Koh Tao

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And first prize for arse-hole of the day goes to...

Cue camera.
Happy family playing in pool. Shrieks of laughter.
Cut to clock on wall. Hour hand moves closer to noon.
Cut to wife glancing at clock. She gets out of pool.
“Excuse me, is it possible to phone the ferry bus to confirm our pick up?”
“Neeb tickheb.”
“Sure, no problem.”
She scratches in her wallet.
Calls: “Geoff where are the ferry tickets?”
“I don’t have them.”
“You took them out of my wallet, didn’t you?”
Geoff shakes his head.
Cut to clock. It is 3 minutes before 12.
Husband glowers.
Wife picks up wallet and runs out of lodge, pulling dress over her head.
Needless to say, I had to buy a second round of tickets only to get back to the lodge and discover that we didn’t need them - this is Thailand after all. Actual “tickets” only serve to make tourists feel safer. The “real” tickets are issued via the underground Thai network, understandable only to the Thais themselves.
Geoff is land of mute.
I am in dogbox and hang head in suitable shame.
I am also in land of absolute bafflement.
Where the hell are the tickets if my control freak husband didn’t take them? Get onto ferry after trying - lucklessly - to get a refund for ticket lot No. 2. Settle back into seat on ferry. Open novel. Out fall tickets.
Award myself arse-hole of the day award.

The fast boat to Koh Tao.

The ferry trip across to Koh is painless and fast. Yet again I am grateful for the somnambulant effect of the lullaby I have always crooned to Faith when putting her to sleep as once again it gets her to snooze her way across the brilliant blue waters and buys us time at the day’s end.

Man, it’s hot!

We arrive in Koh Tao hot and sweaty and catch a tuk tuk to the beach we want to stay at. I find us a gormless place to stay on the beachfront. It’s late, the kids are tired and it will do for the night.
Somehow the island doesn’t feel like it should. But we’re hot and it’s been a long day so we head to the beach for a swim. And step into piss warm water. Geoff picks up a plastic packet with his toes. We look at each other and head back to shore despite vocal protestations from the children. I find a pool for them to swim in that is a few degrees cooler. Now they are all happy. The kids have their water and Geoff has a beer, but I feel restless. I don’t like where we’re staying so I head off to find something that talks to my soul.
I wander down to the corner of the beach and across a long bridge to a restaurant suspended on stilts. Taking my shoes off I walk through and carry on the other side. It’s getting wilder here. Fewer people and a more authentic local feel. I find a better room and then walk further, heading up into the jungle like vegetation where I find some beautiful bungalows jutting over the ocean, each with their own wooden deck. Aah, this feels better. A place to retreat to. A place to do yoga. It’s full. “Come black tomollow. Ten clock.”
Tomorrow.
I have a date.

The oceans calls.

The next morning Geoff wakes up early and goes out on a reccie. When he comes back, he takes the kids out for brekkie while I bend and stretch.
Then I head out to check out the diving while he goes to get dosh-a-roller. After some gentle arm-twisting (we haven’t dived for years and Geoff doesn’t have his dive card), I arrange for us to do a “tune-up” dive that afternoon. Erk! I’ve forgotten everything - even what that blow up thing you wear is called. I feel like a fraud that’s about to be bust.

Stack ’em and pack ’em.

We scream back home to get our cossies, sunblock, water and the kids Bentley belts and then jump aboard the dive boat out to Au Leuk bay. Because we have to take turns doing the kids, I volunteer to get “tuned up” first so that I can get Faith to sleep while Geoff has his tune in.

It’s like riding a bicycle

My heart is thumping. I have to take my mask off and swim without it and then get it back on again and clear it and blah blah - all the stuff I’ve forgotten. But diving’s like riding a bicycle and no sooner is the regulator in your mouth and you're off like the fish you once were.
Before I know it, I am under the ocean on my first dive in years. Agog(ggle) with the beauty and wonder of it all. Anenomes. Giant clams. Fish of every imaginable colour. And the reassuring sound of my own breath. Breathing in, breathing out…

Back on board.

I got back on board to find two happy children parked in front of enormous help-yourself tubs of biscuits and cigar-like chocolate wafer biscuits. With chocolate spread from cheek to cheek, what’s not to like?
Koh Tao is looking up.
For us all.

Home is where the view is.

It’s too late to sort out accommodation but we are feeling better about being here and Geoff and I decide to get into diving and alternate dive days.
He’s really keen to dive so I tell him to go first.
And I go off in search of a place I like better.
This time View Point has a room for us. So I shepard the kids back to base, pack up and sherpa our stuff down to the water and catch a long tail boat to our new beach.
I unpack and get us sorted and get back to the dive school as Geoff chugs in on his boat.
Our happy family is back in business. Princess has her hide-away home and privacy, the kids have a few great little beaches to explore, and the king has days of diving to dip into.

