Thursday 1-Feb-07
We spent the day in the safe shallows of our bay getting used to the snorkeling equipment - Ellen's first time and mine since childhood. We coughed and spluttered plenty at first but soon got used to it, and even near the beach saw some beautiful shoals of fish of every shape and colour, and the most amazing giant clams: purple-lipped with iridescent green interiors. with some trepidation we agreed that we were now ready for a boat trip out to the reef itself, and so signed up. I just about had time to fit a snooze in before tea, a good warm-up for a really good, deep sleep afterwards.
Having managed to fit in at least 3 snoozes yesterday I still slept like a log, waking just about in time for breakfast. Maybe its because I haven't had caffeine for over a week, or maybe because I am on a beach and therefore 'allowed' to relax, but I am sleeping like a baby and always happy to drop off for a nap at any time. And so I do after breakfast, before a last-minute snorkel practice before the afternoon trip, and for one young chap it was a very good thing that I did hit the water. I was passed by 2 lads on a kayak being a bit boisterous when out jumped one of them soon followed by the other. Much shrieking and splashing about made me curse them for disturbing the water and fish until I heard, garbled but clear enough, a plaintive 'Please, mister, please hep my friend the novice'. I looked up and just as in the famous poem realised that merry-making they were not: one guy was trying unsuccessfully to keep his friend's head above water and it was all getting a bit frenetic so I swam over, grabbing the drowning man at which point his friend thanked me profusely and let go. Charming! While he was relaxing I had his panic-stricken mate to deal with, who had clearly chosen the 'flap around madly and try to remain fully submerged' tactic to aquatic survival. Eventually I decided on a head-lock and a swift punch to the kidneys which seemed to do the trick, and was then able to lift him clear for long enough to slap him on the back thereby producing the desired jet of water from the lungs. Just like a stone carp in a water-fountain, I though, but at least he's still with me. Feeling rather pleased that my life-saver's badge (age: 12) had finally come in handy, and amazed that I still remembered what to do, I rolled him over, got underneath and swam to shallow safety while Ellen rescued their boat and brought it over (they don't call us Accident and Emergency for nothing you know). 'Sorry, thank you, very very thank you; I am first time snorkel'. 'Really?', I asked incredulously, before wondering if I had time for a quick snooze before lunch...
At 2 the boat came and took a dozen of us out to the beginning of a big reef. On with the gear, and after watching everyone else smoothly back-flip over the side I half-slither half-trip over into the water and rather unceremoniously present myself to... another world entirely.
The water is so clear that on a good day visibility is up to 40 metres, and the reef so shallow that even with a snorkel all an be seen. I was in no way prepared for the sights before me and can't adequately describe them. I saw forests of psychedelic coral, some smooth and bulbous, others complex fractals of spikiness but all incredible hues of blues, reds, greens and yellows. The number and variety of multi-coloured fish was overwhelming, with shoals of 100's of fish passing straight through us. Big purple fish stopping by some cleaner-wrass for a quick wash, vivid scarlet jellyfish, huge angel fish with ribbon-like dorsal fins stretching away behind them, parrot fish, tiger fish, and so it goes on. My mind was well and truly blown and can well understand the addiction that takes hold of divers and snorkelists.
Saturday 3-Feb-07
Dreamed of fish! Woke late, snoozed all morning on the beach and spent the afternoon walking a nature trail to the other campsite through primary forest that was incredibly lush, and it was amazing to see monkeys just going about their everyday lives in the branches. Walking back along the beach in time for tea we saw some boats belonging to the Moken, the sea-gypsies that live on a settlement on the island directly to the south of us. Truly dispossessed in that they have next to nothing and are not even legitimised by being formally recognised by the Thai government they nonetheless spend their days within a rich (albeit highly endangered) cultural tradition based on the sea that has been slowly shaped by the centuries, not really touched by the modern world too much. They smile, laugh, relax and are pretty outgoing when they come to the north island to trade with us corralled tourists; for me they are still further testament to traditional ways of life, and to how mistaken the good intentions of development agencies are, coming like missionaries before them from the west and who equate poverty with a problem to be resolved, who think that American style modernisation is the only cure. Long live the Moken, and I hope not to visit them at all during my stay.
