Southern Gulf Coast of Thailand

After three solid weeks on various islands, I am truly acclimated to the (slow) pace of life around these parts. We arrived mid-morning to Koh Tao and loaded our heavy packs onto our backs for the long walk around town to find accommodation. We looked at probably ten rooms before settling on one a few blocks from the beach, down a dirty alley that alternated between smelling like cat urine and rotten fish. BUT it was cheap. And we had a fan and a tiny trickle of sometimes running water that allowed us to rinse our salt water covered bodies at the end of each day. Sairee Beach on Koh Tao was a breeding ground of new SCUBA divers. Every block advertised Open Water Certification courses or bucket specials that appealed to the same demographic. The beach wasn't as nice as Koh Chang, but the food seemed fresher so we ate lemongrass papaya salad, drank Chang beers, and watched the days roll on. After two days in Sairee Beach we hopped in the back of a pickup truck to investigate the other side of the island and potentially find a new place to lay our heads. We were dropped off in a small village and told that the bungalow we were seeking (which had been recommended to Maddie by a German tourist) was a 20 minute walk down a dirt road. The dirt road turned to a beach walk, and then a major climb with our heavy packs strapped to our back up some stairs that became a trail that became less and less visable and more overgrown as the jungle became thicker. After about an hour of bushwhacking through who-knows-what kinds of poisonous plants, we retreated to the nearest beach and flagged a boat taxi for what we were sure to be a short and shameful ride to our oh-so-close destination. The taxi driver laughed when we directed him to our destination, and promptly overcharged us for a 5 minute boat ride around the corner to a beautiful and secluded white sand beach. We were glad to reach home and scrambled off the longtail boat into the ankle deep water that welcomed us. No sooner had the taxi pulled away from the shore than we saw he had brought us to the wrong bungalow! Exhausted and sweaty, we decided to investigate anyway and were welcomed by the friendliest Thai family that ran the small bungalows in the jungle. We lucked out in acquiring beach front real estate with our own porch and private bay to watch the gentle waves roll in. Later that day we discovered a paved path that lead through a jungle on a 30 minute walk/hike over a few ridges to the nearby town. We bought fresh papayas, lime and a pocketknife to slice them and consumed them leisurely with our $3 bottle of Mung Korn Thai Spirits that we mixed with our fresh fruit shakes after a sunset swim. All was good in the world. On night two at SaiThong Villa we got caught in a downpour after dining at Banana Rock Bar, the first bar we found that played reggae music and hosted a cast of Thai-hippie-rastas. It rained all night and into the next morning. We strapped our packs on, and trudged through the rain on the trail to town. I've never been so thoroughly soaked. I felt my bones pruning up as the rain trailed down my forehead to the tip of my nose and off to the saturated ground below. We treated ourselves to a special croissant and cup of real coffee (no instant Nescafe!) at the local French bakery before hopping on a ferry to Koh Pha Ngan. The ride was only an hour, but the seas were stormy and plenty of tourists were running for the bathroom or rear deck of the speeding boat to let up their breakfasts. We made it through intact. The arrivals pier at Koh Pha Ngan was crowded with promoters heckling us to come to their hotel, jump in their taxi, sign up for their boat tour. We steered ourselves away from the masses and eventually hopped in a truck bound for Haad Salad beach. My Lonely Planet described Haad Salad as "a perfect beach for those too old or cynical for the real party atmosphere of Hat Rin, but who still want to enjoy a happy hour." Bingo. We arrived between downpours and secured a bungalow 20 feet from the beach for a budget price. The shack on stilts is barely large enough to fit the queen sized bed that we share, but boasts its own private bathroom, fan AND a gorgeous front porch equip with side by side hammocks. It was easy to spend the evening gently rocking in our hammocks and enjoying our Thai beer sampler that we picked up at the local mini mart. Late in the afternoon a brief thunder and lightening storm rolled through and we chose that very moment to strip down to our bikinis and run into the ocean for a quick swim. The rain pelted us with huge drops and we were saturated before we reached the warm sea. Submerging our bodies in the warm water was the cleanse we needed after a few beers and a bit of a sickness coming on. As we backfloated in the Gulf of Thailand and the heavy drops battered our bodies, I smiled up at the heavens for allowing me this opportunity, this luck, this chance to travel and to be here now. I am so very blessed.

