Even though I was seeing these guys almost every night at some points, it never got old.  And it was a lot of fun to increase the exposure on my camera and try to capture the motion and trails of the fire.

Haad Rin (beach), Koh Phangan

Haad Rin (beach), Koh Phangan

Haad Rin (beach) on Koh Phangan

Half Moon Party, Koh Phangan

Half Moon Party, Koh Phangan

Lighting a cigarette, the hard way - Half Moon Party, Koh Phangan

Koh Phi Phi Don

Koh Phi Phi Don

Koh Tao

Koh Phi Phi Don

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Below is what I wrote 6 months ago while waiting at the train station to leave Chiang Mai for Bangkok, Thailand.  Steve is the guy who I was doing photography work with in Bangkok.

“Today has been a new one for me here in Chiang Mai.  I came up here with a friend to shoot some photos of the area.  We had been staying at a recently renovated hotel called The Mercure and were using it as a base for going out to sites in extreme northern Thailand.

We had gotten to Chiang Mai late evening and for 800 baht per night ($22.50 USD) it came with 4 stars and breakfast.  Normally this would be over my budget but Steve wanted to stay there because he knew a friend who was a teacher from Bangkok that was bringing her class, 100+ students, to do a music show there for a week.  She made all the arrangements and we were given the same discounted price as the school was getting.  So for a little more and being such a nice hotel I was ok with it.  After all I was thinking it’s ok sometimes to splurge and not stay in a $5, steamy hot, hostel room.

Hotel Room in Chiang Mai

The second night we went to the night market and shot the flowers there, which Chiang Mai is known famously for.  Steve wasn’t up for much walking that night and since it was my first night out I went out on my own to see the rest of the market.  I got rained in and took cover at a little bar for a few hours, then made my way back to the hotel.  It put me back kind of late but overall I had a good night and got some great pictures.

The next morning, I woke up with a whole bunch of sores on my upper body.  Mainly along my arms/back and to me it looked like mosquito bites.  The thing that got me was that the night before I never really remember the little zappers bothering me much.  They itched like hell the next morning and I decided I would take some precautions when out at night again (something I hardly ever do).

I told Steve about the bites that morning and he said maybe they were bed bugs.  Never really thought it was that but that night while laying in bed it had me freaked…was I sleeping with a 1,000 little body munchers???  It freaked me so much that I ended up sleeping in my clothes that night and every time a hair on my body twitched I was turning on the light.  Made for a long night and the next day I just chopped it up as a “Steve story.”

We got out early the next day and headed further north to Changi Rai and spent the day shooting The White Temple (fantastic place by the way!).  Got back and had a ton of pictures to edit.  When done I decided to watch a season of Dexter and hit the sack.  I’m lying there watching a movie on my laptop and somehow I saw this little bug the size of a pinhead move on the bed (I guess I have 15/20 vision).  I got on all fours and scooped it up and put it into a glass.  Was this me being paranoid?  Had to find out so I started tearing the bed apart, first the sheets, then the under sheets, pillows flipped, then flipped the bed too and after 20min I had 8 bugs in my glass.  A few the size of a small lady bug but there isn’t anything cute about them.

This was the evidence I was hoping I wouldn’t find.  I knew 100% what had eaten me up 2 nights before.  I went into the bathroom and started counting the bites…I stopped at 98!!!  I wasn’t so much mad as I just didn’t want to be there.  My plan was to go to the hospital and confirm for sure what it was, then confront the hotel about it the next day.  One thing for sure was that I wasn’t lying in that bed again.

34 bites just on this side of the arm

Stayed up for as long as I could but just couldn’t make it and ended up curling up in the corner of the room, on a chair like a crack head, using a bathrobe as a blanket.  I felt like some bum on the street in my own hotel room that I was paying good money for the night’s stay.

Called Steve the next morning in his room and we went to the hospital.  Within 5sec the doctor confirmed what I thought.  She told me things like this happen but not to worry, as they carry no diseases that I wasn’t already vaccinated for.   Total cost for doctors visit was about 500 baht ($15 USD) and with the cream and meds she prescribed for me it came to about 1,500 baht ($42 USD) total.  Pretty cheap doctor visit and was happy about that.

Went back to the hotel and Steve told me the hotel would pay for all the doctor costs and move me into a new “clean” room.  Screw that I thought!  You don’t eat twice at a restaurant that gets you sick, because if it happens again it’s your own fault for knowing.   I loaded all my clothes into one bag (had to get them all washed with some really hot scolding water, as I had bought some new ones on the way back from the hospital) and was ready to get out of that place.  Steve kept trying to get me to stay but what sane person would and in the end I decided to just leave and head back to Bangkok early.  We were supposed to leave the next day but I didn’t see the point of renting another hotel room (no way in hell I was staying in that hotel another night) just to ride back with him.

So as I write this now I’m at the Chiang Mai train station and getting ready for an over night train ride in a seat….errrr!  It’s going to be murder but a seat was all they had left and the thought of sleeping in my safe bed was enough to merit the cost.” ~ Written 29May09

Hope this doesn’t discourage people from traveling.  I have been on every continent in the world (except for Antarctica), stayed in some really nice hotels to some really dodgy hostels and this is the first time anything like this has happened.  It happened in a place I thought it wouldn’t,  as if it had occurred in a $4 hostel bed I could at least say it was a cheap room and that’s what I get for being cheap.  It won’t stop me from traveling but I think I’ll invest in a silk blanket to give me a buffer zone.  The joys of traveling outweigh anything like this but it’s not something I want to experience again.

The worst part for me wasn’t the scars I had to wear for a month…it was the physiological part that took hold of my mind.  I didn’t sleep in my own bed back in Bangkok for the rest of the time and it really did take me about 3 months before I could get a good nights sleep again.

Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite… brings a whole new meaning to me now.

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Leaving Maya Bay (aka The Beach)

I recently got to sit down (over Skype) with Dave who is the Editor-in-Chief of this site to talk about his experiences in SouthEast Asia.  I was curious about what I might be in for, but after talking to Dave, I’m much less anxious about leaving for Asia.

During the interview, we talk about his time in the islands of Thailand, scams, souvenirs, eating dog, getting sick on the road and much, much more. Thanks again to Dave for taking the time to talk about his travels.

[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

If you have any questions that weren’t covered in the interview, please feel free to suggest them below in the comments.

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Drafting a travel itinerary

A side effect of having a thirst for travel is that it will always be unquenchable. You will never be able to see everything, experience everything; there will always be so much you miss.  That is why your itinerary is so important and yet so difficult to set.

If you read my article on how to research for a trip you’ll know that I go through a great number of resources and have a lot of travel content coming to me on a daily basis.  As a result, my visit list for any given locale is longer than most from the outset.  This is both good and bad.  On one hand I have a great start for my itinerary, yet when it comes time for cuts to be made it makes it that much harder to skip over destinations you’ve dreamt about for months, maybe even years.  Such is the life of a budget backpacker.

Create a Map

The first step is always to add my destinations to Google Maps so you get a map similar to mine.  There is one main advantage to this exercise; you can see very easily what a suitable route would be.  Look for where to start, where to end, how to eliminate backtracking and find any destinations that aren’t reachable from your other destinations.

There is something to be said for travelers without a strict itinerary, but you still need to have a general idea of how you are going to travel the region.  You do not want to end up like a backpacker friend of mine whose route after 6 months in Europe looked similar to several Stars of David.  He wasted a lot of time criss-crossing the continent several times. You should try to choose a route that flows and doesn’t require retracing your steps. If you decide on a round trip plane ticket, a circle of some sort is often ideal.

Use Paper

I always start by writing my newly created itinerary down on paper. Using paper makes it much easier to brainstorm and adjust the first iteration of your plan.  Above you can see what my first draft looked like. Pretty? Not in the least, but it’s functional and allowed me to plan freely. Use a guidebook to look at the activities and sights for each destination, and make an educated guess on how many nights you will spend there.  A good tip is to plan by the number of nights you will stay rather than days, as they can get confusing if you move around a lot or go on day trips.

For my South-East Asia trip, I was trying to stuff a little too much into my time frame, though this was exaggerated as I have a full week of unbudgeted time built into my proposed 120-day schedule.  This was one of the biggest problems with my trip to Europe, I was tightly budgeted and although it was an excellent itinerary, not too fast or too slow, it afforded me no flexibility, and I wasn’t able to stay long in the German Alps like I wanted.

Ask for Feedback

Slimming down your route is full of hard choices but you can make it easier on yourself.  You’re not alone; if you’re going there, then someone else has already been there.  Now is the time to bounce your itinerary off as many other travelers as possible.  The Boots’n All forums as well as other location specific travel forums are a great start; any feedback will help you grasp the situation.

One of my biggest problems was that I couldn’t get a handle on how much time I should be spending in the major cities of the region, unlike Europe where a 4-5 day rule is fairly universal.  I was lost so I turned to my fellow travelers on Boots’n All, and they responded in spades, with more detail then I would have expected.

Just like reading an essay out loud will help you find typos, explaining an itinerary in detail to a travel partner or friend will help you bring holes and unnecessary destinations to light.  This is what I did when I bounced my proposed itinerary off my buddy Richard who will be joining me for some of the time I’m in South-East Asia.

Prioritize

If you’re looking to make cuts, then focus on destinations that you don’t immediately gush about. If you’re not excited at home, what are the chances that it’ll be any better on the ground?  This is exactly what I did with Railay Bay, a beautiful destination known as a rock climbing mecca.  Me and heights aren’t always on speaking terms, so that was an easy decision.

Any place that only has one reason for you to going may need reconsideration; if it’s not a major reason then it’s probably not worth your time.  Phuket got cut down to one night because of this. The only real reason for going is to witness the spectacle of the sex tourism industry;  the entire stop is basically an exercise in laughing at sex tourists.  Even at one night, I’m still considering just axing the whole island.

