Phuket, Thailand

We found budget accommodations at a property called Gold Diggers (go figure) on a northern Phuket beach (Nai Yang).  Although the city has a Vegas reputation, we avoided the mayhem, instead chancing upon a restaurant that we visited seven times in two days.  We learned that frequenting the same restaurant increases the service, decreases the bill, and expands our network of friends.  Plus, with a full crab dinner for $7... you get the enticement.  

After overdosing on fast food at the Kuala Lumpur airport, we relegated ourselves to more healthy fare - well, except for the 20 baht (60 cents) ice cream cones and the 80 baht ($2.50) cocktails.  Ken, inspired by his bromance with Canadian Ken, got on a workout kick so we had beach bootcamp (shout out CrossFit Calgary, Ken and Crystal it’s not the same without you!).  The equatorial sun was in full force, so Ken and Shelley’s tanning regiment went postal - he’s down to SPF 8, I know, crazy!  (I think he likes the topless Europeans and beach nap time more than anything).  

Langkawi and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Given our 30-day Thai visit reached it’s legal limit, we opted for a two-day visa-extension excursion south to Malaysia.  Exiting the country and then re-entering allowed us another 30 days in Thailand.  Another month you ask?  Really, haven’t we been there awhile?  Aren’t we getting bored?  We wised up and slowed down our travel pace... you know, really soaking up the Thai culture (if you’ve been to Thailand no explanation needed on why we’re staying so long).

Exiting Lipe island was odd on Christmas day - we were in recovery mode (refer to debauchery in previous post) and after waiting three hours to depart, our long tail boat returned only 100 meters down shore where we had to exit the boat at “immigration” aka a random Thai guy handing out exit stamps (very official).

After a rocky one hour speed boat ride we arrived at an empty beach in Malaysia.  A taxi driver assured us he would escort us to Malaysian immigration twenty miles away (why the boat didn’t drop us there instead, we’re not sure), which he did successfully.  Surprisingly, Langkawi turned out to be an Asian duty-free version of San Diego.  We soaked up some western food because after 30 days on rice and curry, a Greek salad and eggs benedict sounded awesome.  We quickly flew over to Kuala Lumpur, switched airports from domestic to international, and hunkered in for a long wait.  We intended to train into the city for sight-seeing, but (confession) we ended up chilling for eight hours at the airport given the free WIFI, A/C, and our general low-energy status.  We hopped an evening flight back into Thailand (Phuket) and voila!... we settled back into heaven (Thailand)... feels so good to be home...

Koh Lipe, Thailand (continued)

Our Hanukkah / Christmas party, while not traditional, included one of the best meals of our trip at a seaside restaurant on Sunrise Beach - we’ll just let the pictures speak for themselves!

Koh Lipe, Thailand

On our final night in Koh Muk we made the acquaintance of a Canadian couple at Chill Out Bar and ended up having a raucous night - yes that is Ken throwing fire!  After ferrying over to Koh Lipe near the Malaysian border we met up with the Canadians and again, had a few entertaining days snorkeling at our new beach, eating at various island restaurants (we found brownies to die for), and working out on the beach (surprised? ... our new friends own a Cross Fit gym in Calgary so we suffered through their brutal exercises... totally impossible on a sandy beach in 90 degree weather).  Shelley upgraded to a posh five star resort, which was marvelous for us because she let us hang at her infinity pool (we meanwhile slummed it down the beach in budget accommodations - who knew a sink was a luxury item?).  Our only disappointment seemed to be the lack of Internet - but we persevered, filling our time with other happenings: receiving massages, mastering the art of hammock sleeping, washing laundry in the shower, and scouring the island for the best banana smoothies.

Koh Muk, Thailand

It was an inauspicious sign when all the boat passengers cancelled due to inclement weather - but we naively proceeded, reassuring ourselves as we stumbled onto the long tail boat in the light morning mist.  Fast forward... have you ever visited Six Flags (or equivalent) on some form of “log-boat ride” where, along with screaming ten-year-old kids, the boat careens through “waterfalls” and you’re essentially submerged by buckets of water while you try not to drown?  At the end of the four minute ride, all the ten-year-olds scream, “Again! Again!” and queue up for more water torture?  The designer of that ride must have gained inspiration from our Koh Ngai to Koh Muk boat journey.  Suffice to say, there was a reason everyone else canceled. 

