Rob, for those that don’t know, just broke a Guinness World Record skateboarding 12,000 km unsupported. His journey started in Switzerland and took him over Europe, the US and the width of China – beginning in Xinjiang and ending just over a week ago in Shanghai.

My interview with Rob drummed up some interesting comments from his well-travelled fan base on Lost Laowai, including an e-mail from Alastair Humphreys.

All of it has got me thinking about my own travels, however tame they are by comparison, and how much I’d love to do something like that again.

It’s funny in some ways. Many, I think, would look at a person living overseas and think they are in the middle of an adventure already, and for some they surely are. But after nearly four years here in China, I’ve settled into a groove, gotten married, bought a dog and eat pizza delivery – a bit far away from hiking the Amalfi coast, raving in Thailand, camping on an island with a bunch of monkeys, and checking out the Greek countryside from the precariously perched monasteries of Meteora.

Often when I start thinking about heading out and putting a few new pins in the map I start thinking of all the reasons that it’s difficult now and why I can’t or shouldn’t. I say to myself that life is different now – I’m older, I’m married, I’ve got a dog, and delivery pizza…

It pains me to think the words. To, at least in my mind’s ear, hear them said. It’s, almost verbatim, the speech I heard a hundred times from a hundred different people upon returning home after backpacking for 5 months. A speech that always started with “Wow, I envy you. I wish I could go do it.”

Well, I guess my response is as good for me now as it was for them then. You can. I can.

Additionally, this week marks another anniversary of sorts. It was November 11, 2003, that I left Canada and began travelling for five months living out of a backpack and on various kind souls couches, spare beds, backyards and floors.

The recognition that it’s been four years since that fateful day has led me to take a moment and consider exactly how I got where I am.

So, lets see how my memory does:

The Magazines

Somewhere in my first or second year of college I got it in my head that I wanted to travel to Thailand upon graduation. A lot of things got in the way of that, the least of which – I’m certain – being that once graduating college few people have money and I was no exception. However, the big stopper was that before I even had my diploma in hand and hat in air, I was working at a magazine publisher spending my days pointing out other’s mistakes as an assistant editor.

With what was quite an awesome gig for a recent grad – interviewing some of my favorite musicians, getting backstage at concerts, and making more money than I’d ever made – the Thailand plans were swept aside as something to be done in the rather undefinable “later”.

I worked at the magazines for a few years, and what was exciting and fun at first quickly became stale and painful. I was tired of writing the same things over and over again, just changing the names. Tired of meeting the same fake people, listing to the same “new” bands, playing with the same “new” music gear.

Somewhere in there echoes of former plans began to swell up again. I became a bit obsessed about wanting to leave it all and travel. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it should be, your mid-twenties are a tough time to jump off the ladder you’ve been told you need to get your ass up and have, however reluctantly, begun to climb.

It took me the better part of a year to get up the nerve to quit, and I stayed on three months past that as a grace period.

UK, Europe and an Aussie

I’m not really sure why it was that I left in the second week of November 2003, but there it is. I had spent endless hours on LP’s Thorntree forums and lots of time connecting with various people via GlobalFreeloaders so that I felt at least somewhat prepared for what awaited me on the other side of the Atlantic.

Actually, looking at my apprehension now, it’s damn amusing to me just how nervous I was. I mean, it’s England. But for this small town boy who had only travelled around the safety of his own country and the mixed up place just south of it, the UK couldn’t be more foreign.

I travelled England and Scotland for November, ending up in Belfast at my cousin’s for most of December. Spent New Year’s in Dublin with friends and was on the Mainland (of a Western kind) and in Paris at the start of January. In the 30 days that followed I thoroughly used and abused a comped Eurorail pass my “journalist” credentials had gotten me. Paris, Venice, Rome, Amalfi Coast, Athens, Olympia, Barcelona and Florence were all (far too brief) stops.

Upon arriving back in London for a couple of days to await my flight to Thailand, I ended up returning to a Globalfreeloader’s home that I had befriended (and remain good friends with today). It was there that I met Cass. An amazing Tassie that had me at “noi”.

It’s strange thinking of those three days with her now and realize how short that time actually was. Certainly a lot shorter than the number of times in the following two months that I got drunk in Thailand and blabbered on about her. Or wrote songs about her.

Thai Smiles, An Intro to Asia

Whatever bits of my young heart I didn’t leave at Heathrow, Thailand stole. The country that started the journey, and I was finally there. Everything about the place appealed to me. The people, the culture, the food. Everything.

Now, with the perspective that comes with time having washed the memories a great deal, I approach the country with a slightly different feel, and it saddens me. The memories I made there, though dimmer now, still flicker in my mind and give off chemicals that remind me of those initial tastes.