Relax

It is important to remember through the whole process that even if you must cut some destinations, you will return with nothing but good memories, and any disappointment will fade quickly when you remember what you did experience.

Though mostly set, my itinerary is still in flux, and will likely stay that way until I leave. Once I’m on the ground it will change drastically:  travel mishaps happen, my usually ironclad stomach may fail me, a civil war could escalate, or the proposed elections in Burma could throw the country into turmoil.  The flexibility I have built into my plan should allow me to bounce back from setbacks, and with any luck I’ll finish my stint in Hanoi with time to visit another tiny South-East Asian country.

You can review current iteration of my schedule on Google Docs.  Feel free to comment or ask questions.

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While in Thailand, I took a trip up north to Chiang Rai to see a temple that has a lot of controversy surrounding it.  Wat Rong Khun, also known as The White Temple, is still under construction and when completed, will have 9 buildings total (as of now there is only 1 completed).

The controversy that surrounds this temple is that:

1. The temple was a donation from a rich Thai businessman but Chalermchai Kositpipat was the artist who built it.  He changed the original plans and added his own thoughts on how the temple should look.
2. Unlike any wat or temple you will find in Thailand, this one had a unique theme running through it.  The pit with all the hands is a representation of hell.  The murals inside the temple are very modern and contemporary, which shows things like McDonald’s, satellites, and human sperm.  The message is what people in life are consumed by, and what they need to do to let go of this consummation and be happy.

Traditional Buddhists don’t agree with the artist, but it’s hard to argue as it has put Chiang Rai on the map for both Thais and tourists.  It’s a must see temple, and for me I like to call it the “Taj Mahal of Thailand.”  If you are near Chiang Mai, make the 2-hour trip further North/East and spend a day there.  Even if you have been temple’d out while in Asia, you won’t regret seeing this place, and the photo opportunities are endless.

• Open Daily : 8:00 am- 6:00 pm
• Tel: 0 5367 3579
• Fax: 0 5367 3539
• Brochure can be downloaded here

Passing the pit of hell into the temple.

The bridge from hell to heaven

Would you believe this isn't another temple...it's the bathrooms!

Statues from the pit of hell

Everything was in plain concrete except for the middle finger that was painted red. Now you know why their is so much controversy over this temple.

This is the best anti-smoking statue I have ever seen.

At first I thought this was an offering to the Gods

...but no it wasn't. Just telling you that you can't smoke here and that smoking is for the devil.

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Backpack Boomerang website

We’ve all been there:

Things got a little rowdy on your last night in (insert location here).  What was meant as a farewell toast transformed into a memorable, though fuzzy evening, and with daylight imminent, you frenetically pack your bags, hand over cash for the room you called home, and sprint to make the train time scribbled on the back of your hand.

Breathing that sigh of relief when you claim your seat, heavy bags safely stowed, you dig into your luggage to check the time on your phone.

Wait.

You packed your phone, right?

That sense of hopeless and impending doom that rides in with the realization that an important belonging has been lost is not a pleasant one.  Sadly, it is a feeling that many travelers become acquainted with at least once throughout their journeys.

That’s where Backpack Boomerang comes in, a team of seasoned backpackers whose mission is to reunite wandering travelers with their belongings that have wandered away.

The method is simple: if you’ve lost an item, head to their website and click on the “losers” tab, fill in a few pertinent details about it and yourself, and wait patiently for a response.  Likewise, if you’ve found an item, the “finders” page asks that you do the same.

The network currently operates in Thailand only, but the creators hope to expand throughout the Southeast Asian region – and then the world.  Of course, success is dependent on equal support from finders, as well as losers, but the grassroots concept is one that should appeal to the friendly disposition of the average traveler.  Backpack Boomerang isn’t there to take away precious pennies or force any signatures; they’re simply providing a new way to connect one backpacker to another, all while keeping our possessions in the right hands.

So, travelers, we’re curious.  Chime in: have you lost an irreplaceable belonging on one of your excursions?  Share your tale of woe, and next time, perhaps Backpack Boomerang can lend a hand.

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6:17 pm – Bangkok Airport

I was shopping till the bitter end! Impulsive. Wasteful? Not necessarily. Got a lot done today. Feeling a bit tired, but almost ready to go through security to the gate. The bus had broken down so I shared a taxi with a German woman from Stuttgart and a free-spirited French woman from Chamonix. The driver had us pay the highway toll to avoid traffic, and then drove like a bat out of hell.

Based on Air Qatar’s commercials claiming 5-star service, I expected a great (though long) trio of flights. I got a window seat the whole way, just in case you can spot a herd of antelope from 40,000 feet.

Bangkok, Thailand to Doha, Qatar = 3,304 miles / 6 hours 40 minutes

11:56 pm – Doha Airport

Here I am at the Qatar airport. It’s bright, busy, and my laptop can’t be charged as I forgot my AC adapter!

The flight service was great. Video on demand and good food. I caught Indiana Jones IV and Meet Bill. I even got a wink or two of sleep. The empty seat next to me didn’t hurt either. 6 hours lay ahead. I can read, I can listen to music, I can nod off. I can use a credit card to buy food thus avoiding the need to obtain local currency.

6:00 am – Doha Airport

Fifteen minutes from Gate 6 opening and taking a shuttle bus to the airplane. The last 6-7 hours have been dreary. I managed 1-2 hours of sleep in a contorted position around the arm rests on the seats. Checked my email a few times. My brother sent me a belated birthday present (thanks Jon!) and my friend Kai’s friend emailed me back regarding a side trip to visit him in Botswana. Hopefully it will be affordable to make my way up there.

I’m hungry again, and looking forward to saying Jo’burg (short for Johannesburg) with some authority. And so grateful Warren is picking me up at the Cape Town airport.

The flight from Doha to Jo’burg goes over a ton of countries: Saudi Arabia, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Mozambique, Malawi and Zimbabwe.

Doha, Qatar to Jo’burg, South Africa = 4,156 miles / 8 hours

12:25 pm (South African time)

Knees hurt. Full belly after decent chicken lunch (with yummy tiramisu dessert). Cold, tired, a bit unwell. It’d be best for me to get a good night’s rest.

Jo’burg to Cape Town = 807 miles / 2 hours

5:50 pm – Cape Town Airport

Major snafu for me. I don’t have any proof of onward travel, so no entry. I was just told I need to buy a ticket out of the country tonight. I guess this was bound to happen at some point – I was being too relaxed!

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As I cleaned up after the trek, I spotted a television ad for South Africa on CNN International or BBC World.  My anticipation continued to grow.  I must find out first hand whether Leonardo DiCaprio did the South African accent justice in Blood Diamond!

I spent a quiet night uploading photos at a cute cafe next door to my guest house before departing the following afternoon for Bangkok via train.  It turned out to be a longer trip by a few hours, and more expensive, than if I had taken the bus, however I wanted to try something different.  The 2AC sleeper train cars were narrower than in India, yet the staff made your bed and I took advantage of the dinner and breakfast service.  I also appreciated the purple curtains which offered a sense of privacy.  The scenery during the first few hours was green and hilly.

Back in Bangkok for the third time, I took a room at the same place I stayed before with Josi and Catharine, The Rambutri Village.  I ran lots of little errands like buying more mp3’s, looked for scorpions at night (I found a bug cart, but they guy told me to come back in a week), overhauled my wardrobe with the finest threads Th Kho San Road has to offer, and enjoyed a few last meals (banana pancakes w/honey, spicy mossaman curry with chicken and rice, coconut shake, etc.).

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I slept better the second night, and we ate a solid scrambled eggs, toast, and watermelon breakfast. Our time spent walking in the forest the final day was all of 15 minutes. I kid you not! It may well have been the most relaxing trek ever. I think it would be better characterized as a cultural hike. The term “trek” can then be reserved for longer distances and time walking per day.

The benefit of less walking was the incorporation of the elephant rides on day 2, and rafting on day 3. Monse and I were nauseated by the truck ride upriver, but we were treated to exciting sections of whitewater. The rubber rafting lasted about 30 minutes, of which a solid 20 were in rapids.

When I asked our Thai river guide about the class of the final rapid, he didn’t understand me, only characterizing it as the “big” one. Left to my own judgment, I’d say we hit a few Class III’s and maybe a Class IV. The cool part was there was barely any work involved. We were just along for the ride, and when the rapids ended, we switched to a traditional bamboo raft for a 20 minute ride along a calmer section.

Once we were out of the river, pad thai lunches were consumed and we drove an hour and a half to a waterfall near Chiang Mai. A few of the other guys slid on their butts down the waterfall in the center of the photo above, though only the local did the cliff jump. I didn’t feel comfortable doing either at this particular waterfall and sat them out.

Day 3 concluded with drop-offs back in Chiang Mai. I took a room at a nicer hotel (sorry Kent) to catch up on rest as I had a night train booked to Bangkok the following day.

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Sleeping in the authentic way of the villagers was not particularly restful. I tossed and turned all night. In the morning, chickens were running around under the platform we slept on. Tea and coffee were available, while breakfast consisted of toast and a hard-boiled egg.

Our group and the other trekked together for the 1.5 hours to the elephant camp. Once at the camp, we split up with half the people riding elephants on the opposite side of the river, and half on the restaurant side (which was adjacent a paved road).

Unfortunately, I was amongst the group on the road side. Myself and an Israeli guy climbed aboard a monstrous elephant while the trainer sat on its head. Unlike the ride in Laos, this experience included the elephant feeding on two or three occasions while we moved along. The sheer power of their trunks to pull apart foliage (heck trees) and carry them along while munching away was a sight to behold.

