Thailand Travels

Strange Things Done in the Fun and Sun

After a pathetic attempt to force the body into sleep mode, a 5:30am alarm arousal helped to focus thoughts on catching the express bus to the airport. One of the more enviable elements of the Incheon International airport is that check-in takes approximately 3 seconds. This standard of excellence is different from many other airports, which generally incur a 1-2 hour, piteous wait within the maw of anonymous, frazzled tourists. It is here Asian efficiency pulls through in full colour; a shining pinnacle of engineering and scheduling achievement.

The flight from Seoul to Bangkok was relatively painless, save for a building anticipation to get off and reach the final destination. Once disembarked (notice that in Asia, no inanely conjured word such as 'deplaning' has been created to indicate that passengers exit the vehicle), I asked where I could find the transfer gate to catch my flight to Koh Samui. An assuring "Gate 7, sir" further increased my sense of confidence in my ability to be responsible for my own well-being. Noting carefully that I had a 3 hour wait scheduled between flights, a well-deserved nap was in order. Awaking 20 minutes before my plane was scheduled to become airborne, I read the flight schedule monitors, noticing that my flight was unlisted. I was forced to ask for assistance. A calm and orderly Thai woman explained that "Sir, you're flight is at the other end of the airport. It is very far away. Maybe you should run [smiling politely]." Shocked at the deception incurred through asking for assistance on the plane, I considered this information to be far more genuine. So I shuffled my way down to the other end of the airport terminal. Reaching the checkout gate, I carefully asked the attendant if I was in the right place. He jabbered at me for a moment or two and then escorted me to a bus that was just departing. Apparently this was the last bus carrying passengers to the plane. 45 minutes later, I was inside the Koh Samui airport, which strongly resembles a small collection of modified fishing huts nestled beside a concrete runway. 20 minutes following, I was met by Lynda. It was a strange reunion, to see someone who had I had known well in the past and who had been absent for such a long time since. We spent the next 15 minutes talking about nothing in the cab and getting used to being around one another.

Thai beaches are unusually beautiful. After stepping off the ferry (or perhaps 'deboating', as some petulent bureaucrat will eventually coin) following a one night stay in Koh Samui, we grabbed a taxi and found ourselves whizzing through slopes and curving roads until we reached the bungalow palace that would be home for the next week or so on Koh Phangan. The tide at the resort travels approximately 500 meters everyday, and the beach levels off leaving pools of milky sea water and sand, which has adeptly been named Milky Bay. Dinner that night consisted of eating as much as possible, drinking fancy cocktails, and paying about $8 for it. The expensive part of traveling to Thailand is getting there. After that, options become virtually limitless.

Renting mopeds is the only way to travel on the island. It takes a few minutes to adjust to the ludicrous speeds at which Thai citizens pass each other on small dusty roads with only 2 narrow lanes. However, exhibition of speed followed by carefully timed, skilled attempts at passing help one to feel at home on the road. One point of interest is that wherever a moped is rented from, it must be brought back in the same pristine condition is was loaned in. If any mark is found on the vehicle, the locale of rental insists that it be replaced and paid for in full by the rentee. They take your passport hostage before giving you the bike, and hold it securely until all dues are paid. At the resort, I noticed 3 individuals sporting semi-serious to serious moped crash wounds and bandages. None of whom seemed to care very much. Island life does tend to take the severity out of potentially debilitating situations.

Daily life in Thailand consisted of eating full meals at every sitting, drinking casually out of hollowed pineapples, swimming in the pool oblivious to the world, walking the beach, and traveling via moped to explore as much of the island as possible. One such adventure led to the Northern-most tip of the island, where a person can find a taxi boat, whisking him or her off to an area called Bottle Beach, which is virtually inaccessible any other way. This area hosts what is arguably the most beautiful beach on the island, encased by cliffs on both sides. Another fringe offers a secluded beach with parallel coral reefs offering a trail into the sea. Once there, snorkeling gear is available, and the shallow reefs are prime location for potential fish enthusiasts. At the tip of the shore, there is an almost white sand beach that connects to another smaller island, Koh Ma. After snorkeling, eating, and then laying under the comfortable shade of a cashew tree, the idea of ever leaving seems improbable and preposterous. There are also waterfalls that can be found through 1km or so treks into the jungle and lush tropics of the island mountains. One can also find look-out areas where large rocks have been conveniently found to offer spectacular views of the shores and surrounding islands.

One particular point of interest is the difference noticed between predominantly wealthy European tourists, and the relative poverty of most of the island populace. This problem is further exascerbated when, after offering a taxi ride for 50 baht (which equals almost $1.50), pompous tourists have the gall to attempt to haggle the price. First of all, that price, when translated into almost all European and North American currencies, accounts to about fuck all. Second, to have the ability to make an attempt at decreasing that price without kicking oneself in the face out of sheer spite, is an incredible feat. Lastly, these taxi drivers make a living through driving around tourists who are basically the cause of the island's exploitation. Making an effort to cheat them out of what little money they make in the first place is an exercise in antagonism and overbearing condescension. Coupled with the fact that many people in Thailand speak some English, tourists often feel that Thailand is a place where the local people exist simply to act subserviently to them.

On one particular evening, one of the hosts of the resort offered and rallied denizens to attend a Thai boxing fiesta. This was an excellent invitation to receive. Muay Thai is fantastically interesting to watch, and the local people take it extremely seriously. There are also bucket drinks to purchase, which run about 350 baht each ($10). Bucket drinks are literally a bucket, which is then filled with red bull, whisky or vodka, and coke or sprite. It is truly a dangerous item, one that sold famously. Muay Thai has a long-standing tradition of discipline and training behind it, helping it to appear as more of a structured and noble art, as opposed to the normative 'ultimate no-rules fighting' that foreigners typically find on television.

Back for one night in Bangkok, Lynda and myself traveled to several markets, where one can find almost any item. The most enthralling of these visits told of a middle-aged Thai woman selling a table full of authentically vicious weapons. I safely procured a ninja-star knife and brass knuckles. Then I proceded to play with several machetes (sharpened), a long sword (also sharpened), and a vast array of assorted knives and axes (all of which were fully prepped for battle). I decided I needed photos to document such a momentous occasion. As I was having my photo taken, the kind and jovial Thai shopkeeper handed me a hand gun and a menacing-looking axe. I therefore gracefully accepted and proceeded to wave blades about like a true warrior. Ah, Thailand.

This vacation was also an emotional experience. Many months ago, Lynda and myself planned this trip together, holding onto a lot of both shared and individualistic notions of how the future would pan out, particularly with respect to our relationship, an on-again, off-again experience spanning large portions of the last 5 years. This type of emotional and personal investment has far-reaching consequences and will always affect the ability to make decisions. One can have particular ideas and thoughts while away from someone else, but these can change once that person is reintroduced. Honesty is key, and without it, life can often feel hollow and fragmented, further problematized by a loss of control. The final night of the Thai experience was heralded by a discussion and explanation of feelings and hopes, dreams, future aspirations, all of which were bound together by a base of emotional honesty. It was draining and intense. And we realized and worked through the problems and decisions that were necessary to address. Many people have experienced awful breakups, some have ended on amiable terms, and others opt to hate and vow childish revenge or become wrapped in self pity. Ending a relationship in one of the most beautiful places imaginable is a rare and beautiful thing. As we travel our seperate ways, I hope and trust that this will always be something to look back on and remember with intimate nostalgia.