Thale Ban National Park

Our next destination was the Thale Ban National Park which caused some doubt before we even set off, with neither of us wanting to ask how to get to the Taliban Park until we were assured that that is the correct pronunciation (I pictured some sort of an extremist theme park with rides like a suicide bomber rollercoaster etc).

Once we were sure that our pronunciation wasn't going to cause offence we started trying to barter for a songthaew (pick-up truck with two benches put in the back) ride. During an animated discussion involving myself, Monique, the driver and the guesthouse owner using a mixture of sign-language and pigeon English the driver started making a stamping movement on his hand. After some moments of confusion we decided that we were being asked if we had the requisite stamp to enter the national park (having read that there is an entrance fee). Monique and I proceeded to nod our agreement that we wanted to be taken to where we could get said stamp and after agreeing a price set off on the 45 minute journey.

All was going well and we were admiring the increasingly green scenery from the back of the truck, when the driver started to slow down to go through a check-point of some sort with "arrivals" and "departures" signed above us. We stopped, and were pointed over to the desk where the driver indicated that we could get our stamp. As we waited in a queue behind a couple of other people we started to get concerned as to why people were producing their passports. Monique made the decision to further enhance the world view of Americans as stupid, by asking an English girl coming away from the desk "Do you know why you just got your passport stamped?". We then discovered that the driver had not taken us to the National Park, but had taken us to Malasia in order to get our visas renewed!!!

As it happens, Monique needed to renew her passport and so made the most of the chance with a 5 minute trip to Malasia, whereas I admired the country from a few metres behind the border. We then persuaded the confused driver to take us to the National Park, and not on a return trip back to Satun as he had expected.

Once we finally arrived, the Thale Ban Notional Park looked practically perfect - a valley covered in dense jungle with the sound of monkeys and birds coming from all directions. We headed along the stilted path over marshland to our bungalow which looked like the nicest place we'd stayed at so far. However, the realities of staying in the jungle soon became clear.

Our first contact with the local wildlife was the discovery of a spider the size of my hand relaxing behind our curtains. Forget statistics about how many spiders we accidentally eat during our sleep - this thing could've eaten us! After some discussion we decided to check with the staff whether any of the spiders in the area were dangerous before attempting to remove it (secretly hoping that someone would volunteer to remove it for us). The very friendly and oh so smiley lady at reception cheerily informed us thet we should simply "shoo shoo it" away.

As it happened, approaching the spider to work out the plan of attack on the beast was enough to frighten it outside through a gap in the window (which we subsequently taped up). Once outside I became much braver about the whole thing and set about it with the broom from the veranda and made sure it thought twice about coming back. It did, however, cross my mind that it was only a baby and it's angry parents would then be trapped inside the bungalow but these fears turned out to be unfounded.

Having survived the worst the wild had to offer we set off to explore the local area. We hadn't long set out on one of the jungle trails before Monique started screaming at the sight of a leech moving itself along her sandel towards her bare foot (a suprising reaction from a pretty down-to-earth girl). Heroically I leapt to her defence and eventually got the ugly little thing off using a stick (not an easy thing to do as they move suprisingly quickly and attach themselves impressivle tightly). This scene repeated itself another couple of times before I suggested we turn back so Monique could put some socks on under her sandels so that we could continue. I had my walking boots on, along with socks and long trousers and so felt pretty same from harm.

Not far along our journey back, Monique's hysterics were raised to a new level as a leech had attached itself to her foot. Once again I attempted to remove the ugly little sucker, but found this more than a little tricky. As Monique veered between tears and hysterical laughter I pulled at it but found it too slippy to get a good grip on, and as soon as it slipped from my grasp it reattached the other end to her ankle. Eventually I discovered that the best technique was to use a tissue to get a grip on it, and just pull it as hard as possible until it let go, leaving a hole and a trail of blood. As soon as Monique calmed down we made our way back to the bungalow to recover.

I decided to relax by taking off my boots and sitting on the veranda, only to discover that along with a few on my trousers, I had four firmly attached to my legs, including one which was practically a balloon full of my blood. I pulled them off as quickly as possible using the tissue technique and attempted to kill them by stamping on them (I figured that Buddhism didn't stretch to leeches). It turns out that they're invincible as well as disgusting and had to settle with throwing them in the bin before attending to the bloody mess they had left behind (and having a good check for more of them in the shower after thinking about that scene from Stand By Me).

After that ordeal we decided to leave it until the following day before attempting to explore the area further and settled on enjoying the sights and sounds of the jungle from a safe distance for the time being.

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