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Published: January 21st 2014
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Since Yvon's arrival at new year (non-eventful other than the bar we were in setting light to itself with fireworks) we have adopted lanta as an unofficial home. Other than a luxury short break on the Thai East Coast I've now been here a month.
A change is as good as a rest they say, and our relentless regime of eating, drinking and relaxing started to take its toll, so we decided to take a vacation to the Malaysian island of Langkawi. The journey from lanta involved a 5 hour mini van drive and an hour by ferry. When Yvon and I travel I always seem to get the worst seat- this occasion seemed no different when I was allocated a 5cm space at the back between a large German and a stack of luggage, and she rode up front next to the driver. Imagine my surprise when during one of the regular arbitrary stops made by the van (dropping off shopping/picking up laundry/delivering mail/carrying out routine vehicle maintenance- why go from A to B when you can stop at X, Y and Z first?) Yvon asked if we could swap places. Having spent two hours practically perched on a
strangers knee systematically being poked in the face by a bulky rucksack I agreed without hesitation. I soon realised my error- our driver (possibly addled by the super strength red bull he chugged relentlessly) seemed to be under the delusion that he was taking part in an f1 Grand Prix. Sweating profusely not from the dodgy air con but a mixture of adrenalin and terror, it's a wonder I managed to drop off to sleep- imagine my confusion upon waking to find us on the wrong side of the road moments from a head on collision, the situation replicated exactly on the opposite side of the road as the car we were overtaking seemed about to smash into the car overtaking the car that we were about to smash into. Make sense? No. Basically, four cars driving at each other really really fast. Our own little Michael Schumacher (Inappropriately timed reference but you get the picture) interpreted "Reduce speed now" signs as an incitement to floor the throttle and not ease off under any circumstances, especially to avoid pedestrians crossing, tuk tuks pulling out and when approaching busy intersections. He had an aversion to gears one, two and three like
a child trying to avoid gaps in the pavement. However, we survived. I am now an avid fan of air travel.
So, Malaysia, hmmm. Had I arrived directly from the UK I would probably be wowed by this tropical island , I felt ungrateful that I wasnt really impressed and couldn't wait to get "home" to koh lanta. That's what happens when you've been spoilt by thailand for the last couple of months I suppose. Having to observe and respect the cultural requirements of a Muslim country wasn't the problem (although the "chicken sausage" is an abomination which shouldn't be allowed by any religion), but there are other minor annoyances that grate. It smells. Not just a mildly unpleasant odour that provokes one's gorge to rise, but a foul reek that threatens to project said gorge without warning out of one's mouth and splatter on the pavement. It's confusing converting the currency- ringgit (unofficially dingbats, ringdings, jamrats, dingalings- I can never remember) in and out of baht, sterling and euros. Things are illogically priced. There are 4x4s and motorbikes on the beach. Langkawi is in the middle of a period of rapid "progress" I.e it's a building site. It's
primarily a holiday destination for rich mainlanders, Indians, Chinese and Arabs, interspersed with European backpackers and loud Australians, which makes for a weird cultural mish mash.
Anyway, we still managed little pockets of fun. If you choose carefully and avoid the tourist restaurants the food is cheap and delicious. Excursions are expensive, but we treated ourselves to a trip island hopping, highlights of which should be televised to advertise the importance of Eco tourism (thousands of boats visiting tiny island paradises turning the air blue with petrol fumes). Island hopping turned out to be the highlight of my Malaysian foray due to an unforgettable exchange involving Yvon and a monkey. I have so far avoided Thai boxing (muay thai) which is extremely popular in these parts. I'm vaguely curious but have read some awful reviews and I have better uses for £20 than spending it on watching children kick each other in the head. I was utterly thrilled when I was treated to the spectacle of an impromptu bout from the equivalent of the best ringside seat. In the red corner- Yvon from holland, inexperienced but tenacious and determined. In the blue corner, the clever Malaysian monkey, small but
very very strong. The prize- a pink Glastonbury bag containing Yvon's purse. The monkey was at an advantage- he had the element of surprise in his armory. Yvon was walking along minding her own business completely unaware she was about to participate in a monkey Muay Thai title fight. Monkey was stock still on a post as we approached such that we didn't notice him until he launched himself onto Yvon with full force. Afterwards she said she wondered why a cat had jumped on top of her and why it wanted her bag so badly. I could only look on helplessly, lamely shouting "monkey!" Through tears of mirth. The fight was fast- monkey looked like he had the upper hand as he began to reel the bag in. Yvon admits to considering throwing in the towel, worried that he would seal his victory by sinking his horrible gnashers into her arm and pulling out her hair. The crows behind hissed and booed at monkey , spurring Yvon on. She found the strength to swing monkey (attached to the bag) around her head until she dislodged him. Once I had recovered from debilitating laughter I realised that monkeys friends were
gathering and Yvon risked her undefeated status if we hung around.
So we made it back to lanta in one piece and with all our luggage (looked unlikely at one point). This is truly a wonderful place. At first I felt some pressure to keep moving and to see as much of this country as possible, but it's really not just laziness that stops me from trying to cram in as much as possible. Lots of people are on the move every couple of days but relentless mini van and bus travel is tiring and boring. It's nice just to be in one place and immerse yourself in island life, making friends and having conversations which go beyond the small talk of where you are from and where you have been. We've sussed how to live inexpensively - this involves two meals per day and becoming intimately acquainted with the best bar (the mini mart) and restaurant (pad Thai man and his friend burger man). There is hilarious live music every night which normally involves a dreadlocked Thai man making up words to English songs. Sharing a bungalow with an enormous swede (Erik the Viking) keeps accommodation costs to
£2 / night. It's hot, the water is warm and the massages cheap. Perfect.
Podometer: masseuse asked me when my baby was due. Enough said. I'm gonna need my own fucking ferry to get me off this island.
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Steph Cass
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At Last!
Highly anticipated blog....did not disappoint! Hilarious x