Much of the walk was along the pavement with cars and tuktuks driving past us. It was a bit of a letdown for me and the Spanish couple. After about 30 minutes, the guides parked the elephants off the road and dismounted them for a smoke break. When I motioned to them to ask about why we were just sitting there, they said “5 more minutes.”

Either they didn’t explain that this was an opportunity for us to get use to the elephants without the trainers on their heads (which was the way they would walk us back), or they were really taking a selfish smoke break at the expense of the tourists’ experience. I felt completely unsafe on our massive pachyderm, though he stayed practically still unlike Monse and Xavier’s.

Did I mention there was no rope or safety bar to hold us on the seating platform?

Once we arrived safely back at the docking station, the Israeli fed our boy some bananas, while I tried my hardest to reach out and pet his trunk. As you can see in the photo, I’m still developing a sense of comfort around these funny looking animals.

The elephant show was a sad sight. I took photos, and clapped on queue, but felt bad for these mighty creatures which were reduced to playing the harmonica or throwing lawn darts at balloons with their trunks.

The Japanese girls departed, and my group adopted the Israeli from the first night. We then merged with a group of 9 Argentinians and a Chilean for the 1.5 hour walk to the second village. Some of them spoke better English then others, though Spanish was now the common language leaving the Israeli and I by the wayside.

We arrived in mid-afternoon at the second camp. There was absolutely nothing to do. After reflecting on this fact, some people talked while others napped. Dinner came around and it was thankfully better than the previous night. The South Americans’ guide was a happy-go-lucky guy who all but shouted his passing commentary and jokes. He was the social leader for the night.

To start us off, some villagers arrived in traditional dress and sang some songs as quite a few of us (but not me) danced in a ring around the fire. Then, the guide had us playing campfire games with the loser having to sing or dance. It was silly and embarrassing, especially when I couldn’t come up with a song to sing on my own after losing one of the games.

Monse lead us later in a few others, including one I had played on my Nepal rafting trip. The entertainment was much better this second night, and we all retired around 10pm.

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Chiang Mai is plastered with advertisements for treks in the surrounding area, especially north and west of the city. Like tubing in Vang Vieng, and visiting the Killing Fields in Cambodia, trekking in northern Thailand is on most backpackers’ itinerary for Southeast Asia.

Expecting the quality and prices of all the 3-day treks to be similar, I booked my trip through one of the first travel agents I came across a few days earlier. In another case of spending money unnecessarily, I bought a pair of knock-off Teva sandals at the Sunday market thinking I could then leave my sneakers and flip flops behind. To save you the suspense, they only served to quickly cut my two littlest toes as they weren’t properly broken in.

I was picked up in a pick-up that already held a Spanish (technically Catalonian I would learn) couple, Xavier and Monse (pronounced “moan-say”). We also added two Japanese women to the mix, however their English was very limited and they had only signed up for the 2-day trek.

We stopped (like everyone else starting their trek that morning) at a butterfly/orchid garden outside of town. And then it was off to the countryside where before we even began walking, it was time to sit down and eat a lunch of fried rice with chicken. Our guide reclined restfully, which would become a trend.

Lunch devoured, we strapped on our daypacks and headed off. I spotted our one and only snake while we were still in view of the lunch spot. Unfortunately, it had been squashed dead by a motorbike.  We passed all sorts of locally grown crops such as bananas, coffee, and avocados.

We walked a total of 3 hours to reach the Karen tribe village, however we had 1.5 hours worth of breaks along the way. Xavier, Monse, and I all began to get frustrated with the slow pace. The Spanish couple were also on a trip around the world, already having trekked to Machu Picchu in Peru, climbed a 6,000 meter peak in Bolivia, and most recently done a short village trek in Burma. More on them later!

Once we reached the village, I was surprised at how small it was. It was Xavier, not our guide, who pointed out that the Karen people are persecuted in Burma, and thus seek refugee status in Thailand. They are allowed to own livestock and earn money from tourism, though not grow crops. The women are known for their long necks.

It was also Xavier who pointed out the net game akin to volleyball though played without hands is popular in Burma, though I’d seen it being played all over Southeast Asia. We all took turns knocking the ball around with the guide and a few of the guys in the village.

In one instance, I kicked my left leg up and out (muay thai style), only to have my right foot slip completely out from under me. I was horizontal for a brief moment before I came crashing down on my right forearm and hip. It might have been less embarrassing if it hadn’t just been me and the guide playing with everyone else watching!

Our accommodations in the village were basic (which is the point, of course). We were surprised to find a few cold water showers existed, while the toilets were squat style. Another group of trekkers arrived and set up in a bigger structure. Dinner was served by candlelight, and once I started to find bits of chicken bone in the curry, I lost my desire to eat in the relative dark. After the meal, most people sat around the campfire talking for a period of time, though in anticlimactic fashion, everyone was in bed by the early hour of 9pm.

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After the tigers got my adrenaline pumping, I took the tuktuk driver up on a suggested stop at the local shooting range. He mentioned they have machine guns, and I couldn’t resist. I know Cambodia is (or use to be) the popular place to fire a few rounds from an AK-47, but I wasn’t in the mood to fire automatic weapons during my time there.

Thailand, on the other hand, is all about having fun.

I walked into the small office and checked out the weaponry on hand. Pistols, a rifle, and a few shotguns. I held the pump-action shotgun, but I didn’t think I was ready for it yet. I walked out since they didn’t seem to have what I wanted.

A minute or two later, a plump 12-year old Thai kid (whose role at the range was anyone’s guess) came to the door with a modified M-16 and asked if it interested me. Now we’re talking, I thought. He also showed me a modified 9mm with a longer barrel and laser scope. Holding the pistol and pointing the little red laser, I was reminded of how cool Arnold was in the original Terminator.

Ultimately, it was the machine gun I wanted to experience, so I bought 25 rounds and fired them off in two separate spurts. The instructor told me the ammo was just a tad smaller in caliber than an M-16 round (.22 vs .223 caliber), and with a smaller shell casing. I did not ask why the rifle had been modified, though I suspected it had to do with the cost of ammunition (any gun aficionados out there care to chime in?).

Pow, pow, pow. The gun felt easier to fire than the 9mm I tried back on Phuket, and with less kickback. Unfortunately, I ran out of rounds before I got to try the automatic setting.

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If you’re like me, you can’t get enough of these cute little tigers cubs.

For the higher quality (much clearer) version, you have to visit YouTube and manually click “watch in high quality” just underneath the lower right corner of the video box. While you’re there, please consider subscribing to my YouTube channel!

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Wow! What a morning. I woke up sore from the muay thai but got washed and breakfast at The Corner Restaurant. I wanted to go to Tiger Kingdom when it opened, and my plan paid off. I was one of the first people in the cages. I decided to go all out and pay for 15 minutes with the big tigers, small, and cubs, plus a photographer for the big ones.

The big ones were BIG! No safety speech given, just walked into the cage and told to pet them from behind – tail, body, or rear feet. No flash photography. And because it’s clearly not obvious to some people, no putting body parts in the tigers’ mouthes.

The Tiger Kingdom has been open 6 years, and once the tigers reach about 16 months, they’re turned over to a Thai zoo because they’re deemed to big and strong for photo ops with tourists (and to control in general). The older ones were about 10-11 months old, weighing around 160-180 pounds. I remember one was named pancake. Big paws.

The staff had me lying down with them all. I felt incredibly vulnerable. Somehow sitting up, I felt slightly better positioned to fend off a wayward paw, though either way I sensed the tigers could knock my head off in seconds.

While getting my last photo with 2 big ones, I started to smell a foul odor, only to realize the one nearest me had farted. I took that as my queue to exit their regal presence, while the staff member nearby laughed and said they like to do that a lot.

Flickr set of photos by cameraman (big tigers only)

The smaller 5-month old tigers were just as docile, though more malleable in their deep sleep, according to the staff.

The 1-month old tiger cubs were cute and playful. One even started nibbling on me, biting the inside of my right arm (ouch!), leaving a noticeable bruise as a reminder of our time together.

There were 4-5 other tourists in the cage while I basically had the first two to myself. Eventually they left and I had a few minutes alone with the cubs (aside from the handlers).

Visiting the Tiger Kingdom was one of the coolest experiences of my life, and I highly recommend it if you’re planning to visit northern Thailand. Spending time up close and personal with the cats was incredibly intimidating, as even the cubs proved to have a strong (albeit playful) bite.

The enclosures where we saw the tigers seemed small, though they were immaculately clean. I didn’t think to ask if there was additional land in the surrounding area for them to stretch their legs. All of the tigers looked healthy, and while big cats are known for their sleepy tendencies, I didn’t in any way sense that they had been drugged (as has been rumored at another tiger facility for tourists in Thailand).

My photos on Flickr (all tiger sizes)

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#15 – From Jay:

I dare you to take a Walk In Muay Thai class for one day. It will be the best workout of your life, and it is fairly cheap! Since you are in Phuket, may I suggest Rawai Muay Thai, or Tiger Muay Thai? They are the most Americanized. I’ll buy ya a beer.

Reward: A beer

Status: Completed

Jay’s dare provided me with yet another experience I wouldn’t have sought out on my own, especially given a complete lack of martial arts experience in life and an aversion for fighting in general. I first heard about muay thai boxing in the context of The Travel Channel’s “5 Takes” show which sends 5 lucky travelers to a region of the world equipped with laptops and video cameras. The sporty guy on the show went through a 2-hour training, and now it was my turn.

A few blocks from Kent’s Guest House was one of Chiang Mai’s boxing stadiums (think boxing ring inside a large bar). Fresh from 6 hours of cooking and eating Thai food, I took on the dare knowing I’d have to work for that beer.