Sunday 4-Feb-07
We took a boat out in the morning but it was very choppy: Ellen got sick and visibility was down to around 10 metres. for some reason our boatman thought we would most like to visit an area of dead coral populated by scores of very annoying jellyfish but despite his best efforts I did find some live reef, home to typically pretty coral fish. One of the other snorkelists saw a black-tipped shark and I saw a barracuda which was very exciting, my biggest fish to date. On the boat back the others were glum because of the conditions but as I am new I don't know any better; I loved just drifting around submerged in this other alien world. Everyone keeps on about wanting to see sharks and sea-turtles but for me the coral itself is enchanting, along with the myriad of bright patterned fish that rely on it.
This afternoon I just found time for a snooze between lunch and dinner, as well of a couple of highly successful games of munchkin. Its a hard life but I'm coping.
We have realised with our usual perfect timing that we should be entering China at Chinese New Year (Spring Festival). Very interesting and all the rest of it, but problematic in that it is 1 of 2 times in the year when around half of the 1.2 billion population decide to travel to the countryside/ relatives/ beach/ city. In a word: gridlock, and train tickets become rarer than hen's teeth. This may mean we have to cut short our time here, maybe leaving as soon as the day after tomorrow. Let's hope common sense doesn't prevail: it hasn't done so far on the journey so I don't see why it should start now.
Monday 5-Feb-07
I stuck my head outside the tent, still half-asleep, and came face-to-face with a monkey (a pig-tailed macaque). 'This is not Stroud' I told myself decisively as I watched it amble up the nearest tree and scratch its arse ('or maybe it is'...) and spent my refreshingly cold shower listening to tropical birdsong while contemplating the gentle milky first light of another day in paradise. The mornings' snorkel session was sans Ellen as she was still a little rough, and in fact she made the right decision: the sea was really choppy and even I struggled to make it back to the boat against the current on one occasion. we had gone to a place noted for sharks and the obsession that takes hold of my fellow divers became evident again: on coming back into the boat the others noted a cut in my leg where blood was pouring out. 'Quick, blood' they quipped, 'stick his leg overboard to draw the sharks in!'. I'm not entirely sure they were kidding, maybe it was the way they salivated.
Ellen did come on the afternoon trip and thanks to Aussie John's sea-sickness tablets she loved it. The winds has slowed right down and the sea was clearing nicely: together we found a really beautiful clear shallow reef with amazing sea-life, and so inevitably we made the decision to not leave tomorrow; just one more day so we could take advantage of the glorious conditions. Phooey to common sense and 3 hurrahs for adventure on the high seas!
By the evening having done 2 trips I was exhausted, and by a stroke of luck the telly in the cafeteria was showing one of my favorite movies: In The Name Of The Father. The English establishment portrayed in all its finest glory, and Pete Postlethwaite turning in yet another 'good man dying' performance.
Tuesday 6-Feb-07
I got wind of a possible unscheduled 2nd boat for the morning that may try to reach Ao Chaok (Jak Bay), reputedly splendid reef but tricky to reach in choppy weather so not visited for a few days. Luckily conditions were perfect so the trip was on, and we stopped on the way at a small island that must have found the only strong current for miles around and which had not yet cleared. However there was lovely coral, plenty of stunning purple crown-of-thorns starfish, and best of all, unbelievably, I spotted a shark! It completely took my breath away: it was a beauty, a reef shark around 2 metres long and bulky with it cruising about 3 metres below me. We swam together for what felt like forever but was maybe 10 seconds if I was lucky, before with the subtlest flicks of its tail it sped off to my left. I really hadn't got the hype around sharks before, always wondering what was so wrong with the other fabulous sea-life, but when I did have an encounter it was literally awesome: they have such a majestic presence and it felt like being beside a god. Maybe it was the way they are so perfectly adapted to their environment, maybe it is their gracefulness despite the large size, but somehow I know that my life changed then in some subtle way.
Jak Bay itself was very pretty, like an underground garden of coral teeming with life. Near the end of the session I saw a sea-turtle (looking back through the reference book at base it turned out to be an endangered hawks-bill turtle). I've no idea how old it was but it looked ancient and quite a size: its shell was just over half a metre in diameter and it was just doing its own turtley thing. I was able to float above it for a couple of minutes just observing before it gave a deft flip of its fins, taking off at a pace that was in no way hinted at by its slothful, crusty appearance. I have heard that they can take care of themselves pretty well too, and that it would be a brave or foolish shark that tried its luck.
