anywhere in Britain. There are also many, many more pollutants per cubic metre of air and the air is choking. The river boat journey was an excellent way to see inside the city and I would recommend it to anyone, not too afraid of boats.
My second day in Bankok I spent being smug as I felt I had easily mastered my navigation of the city. I managed to visit many of the recommended attractions including the Wat Phra Kaew, Wat Pho and Wat Traimit temples, and the spectacular Grand Palace. The Temple of the Golden Buddha is by far the most and memorable. The statue of the golden buddha, dwarfs the memories of all the other buddha's I saw, not surprising, since it stretches for around 60 feet in length, and dazzles you with its brightness.
Something more interesting, for many I'm sure, is the racy area of Pat Pong markets. I found being a woman in Bankok relatively simple and apart from some harassment from Tuk-Tuk drivers (it has to be said!) and occasionally from stall owners, it was easy for me to relax whilst strolling around. Patpong markets proved to be a highligh to my stopover in Bankok, not because of the unfortunate go-go bars surrounding, but because of the extensive ranges of goods. Over the next couple of days I spent the rest of my time bargaining with stall owners and haggling over the many items which I was to purchase to replace many of the original contents of my backpack. Only because I bought so many clothes I had to throw out some old ones to fit the new ones all in. I must admit to being in shopper heaven, admittedly all fake goods, but gee there were some good fakes!
After only four days in Bankok I had tired of the hustle, bustle an pollution of the city and I departed along with my pack of worldly possessions - which had now increased dramatically in weight. First I had another challenge to encounter, namely Bankok central railway station. I entered with bravado and can remember standing rooted to the spot, stunned for at least five minutes. I was aware of all the degenerated hanging around outside , but for not one moment did I think there would be multiplied numbers inside! Apart from which there were more ticket counters than at London Kings cross, and of course all the signs were in Thai, so I discovered were the timetables, not much help there! It was while I was debating my options that a friendly young soul came up to me and asked if I needed help. Immediately suspicious I srcutinised him carefully and the tag round his neck which said something about Tourist Information, so I conceded to accept his kind offer. I was then escorted outside and across the road to a small office which turned out to be a travel agents. Well his offer of help may not have been out of sheer kindness, but, let me say more like "mutually advantageous" to us both. While I discovered the ease of organised backpacker bus travel for just a fraction more than scumming it on the train, he would have been pleased to earn his scouts percentage for my booking. Only problem now was I had to decide "where do I go?"
The promise of a full moon party swung it! I was off to Ko Phangan, after may I add a 4 hour wait for the bus with my trusty luggage. The journey to Ko Phangan, a small as yet fairly undeveloped island in the gulf of Thailand (where the movie "The Beach" was recently filmed), involved sitting on a bus for around ten hours - it takes a long time to go very little distance in South East Asia - followed by a ferry ride departing at 5 am - they like ugly departure times in South East Asia- which took another 5 hours to complete, (and eight to get back, but that's another story!). The ferry was absolutely crammed full and there was a choice between sitting for the duration, below deck on a hard plastic seat with your luggage on your knee, or finding a spot on deck where you would not burn in the oppressive, humid, heat. I being of fair, Scottish skin, opted for the seat below deck, which you understand was not air con, but, if you sat at a window, opened it wide and stuck your head up close to it, you would obtain a similar effect. Apart from the ferry being filled to the gunnels with people, it made very disconcerting noises as it clanked its way through the water, and I couldn't help worrying about it sinking. Three months after my crossing, I was to discover a ferry on the same route, owned by the same company, had in fact sunk, with tragic consequences.
Upon arrival at Ko Phangan, I was greeted by many touts representing the different backpacker resorts on the island. When I say backpacker resorts, bear in mind that the island has only one hotel, and the type of resort to which I am referring is generally bamboo huts - ones the same as the other hey? Well for no reason I can particularly remember I picked a songathew (these amazing four wheel drive jeeps they use to taxi us around - amazing because they manage to cram about twenty people in to the back on one, well including the roof), which was headed to the far side of the roughly 8000 populated island. It was a good choice, although this was not apparent upon arrival.