Picture: Ken desperately clutched his electronics swearing to himself about waterproof bags he didn’t have, I white knuckled the boat edge for stability, and Shelley (head down) gave up on dryness and settled for “arrival to destination.”  Forty five minutes into an hour long ride the boatman covered our drenched backpacks with a large tarp - what! ...hello! ...where was that tarp for the last forty five minutes!?!?  Drenched with an extra ten pounds of water weight in our packs, we washed ashore like castaways on a hermit crab filled beach.  Shelley, pointed towards a heavenly oasis (aka bar stools on the beach) and gasped “Need... bloody... mary.”

The Portuguese bartender / dive shop owners welcomed us with open arms and we quickly got the lay of the island within a day:

• One snooty resort - that we decided to boycott
• One tiny Muslim fisherman village - in a tropical jungle the houses were built on stilts above a sea of mud and chickens (a stark contrast to point one)
• A handful of cheap bungalows at $12 per night: snakes, lizards, you get the idea... we were in a jungle, people!
• Rubber plantation (contributes to animal issue in point three)
• No Internet  
• No ATMs

Regarding the last point, Shelley and I long-boated it (can that be a verb?) to the mainland in search of the elusive ATM.  The five hour excursion included a minibus near-crash, a full size oxen in the back of a pickup truck, a fifteen minute speed shopping challenge on a Saturday afternoon with thousands of women at the Thai equivalent of Wal-Mart, and a chicken fighting tournament (the last we did not partake in, but glimpsed from the road).

Shelley, our social butterfly, expanded our wolf pack to include an American couple (South Dakota / Sconie combo) and two Irish; we became fast friends, as there was only one bar on the beach (Chill Out) and the weather was unfavorable.  Making the most of it by hiring a local fisherman, our group of seven boated to a nearby cave where we swam through darkness to discover a hidden beach.  In the evening the best flame thrower (in all Thailand, we presumptuously claim) mesmerized us and we ate family-style for $3 each at the best (only) restaurant in town (Mayow).

Inspired by the tropical environment and cheap prices, a few days ago, Ken took a German-speaking scuba dive trip to Hin Daeng and Hin Muang - he defends it as some of the best coral in the world: vibrant purples and luminescent yellows that overshadowed even the most exotic fish (side note: no, he does not speak German).  Shelley and the American couple signed up for a three-day scuba certification course; meanwhile, Ken and I swam, snorkeled, and experimented with the following:

• What is the ideal DEET (toxic mosquito repellant) percentage that wards off the jungle but won’t kill you?
• Can we wean ourselves down from SPF 45 to 15?
• How can we befriend the owner of the only yacht anchored a few yards off shore?

Scuba School on their 1st dive

Koh Ngai, Thailand

To be carefree is endemic to this place.  There’s no where to go, even if you wanted to.  I can’t explain why we’re here - it occurred that we were on a ferry, a bus, a plane (I can’t recall) and a person mentioned a place called Ngai.  Or Hai... the locals can’t decide what to call it.  The island, a gift to a general from the Thai government, has only developed within the last five years as the grandchildren inherited the paradise.

We arrived via ferry and leapt over choppy waves onto a long tail boat, which brought us and our packs to the narrow shore.  There’s nothing on the deserted beach, except for eight unpretentious hotels on the eastern shore, the bungalows all occupied by European newlyweds and retirees escaping the Phuket madness.  The island’s only bar is run by a French couple, along with their 14-year old son who moonlights as a flame thrower and chases after 16-year old bored Swedish girls humiliated to vacation with their parents. 

The electricity is via generator and the water is turned off when the hotel cleans the breakfast dishes.  Crickets high in the palm trees sound their blood curtailing screeches if the air gets too hot.  The moon is new so the extreme spring tides recede 100 meters out to the fertile, shallow, coral reef.  There are no lights on the beach; we use an iPhone app to light our way home.   The turquoise water is home to giant clams and sea cucumbers, but there are no stingers so snorkeling is pleasant.  The tanning regiment has developed with military precision.  The shower water runs through bamboo tubes and footwear (besides sandals) is superfluous.  Boatmen deliver supply boxes once per day if the sea agrees.  At breakfast, the gorgeous Thai girl makes our toast over an open BBQ flame.  The spicy papaya salad burns lips, and like an addict, we cannot stop eating and must suffer the consequences after every meal.  The dial up internet reminds  us of a simpler, less assuming time.

I can’t explain where we’re going.   Someone at the bar last night, under the full moon and reggae music, leaked a tale about an untouched beach.  It’s that island off in the distance... if we can find a fisherman for a lift.... maybe we’ll go in a few days, there’s no rush.

Koh Lanta, Thailand

With hundreds of islands to choose from, it was overwhelming to select an initial beach destination - but we hit the jackpot with our choice of Koh Lanta, an island located off the Andaman Coast known for it’s long white beaches and relaxed vibe.  We found an ideal bungalow on the beach surrounded by banana and papaya trees, run by a cheerful owner named Annie - who didn’t speak much English but nonetheless won our hearts.