From taking cooking classes and volunteering at an orphanage in the North, to full moon parties and camping on a lonely island in the south – there is very little of those two months that I don’t wish I could repeat again and again. Even the scar that marks my arm, from experimenting with motorbikes and inertia, is something I took from Thailand and still hold dear.

I’ve returned several times since, and each visit was great – but when it comes to all the travel I’ve done since and all the travel I’m likely to do in the future, it’s hard not to think that perhaps those two months were the high water mark.

A Return to CNN and on to BC

After returning from travelling I landed back on North American soil in the Boston airport. While waiting for my connecting flight to Buffalo I couldn’t escape CNN. I had spent five months avoiding the news that most people busy themselves with, and getting such a strong and forceful dose so quickly left me feeling ill.

For the next several months I lived in a bit of a limbo, happy to be home but unsure how to fit back in. Five months isn’t long in the scheme of things, but it’s enough to disconnect you from your life. It’s enough to give you opinions outside the scope of those that have never gone. And it’s enough for the presumed pretentiousness of that fact to distance you from those that were close only six months before.

And so, when given the option to move across the country and live at my Aunt’s in British Columbia, I jumped on it. Leaving, it appeared, was becoming a bit of a hallmark for me.

BC was a mixed bag, but stopped me from getting too cozy and complacent for staying in one place. I still had a nagging desire to get to Australia. Unfortunately I wasn’t saving much money in BC and so not a month after arriving I began planning my departure – to China.

Eight Months To Oz

After typing various random things into search engines, a planned developed whereby I would go to China and teach English as a Second Language for eight months, all the while saving like a fiend to eventually end up in Australia on a one year Holidaymaker visa.

Though my infatuation with the quirky Aussie had cemented itself into one of the closest (and at the same time furtherest) friendships I’ve ever been fortunate enough to have, I was still extremely eager to see what this big island where the water drains backwards and mammals lay eggs was all about.

The eight months in China passed pretty quickly, and everything was going to plan; got my health check, got my Aussie visa, saved enough cash, finalized my itinerary…

But then something unexpected happened. I couldn’t leave. While it’s easy to summarize these eight months in a sentence or two, it’s harder to explain all the things that were going on behind the scenes – particularly between myself and a quiet, semi-English-speaking receptionist at my school.

The one thing you have a lot of when you’re an English teacher in a small Chinese town is time. This was time I was more than happy to spend chatting with random people, and ecstatic to spend chatting with a bright and beautiful Chinese girl. Falling in love with her was an unexpected side-effect.

And one, in the end, I was quite willing to trade my best laid plans for.

Now, looking back on those initial feelings of what it was to leave my home and enter an unknown world of different cultures, languages and people, it amazes me to see how much that experience snowballed into what I now call “my life”. It also acts as a reminder of the excitement and anxiety my wife must feel about heading to Canada next month.

Seeing my own country as a foreigner is a trip I can’t wait to take.

My last week in the Land of Smiles has been a plethora of last minutes. Last minute sight seeing with a trip to Kanchanaburi where the infamous Bridge Over The River Kwai and Death Railroad is, as well as a surprise trip to Ayutthya, Siam’s ancient ruined city. Last minute shopping for gifts and souvenirs at Chetuchak Market. And many last minute contemplations about a trip that has seen me touch the soil of 10 different countries over nearly five months of sometimes labourious, sometimes frustrating, but almost always exhilarating and educating travel. Perhaps I will return home in a little over 48 hours and through the ambition to again find my spot in my old life the changes that have occured in me will not be evident. I mean largely I am the same person I was before I left, and if anything, through the course of this journey I had always only hoped to improve those qualities that I had in myself before leaving Canada – to improve my ability to look at a situation not through biased eyes and to be able to approach things with an open mind. But I think I’ve not only improved on these things, but also gained a better insight to my strengths and weaknesses – of which I’ve had to both utilize and tackle throughout this trip. Travelling gives you the opportunity to not just be alone, but to be alone in unique situations – and I think it is in these moments when we really begin to build upon our character.

Anyway… after a quick journey on a VIP bus from Surat Thani (the entire time wondering if my backpack was being pillaged in the storage below), I found myself standing in the sticky 4:30 a.m. heat of Bangkok waiting for a bus with a Thai hooker whose conversational English was limited to “You want to kiss me?” My bus never came, her’s did and I took a tuk-tuk to the Southern Bus Terminal. I got to Kanchanaburi without hassle and found a suitable guesthouse on the River Kwai. When I say “on the river” I really mean ON THE RIVER… not on the bank like the phrase implies, but you could see water through the cracks in my room’s floorboards. Needless to say the mosquito net came in mighty handy, sadly, it didn’t keep out the ants and they swarmed my pack. The next morning I found my little dried banana gift the girl on the bus to Chiang Mai gave me, it looked like a cat had ripped through the bag and had its way with the contents.