I remember acting like a spoiled brat when I discovered the numerous inconveniences which had been forced upon me. The toilet situation I had become accustomed to so a hole in the ground was no surprise there. The shower situation was a new one on me, if you could call a cold tap with a piece of plastic tubing attached to it, a shower. I then discovered there was one songathew a day in to "town" (town being where the ferry had arrived, which had perhaps six shops and of course the hotel), and one back, not that there were any constructed roads to make the journey on. Of course, there were no telephones, no television or none of the conveniences of the modern day world, in fact there was only electricity between the hours of 6pm to 11pm. I only discovered this upon having an early first night and waking up to be stifling hot because the fan had switched itself off, stumbling over with my torch to turn it back on and finding that the lights did not work either. No there had not been a power cut, I was informed the next day, that was normal. Ever tried shaving your legs from a tap, with a hose attached to it, in the dark? It's not easy, believe me! No I did not go German, I persevered.
I have not yet even begun to mention the abundance of friendly insects which greeted me. The most numerous, without a doubt, were the mutant mosquito's. While I did not become infected with Dengue like a fellow traveller, I did have an allergic reaction to most of the insects which dared to bite me throughout the layers of DET I slapped on myself. The end result being that I resembled something like a target with protruding red lumps emanating from most exposed parts of my body. I don't even want to mention the itching factor! The other friendly insects I discovered were the giant cockroaches, which upon trying to kill, decided to fly towards me. Up until that point in my life I had not been aware that cockroaches could fly. I made sure the rest of the island could know this immediately by srceaming at the top of my lung capacity. Less intimidating were the geckos which would let me know it was time to rise every morning, by crowing in my ear, loudly. Likewise, the fat, round, psychedelic toad, which resided under my shower/tap and went "r-r-r-ribbut" every time I caught his view and last but not least my respected friend the huge, hairy spider, which also shared my hut. We earned each others respect by staying as far away from each other as possible, until one day he decided to run towards me very quickly and disappeared. He broke my trust and I spent the night sleeping in a hammock strung between two palm trees in the great outdoors, covered with my faithful mosquito net. I then discovered how pleasing it was to sleep outside with a cool breeze coming in off the sea and no bed bugs eating you alive. I remained an early riser, however, as the sun gets hot quite early in Ko Phangan.
I did mention how I acted indignant, like a spoiled brat, upon my arrival on this island, yet faced with all the above traumas who could blame me? In spite of all these factors, which would surely make any sane person leave, (or rather not be stupid enough to go there in the first place), I now look back on Ko Phangan, with the fondest memories I have of anywhere encountered in my travels.
I have not yet touched upon the remoteness of my beach at Great Bay, the one which I stepped out on to in the morning, extremely shocked if anyone else could be seen in view. There were many travellers passed through Great Bay, only a few lingered a little longer, and during the quite times, the island was sheer magic. There is a shallow stretch of water for a bit, in which temperatures are warm enough to imagine you are bathing at home, in a hot bath. On the other side the bay continues to a point where it meets rocks protruding from the sea to the shore. In these rocks there can be found a myriad of sea creatures, and just past them out to see begins the coral reef, where much time can be if you appreciate the beauty of marine life. In fact, it is easy to understand why the locals refer to their home as "Paradise Island."
Even inland, the island has its hidden treasures with scenic waterfalls and beautiful hill walks amongst the palm groves. (These walks alone should say something about the beauty of this place, as I am not often tempted to do anything which remotely involves climbing uphill, but in the case of Paradise Island these climbs were well always well rewarded). Every hill had a fantastic lookout, and every beach was a stunning sight. Nearby my hut, there was a path which branched off towards a large freshwater lake, with crystal clear waters which we used to swim in often. Anyone who was there with me, will remember me as the one who forgot to let go of the rope swing, and swung back in to the tree. (It did hurt by the way!) Everyone I spoke to at Great Bay also felt drawn to the magic of the island, that was if they managed to get over their initial impressions, (this was usually aided by some of the local weed, or a mushroom omelette, courtesy of our friendly chef, Loong.)