Mr. K, the 1987 muay thai champion of Thailand, was my trainer. A couple of other real Thai fighters were also hanging around, with one in particular helping me out. He went out to buy me some tape to wrap my wrists (an additional cost for any other novices out there) and took all of the photos while I punched and kicked with all my muay thai might. A young Texan guy also joined the training session, trying to work off the weight gained from being on the road for 6 months. I could relate all too well, having recently confirmed a weight gain of 20 pounds (9 kg) since leaving home 11 months ago.

Before Mr. K showed me a single move, he had me spend 10 minutes bouncing left and right around a tire. A few minutes later, my calves were burning and I lost any sense of shyness, removing my already sweat-soaked shirt. The boxing shorts were on loan, after a quick smell from Mr. K, deemed they were wearable by a customer.

Mr. K taught me the basic moves – right/left jab, kick, knee (to opponent’s face), and arm/leg blocks. We started without the gloves in the corner training area, then with gloves on the heavy bags, and finally Mr. K donned the training pads and we got into the ring. He gave commands, and I did my best to follow, forgetting to keep my arms up to protect my face after each move.  He was incessant about reminding me to keep my hands up.  If I were in a real fight, I’d have been KO’d within seconds of the opening bell. The thought scared me. The thought of the Thai fighters kicking and kneeing the hell out of each other on a regular basis also didn’t sit well with me.

The Texan and I swapped time with Mr. K, and then a fighter set to headline a 100,000 Baht ($2,900) fight in a few days did a demo. He even took a few minutes to help me with my technique. The personal attention made for a great experience.

The next day, I had a sore right shin from my more forceful right kicks, and a set of ridiculous photos. Hopefully I lost a pound in the process too.

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I purposefully skipped the numerous opportunities to take a Thai cooking class in the islands so I could take one in Chiang Mai, and there were no shortage to choose from. Some were located on organic farms a short drive outside the city, while others were easily within walking distance of the main tourist area in the old city. Prices were all the same, so the only other variables were slight differences in the dishes you could choose to cook and the image presented by the brochures.

I opted for an old city school housed in a 100-year old teak building. All of the classes convene at the same market for a brief introduction to the most common vegetables, curry pastes and tofu used in Thai cooking. Spotting the chef of another popular school, I noticed he had a bigger group than mine, a good indicator he’s listed in Lonely Planet!

After the market tour, we walked back to the cooking school with a few baskets of fresh ingredients, and hung out for a bit. I was happy to spend the day with a young American couple from Texas (currently living/studying in China), a very tall (and characteristically friendly) Canadian man, and a French couple.

We each prepared 6 dishes from a total of 18 options. The class had a slow and relaxed pace which marked a pleasant departure from the faster-paced classes I’d taken at home with Sur La Table. We would prep the ingredients (except the chicken), cook them, and then take the finished product to the dining room. All of the locations were open air so we had plenty of room to play the role of Swedish chef.

First up was the classic hot and sour prawn soup which I ate far too little of in my first two months in Thailand, followed by spring rolls.

Papaya salad is another classic dish from the region, and it’s the spiciest salad I’ve ever eaten (though the chili peppers are optional).

Panang curry with chicken was a dish I first tried at a Thai restaurant I’d frequent with a coworker on lunch breaks, however tasting it on Chaweng Beach in Koh Samui, I knew I had to learn to make a better version for myself.

It turned out delicious, though I’m not sure how easy it will be to find tamarind sauce and palm sugar back at home. I remember looking for tamarind paste for a Thai recipe one time and not having much luck. My attempt at making the paste from the whole pods was dreadful.

Pad thai with chicken is another dish I previously made at home, though I took a shortcut by using a Harris Teeter (grocery store) package of glass noodles and sauce. I may return to it someday, however not before ensuring I can make a mean sauce from scratch first.

And for those who saved room for dessert, sweet sticky rice and fresh mango finished us off for good!

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In the interest of time and energy, I decided to take the one hour flight from Luang Prabang to Chiang Mai via Lao Airlines. The popular alternative for crossing the western border is to take a slow boat (literally) for two days along the Mekong River. By taking to the air, I was also making the final decision to skip a unique experience I first heard about from an American couple back in Indonesia. The Gibbon Experience allows you to live in 100-foot treehouses for two days. They’re joined together by ziplines, and you spend your days looking for gibbons in the trees and/or trekking on the jungle floor. As it is not explicitly referenced in Lonely Planet (out of respect for the operator, it is written), I wanted to share it here since I know a few people will be heading to Laos in the near future. :)

The flight went like clockwork, and I was surprised they even had time to serve a decent lunch given the one hour duration. Jetstar’s Asian contingent could learn a thing or two. Yes, I’m still bitter about the lack of complimentary water on that four hour Singapore to Hong Kong flight!

As the plane ascended and headed west, there were beautiful views of Laos’ northern mountains. While you can’t see graphic indications of borders from the air as though you were flying over a Google satellite image, the distinction between development (or lack thereof) in Laos and Thailand was clearly visible.

Once we landed, I grabbed a taxi to the backpacker part of town which was chock full of inexpensive guest houses and travel shops. I took a basic room in Kent’s Guest House, the first one I stumbled across. As Kent showed me to the room, he talked with a bird on his shoulder (which talked back, of course). Once in the room, I told him I’d take it if everything worked (fan, toilet, etc.). Kent assured me everything in the room worked fine, it was just him that didn’t. Despite the flock of pigeons in the courtyard, I felt overdue for an eccentric experience and took the room.

It was great to be back in Thailand, where you can get so much done in such a small amount of time. After a quick rest, I tracked down a Lonely Planet South Africa, paid under $20 for a routine dental visit (using the recommendation of the book shop sales woman), and picked up a pile of brochures from which to choose my Chiang Mai activities. There were so many appealing activities, and so little time. I was forced to prioritize.

First up, the low impact, highly caloric, full day Thai cooking class.

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Thailand was to be a crown jewel in my round the world adventures.  Coming off three months in Nepal and India, and four months since leaving the beaches of Bali, I longed for a tropical paradise where the food was divine, the people friendly, the transportation easy, and the views perfect.  I experienced all I’d hoped for and more, as has often been the case in the past 10 months.

Highlights -

• Comfortable, cool deluxe airport bus
• Walking down Th Kho San Road for the first time, fresh off the plane
• The Royal Palace complex
• Completing the motorbike dare
• Eating amazing Thai food – wherever, whenever, and often!
• Stepping onto beautiful Chaweng Beach, Koh Samui for the first time (and my bungalow)

• Chilling on Chaweng Beach:  reading “Scar Tissue” and “Do Travel Writers Go To Hell,” listening to Ark Bar’s music at sunset, dining on the beach, lighting a traditional lantern, watching fireworks go off
• Sea kayaking Ang Thong National Marine Park (and jumping off the big boat)

• My bungalow’s porch view of the action on Koh Phangan’s full moon beach
• Partying every night on Haad Rin – fire dancers, watching fire jump rope
• Meeting new people including Warren from Cape Town, and an old friend (Steve -  our third time in three separate countries)
• Watching Family Guy at the restaurant that played it 24×7
• Dancing and staying up all night for July’s Full Moon Party
• Getting fluorescent flames painted on my head

• Escaping to the solitude of Thong Nai Pan Noi
• Thai massages
• Completing the unsettling ladyboy dare
• Watching a few hours of Muay Thai kickboxing

• Meeting Nienke and Elizabeth (Holland) and Christine and Diana (Germany)
• The boat ride to and from Burma to extend my Thai visa
• The boat ride to and from Koh Phayam, and being willing to follow a lead to an undeveloped island even if it was a ghost town upon arrival

• Staying at the On On Hotel in Phuket Town for a few nights
• Patong Beach at sunset
• Firing my first gun, a 9mm
• Speedboat ride to James Bond Island, and other spots of interest

• The rooftop ferry ride to Koh Phi Phi Don
• Getting to know Josi and Catharine (Canada) over dinner on Long Beach and a stunning sunset
• Taking an early morning longboat to the Koh Phi Phi Leh, landing on an empty Maya Bay (“the beach”), and swimming in the beautiful surroundings
• My air-conditioned, ultra-comfortable room in the village of Koh Phi Phi Don
• Hanging out with Josi and Catharine on the Phi Phi’s main beach
• Meeting laid back, uber-friendly, fellow travel blogger Nate
• Getting a bird’s eye view of the island from a scenic viewpoint at sunset
• Sleeping on the roof of the decrepit overnight ferry to Koh Tao
• Full day snorkel and island tour of Koh Tao
• A confident and comfortable return to Bangkok and Th Kho San Road
• Getting a new AC adapter from the ASUS service center
• Listening to music with Josi and Catharine on our last night together (it helped that it was all *awesome* music from my MP3 player of course)
• The fast connection speeds and big monitors at internet cafes
• And lastly…a few other experiences I’m not going to share!

Lowlights -

• Feeling lonely during my first week in the country (I know it comes with the territory, but it still doesn’t feel good at the time!)
• My laptop’s AC adapter breaking on Koh Phangan
• Accidentally breaking my second camera of the trip
• The late July Half Moon Party
• Getting sick on Phuket, not fully trusting the first doctor I saw, feeling fatigued and anxious

Eating -

Red/green/yellow/panang curry with chicken and steamed rice (medium spicy), chicken vindaloo, prawns, fresh whole snapper, pineapple, watermelon, mango, bananas, cheeseburgers, Hawaiian pizzas, fresh orange or coconut juice, coconut shakes (to die for), ice coffees (got hooked on them thanks to Steve), Cornetto’s chocolate and brownie ice cream cones, lots and lots of SINGHA beer.  :)

# of Days Couchsurfing - 

0

Average Cost Per Day -

$52

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I was glad to have my errands, grooming, and party night out of the way the day before taking the bus to Cambodia. Being free to do nothing is right up this backpacker’s alley.