After a quick nap I walked over to the war memorial cemetary for the foreigners who died during the construction of the Thai-Burma Railway by the Japanese PoWs in World War II. For those that don’t know, Japan occupied (with Thai “consent”) Thailand during the war, and basically used slave PoW labour to build a link through the very unappealing land between Thailand and Burma (we’re talking prime mountainous, swampy, malaria infested real-estate). Many, many, many died due to disease, malnutrition, over-work and abuse.

Beside the cemetary was a museum that Ollie (Jin’s friend in Bangkok) had told me was quite good (I was relieved it was the good one, as the JEATH Museum was far away… and from what Martin had told me – it sucked). The museum lived up to the good praise and gave a great rundown of events surrounding the Japanese occupation and construction of the railway.

From here I walked up to the bridge (about 3 km away) and waded through the Japanese (of all people) tourists that swarmed the site. Walking across the bridge I couldn’t help but focus on my fear of heights, but got lost in the memory of days gone by stumbling across Welland’s train bridge… sigh. I’ll have to remember to make a visit in the next week or two. The Bridge Over The River Kwai was a lot smaller than I had pictured, but was still neat to visit. On the opposing side you basically emerge in a very rural setting (aside from the precious stone dealers and Thai couple vying for your patronage to purchase food for their momma and baby elephant). I decided not to go back across the river (code of the traveller: never go the same way twice when possible) and instead walked down a old dirt road that loosely followed the waterway. I stopped and asked a toothless man standing in a field if there was a bridge up ahead so I could get back on the proper side, but well, my Thai and his English… he ended up letting me smell whatever it was he was growing and we did some demonstrations on how to eat corn (which he was also growing… or at least the farm was… perhaps he just liked to stand in fields, I’ll never know).

I eventually found the car bridge and watched the sunset from there with two Canadians named Dave and Beth (London and Guelph). We then went for dinner at a place that was showing the movie that made the place so famous, but with a crap VCD it wasn’t long before we paid our bill and left. I decided to catch a few more flics at a local bar that was showing Underworld and Stuck On You, both of which were entertaining, and the Chang was cheap.

The next day I escaped from the heat by taking advantage of the 20B/hr. internet and then headed to Bangkok where Tee picked me up at the bus station (after a bit of confusion on where we were supposed to meet). Friday… what did I do Friday? Oh, right, I basically just took it easy all day, but had made the commitment to demonstrate to my Thai family my new Thai cooking abilities (no pressure or anything). I decided on Green Curry as it was my fav. The meal was great, even if through the entire process Khak teased that he was going to have to call the hospital and reserve a spot for himself. Rieng was impressed that it was so good for my second time making it – and to tell you the truth, so was I, especially because the first time I had a teacher there to help. But really, Thai food is very simple to make.

Oh, so the other really cool thing that happened Friday was that Cass called me!!! Yup… we got to reconfirm that despite how our e-mails sound, we both do in fact have different accents! It was great to talk to her. I think we chatted for about an hour before her sister’s calling card dried up and cut us off. Good thing I guess, because I had to go cook and if history is any indication, we could have talked all night.

Saturday Tee offered to take me and Rieng to Ayutthya, the ancient capital of Siam that was sacked by the Burmese a few centuries ago. It is also their home province, and I think they were proud to take me there. It was really cool. Some of it got a bit repetative, because you can only see so many random bricks before it gets monotonous, but on a whole it was really amazing! Historically it was great to learn about and there are some huge pagodas and Buddha statues there. I also got to meet their oldest sister when she, her son and daughter and Ree showed up for lunch. It was nice to meet even more of their family.

Yesterday I was excited to head to Chetuchak Weekend Market in the north end of Bangkok. It has a few thousand stalls and so I figured I could find pretty much every souvenir and gift I wanted there. I was wrong. After a long bus ride, complete with missing my stop, I got to the market, was instantly soaked with sweat (I think it’s about 35-40 degrees in the shade now) and basically spent about 3 hours randomly wandering around finding very little. Most of the stalls have the same thing as the one beside it and if you are looking for some specific things (which I was) it is damn near impossible to find, because other than a map that gives you a rough idea what sections sell what “types” of things (household, animals, clothing, etc.) finding something specific is an exercise in futility (so now I’m waiting for Rieng to come home so I can run to Tesco Lotus and pick up a couple of things… call me Westernized but I LOVE Tesco Lotus [sort of like Walmart]). Then when I had given up and figured I should start heading home because I knew Ree’s friends were coming over for dinner to see me, I went to where the bus driver said to get back on the bus and waited. And waited. Chatted to a Thai girl about the heat, busses, the heat, English and the heat (Rawn Maak Maak! was the saying of the day). And waited… Finally I gave up and headed to the SkyTrain, took that a few blocks south to the Victory Monument and found the bus I needed. The ride home took the better part of two hours through Bangkok traffic but this time I cleared up with the driver to let me know when we hit my stop.