Night train from Bangkok to Koh Tao

I picked up Maddie at the airport in Bangkok just after midnight on Tuesday. We shared a taxi to Khao San Road with a super obnoxious American guy from Hollywood who embodied the prime example of what not to be as a traveler; rasta hippie-pants, ginger mohawk, bad tattoos, and really abrasive voice. Shameful. We ditched him after the 40 minute cab ride and had a late dinner and couple of beers at an all-night restaurant on Khao San Rd. After a fitful couple of hours of sleep, we woke up to pack and check out of our hotel and leave our bags for the day while we explored the area. A sudden monsoon downpour trapped us in a salon where we splurged on several beauty treatments. The highlight was an hour long foot massage that doubled as torture/relaxation to my ridiculously ticklish feet. At 6 pm we hopped at taxi to the train station, found our platform, car and bunk and surveyed the situation. I had heard stories about the classy accommodations of Thai trains; dining car, full-bar on board and comfy beds in which to pass the multiple hours of transport between cities. Our train was not this type. Although it was referred to as "2nd class" it began to feel more like a prison cell. We bought the last two seats on the train which happened to be top bunks right near the service station exit with a door that didn't fully close and rattled wind and hot air all night long. It was also the smoking section. At about 9 pm we had the train attendant lower our bunks into position and crawl into bed only to be rousted a few minutes later by a rude French couple who claimed that we were occupying their bunk. They rudely kicked us to our assigned bunks and we strapped ourselves to the wall with old, withered leather seat belts that served to keep us from falling onto our rude French bunk mates below. I secretly kept wishing that my bunk would collapse in the middle of the night to squish the jerk French lady snoring below me. It wasn't until I lay down that I got the full train experience: jostling, bumping, hissing and rocking, the train was the most unstable and jerky mode of transportation I'd ever been on. The florescent lights stay on blaring all night as the bumpy tracks threaten to toss you at any time. People with babies pace the isles, trying to keep their children happy. Vendors board the train selling chips, sodas, beer and snacks. The "express" train means nothing other than stopping every 15 minutes to let a vendor on or off, or pick up a drunk local for a ride home. I kept telling myself that "this will make the best story" or "stuff like this builds character" but all-in-all, I'm just glad we survived. There were several jolting moments over the course of our 10 hour journey that I was sure the car behind us was going to fall off its attachment to us and go careening into a rice field. It didn't happen, and we arrived to a bus, that took us to a ferry for a sunrise cruise to this island of Koh Tao. It's a lush jungle filled with tropical plants and endless humidity. I thought that I'd acclimated to the heat here, but the South of Thailand has me sweating profusely again. The food is more exciting, the budget accommodations are livable and the tourist industry is booming! I'm having a hard time fully giving myself to the inflated prices and ridiculous tour costs of this area, but I suppose $5 for dinner is still a good deal. Life on an island continues...

Eastern Gulf Coast of Thailand

It's day 10 of my 10 week adventure, and I am just beginning to settle in to the oh-so-slow pace of life here. After leaving Bangkok for Koh Samet with my new Dutch travel-buddy, Judith, I was thrilled to find myself stranded on an island paradise with clear, turquoise water, white sandy beaches and tons of beach-walking vendors selling their wares. We booked a room with AC, which seemed important at the time, jumped in the ocean for a dip and made some new friends. Our South African buddies, Scott and Natasha were English teachers living in Bangkok and getting out of the hustle-and-bustle for the weekend. We opted to share a "bucket" which is the Thai tourist drink that is advertised everywhere. It consists of a large plastic pail filled with ice, Thai rum/whiskey/bourbon, Coca-Cola and Red Bull. The sickeningly sweet beverage goes down surprisingly smooth when consumed via a long plastic straw, and suddenly our one shared bucket turned into two, then three. Then we were ready to find a party. A few beaches down we spotted some fireworks and heard the faint bumping bass of a promised good time. Walking along on the pristine beach in the soft break of the ocean waves, I start to feel relaxed. The tension of long travel days, and life at home seem to wind its way out of my neck and shoulders, down my arms to my fingertips and slowly and methodically float away. The beach party is in full swing by the time we arrive, and we enthusiastically join the twenty or so tourists on the dance floor stomping our feet to late 90s pop music infused with a techno beat and heavy bass. More buckets arrive, and are drained, we dance for hours, wiping our sweaty faces off on our arms, clothing and each other as we embrace. Life is grand! We dance, we laugh we celebrate this life that is ours and the blessings and luck we have stumbled upon on this journey towards perfection.

The next morning doesn't feel so celebratory. I spend the day huddled in the shade of a beach umbrella, healing my pounding head and queasy stomach with regular dunks in the salt water and my first western meal: a chicken burger. It's not very good. Judith and I make plans to leave the following day, bound for another island paradise, 3 hours farther south with a much bigger and more diverse array of activities to offer.