In the evening, Josi, Catharine and I met up for dinner at the popular open-air restaurant next to our hotel on Soi Rambuttri. I needed to savor one last chicken curry. I think I went with yellow, after having red for lunch. Catharine retired early, while Josi and I hung out a little longer.

On our walk down Kho San Road, I noticed a Durian vendor. I enjoyed the fleshy fruit for the first time in Singapore, so I bought some to eat on our way back to the hotel. The street vendors in Bangkok are wonderfully clean and appealing, so it would’ve been a crime to not take advantage of the perfectly wrapped offerings.

Sticking my fingers into the mush that is the Durian fruit, savoring it along with two months of amazing memories, I surely had a big smile on my face.  Josi didn’t get away without trying some too. She likened it to the taste of pineapple with the texture of mango.

Before parting ways, Catharine got her second wind, and the three of us listened to music until two minutes to midnight.  The girls had an early flight home in a few hours while I’d be on the long bus to Siem Reap, Cambodia!

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I know it might sound like my time in Thailand has been one big party…or day at the beach…but really…the country can do that to a guy (or girl)!

Once the Germans returned to Bangkok, we had a night on the town, though technically  we didn’t go further than Kho San Road.

Josi and Catharine were a big influence on me during my second visit to Bangkok.  After watching them buy countless shirts, I gave in and bought a few too.  Specifically, I was excited to buy an old school Bones Brigade shirt I’d seen upon my first walk down the road.  We’re each sporting some of our new attire in the photo above.

After a few drinks and dancing in a bar filled with too many of Thailand’s working women, my night came to a close with a classic late night walk down Kho San stuffing chicken pad thai into my mouth.  Yummy.

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For better or worse (mostly worse), I drank my share of drinks our last night on Koh Tao, leaving me extremely tired the following morning.  The sunburn was sucking the life out of me too, and I was no closer to getting over the cold I’d picked up a few days earlier.

Burnt to a crisp, the fast ferry’s rooftop views were sacrificed for the lightly chilled air of the main deck.  The Ben Stiller movie about spending a night in a lively museum played on the plasma TV screen.  Upon arrival on the mainland, we geared up for the overnight bus ride back to Bangkok.  My bus buddy, as Josie called the people we sat next to, was a German stewardess from Frankfort with Lufthansa, which reminded me of Christina from Koh Phangan.  She said, and is it little wonder, that Bangkok is a very popular vacation spot for airline workers because of the super cheap rates they get to such a major airline hub.

Back in Bangkok, while Josie and Catharine pillaged the city’s shopping markets, I had extra pages added to my passport, a free service provided by American embassies, and finally bought a new AC adapter from the ASUS service center.

My endgame was playing out well.  After two months in Thailand, I was itching to feel the rush of entering a new country, and Cambodia was in my sights.

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We were picked up bright and early at 8am for a full day in the sun. The taxis on Koh Tao consisted of pick-up trucks with seats. No roof, no backing to the seats to prevent you from tumbling off on curves. As we neared the snorkel shop to collect our gear, more and more pick-ups joined the caravan.

Our plan worked, and while the masses headed to a large boat at the pier, Catharine, Josi, myself, a young British couple, and three other (non-talkative) European girls boarded a longboat and zipped off in a counterclockwise direction around the island.

We stopped at about five different snorkeling locations. The first one was the best in my opinion since it included the only sharks we’d see for the day. In fact, I saw six or seven black tip reef sharks of varying sizes scoot around the sea floor.

After the snorkeling stops, and a lunch of chicken fried rice aboard the boat, we motored to the north of the island and a secluded bay with a small sliver of a white sand beach set against large rocks. I got a bird’s eye view of the scene by climbing up some very hot wooden stairs in the direction of a restaurant perched above the rocks. A resort of bungalows also sat on the hill.

Our final stop for the day was a small sand bar connecting three islands off the northwest coast. It was the postcard-perfect scene which was part of the reason I’d wanted to see Koh Tao. It took about ten minutes in the searing heat to reach the boulder-strewn top.

By then, I was out of steam. The sun, I’d learn after returning to my bungalow, had burnt my back. It seems as though the suntan spray worked fine where I was able to rub it into my shoulders, while my mid-to-lower back looked like a boiled lobster (sorry mom).

But before the discovery of a searing sunburn, I managed to enjoy a beer at the end of the tour. It was actually my second choice. The beach bar had run out of coconuts by late afternoon, if you can believe it.

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By the time we arrived at Chalok Baan Kao Bay, the quiet southern beach on Koh Tao, the sun was peeking up over the island. Dead tired, we checked around the local dive shops for accommodation. The only available option was Tropicana, which was an original recommendation from Robin, one of the German guys we met en route. He had stayed there once before, and was returning with his friend to obtain open water certification.

After waiting for a few hours, we all got rooms at Tropicana which featured beautiful gardens, and a comfortable restaurant. I opted for the one available bungalow as my island life in Thailand was about to wind down.

It was a quiet day for everyone. Sleep, internet, trips to 7-11. Josi, Catharine and I all booked a full day snorkel/island tour for the next day. We opted for the longboat, not because it was cheaper, but because we expected it to be a better experience with fewer people than the big boats.

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The plan had always been to try my hand at rock climbing in Krabi before leaving the south of Thailand. Those plans changed when I wasn’t yet ready to say goodbye to Josi and Catharine. I knew Steve (from London…we last hung out on Koh Phangan) would understand. He’d become a rock-climbing fiend there, and was even on his way to Koh Phi Phi Don on a field trip the same day I was leaving.

Josi, Catharine and I sat on the ferry’s roof for the two hour ride to the mainland. It was reminiscent of the first time we met (all of 4 days ago, but it felt longer).

Once we arrived at the Krabi port, it was time for everyone to get their backpacks. Given we were some of the first people on the ferry, our packs were at the bottom, though somehow the girls managed to position theirs in such a way that they were able to get them out quickly. Mine, on the other hand, was as far lost as a backpack could be. A little patience was required, and it was eventually uncovered. We boarded the shuttle to the travel agency where we had a short wait for the minivan that was to drive us to the night ferry.

The drive was longer than I think we all expected. There were two Italians guys, two German guys (Robin and Martin), one unknown guy, and the three of us. The German contingent was picked up first, and they had laid claim to the front row of seats with the most legroom.

Four to six hours later, we arrived at our sad looking night ferry. It was probably a good thing we didn’t see it in daylight. I might not have had the confidence to board it. There were mattresses set up inside, and even fans to keep things cool, however I was drawn to the roof.

Ten years ago, on my travels through western Europe, I heard about the overnight ferries from Italy to Greece. I had chosen to visit Ireland instead, and while I had a nauseating experience on my giant car ferry from England to Ireland, it didn’t match the romantic image I had developed in my mind of the one to Greece.

We were delayed about an hour from embarking because the electronic lift to pull up the main door on the lower level of the ferry broke. A group of Thais began to analyze the mechanical dilemma before them. The door was too heavy to be pulled up by people alone, so it was determined that the giant yellow crane would be used.

Several of us watched the first attempt from the roof. As the tension built in the steel cable, I held my breath. Something broke, and a heavy metal piece of the rigging flew backwards past some scooters which had not been moved out of the way.

By the second attempt, I was ducking farther out of view so as not to be decapitated by steel. The bent and broken railing on the roof (shown in photo above) illustrates similar situations may have been more destructive to the ferry itself! Amazingly, the second attempt worked, and the gate was slowly cranked upwards to a near vertical position.

Catharine and I ended up sleeping on the roof, under the stars and moon, as we motored (verrrrry slowly) toward Koh Tao. I didn’t sleep at all, using only the provided pillow and blanket as my bedding. To sleep would’ve been to miss the passing squid boats along the horizon…the clouds floating eerily past the bright moon…and our approach to the small island of Koh Tao before sunrise.

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Before those drinks with Nathan my last night, I’d spent the day in the shade, though I did stop by a beach restaurant for lunch to take in the views. Between rooftop ferry rides and baking under an umbrella on the sand, I needed the break.

I spent a few hours on the internet doing the often mundane acts of uploading photos and creating DVD back-ups to send home.

In the late afternoon, I met up with Catharine and Josie, and along with another French Canadian, we ascended the steep stairs and path to a scenic viewpoint.

The photo opportunities were great, though the sunset itself did not beat the one we saw our first night from Long Beach.

After the sunset, we headed back to town for dinner and a delicious Cornetto ice cream cone from 7-11. I’d been eating them daily for weeks, and Josie and Catharine affinity for them lessened my guilt. :)

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Nathan, author of the Ubertramp travel blog, had suggested I stop by Viking Divers once I arrived on Koh Phi Phi Don so we could meet up. Given how much I’d enjoyed meeting other travel bloggers in New Zealand and Bali, I was excited to meet him.

I know being a dive instructor entails work, but it also seemed to entail a lot of hanging out in the dive shop, being available to answer questions from potential customers. And if you love to dive, and are working and living in one of the prettiest spots on Earth, then I’d imagine life is good.

After a few chats in the shop, I stopped by my last night on the island and we headed to the beach for a beer. Inevitably, we talked about our blogs and the ability to earn money through advertising. I also took the opportunity to confirm the family that controls much of the island (as referenced in The Lonely Planet) is basically the Thai mafia. They apparently have their hands in everything from resorts to the ferries. I also confirmed, as on Koh Phayam, that the Thai police are well aware of the drugs available/brought onto the islands, and as Nathan suggested, such information would allow them to know exactly what is going on and clamp down if deemed necessary. For some reason, I find these aspects of local life on the touristy islands fascinating.

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I splurged on a new pair of sunglasses and met up with the girls at the beach. We spent a few hours going for swims, reading, and just staring out into the sea. I went back to my room to get a cold shower, and fully enjoy the air-conditioning. I ended up napping for awhile. I was probably dehydrated because I was low on energy. In the back of my mind, I was hoping not to have a recurrence of the hotel-bound Phuket days.