Though I was tired, hot and frustrated when I got home, the evening was great. We had a big spread of Thai food and though I didn’t understand most of it, everyone was chatty and it was good fun. Khak gave me a bottle of Thai wine, so I cracked that and chatted business with Tee (we are thinking of doing a bit of import/export) and then stayed up and waxed relationships/philosophy and general cultural differences with Rieng until about 2 a.m.

Now, with my computer about to melt (it and Thai electricity do not get along and it is beginning to smell funky), I am contemplating starting to pack, basically for the last time, and well… this is it. The next entry will be from back in Canada. What a weird feeling it is to do this travelling in reverse. When I was going to London, the night before I was “Wow! I can’t believe that tomorrow I’ll be in London.” The words are the same this time, but the inflection different. I can’t wait to see Maryann again, but it’s with sadness, because after tomorrow I don’t know when I’ll see her next. And then off to Boston, which I’ve always wanted to visit, but will only really get to see the terminal, then home for Wednesday night. I’m sure I’d be more depressed about this being the end if didn’t miss my friends and family so much and if I hadn’t had an amazing time and completed all the things I wanted to. There will always be more for me to see, and I understood that from the outset, so I don’t feel as though I’ve missed out on anything and anything that I wish I had seen is just a reason to return. So folks, start saving your money, because next time I expect some company!

Peace

PHOTOS
These are kinda out of order, but I’m posting this with the car running and my bags packed.. so give me a break. I’ll sort it out when I get home.

If you read this, or look at the photos… please send me a little comment (by clicking the Leave A Comment link, of all things, at the bottom of each entry). You don’t have to be a LiveJournal member… but if you don’t it will sign it anonymously, so please sign your name. I know it’s late in the game for this now… but really, I’d love to hear what you think, or just that you’re reading things.

Thanks,

Ryan.

I’ve just arrived back onto Koh Samui after six days, five nights, on the island of Wu Ta Lab in the Ang Thong National Park. What a blast!

I left my main pack at the Seaview Guesthouse (it should be noted that I have neither the sea, a view, or a sea view), where I spent my one night between Koh Pha Ngan and Ang Thong, and headed to the park on a High Sea Tour boat. For 500B (plus 200B standard National Park entrance fee) the boat goes to Wua Ta Lap, the parks HQ, and spends two hours there while tourists hike up to the View Point, to the limestone cave or just lounge on the beach. After that the boat departs to Ko Ma Ko, an island directly north of Wua Ta Lap that features the “Emerald Lake” that alegedly Alex Garland got the idea for the secret inland lake in The Beach.

I got off at the first stop and confirmed with the tour boat that I could just hop back on after staying a couple days – and every day they asked me, “Today you leave?” and I answered simply with a smile and a, “Nope, not today.” It really was damn near painful to tear myself away from this place. If it wasn’t for the desire for a soft bed and more than just one change of dirty clothes, I may have never left – and at only 20B per night, who would have blamed me.

I really underpacked for the place under the assumption that I’d be roughing it for a few days. Turns out that the place is a pretty popular tourist destination and the island houses more than 30 full-time staff members. The thing is it isn’t farang tourists, but Thai. It was strange to see these people I had just come to think of as 20h a day working machines actually taking time to relax in the sun.

My first day I set up camp and after the majority of the tourists had left I headed up to the viewpoint. Now, let it be said that I’ve been told a number of times by Thais that Thai people work hard and therefore don’t generally like to hike, walk, generally expend any energy they don’t have to (Rieng admitted she takes a motorbike home from the bus stop). So when I saw the sign that basically advised that the View Point was 500m and a very hard trek I assumed that this was using the Thai system of what “hard” was, and it didn’t seriously apply to this rugged Canadian. About 45 minutes later, after swiftly dodging about 5 major coronary failures and a stroke or two, when a Dutch girl on her way down told me that I was about half way and it only gets harder, I re-assessed National Park signs and took good note to always follow them to the letter.