Elated and tired I nonetheless went out on the afternoon boat, as this would be my last chance - we really do have to head back now. I must say that from our sun-drenched beach the prospect of rushing up to Urumqi, currently at -16 degrees C, is not exactly appealing but needs must and I'm sure the adventure will be a good one.
Wednesday 7-Feb-07
It takes precisely 5 paces from our tent to the beach, which apparently owes its perfect softness to the fact that it is largely fish pooh: they eat the coral and turn it into this glorious white powder, knowledge of which has not dampened my enthusiasm for it at all; indeed, would that I could do the same with curry.
At lunchtime we left paradise and new friends for a day of varied travel: a boat to the mainland, bus to Chumphon an a very late overnight train to Bangkok. I was sad to leave the beaches and the timelessness that belongs to small island life but with batteries now fully recharged the promise of new adventures along the silk roads rives us on. We manage to get sleeper tickets and so the now familiar gentle rocking of the train lulls me to a deep and happy sleep.
Thursday 8-Feb-07
As we approach Bangkok my feelings for the place couldn't be more different than when we came through over a week ago: because of our rush to get across the Chinese border in time we have only allowed ourselves until tomorrow evening in the capital and now ironically I am ready for a taste of the big city. I am frustrated that this leaves us such little time, not even enough to scratch the surface, but this is a feeling I will have to get used to as we race home trying to make up time. Gone are the lazy days of slow exploration: now is the time when we shall see the promise of adventure whizz past us as we speed on; I will have to view this as a reconnaissance mission that will shape a future journey for I am sure that infuriating, chaotic, irrational, vibrant and highly addictive Asia hasn't seen the last of either of us.
Arriving, we land on our feet once again. Heading straight for the heart of the action, Banglamphu district, we came to Lampha House, an oasis of courtyard-ed tranquility and a tip from the lovely Helda from Norway via Koh Surin. Alas they were completely full, but thanks to a 2 hour delay on our train we had arrived precisely at check-out time and a 5 minute wait resulted in a very nice and improbably cheap room for the night. It was lucky I didn't check my email before turning up, else I would've found the message from them saying not to come because they had no places left. The people arriving immediately after us were turned away, saying that every room was now booked solid until March. March! Lady luck watches over us once again, and I can thoroughly recommend this perfect guesthouse should you be wanting to live it up in Bangkok any time.
We spent a delightful evening in the company of a good friend and ex-colleague Tiffany, along with her convivial husband and work-mates. The restaurant was called Cabbages and Condoms and existed in order to promote AIDS awareness, and unlike you would expect from such a place in England it turned out top quality authentic Thai food: my black mushroom and tofu curry with red rice was heavenly. Of course it was great to catch up with an old friend of the kind where it felt like we had only seen each other last week. I was happy to see her enjoying life so much and not surprised to hear that there were no plans to return to England any time soon. Although nothing was said, and certainly she was looking as svelte as ever, I wouldn't be at all surprised if the world was graced with little Tiffanies before too long.
Friday 9-Feb-07
Woke late (surprised?) and spent a very relaxing morning writing postcards in the courtyard before visiting the Grand Palace, a huge and dazzling array of stunning temples, buildings and statues. My main reason for going was to see the fabled Emerald Buddha which I had heard a lot about in Laos. It is a sacred treasure with many histories to suit many points of view, but what is known is that it is made of jade and not emerald, it came to Laos from the Chiang Mai region when that area became united by marriage with Laos, and for 200 years became the symbolic heart of the nation until it was stolen by a sneak-thief of a Thai King amongst much pomp and ceremony, and taken to Bangkok where it resides to this day. The Buddha was tiny and extremely beautiful, currently draped in its Cold Season garments which made me laugh: its sweltering today and very humid; I'd hate to be here in the Hot or Wet seasons. Nonetheless it was wonderful to see the artifact in such good condition, and I'm happy to report that the Thais take as good care of their stolen plunder as we do in the British Museum.
The tantalising glimpse we have had of Bangkok, and Thailand in general, has been wonderful. I had worried that I might find a kind of dystopic future Laos and to some extend Thai life does seem to to be given over to commerce and the pursuit of the American dream. I'm sure much of life's richness has been lost here but despite all this most people smile, and if someone fails to sell me something they still go on to help where they can. The persistent personality cult of the king has ensured a continuity and preservation of Thai culture and spirit that a republic could not have managed, and this is echoed in the brilliant vibrancy on the streets of Bangkok. I would love to return one day to explore this country properly but for now, Laos here we come (again).