While I was napping, the girls went off to explore the lookout point, though they arrived after the sun had gone down. Meanwhile, I roused myself out of bed to hit the beach for yet another amazing sunset. The sky was filled with pinks and blues, though I was a bit bummed to have no one to share it with.

After sunset, I went back to my room where I met up with the girls. We went to dinner at Ciao Bella, an Italian restaurant on the beach. Along the way, we met up with another French Canadian. I had no appetite for the pizza or beer I ordered due to anxiety around my lack of energy.  Lots of French was being spoken. My mind drifted around as I tried to involve myself in the conversation from time to time. The Canadian guy had been living in Hong Kong for four months, and was starved to speak some French with Josie and Catharine who were happy to oblige.

Later, I learned how little English Josie and Catharine would’ve been speaking if I weren’t around, and I decided a pinch of patience during such occasions was within myself.

We watched a bit of the fire dancing on the beach (it never gets old) and I saw women doing it for the first time. The music was a bit too loud at some of the bars though.

Before retiring for the night, we stopped in at the island’s reggae disco club which has a big Muay Thai ring where tourists can fight one another for a free drink. I found it rather obscene, and wondered why anyone would want to risk their health on vacation for such a stupid reason. We watched two tourist bouts – one was a draw after 3 rounds, and the other resulted in a win by an Israeli over an Italian.

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The longboat dropped us off along the more populated isthmus of Phi Phi and we headed into town, wet with sweat and saltwater. After receiving a tip from another traveler that most of the accommodation was of equal price and value, we went with air-conditioned rooms at his place. The tipping point was free internet, though we’d later find the catch was a sole computer with a 30 minute per day rule in a separate building adjacent to a construction site. The rooms were great though. My queen bed was wonderful, with big fluffy pillows and a soft comforter. A few cable TV channels and a fridge were included in the $24/night cost.

We settled in, got some brunch, and headed to the beach. To my surprise, the view was just as amazing as Maya Bay. Around sunset, I headed to the beach and found it to be low tide. Huge swaths of sand were uncovered while boats sat impotent, awaiting the water’s return.

Locals were playing a soccer game on the uncovered sand, while tourists like me enjoyed a Singha, trying to absorb the absolute beauty of what was before us.

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Arriving to the beach in Maya Bay early paid off with great opportunities for photos sans speedboats.

I love this photo looking back at “the beach” from the longboat.

Maya Bay.

This one is of us approaching a beachless bay surrounded by tall limestone walls. I thought it was prettier than Maya Bay to be honest. And a great place for a swim!

If only my landing was as perfect as the water!

Josie and I.

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After fueling up on Carnation Instant Breakfast with water (kindly provided by the Canadian contingent), we threw our packs into a longboat and motored toward Koh Phi Phi Leh at the early hour of 8am. The hope was to arrive at Maya Bay before an armada of tourist speedboats. The water was just rough enough to make the journey fun.

Our approach to the bay lead us along sheer vertical limestone walls. The anchor was thrown ashore, we hopped off, and had “the beach” to ourselves. It was smaller than I expected, and there didn’t seem to be any tall coconut palms curving out and over the sand. Despite my distorted expectations based on movie magic, Maya Bay was gorgeous. The sand was fine and white, the view out over the water amazing.

I walked off the beach on a little sandy path, and ran into a guy who had camped overnight. Apparently all the tour agencies offer it with drop off at 4pm and pick-up the next morning around 10am. I made a mental note to consider coming back in a few days to spend the night. The boatmen and girls wanted to head off again, so I took a quick swim, and we left as more boats started appearing.

The first snorkel stop was rough. I wasn’t paying attention to the current, and after a few minutes in the water, I was 10-20 meters from the longboat. There was only one pair of flippers available, and I didn’t have them, so my attempts to swim back were in vain. My preoccupation with not drowning meant I wasn’t having much fun snorkeling. It was a short stop though, so I waved to the boat to pick me up and we continued our island tour by visiting a secluded bay enclosed in limestone walls.

We took a few leaps from the boat and swam around the turquoise waters. The second and final snorkel stop featured calmer waters and lots of little fishies.

I was a lucky guy to be sharing paradise with Josie and Katharine.

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There were only two people on the ferry’s roof before me, and while I wouldn’t have guessed it at the time, they were to be the fun company I’d keep through the end of my second month in Thailand.

I sat down under one of only two spots of small shade, and was asked where I was from by one of them. The never-fail travel icebreaker set off a casual conversation that lasted much of the hour and a half ferry ride from Phuket to Koh Phi Phi Don. As we cruised along under the intense tropical sun, passing beautiful islands set in blue waters, I got to know Josiane and Katharine from Quebec, Canada. They were on a 6-week trip which began in Malaysia where they placed 6^th in their class at the world championships of dragon boat racing. Josie was a sport nutritionist who worked with athletes, including Olympians competing in Beijing as we spoke. Katharine was a social worker. As a reminder, I’m in my 9^th month of unemployment.

The girls were headed to Long Beach, a short longboat ride from main pier on Koh Phi Phi. Far less developed than the isthmus of the island, it offers perfect views of Koh Phi Phi Leh (the island featured in The Beach movie). I’d wanted to arrive on a beach by longboat since Koh Phangan, so I decided to join them. Besides, Long Beach looked like paradise from the ferry, whereas I could only see a congested bay from the main pier.

We set aground on the beach, booked rustic bamboo bungalows, and explored our surroundings. I went for a swim, only to find a lot of rocks. The view of Koh Phi Phi Leh was perfect though. This must have been the beach from which they shot movie scenes as the characters contemplated their swim to the secret island.

We enjoyed a great dinner on the beach at sunset.

I was blown away by the amazing sunset that first night. I was taken aback by the images I saw on my camera. I can guarantee the sky was not on fire as it appears in the photo above.

Meanwhile, the view of sunset over Phi Phi Leh was slightly less dramatic. The girls found the bungalows a little too basic, and given there was nothing to do at night, we decided to take a longboat to Koh Phi Phi Leh for an island tour in the morning, and get dropped off at the main pier to seek a more sociable scene.

The fact that a roach crawled up my stomach in the middle of the night only served to reinforce my worst nightmares, and the need for some concrete walls.

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I was nodding off at the bar of Banana’s Tacos while waiting for my transport to the Phuket pier from which my boat tour departed. I started to wonder whether I’d have the physical energy to enjoy the tour. Finally, with some phone support from the hotel staff, a taxi arrived an hour late to pick me up. I was the last to arrive on the boat, and we zoomed off in beautiful waters.

The speed boat could hold 50 people, however we lucked out with about half that many. There were young guys from Dubai and India, an older Indian couple, some Polish and Australians, and a Saudia Arabian couple on honeymoon. The woman was dressed from head to ankle in a black burka, while her husband looked like a typical westerner in shorts and a t-shirt.

The efficiency of the tour amazed me. The Thai tourism industry seems to operate with military precision (save forgetting to pick me up earlier in the morning). The highlight of the tour through Phag-Nga bay is a visit to Khao Tapoo, aka James Bond Island, which received its nickname after being featured in The Man With The Golden Gun.

After our photo session of Bond Island, we headed to lunch at Panyee Island, with it’s restaurants built over the water. To save time, lunch was already laid out for us upon arrival. Eat, eat, talk, talk, and we’re speeding off to Tham Lod for sea kayaking. Unlike my tour of Ang Thong Marine Park, we didn’t paddle our own kayaks. I paired up with an Australian and we were guided around some islands and mangroves for an hour. It was a different experience to have my feet up, and hands free to take photos and accept the beer bought for me by the Australian. As they say in Thailand – same same but different.

By the time we got to Naka Island for a swim on a beautiful, undeveloped beach, it was pouring rain. Getting in the water was still a nicer way to spend the time than standing around on the wet boat, but it was a little less than idyllic. There were a few minutes when I put my eyes at water level and watched the raindrops pelt the rather flat surface. It created a cool effect similar to the computer animations you can run with music.

Arriving back at Banana’s Tacos, I felt good about the day’s tour and my health. After spending two weeks on Patong, when my intention had been two days, I knew I had to take a leap of faith and leave at some point. Time was running out on my second month.

It was time to see the much lauded Koh Phi Phi Don.

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Eleven days after first getting sick, and four days after my second visit to the doctor, my gut told me it was time for a second opinion. The antibiotics should’ve cleared up my illness within the first few days, and I’d never in my life felt such a lack of energy before. It worried me. For the first time in my trip, I checked the cost of flights home.

I got the name for the second medical clinic off of a tourist map. It was even closer to my hotel than the first one. When I stopped by, I was told the doctor was at the gym, and to come back in an hour. Later, I walked up and was greeted by a shirtless Thai doctor in his bathing suit. I believe it was his child and wife who sat with him on the patio table. He shook my hand, welcomed me by name, and ushered me inside.

I was shown to a room, and the doctor joined me after putting on a 20^th anniversary Reggae Pub t-shirt. I knew the place as it was across from Chaweng Beach on Koh Samui. The doctor leaned back in his chair, exuding confidence I desperately needed to feel by that point. His English was far better than the first doctor, and as I described my experience over the past two weeks, I began to feel better.

The second opinion was the infection was viral versus bacterial, which explains why the antibiotics weren’t helping me. He said my throat looked fine (though in retrospect, perhaps it is possible that the medicine had already cleared up the problem by then if it really had been bacterial). He noted my blood pressure was abnormally low – not a problem I’ve had before. His suggested treatment was a shot of Cortisone (an anti-inflammatory) in the butt, along with a few days of anti-inflammatory pills and electrolyte powders for use with water.