Eventually after a STEEP climb that involved two ropes as my only support and a bunch of sharp, sun scorched rocks as my footing (strangly, they clinked like metal when my rings hit them) I reached the View Point – a wooden platform that overlooks all the National Park islands. It was absolutely stunning. I knew what to expect as I had seen photos in brochures, but to see it first hand was breathtaking, and I had very little breath left to take.

I took in the view for a good 30 minutes, which incidently was about how long it took to catch my breath – imagine that. By this time I had been joined by a Brit, so together we made the decent and happily told all those on their way up how hard it was, but how worth it it was. We only managed to scare two people into turning around – but they were not young and looked close to needing to push their medical alert bracelets.

The rest of my time on the island was basically spent hanging with a bunch of Thais, as there really weren’t many farangs that stayed on the island. I made friends with Gon, the park’s manager who also plays some mean Scorpions covers and a great Thai rendition of Hotel California on guitar. I also befriended the staff at the park’s canteen/restaurant. They were all so awesome and sitting here alone in my room I am left wanting for more of their conversation. Their English was all quite good, and it gave me an excellent opportunity to practice my Thai as well as learn more vocab.

I think it was day three I decided to fight off impending bordom (I had finished my only book the day before and there was not a scrap of written English other than my brochure on the entire island) by heading to a fishing village on the other side of the island. I got directions from one of the staff members who gave me a bit of a “crazy farang” look for wanting to know, and I headed into the forest. About 30 minutes of walking through spider webs and battling with mosquitoes later I stumbled into the “village”, which was more of a dirt path with scattered bamboo huts on either side and the tools of fishing everywhere. After aimlessly wandering around with a quirky smile on my face a fisherman took pity on this sweaty white guy and invited him into the shade of his hut where he was repairing strange looking hooks. He explained, through a series of demonstrations as his English was worse than my Thai, that they were for catching squid and that he was a squid fisherman, squiderman?

I swiftly became the novelty of the town as foreigners are not common (and I think that’s an understatement). I was treated to some fried squid (which on my way in to town I had sworn never to eat again as I saw how it was sundried and covered with flies – meh), mellon, water, and pretty much offered everything these people had. It was incredible. Then to top it all off, after about an hour or so of hanging out, they gave me a free lift in their boat back to the other side of the island. Simply amazing. When I offered money for the ride, they laughed at me.

I fell into a bit of a routine on the island whereby I would wake up between 6 and 8 (depending on how well I tuned out the rooster, monkeys, staff and increasing heat from the rising sun), spend most the day in the restaurant speaking with Kae, a 26-year-old girl that ran sorta ran the restaurant; and Ake, Pim and Fon, three students from Chiang Mai Uni that were there on sort of a work-placement type of thing. Around 4 p.m., after the day-tourists left, I would head down to the beach to swim and usually ended up falling asleep for an hour or two in the fading sunlight. Waking up I’d go to the restaurant, have some fried rice with squid (or on one special occasion I had chicken curry with coconut milk – every day I asked for it but they never had it, then one day Kae had a big smile on her face and said I could have it!). After dinner I’d go and hang on the beach with my guitar and usually ended up making friends with whatever audience decided to come and pay me a listen. By about 9:30-10:30 it was bed time and then I’d wake up and repeat. Some of the characters would change, but basically that’s what I did every day. Tough life eh? Haha.

I also practiced my spinning things. An Israeli guy told me what their official name is, but I have forgotten. He also showed me how to turn around with them, which has lent me some movement while playing with them.

Today, after saying goodbye to my friends, and appearing in some photos with Pim, I boarded the boat and headed to Ko Ma Ko to see what this Emerald Lake was all about. Though not quite as dramatic as its cinematic counterpart, it was quite beautiful. We only had an hour on the island and hiking up to a view point and then down close to the water ate up most of this time and before I knew it I was back on the boat headed towards Samui.

It was at this point that I realized that now, with exactly one week left in Thailand, I’ve begun my trip homeward. Everything now is geared towards getting back to Canada, and I have to admit, I’m a bit sad. When I think about it, I can’t be, because I’ve seen and done so many amazing things, but… well, there it is. It’s really coming to an end. To borrow a lyric from a song that only Cass, myself and the ocean may recognize, “The question is: What will I do then?”

Speaking of Cass, it’s been the better part of a week since I’ve been able to check e-mail and hear from her, so… time to end this and go see if anyone misses me.

Oh, tomorrow I head out of the island paradise I’ve been surrounded by for the past four weeks and begin my trek back to Bangkok. Once there I’m going to take a day or two and head over to Kanchantanaburi (no idea if that’s actually how it’s spelt), where the infamous Bridge Over The River Kwai and death railway are. Then it’s back to Rieng’s for some good chat, good food, good shopping and goodbyes with her and her family.

