Advertisement
Published: February 5th 2006
Edit Blog Post
‘Whose bright idea was it to go and check out Ang Thong National Marine Park?’ I thought to myself as I scraped myself out of bed at 6.30 in the morning. Oh. That would be my bright idea. That’s the problem with traveling by yourself - there’s no other bugger to blame.
The last time I went to Ang Thong was just after the film ‘The Beach’ had been released - this is where it was filmed. It was such a disgrace, all the untouched paradise had been practically destroyed by irresponsible camera crews, and the thousands of tourists who flocked to see a famous place. Don’t quite understand why people do that, they’ve seen it already! The water was full of plastic bottles, crisp packets marking high tide on the sand, it was just awful, I didn’t dare venture into the sea for fear of what I would be treading in. So I thought I’d check it out now, see if they’ve cleaned it up as much as they say. And, thankfully, it’s now pristine again. Mostly due to the Thai Marines they have stationed on the main island, you wouldn’t dare leave anything now in case you get
carted off in their big grey ship.
The positive side to traveling alone is that you normally get paired with the guide, should the occasion arise. Much like school, when you’re the last one without a partner (sniff) in gym or language classes and have to team up with the teacher, except it’s more interesting now. He complimented me on my kayaking ability (thank you, canoe club), but told me to slow down a bit, as ‘is not race, is looking time’. Me and my competitiveness! He pointed out the famous Lion Rock, which I said looked like an elephant. We quizzed the other kayaks, and all agreed with me. Which annoyed Bob the guide a bit. ‘Is lion!’ could be heard every few minutes, as he muttered under his breath. A few hikes to see some amazing views, and the most incredible green lagoon - lucky I wore my appropriate ‘tough’ sandals, instead of the other kind. There was a ‘woman of the second category’, or ladyboys as they are known to tourists, on the little speedboat as well, the only Thai there, who was dressed in a polo neck, sarong to her toes, and an enormous pink
floppy sunhat. She used up a whole bottle of Factor 30 just on the ride out to the park, whiteness is seen here as prettier, and almost every skincare range comes in a special ‘whitening’ selection. They don’t understand why Europeans and Americans insist on baking themselves to a peasant colour. But Phong entertained us all day. Every time the sun came out, she shrieked and dove under the nearest towel, despite the layers of clothes. She shrieked every time the boat went over a wave and slammed back down, which just made the driver go faster and bumpier. And after a wearying day of kayaking (which she didn’t do), hiking (ditto), eating (that was fine with her), snorkeling (nope, she didn’t like this either), she serenaded us on the hour long boat trip home with some Whitney Houston numbers.
Until it started to rain. As we approached Ko Samui, the clouds began to swirl and boil, getting darker and darker, until, within minutes, the whole sky was dark grey and very angry. There was not a lot we could do but go with it, and try and get home as soon as possible. The wind picked up, and
we watched as the grey mist ahead grew closer and closer, racing across the tops of the waves. Phong squeezed in with the other wusses under the tiny roof above the driver, but I braved it out with the tough people in the front of the speedboat. I also felt I had to pay my dues for giggling at the people on Ko Phaluai last night. As I sat on the beach yesterday evening and watched the sun go down, eating enormous garlic prawns and spicy Tom Yum soup, I watched a big, black cloud sprint across the sky towards the island a few miles away, and settle, releasing gallons of water on the unfortunates who were sitting munching prawns over there. A small, though increasingly smug, smile stole across my face. So, karma, and the balance of fortunes and all that. Drenched, battered and sore from the constant thump of the boat as it smacked over the violent waves, our skin stung pink by the sharp rain which felt like warm hailstones as we hurtled into the mist, we were all very glad to get back to dry land. One long, hot bath later, and I was fixed again. My skin was rinsed of the blue dye that had come pouring out of my soaking sarong. My legs had been covered in aloe vera and no longer tingled, and my aching calves had had the tension massaged away. My hair was smooth, no longer sticky and matted from salt water and wind. I wish the bed would stop swaying though.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.048s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 6; qc: 24; dbt: 0.0282s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1mb
Andrew
non-member comment
so jealous
Hey Erin, Your description and pictures of Ang Thong are both wonderful. I am sitting in my office on a chilly friday morning. The view out of my window is a greay and misty one whose only notable feature is the A14 and its collection of stationary traffic. The view on my monitor on the other hand is of glorious blue waters and green islands. There is even a beautiful girl smiling at me in one of them. Your entry a couple of days ago about Chinese New Year made me think back to my last visit to Thailand which was for Thai New Year last year. Have you ever been there for that? It was a lot of fun. The entire place seems to devote itself to a 3 or 4 day waterfight. Most impressive were the pick up trucks with a huge barrel of water and six to eight Thais in the back who would screech to a halt at a junction and then drench everyone there before hooning off laughing uproariously. As a somewhat conspicuous Farang (6'4" and white as a milk bottle) they seemed to take extra special delight in soaking me. Some of them even went to the trouble of refrigerating the water they were using! Anyway, it sounds like you are having a blast, and I will continue to read along and live vicariously through you :) take care, Andrew