I was not keen to accept an injection, but I was so tired of being tired, I yielded. To my surprise, a few hours later, I felt more energetic as he advised I would. The next day, I continued to feel the same way, so I booked a half-day speed boat trip to some nearby islands. If it went well, the plan was to head straight for the much smaller, idyllic Koh Phi Phi Don.

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After taking the antibiotics given to me by the pharmacist for a few days, my fever had dissipated, and my headache improved, however I still felt tired and unwell. I decided to kick up my care a notch by visiting a local medical clinic. I got a referral from the reception at a big hotel, The Holiday Inn.

The doctor didn’t speak much English, but we seemed to manage an exchange of the essential information. He, like me, figured the antibiotics from the pharmacy weren’t working, so he gave me a 5-day course of Amoxicillin. The diagnosis was a throat infection after a quick peer down my gullet with a big, yellow plastic flashlight and metal tongue depressor. The visit ran me about $18, with the drugs another $30 or so.

I began taking the new antibiotics, and my headache cleared up completely, though I was still left with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. Aside from meals, water/snack runs to 7-11, and a check of the internet, I spent my days in bed watching TV, reading or sleeping.

Five days passed, and I still felt stuck in a vicious cycle of sleep and exhaustion. I returned to the same doctor complaining of my lack of energy. He said my throat looked better, but had not completely improved yet. He gave me five more days of Amoxicillin, along with some vitamins and pills the pharmacy marked as “energy.”

By now, I was too tired to even wait around in a restaurant for food. I’d begun to get sandwiches from a local deli and Starbucks and bring them back to my room for consumption. One day I fell asleep at 3pm and didn’t wake up until 8am the next morning. I’m no doctor, but 17 hours of sleep, and still waking up tired isn’t normal.

I watched a nauseating amount of Fox News, developing a crush on spunky anchor Megyn Kelly. The movie channel offered needed respites with Failure to Launch, The Beach, Gladiator, and The Road to Guantanamo.

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I decided to go out for a beer or two on my second night in Patong. Banana’s Tacos was situated on a street right across from Bangla Road, giving me instant access to the epicenter of nightlife on the island.

I walked up the road and along the strip across from the beach, eventually returning to an Irish pub on Bangla Road for a proper pint of Guinness on tap. I was enticed by the live band playing an Irish tune, but after I got my drink, they went straight to cover songs like “Hotel California” and sadly, I felt the need to finish my precious draft beer quickly and get out of there.

I bought a Singha at a bar across the street from one of the many sections of go-go bars which were starting to attract crowds as midnight approached. It was a great spot from which to people watch.

Bangla Road is closed to traffic after 6pm, and like everywhere else in Thailand, you can walk around with a beer in public (a nice freedom that is fun to appreciate from time to time). After taking in the scene for a few songs on the bar stereo, I ordered another beer and started to walk again. I felt unwell all of a sudden, so I chucked the half-empty beer at a 7-11, bought some water, and went back to my room.

I managed to develop a mild fever and a moderate headache that night. Knowing a fever is a potential indicator of Malaria, I sought some help the next morning by talking to the hotel staff. One woman in particular, suggested I start with a specific pharmacy. I went there and was given antibiotics for a suspected infection.

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After two nights in Phuket Town, I relocated to Patong Beach. I picked a Mexican run guest house, Banana’s Tacos, for my base camp. The plan was to spend a few nights in the thick of the Phuket tourist scene before heading to quieter Kata (surf) beach, and then Koh Phi Phi Don.

I wasn’t interested in hanging out at the beach, or going crazy in the discos at night. Instead, I focused my energy on eating great food at the many restaurants. I had a great sushi lunch at a Japanese restaurant in the Jungceylon mall.

The mall also contained a small gun range. I’d first seen a gun range in a mall at Surfer’s Paradise in Australia, however the costs were too high (starting at around $100).

Thailand, of course, is far cheaper. I really do not like guns, however my trip is all about new experiences so I paid about $30 to fire ten 9mm rounds from a Beretta. I was extremely nervous and tried to be overcautious handling the weapon. The instructor was quite good, showing me how to hold the gun. I thought the recoil would knock me backwards but it wasn’t so strong.

The little shells popped out of the chamber after each shot. I wondered if I should have been wearing close-toed shoes. After a few pulls of the trigger, my hands began to sweat. I almost didn’t want to continue…but being the trooper that I am, finished off the clip and scored a 68% on the target.

The photo of the shotgun was just the instructor’s idea of fun.

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Phuket, Thailand’s biggest island, was my best hope for finding a deal on a new digital camera and acquiring an AC adapter for my laptop. I scoured Phuket Town’s main road and found one Canon 860 IXUS for sale in a Kodak shop. The price was ridiculous – about $60 more than what I saw it for in little Rangon. I brought this to the manager’s attention and he immediately agreed to the lower price (about $390). I had a hard time with this figure as it was $90 higher than what I paid just 3 months earlier in Kathmandu, Nepal (and $140 more than I could get it for via the internet). I decided to see if Patong, Phuket’s most touristy beach, could help save me a few bucks.

I took the public bus to Patong some time before 10am. I got off at the big, modern mall Jungceylon, adjacent to infamous Bangla Road. I found my camera model in several stores for the Rangon price, however none of the salespeople had the power to negotiate so I decided to try my luck with the independent Kodak shop back in the capital.

I walked down Bangla Road toward the beach. Bars and discos lined the way. Hundreds of stools stood empty, waiting for the sun to go down, the neon to light up, and the throngs of package tourists, couples, old white men, go-go dancers, ladyboys, and prostitutes to arrive.

For some reason, I started to take photos of the bars. It was a painful scene. Bangla Road is not pretty in the least by day. I felt hungover just looking around.

It was high tide so there was little of the beach to walk along. Surfers were out, but the current was too strong for swimming.

I caught the bus back to Phuket Town, and after following a series of leads regarding the best place to find a laptop adapter, finally came across an ASUS service center.  They could order the adapter but it’d take 5 days to reach me and cost $10-20 more than I might be able to get it for in Bangkok.  I didn’t want to be constricted to Phuket for 5 days, so I decided to go another month without the use of my little eeePC.

I did suck it up and buy my third digital camera by day’s end though.  I only got a few dollars knocked off the going rate by just taking the camera and CDROM (not the battery, charger, etc.), but the saleswoman threw in a 1gb memory card.

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The On On Hotel is Phuket Town’s oldest.  Staying there, I felt like I could’ve been Richard.  It was uncanny, and silly to be making such comparisons with a work of fiction.

My room had a broken window, and you could see the light of the lobby through the floorboards which creaked noisily.  I thought it added character.

The hallways without windows looked dark, though there were no women washing the floors while sparks flew from a light outlet.

I’m glad I stayed at the hotel for a few nights.  It was a nice change from bungalows, however no one named after a cartoon character left me a map to a secret island before slitting his wrists.  Luckily, it’s no mystery how to find the beach (Maya Bay) these days.

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Awoke at 7:30am, got on the back of a scooter at 8am, in the pouring rain, and sped off toward the pier. The ride was even scarier than the day before – wet concrete, sand, mud, leaves. I tipped the guy $1 on top of the $2 charge for an even $3. Happy to be alive.

I hopped right on the ferry and we took off. The rain let up after awhile and the side tarps were rolled up. The 360 degree views were beautiful, with clouds rolling off the jungle-covered hills and islands. The water looked green and wasn’t too rough given the weather.

I spoke to a Canadian girl – she’d come to Thailand at 15 with her family on vacation, met a local guy in the north, got pregnant, and has been here the past 3 years. I couldn’t imagine the reaction of the parents. The girl just moved to Koh Phayam where they’re living with her sister in a bungalow for $120 per month. She’s planning to marry the father.

I was able to get a nice bus to Phuket within 30 minutes of being dropped off at the bus terminal. The ride was longer than I expected – about 5 hours. We got into Phuket Town (capital of the island/province) with some daylight left though. I was beat. I decided to stay in the On On Hotel which was where the Bangkok hotel scenes were shot from “The Beach.” I figured why not!?

My mission the following day was to see if I could buy a new camera and AC adapter for my laptop.

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The ferry ride from Rangon to Koh Phayam was very scenic. Clouds hung so low it felt like you could reach up and grab them. There were two European couples on the boat, and me. Everyone else was Thai, including the guy next to me who worked on the island helping sea gypsies.

The Lonely Planet dedicates about two pages to Koh Phayam (not much), but it does mention there are no cars – only motorbike taxis and a little “highway” that runs across the island. I was hoping the taxis would have a little side cart for me to sit in but no such luck.

Thankfully, Dan’s dare had given me some experience on the back of a motorbike, however riding around on the smooth asphalt of Bangkok felt far safer than holding on to a petite Thai girl who doesn’t speak English as she drives over crumbling concrete, sand, and puddles. It reminded me why it’s not a good idea to take up scooter-riding on the islands. Before I left Koh Phangan, I saw an older woman with road rash from her right shoulder to her right ankle. It looked horrifically painful.

The scooter ride through the quiet, undeveloped interior of Koh Phayam had me feeling a little bit of adrenaline, and a lot of anticipation about the beach I was about to arrive at. Bamboo Bungalows had a great write-up in the guidebook, so given it was the low season, if backpackers were to be found, it’d be there.

I arrived to find the place almost empty. Most of the restaurant’s tables and chairs were piled up in a corner, reflecting little business this time of year. I had my pick of bungalows, so I took the one with the best beach view. Unfortunately, due to higher winds, they put up a fabric fence to block blowing sand from the beach. Still, I could hear the thundering waves just perfectly. They were LOUD.

My bungalow was as rustic as they come. The spaces between the floorboards were clearly big enough for large cockroaches to invade the room, yet the reality of such an experience didn’t occur to me. I was too excited. I enjoyed a post-arrival Singha with my feet up.

And then it sunk in that I was alone. Too alone. There was an older Aussie expat staying next to me. He was helping two Thai sisters who were friends of his (Thai) wife to find bungalows to rent out on the island.