Last night we had a big goodbye dinner. When David told me about a big fish market in the next town over I came up with this ambitious plan to buy our own fish, cook it on a rusty grill they have outside of our bungalow’s restaurant and just generally have ourselves a little party. Getting permission to use the grill wasn’t hard, and we even discovered a way to pay some Thai people 20 bhat for wood, but when I asked in the middle of the afternoon about the market, I was told it was closed and if we wanted fresh fish we’d have to go to Thong Sala (about a 1/2 hour ride away). But as David, Beni and Rafie were all at some spa on the island, we couldn’t tell them of the failed plans.

Resigning ourselves to the exhorborant BBQ price at the local restaurant (yeah, exhorborant… like a whole $7-10 for a plate of shark or marlin or whatever… just crazy), Adi, Sharon and myself (along with Paul, a cool Londoner who joined our little group a few days ago and whom a little romance had developed between him and Adi… that’s not the only reason you hung out with us was it Paul… and be honest, cute Israeli girls can make men do quite silly things) washed the salt and sand off ourselves and started to head to the restaurant. Just as I was standing in the parking lot waiting for Sharon to walk over there with David showed up on his motorbike with a kilo of beef steaks, a kilo of prawns and a kilo of tuna steaks. Problem… no fire.

So, after a bit of negotiation the BBQ place let us use all there gear, including spices, for 100B and Beni and David flexed their gastronomical muscles and provided us with a feast. It was awesome… and worked out a fair bit cheaper than had we just gone there for the BBQ. It was a nice way to say farewell to one another – nothing makes a memory quite like an incredible meal.

Now, after a drenchingly refreshing (don’t sit on the deck) boat ride from Thong Sala to Koh Samui, I am chillin’ out in my room and about to brave the big bad port city I’m in (it’s actually quite small and cute). I’m alone again and it is a weird feeling after pretty much being assured that I’d have company any time I wanted it for the past two or three weeks since I got to Koh Pha Ngan.

I am heading to Ang Thong National Park tomorrow and doing some camping there for a few days. I think I mentioned this in my last LJ entry, but as it’s not infront of me, here we go. Ang Thong is a series of 42 islands between Koh Samui and mainland Thailand. It is all protected and there are no bungalows or anything on it, so it should be an interesting change from the rest of the beaches I’ve been to which have been loaded with drunkin’ Swedes or oiled up Germans. It also contains an island that’s main feature is a lake surrounded by high cliffs and fed by underground tunnels to the sea water, which was the basis for the island in The Beach book/movie.

David said he might join me on the island, and it’d be cool to have some company as I’m not sure how many people will be there. I bought a pair of the spinning chain things that you light on fire the other day and am getting reasonably good with them. I thought I’d suck from my limited experience on the beaches of Hat Rin leading up to the Full Moon Party – but turns out I just shouldn’t do it when I’ve been drinking. David, having given mine a go, bought a pair, so maybe we can put a little act together and make some money – people pay to see stupid Farangs light themselves on fire right? – BTW: No worries mom and dad, I’m not actually lighting them on fire … yet.

So, only two weeks of this incredible adventure left. Two weeks. Man…

But when I get home in two weeks, it means I’m two weeks closer to going to Australia. Oh, have I talked about this at all? Well… the deal is I can get the same Holiday-maker Visa that I could get for the UK but go to Australia instead. It’s only good for a year – but that’s cool. So yeah, I am going to put the Belfast plans on hold for now and go see about a girl … and the rest of what Australia has to offer. And yes, I’m still going to travel across the frigin’ planet to visit this “girl” who when informed of my horrible, life threatening motobike accident proceeded to write me a reply and didn’t mention it once… maybe I’ll just skip Melbourne. (in all fairness she has since redeemed herself … she cut off her arm and I ignored all reference to it).

Peace.
Oh, and check out the PHOTOS!

So I headed to the north end of Koh Pha Ngan about a day or two after the Full Moon Party and after staying one night in the crappy Hat Yao I moved to Mae Haad, the place I went snorkling a couple weeks ago. It is great and I’ve stayed there since. I’ve made friends with two Swiss guys, two Israeli girls, a South African and most recently a guy named Paul from London.

So yeah, two days ago I borrowed one of my new friend’s motorbikes and headed down to Hat Rin to pick up my main backpack that I left at the guesthouse there. On the way in to Hat Rin I was driving very cautiously because the roads are horribly hilly and crappy. Coming down a steep incline (decline?) I put on the breaks and gently coasted down the hill, gently hit the water-worn ditch at the bottom and gently learned the sensation of flight… but all good things, as they say, …

I hit the ground and the gravely pavement worked much like a cheese grater on my arm and leg and I had to drive the rest of the way into Hat Rin with blood dripping all over myself. I was quite the sight. On the advice of the guesthouse owners I headed to a local clinic and for 100B I was cleaned and bandaged by a nurse and with a bottle of iodine, sent on my way.