After a taxi, ferry, bus, another ferry and taxi ride later we arrive at Lonely Beach on the island of Koh Chang. We meet another fellow traveler on the bus. Her name is Ninke and she is Dutch as well. She's been backpacking through Southeast Asia and New Zealand for over a year and is returning to Koh Chang for her last few days before she flies back to Holland for a dreary winter at home. She leads us to a bungalow and finally I've found what I've been looking for! We sign on to share a home together for the next five days and pay 600 baht/night (about $19 US) to sleep three of us in one large and one small bed with a private bathroom and fan. We are 50 yards from the beach. Lonely Beach is backpacker central with restaurants, bars, bungalows and tattoo shops lining the streets of "downtown". There are two convenience stores, one is called 11-7 and one is called 7-Day which aim to attract the attention of Western travelers searching for a familiar 7-11mini-mart. I start to understand the Thai saying that is plastered over all the t-shirts, dresses and hats: "Same. Same. But Different." I get it now. Our days roll one into the next in a hazy flow of beach, sun, card games, laughter and delicious meals. We attend a beach party and dance in the waves until we are too hot to stand it and jump in the water to rinse of the sweat and sand of the dance floor. We explore town and find a restaurant featuring a long-haired, greasy Thai band playing Neil Young and Dire Straits covers. I think of my Dad and smile. We eat Pad Thai, and Pineapple Fried Rice, Spring Rolls, Tom Kha Gai and as many fruit shakes as we can handle. My $30 US per day budget seems extravagant and my new friends are so fun! The best part is that this dream world is real. I am really here. This is my life. This is who I am. I am a backpacker, and I LOVE IT!

Leaving Bangkok

Yesterday, I left Bangkok. When my alarm went of at 7 am I had every intention of attending a trip that I had scheduled with Jekka and friends to tour Thailand's ancient capital city and escape the urban chaos and grime of Bangkok. However, when I awoke, my bunkmate (a Dutch girl named Judith) was awake looking terrified with red, puffy eyes. She asked me if I'd heard "the news." I said that I hadn't and she informed me that the U.S. Government had put out a terrorist threat alert for highly touristed parts of Bangkok. The U.S. Ambassador to Thailand was quoted as aknowledging "a very clear and present danger." Normally, I would scoff at a report like this, blaming the U.S. culture of fear, etc, but the panic in Judith's face in combination with my own selfish desire to flee the polluted city left us running to the nearest travel agency with our copies of Lonely Planet in tow. We settled on the nearby island paradise of Koh Samet, a mere 4 hours from Bangkok, but a dramatically different (and safer) setting. Our bus left in 4 hours.

In a farewell gesture to Bangkok we opted for the uniquely Thai experience of a fish-foot treatment. The ritual went something like this: Enter a street side beauty parlor, sit on a rock hard bench and submerge your filthy and exhaused backpacker's feet in a 50 gallon glass aquarium teeming with THOUSANDS of specialized minnows hungry for your dead skin cells and hardened callouses. Attempt to sit still as the tons of sucker mouths explore your feet and lower leg region, feasting on your flesh. Try to relax. Enjoy this treatment/torture. Do not laugh. After 15 minutes of tiny squigglers swimming between your toes you are done and you pull your feet out of the fishtank to find them smooth and polished as if you had scrubbed with a pumice stone. To complete the experience, you opt for an additional 30 minute foot massage during which your legs are slathered with baby oil and tiny Thai hands rub you with surprising strength. Your treatment is complete when you are jostled out of your relaxation by several hard slaps on your thighs and calves. This signals the end of your pampering. Pay the required 250 baht, slide your grimy sandals back on your fresh feet, and head back into the city.

After our treatments we ate street vendor food for lunch: Chicken Pad Thai and a Mango-Dragonfruit Smoothie for 60 baht (about $2). We ate standing on a street corner before meeting our shuttle driver for the trip to Koh Samet (he was 2 hours late). We forged ahead through the wild and reckless traffic of Bangkok. There are 4 lanes everywhere, but people seem to drive in 6. Cars, busses, tuk-tuks and scooters share the road and as we anxiously chew our fingernails in the back of the shuttlebus, waiting for the impact, the driver seemed unphased as he demonstrates his peace of mind by putting a local Thai soap opera on the 6'' T.V. that is mounted to his steering wheel! He giggles occasionally to himself while watching the ridiculous show and flying along through the crowded and confusing masses of the urban jungle. Embrace it. This is Thailand. Several hours later we arrive at the pier and literally "walk the plank" to our waiting ferry boat. A sunset cruise to the island of Koh Samet rounds out the day. When we reach the island, we are shoved along with several other tourists and about 10 local Thai people into the back of a pickup truck with all of our baggage and driven down the bumpiest, muddiest road until we reach home for the next 3 days. "The Sea Breez Bungalows" stands 50 feet from the beach and boasts hot water AND electricity. Life is good as we settle on the beach for dinner, befriending a South African couple who are on vacation from their English teaching jobs in Bangkok. Paradise.