Our mornings started with a run on the beach (thanks to Shelley for encouraging the workout regiment); followed by a coffee-toast-fruit breakfast served on our porch; then sun tanning, swimming, and the occasional vespa scooter ride into “town.”  We travelled the island by scooter (my favorite activity - I even nicknamed the scooters Matilda and Max), sampled several massage huts (Ken’s favorite... although we were not fans of the flesh-eating fish pedicures), and lounged on the 3-km long beach (Shelley’s favorite).  On afternoons when the rains came, we escaped to our air conditioned cabin and watched The Biggest Loser on the computer, praying to the sun god to return.  For lunches we devoured spicy Thai food - BBQ’d fish or chicken with noodles or rice - and ate dinners at beachfront restaurants where we admired the ocean waves and discussed important issues of the day: should we or should we not order more mojitos?  We became regulars at two beachfront bars (The Indian’s and Yeah’s Place), where a Shelley vs. Ken flaming-ball-throwing-competition would ultimately ensue ...ok, so not the safest of bar time activities.  

One day we hopped a ferry over to Phi Phi island, one of the most beautiful beaches although unfortunately significantly over-touristed for our tastes (...“you need boat taxi? you need boat taxi?”).  

Back at Lanta, Shelley surprised us with a sky lantern, an airborne paper lantern released over the nighttime ocean for good luck.  Each evening strolling the peaceful beach, breathing the hot salty air, and gazing out on the pink sunset our mantra became, “I can’t believe we’re here, I can’t believe we’re here.”  At the end of our weeklong stay, our reluctancy to leave was intense; however, we look forward to island hopping adventures until our visas run out after 30 days.  We vowed to return to our unrivaled Thai oasis of Koh Lanta, timing unknown.

Bangkok, Thailand (cont.)

Our initial impressions of Bangkok (and remember we arrived from Varanasi, India): exceptionally clean and organized with a shiny, modern sky-train; 7/11 store on every corner; friendly smiling Thai faces; hot and humid weather (Hawaii-esque) contrasted against Shelley’s first impressions (and remember she arrived first class on United with a hired private car from the airport): uneasiness for unknown surroundings - we maintain she read the “warnings and annoyances” section of Lonely Planet book too often... she brought a whistle, enough said.  We couldn’t harass her too badly though, as her packing skills put us to shame (guess who’s bag is who’s).  Plus, she “muled” over six kilos of mail, holiday cards, presents, Kindle Touch, flash drive, and a much coveted US Weekly.  

We cashed in my points for two free nights stay at the opulent Millennium Hilton - the most extravagant hotel we’d ever stayed at, complete with glutinous breakfast buffet, exclusive rooftop bar and spacious infinity pool.  Shelley arrived, surprisingly not jet-lagged, at midnight to our Wolfpack Welcome Wagon of beer and Dunkin’ Donuts.  

The Hilton’s lighting fast Internet speed tempted Ken’s weak spot: he downloaded five movies and nearly crashed our hard drive.  Shelley be-lined for tanning at the rooftop pool overlooking the Chao Phraya skyline.  I spent the day addressing holiday cards; unfortunately, Ken wasn’t too thrilled when the postage bill equalled an amount which could have sustained us for twelve days in Thailand (thankfully, the cost of living is minimal with the $1 lunches, $11 hotel rooms, and $3 dresses).  Ken also succumbed to a weakness for painful but healing Thai massages - although can you blame him at $5 per hour?  Shelley and I laughed because his favorite masseuse was an older, rough-on-the-eyes lady (apparently the young one, while easy-on-the-eyes, didn’t have the same manly strength for his knotted muscles).

After the extravagance of the Millennium we came back to reality with a standard hotel on backpackers row (Khao San) aka Bangkok’s Fisherman’s Wharf and visited the tourist sights (Grand Palace, Emerald Buddha, and Reclining Buddha) as all the fanfare for the King’s birthday (Dec 5) celebration swirled around us.  We shipped a load of winter clothes back to the U.S. and stocked up on tank tops, dresses, shorts and flip flops (Sheila, we cross our fingers you get a package from us in about three months).

Dining on spicy food (sometimes too spicy with peppers burning our lips and making our noses run), we sipped cold Singha beer for relief and outlined our next week’s itinerary.  We settled on beach bumming - so Ken tracked down cheap flights to the southern seaside village of Krabi.  We took a one night layover at a budget hotel (with a deranged rooster relentlessly crowing outside our window all night) before ferrying two hours over to the island of heaven of Koh Lanta.