It figures that the water at Haad Mae finally cleared up and I could go snorkling and I go and mess myself up so I have to stay out of the water for a couple days. Bah! I’m healing nicely (not really, it’s actually all puss-filled and gross) and only really bothers me when I move.

So, needless to say, I’m sticking to the equally dangerous, but much more out of my hands, taxis for all transportation needs.

I’ve decided to stick around the beach where I’m staying right now for a few more days and just sort of soak up the sun and enjoy this little bit of Paradise I’ve found. I’m then going to move on to Ang Thong National Park which contains the island that The Beach was based on (it has an inland lake that is fed through underground tunnels). From there I think I’ll begin my trek back to Bangkok, making a short stop at the Bridge Over The River Kwai site… there is apparently an excellent museum on the whole Death Railway there that I want to see (even if the actual bridge is just touristy now).

Well… till next time, avoid hills, ditches and motorbikes (or any combination there of) and I’ll do the same.

Peace.

It feels a bit like boxing day today – minus the leftovers… mmmm leftovers. Right. What I mean is for the last week I’ve been getting stoked about the Full Moon Party and really the stoking began long before that. I don’t remember when I first heard about the Full Moon parties of Koh Pha Ngan, but likely when I first started to read about Thailand around four or five years ago, and I’ve wanted to go ever since. The idea of thousands of people jumping around on the beach under the light of the moon just seemed like a really cool idea (anyone up for starting a similar party in the Niagara Region? Oh wait, you’re not aloud to party anywhere in Canada…). Anyway, so right, my expectations, though I always fight such things, were built up quite a bit and now, sitting here the day after, I’m sad that it’s done.

It was a complete blast.

Martin, Jin and I had a bit of a slow start yesterday after spending the better portion of the night before jumping around on the beach. Apparently it was a Buddha Day so alcohol didn’t start flowing until after midnight. It was sort of surreal walking along the beach and seeing all these people just sitting there waiting for the bars to light up and the music to start… and when it did everyone made up for lost time.

After drinking for a bit I got the brilliant idea to go for a dip in the buff. I ran it by Jin and Martin, they were game so we travelled down to a little more secluded section of the beach, found a spot to stash our stuff and I was out of my clothes and streaking across the sand before you could say “Shark Attack” (as that was all I kept thinking about while prancing around in the dark waters). After breaking through some waves I turned around to make sure I wasn’t alone. Thankfully I had been followed by the two of them, but apparently they didn’t get the memo as Martin was in his gitch and Jin her bright yellow bathing suit. Jin played the sly “I no speaka the Engish well. I no understand skinny dip” (she most certainly did as I went to some lengths explaining it to her before we got to the water), and Martin said that he didn’t mind his stuff getting stolen, but didn’t particularly want to walk home nakid. Meh.

We swam for a bit and then headed back to our stuff. As I was walking down the beach I passed a couple having a romantic gaze at the stars. They gave me a very quizical look, so I just smiled, waved and said “Good Evening”. As you do.

Anyway… so we got up yesterday and shook off our Changovers and started preparing for the eve ahead. Around 10 p.m. we met up with a girl named Jody who we’ve been hanging out with quite a bit (I met her on the boat over and she is in that photo of the boat from the pics the other day) and she had bought some neon body paint. Jin being an artist lent her abilities to our limbs and faces. I asked for a Ziggy Stardust star on my face, but she’s Korean and I think Bowie is illegal there So I got a big orange star that with a bit of imagination looked about right. We hit the beach and it was just JAM PACKED! I mean it had been busy the nights before, but last night was insane! People everywhere, music all over the place and just general chaos. The evening broke up into sections when I had my video camera and when I didn’t… and really with the amount consumption, it is only in reviewing the tape that I get some idea as to what happened.

The whole thing passed very quickly and it seemed like only an hour after getting to the beach that Martin and I were dancing in the surf watching the sun come up. Jin didn’t make it to sunset and even though we tried to load her up with water and Red Bull, no luck and she was safely passed out at the bungalow. It’s a funny thing that with all those people we actually ran in to some people we knew. Jody (who we lost almost immediately after getting to the beach) and this cool Swedish guy who we had met the day before found us on the beach and hung out for a while. One of the best lines on the video tape is him saying in all seriousness and with a great Swed accent… “You should film the breasts!” and then he told me I should “rent a Thai girl and make a porno, but then you’ll have problems getting rid of her.” (experience can be a harsh teacher I guess).