This morning I swam in the ocean for the first time. The Gulf of Thailand is by far the saltiest body of water I've ever been in, and even diving to the bottom is a challenge. It's hard to spend more than 10 minutes out of the water in the sweltering sun, so floating on my back in the tropical water is how I spent my day. Tonight there is a "fire show" at a club on the beach. The poster mentioned something about "fire limbo" which sounds intriguing and dangerous. I am in. Later tonight the South Africans and I are going to go night-fishing for squid from a boat tour that SEEMS legal. The guide promised a fun fight with the squid, then a cookout on a private beach away from Koh Samet. Sound amazing? Yes, please...

One night in Bangkok

Welcome Friends and Family!

Thank you for your interest in my very first travel blog. Over the next 2 1/2 months I hope to give you a peek into the backpacking world of Southeast Asia and my experience navigating the trials, wonder and humor of traveling alone through a very foreign and very beautiful region. Enjoy!

I arrived in Bangkok last night at 3 am after a 24 hour travel day of flying forward in time and crossing through two time zones. We flew over the Pacific from SFO to Seoul, where I had a few hours to walk off the 14 hour flight and prepare for the next 6 hour leg. I slept a couple of hours and deliriously boarded a waiting taxi upon my entry into Thailand. 30 minutes later and a few sentences exchanged broken English, I was dropped off on the outskirts of KhaoSan Road (aka the backpacker ghetto of Bangkok). Luckily, I had the forethought to book a room for my first two nights stay in the city of angels. Finding the room, however, proved to be a bit of an ordeal. I strapped my obnoxiously large pack to my sweaty back and started trudging through the crowded streets full of drunk tourists and hawkers stalls. I was amazed at the life and chaos of the city, even at 3 am. It felt like an "anything-goes" festival of sorts, and I was the odd man out. After an hour of aimless wandering and several sets of bad directions, I finally found my home for the next two days. NapPark Hostel had a 24-hour front desk attendant who let me in and showed me to my bed (the bottom bunk in an 8-bed female dorm). I took a refreshingly cold shower and tried to fall asleep....

6 hours later... I woke up to the sounds of fireworks and the smell of fish-sauce. Morning already? I took another crucial shower and headed out to meet up with some friends of friends who I had heard were in the area. We shared a delicious breakfast of banana pancakes and iced coffee for about $2 and made a plan for the day. A bike tour sounded fun, but after several boat rides and a walk through Chinatown, we decided the heat and traffic were a tad daunting to navigate on a rickety bicycle and instead chose to site-see. We stumbled upon Wat Pho and entered to follow the herd of tourists incessantly snapping photos of hundreds of enormous gold Buddhas in every contorted position possible. The highlight was the Reclining Buddha which stretched the length of a football field and was built of solid gold. Truly impressive. After that we attempted to take a tour of the Grand Palace but were told that our exposed legs and shoulders were inappropriate attire for such a regal atmosphere. Maybe tomorrow... Lunch was eaten standing roadside at one of the numerous street vendor stalls. I had a delicious (and spicy!) green papaya salad and meat on a stick (chicken? pork? dog?) for 40 baht (about $1.30). Now I am back at NapPark attempting to get a nap in before the chaos of the evening descends. I met a girl who shares my bunk, she's from Holland and her name is Judith. She is trying to convince me to take a train north to Chiang Mai tomorrow, but I am aching for the warm, tropical waters of the South of Thailand. Did you see "The Beach"? I want to go to there...

My first hours of Bangkok have been sweaty, polluted, beautiful, delicious and all around over-stimulating. The sights, the smells, the chaos of so many people living daily lives with the odd and random color punch of a monk clad in a fluorescent orange robe seems so absolutely contradictory, but somehow, it works. Tonight I will dine with Jekka and her friends and try to compose a plan for my exit tomorrow. She tells me that I must experience a Thai foot-massage while I am here. Apparently the highlight is submerging your dirty travelers feet in a bucket teeming with hungry minnows that chew at your callouses and filth leaving your skin soft and fresh as a newborns! Sounds bizarre and like the ultimate torture for my ridiculously ticklish feet, but I might have to try it. It's all about the adventure, right? A wise friend once inspired me by attempting to "do something that scares you" every single day. Maybe today's challenge is the foot-eating fish. Today: minnows. Tomorrow: the world.