The residents of this tiny island were welcoming and charming. I will always remember Loong for the fantastic meals he prepared, and for the many treats he would bring me during the course of my days there, there included succulent pieces of pineapple, and watermelon, coconut ice, pop-rice and so on. (Thank you for your hospitality Loong, I hope you get your wish that Ko Phangan is never developed and ruined like its neighbour, Ko Samui.) Likewise shall I never forget Pong the practical joker who never failed to see the humour in throwing dung beetles at me or the story of how he got two scars on his head. How many people are unlucky enough to be hit by a falling coconut - twice? Once whilst travelling at speed on a moped? I don't know of any others either. (Thanks for the shot of your motorbike, it was just a pity I didn't have the brains to use it.)
So in telling you the story of Ko Phangan, I forget to tell you the reason I began my time there, the infamous full moon party of course! It was a night like no other, for many reasons, but for which I blame the Mae Kong whisky, be careful on this stuff folks, it puts a Scots woman to shame! I arrived on "the" beach of the party amongst trails of other travellers, who seemed to be emerging from everywhere. There were countless boats pulling up on the beach from neighbouring islands and the number of people present on the island had multiplied exponentially. The whole beach was decorated with nets, bottles and other artifacts, sprayed in florescent colours to reflect the lasers and flashing lights emanating from the beach fronts, and every hundred yards the bassline you were listening to would be drowned out by a new one, which would take its place in the claim for attention. The whole night became a bizarre spectacle of revellers partying as hard as they could, a mix of different cultures and languages which all became one. The music went on through the night, until one by one the party-goers dropped and the sun came up, sending us, like vampires, back to our huts sleep. I dare say my friend Susie could tell you a lot more about that night that I can, (apart from the bits you slept through Suse) but at risk of incriminating myself further I shall stop there. I would recommend Ko Phangan, and its full moon party to anyone, not too afraid of ferries that is!
From my long blissful days in Ko Phangan I departed finally, very sad to leave, heading for the island of Ko Samui. Ko Samui is everything Ko Phangan is not, it is the Ibiza of the Gulf of Thailand, just like any other developed holiday resort around the globe, with no charm of its own and no special memories apart from my disillusioned arrival. For this reason I do not have any tales worth sharing from my week long stay in Ko Samui.
From Ko Samui I decided it was time to move on to a new country and once I reached the mainland at Surat Thani, I started out on the 400 km road journey towards Penang, Malaysia. Only I forget, travelling this kind of distance in Thailand takes time, and patience. Having disembarked off the night ferry at the ungodly hour of 4am I found myself having to wait in an empty, dark, marketplace, where I am told the bus will arrive at 6am. Trying not to notice the rats running around becomes difficult when one decides to start crawling on your luggage. Nevertheless, I put on a brave face and ignore the rats easily compared to the sleazy Thai guy who claims to be my bus driver, luckily the locals have begun to open the markets by now and I do not feel too intimidated. There always seems to be nice people around in Thailand and one woman comes over to give me a can of coke (unopened, I may add, in case you do not think I am being paranoid enough). Finally, the bus arrives, or rather the minibus which would normally seat seven people arrives, although the Thai's seem to think you can always cram a few more on and we spend the next hour trying to pick up another two travellers who want to go to Hat Yai. That's the border stop before Malaysia and that's also where everyone gets off. First I knew! I told the driver I had booked to Penang, apparently this doesn't matter because the driver had no intention of going there for one person, whether I had booked or not. So I have no choice, but to wait several hours for the next bus. I have one look at the gritty streets of Hat Yai and decide I'm better off waiting in a café, where I spend the duration praising my patience, or rather cursing my stupidity. Finally, another bus arrives and I jump on enthusiastic to begin a new part of my adventure in Malaysia.