We got back to the bungalow at about 7 or 8 this morning… sat around for a bit (from photos I know that Jin was up for this) and then crashed until about 3 this afternoon. Most of tonight I’ve spent trying to figure out where the heck I should go next. I’m nearly out of money, so it’ll have to involve camping or very simplistic accomm for 100B or less. I think I might go to Ang Thong, a group of islands just west of here, and camp there for a few days. One of the islands is what the beach in The Beach is based on – as it has an inland lake fed by an underground tunnel from the ocean. But I think first I’ll head to the north end of the island and see what it’s all about – likely nothing as mostly people just come to Koh Pha Ngan for the Full Moon Parties and now that it’s done, I think it’ll be clearing out quite quickly.

Can you all believe that in 20 days I’ll be heading home? I really can’t wait. I’ve already made vows about copious amounts of pizza and pop.. I’m going to stuff myself silly.

Peace

So… nearly a week here on Koh Pha Ngan and I have to admit, the place has surprised me. I didn’t think I’d dig the 24/7 party, lazy days sitting on the beach, the topless women and copious amounts of alcohol and pretty much every other recreational pharmacutical known to man that seems to fuel the the non-stop engine of the island… but it’s actually pretty ok.

The first night here Jurgen and I hit the beach. It was great… all the beach bars just lay out mats where you can sit, drink and watch the fire shows (see my photos that are soon to follow). The best part was that, in a marketing technique I’m not entirely sure I understand, the bar gave out free drinks. It was only three, but that vodka and redbull goes right to the grey matter.

We met some girls that were going snorkling on the north end of the island the following day and were invited to tag along. Though getting up for the 9:30 meeting was a bit of a chore, it was well worth it. My underwater experiences are really limited to SCUBA diving in Lake Huron (nice wreaks, but no fish) and spending about an hour at my birthday with Brad trying to achieve nutral boyency in the middle of the deep end with a beer bottle – so, needless to say, I was eager to be impressed, and not disappointed.

First getting in the water and swimming I was a little let down as I was just confronted by sea slugs (sea cucumbers?) and some small fish… but after getting out a bit it was simply jawdroppingly beautiful (which physically is a danger when said jaw is securing your airway to the surface). I was surrounded by hundreds of fish… and the sea floor was just painted with multi-coloured coral and various other sea life. I also got to see some sting rays, which really defined the experience for me.

Unfortunately, even with a good amount of cloud cover, I got right cooked on my back and have been nursing the burn for two days. But it was worth it.

Mostly I’ve just been sitting around, reading and relaxing. I don’t feel any need to go-go-go in this place and am more than happy to finally be able to just relax… something that ironically is often hard to find when you are travelling.

Two nights ago I was getting a bit nervous about not being able to stay at the beautiful Sun Cliff bungalows that Jurgen and I called home… as he wasn’t staying for the Full Moon Party on the 6th… but rather flew to Shanghi yesterday. Fortunately I ran into a guy named Martin that wasn’t sad about leaving his bungalow and moving into the more scenic one I was offering… and today Jin showed up, so it’s now quite cheap… if not a bit crowded. But hey, it has a fridge.. I mean, a bloody fridge. So great!

I hit the Chang beer pretty hard two nights ago, but was quite well behaved. I met a girl from Sweden (not blonde!) named Jessica who REALLY reminds me of Vanessa (this brings a whole new depth to the Vanessica thing) and basically just stood on the beach by a bar playing rock music and chatted to her until about 5:30 in the morning.

I woke up mid-day yesterday with a bit of a Changover and vowed to take it easy last night… but such was not in the cards. I, again, dived into the world of Chang beer, and again was quite amazed that I woke up (a) in my bed and (b) with my contacts safely not in my face. I think getting sick helped.

Martin wasn’t so lucky. He wasn’t in his bed when I woke up, and I was just beginning to wonder where he was when the door opened and he stormed in with a hangover enduced groan, wearing only his gitch. Apparently at some point he wandered into another bungalow and was rudely awoken this morning when the owners came in…

Jin showed up at about 1:30 today and we’ve spent the day catching up on what adventures have befallen us in the week or so since I left Bangkok for Ranong (for those that don’t want to read back, Jin is a Korean girl I met on the bus from Chiang Mai and was hoping I’d meet again here).

Well.. time to go back to the room and chill out… and see how long I can resist curing this horrible churning in my gut and head with a bottle of Chang.

Peace

Go Here And Be Entertained By Images Of My Adventures…

Soon again my good friends…