Koh Toa may be pretty, but wait till you see what’s under her pettycoat…

The diving here is spectacular.
Because it’s a long walk to the dive school, whoever is diving leaves home early, walking along a few little bays that change with the tide, along a wooden jetty, though Taraporn restaurant on her stilts, along the long bridge onto Cholok Baan beach. They stop for breakfast at the cool Buddha Café which overlooks the bay (diving makes you hungry so you want something on board before you get on board) and then hit the dive school to check gear. Then it’s onto the longtail boat that takes us out to the big dive boat and out to wherever we are doing our first dive.
Chumpon Pinacle. Red Rock, Lighthouse, Japanese Gardens. But no matter where one dips one’s BCD, it’s breath-taking and exhilarating. Then it’s back on board and off to the second dive site. En route, it’s up on the roof for a slice of fresh pineapple and some electrolytes while the captain motors us to the next site.
The transit time is just long enough for you to catch your breath - and then it’s time to gear up for the second dive and down for more marveling at God’s curious creations.

It’s a weird world.

The more I dive, the more bizarre it becomes. I feel like I’m stuck inside a National Geographic documentary as shoals of fish fill my horizon. Underwater I forget about everything, except Amazement.

The kid’s first bar.

When the kids wake from their sleep in the late afternoon we generally trundle down to Babaloo - a chilled bar on the beach. Despite the fact that their beers aren’t cold and they make crap fruit shakes, we really like it. The owner plays very cool - often off the wall - music and it’s a great place to enter the evening. The kids play on hammocks or in the sand, while my man and I get to say hi.

Like faithful hens, we return to roost.

It’s hard to leave so dinner is often late. And despite all the delicious Thai food on offer our bungalow makes the best BBQ’ed chicken we have ever tasted. So most nights we eat at our local restaurant - after of course having a good gander at how they prepare the chook because we have to learn how to do it ourselves.

Feeding the fishes.

Every day the restaurant staff throw bread to the fish below. It hits the water and the sea instantly turns into this churning, boiling, bubbling mass of frenetic activity.
I am going to catch some of those fish with Monkey.

Abracadabra!

Koh Tao has woven a magic spell on us. But our Thai visa runs out soon and we have to decide on what we’re doing. Air tickets get more expensive the closer to departure you get so we decide to buy our tickets to Vietnam and plan to get our visa’s from Bangkok. They take 5 working days to process which works out perfectly as Geoff can do some shopping - and I can find a pool for the kids and carry on with our swimming lessons.

A First Class peanut.

And the award, once again goes to…
ME!
Fork.
We’ve booked at boat trip around Koh Tao.
But as we are about to get on the taxi to take us to the ferry I realize I don’t have the tickets. Again! They’re back in our bungalow. And our bungalow is faaaaar away. And I won’t make it there and back by the time the taxi arrives.
Frigging fork!
Geoff raises an unamused eyebrow at me.
I get the giggles and weave my way to the travel desk, hoping that this time I have a better grasp on the underground Thai ticket system. “No ploblem” the lady tells me. “You bling tomollow.”
Geoff is still unamused.
But life here is sweet, and I am tired of taking it seriously. So I get a good case of schoolgirl giggles and collapse with laughter. I am so useless. Never forget the sunscreen. Or a change of clothes. Or am unarmed with a snack. Or water. Or a book to draw in... But hell, ask me to look after a simple thing like tickets, and you’re screwed.
I formally fire myself from all forms of responsibility.
Poor Geoff.
If I could restore the part of my brain that attached itself to the placenta when I gave birth to Phoenix…

What a trip!

The boat trip around the island is an adventure. We have to cross, in true Thai style, three boats to get to our own, swinging the kids across yawning chasms between boats. But they take to it like water bugs. I wish I could record the mayhem of it to watch it for my own amusement later. But we need all hands on deck just to keep afloat…
We stop to snorkel in three incredibly locations. Much to my surprise, Phoenix sticks on his goggles and Bently belt and heads into the deep blue with me. Sans snorkel, all I hear next to me is "one, two, three gasp (as he inhales deeply then ducks dives his head under the water for as long as he can hold his breath. Then it's back up , "one, two, three, gasp"...
We had a really special day together out in the ocean, and I am so proud of my brave, adventurous little boy.

Buzzing around

We hire two mopeds to explore the island. Geoff lifts the two kids on his, while I master using mine. Faithie sits in front of him and helps him to steer, while Monkey sits behind him, his two little legs not even reaching the footrest. It's really fun buzzing around the island, with the warm wind in our hair, and nowhere we have to be.

So long Koh Tao, we love you!

At last it is time to go. We have had a great time here and are sad to leave. But exciting things loom ahead so it's not too bad.
First we have an overnight train trip to make and then it’s onto the exciting city of Bangkok.

But now, it’s time to say goodbye.
We catch a taxi to the pier. I suspect the driver uses Mekong whiskey for more than just aftershave as smiling glassily, he tries to charge us our pre-paid fare again. We smile, shake our heads and appreciate his entrepreneurship. Unlucky for him, we’re from the Wild West.
Our ferry arrives and we climb on, armed with our 2 backpacks, Africa (the little meerkat Monkey brought from home), and Poh (Faith's doll).
“Goodbye Koh Tao.”
“Goodbye diving.”
“Goodbye View Point.”
“Goodbye motorbikes.”
“Goodbye hammocks.”
“Goodbye warm beer.”

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