I arrived at low tide so I explored the 3 kilometer beach in both directions. There wasn’t much. Most of the bungalow operations were closed for the low season. No 7-11’s. No boardwalks. No go-go bars. In fact, there was only 4 hours of power at my bungalow per day (6:30pm-10:30pm).

After my walk on the beach, I got some dinner with the Aussie guy and Thai sisters. The guy had been living in Thailand the past 20+ years or so, and would take breaks from talking Thai to keep me somewhat entertained with his perspectives on the development of Thailand over the last 30 years. He also clued me into the fact that the business owners on Koh Phayam were cutthroat, and apparently the undercurrents of life on the island were akin to a soap opera, complete with violence, drugs, intimidation, gossip, etc. Funny how ignorant tourists can be to such things. There was even a yellow drug boat that encircled the island, from which you could buy anything you wanted. There were police, but they were being paid off so the tourists that wanted to get high in paradise were free to do so.

Inebriated tourists on scooters and large snakes were reason enough to stay at one’s bungalow once the sun went down. Not that there was anywhere else to go!

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My taxi driver picked me up in the morning and took me to the pier from which I’d take a longboat to Burma (aka Myanmar).  When we stepped out on the pier around 8am, I got my exit stamp at the Thai immigration window, and then negotiated the cost of a longboat to Burma and back.  The more the driver and boatman tried to rush me, the more power I realized I had to negotiate.  I’d seen a couple of white girls on the way over, complete with color-coded stickers on their shirts (from the travel agent that arranged their Visa runs), so I knew there had to be a cheaper way to cross the border than chartering my own boat.

After cutting the price down by 30% (or $5), I boarded my first traditional longboat for the 30-minute ride to Burma.  The views were beautiful.  As we approached the Burmese side, golden pagoda’s came in to view along various hilltops.  I suddenly found myself wanting to explore the country, despite having previously written it off due to the recent cyclone catastrophe.  I then realized my plan to spend 2-3 months in Thailand meant I’d already accounted for my two exit/re-entries within a 6-month period.  I could go to Burma, but it would mean I couldn’t leave Asia via Bangkok (which I hope will bring me the cheapest airfare possible).

I was in Burma for just a few minutes, and it was back on the boat to Rangon.  Thai immigration updated my passport, allowing me free reign in the country for another 30 days.  My driver brought me back to my hotel where I picked up my backpack and went to the nearby pier for the ferry to Koh Phayam.  Murphy’s Law struck in the form of low tide.  Of course there was a motorbike taxi cruising around picking up people like me who were at the wrong pier.  I tried to negotiate the rate but failed.  Several Thais also joined me in the little side carriage, and after we were delivered to the right place, I was happy to see we all paid the same price (not what you’d see in India).

The time had come to see if Koh Phayam was really just “a bunch of bamboo bungalows on the beach” like the expat on Koh Phangan told me.

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PS – Should I claim credit on travel maps for having visited Burma simply for the purpose of renewing my Thai Visa?  And for that matter, Malaysia which I only visited for a few hours while staying in Singapore?  Leave a comment and let me know!

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I was the last of our Dutch/German/American/English posse to leave Thong Nai Pan Noi. My first month in Thailand was running out and it was time to launch a Visa run via the Burmese border. The adventure began with a nearly missed boat ride from Koh Phangan to Surat Thani on the mainland. I had to wake up my taxi driver at sunrise. Thankfully she sleeps right in the back of the her restaurant. The boat ride was bittersweet, though I was excited to be heading toward the islands of The Andaman Sea.

Once off the boat, we were all shuffled onto a big bus for the hour’s ride to Surat Thani. Everyone was then placed in the back of a pick-up and brought to their respective tour operator. If I haven’t mentioned it before, this whole process is made easy by color-coded stickers all the tourists are given before departure on the ferries.

Once at the travel office, a staging ground/restaurant with a Samsung LCD screening a Brangelina movie, it was a matter of waiting my turn. Half the crowd left for Phuket, and the other half left for Koh Phi Phi Don. Apparently I was the only one headed to the wonderful border town of Ranong.

The bus dropped me off and I took off with a local “taxi” driver. I went with the flow, taking a room at a resort he recommended, which was geared completely around people spending one night in Rangon to arrange for a new Visa. After settling into my room, I walked through a local market, got a bite to eat, a quick haircut while a Burmese guy flirted with me incessantly, my first taste of Thai whiskey mixed with pink Tang from some friendly locals who offered to take me out on the town for a few hours (they were drunk, I declined), and a few solid hours of cheap internet time before crashing.

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The day after the bar crawl, it was Elizabeth’s turn to feel unwell. Aside from a few hours of dice with Nienke, it was a low key day and night. In the morning, I joined them both for breakfast on the beach and we said goodbye.

I decided to walk along a rickety old boardwalk that leads to a fancy resort between the north and south beaches. The hotel grounds were stunning. It was clearly the type of place that attracts couples and families instead of us cheapskate backpackers. The pool was gorgeous, as were the views from the restaurant’s patio, so I decided to indulge in a tasty lunch of yellow curry with chicken. The splurge came when I decided to order the coconut dessert. Soooo creamy and delicious. Desserts have been real hit or miss affairs in Thailand and this petite one really hit the spot.

After lunch, I walked back along the boardwalk and decided to take some photos from one of the adjacent boulders. As I lept off the wooden walkway, I heard the board under my foot bend. I could tell it was literally pulling the old nail up from the vertical support beam. Thankfully, momentum was on my side and I landed safely on the rock.

I took a bunch of pictures, and as I was putting my camera back in the case, I heard a crunch. If you’ve ever heard the sound of your own bones cracking, the sound which instantly sets off pulses of adrenaline, then you know what it sounded like when those little camera gears which control the zoom lens snapped and popped.

I immediately assessed the damage. I could manually zoom out slightly to get a clear shot, however going any further, it was all out of focus and if I went all the way, then I was forced to restart the camera. The lens was no longer able to fully retract either. I knew it was a total loss. I would need to buy a new camera just 3 months after coughing up $300 in Kathmandu.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t too pissed off about the situation. I knew I could and would get a new one once I arrived on Phuket, it was just going to be a matter of how much I’d have to shell out. My mind was already piecing together how I would be able to cover some of the cost with the month’s advertising revenue and money earned from completed dares.

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I spent the afternoon after the Half Moon Party playing card and dice games with Elizabeth and Nienke (who was feeling better) at the Beach Club restaurant. Steve and the American girl eventually joined us, and happy hour drinks turned into a beach bar crawl for the evening’s entertainment.

Our second destination was the Flip Flop Pharmacy which was situated in the middle of the beach. The music there was a noticeable improvement.

Our third and final destination was the bar and restaurant at the opposite end of the beach. There, we ordered a little bit of food. I tried the calamari which tasted far fresher than any I’d had back in Virginia.

We finished off the evening with a night swim before retiring. I once again had to say goodbye to Steve who was leaving in the morning for an island in the Andaman Sea.

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I had great expectations for the Half Moon party, however it turned out to be a let down. I know some people enjoyed it more than the Full Moon party, because they told me as much, but I couldn’t see the appeal.

Chrissy, Diana, Steve, myself, and an American girl arrived early via taxi. Images of a rustic setup in the jungle were quickly dispelled when we walked up the access road to see a ticket booth. We all seemed to have missed the detail of a cover charge, perhaps because it wasn’t mentioned on the flyers. It was about $9, which included one drink. On top of the return taxi fare, the night was already shaping up to be more costly than the Full Moon Party. And then I saw the drink prices, which were about 30% higher than what you could get on Haad Rin.

The venue was not jungle-like at all. There were buildings, concrete, infrastructure! After a loop around the premises, it was clear there was little escape from the music if psy-trance wasn’t your thing. I often enjoyed it at the beach, but I wasn’t digging it at the Half Moon party.

Thankfully, they had a few fire dancers who provided much needed entertainment. It was probably the highlight of the night for me. Steve and the American girl left at 1am, and I knew I had to decide whether to leave with them or at 4am with Chrissy and Diana (who were trying to stay up all night as they had to leave Koh Phangan early that morning). I decided to stay longer, and almost immediately regretted it.

During those painful 3 hours, I saw the bloody results of a guy who got hit in the head with a bottle. I saw Chrissy needing to take care of Diana who accidentally had too much to drink. I had to stay under the roof of a bar due to pouring rain. I witnessed some girl seemingly start to bleed spontaneously (after a few minutes, a guy carried her down the access road as blood and tears ran down her face).

And on top of it all, when 4am rolled around, we didn’t immediately connect with our taxi. Apparently she was waiting for us at the gate but didn’t see us leave, so we waited around for 30 minutes thinking we’d have to pay for a new taxi to get back (which would’ve been VERY expensive given we were on a remote beach). While we were cursing taxis, I spotted the cool fire dancer and had my photo taken with him. I asked him how long he’d been twirling fire, and he responded a year and a half. He practices about 3 hours a day, every day.

My advice:  Do not go out of your way to attend the Half Moon Party.

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Steve had trained in Thailand’s national sport, Muay Thai, for three years back in England so he was excited to see his first match, and myself, Chrissy, and Diana joined him for a night out on Koh Phangan. The ride there was about 30 minutes, with the first half spent twisting, turning, and bumping around on the dirt roads in the back of the modified pick-up.

The “stadium” felt more like someone’s backyard. There was a small bar, a few bleachers, and tables/chairs around the ring for those who payed extra. I was glad to attend the fights with Steve because he was able to appreciate some of the technique, and answer questions. The format was similar to what we’d have seen anywhere else.

The whole event lasted about 3 hours, and started out with tiny little kids fighting. We’d heard about this so it wasn’t a surprise, yet it was mildly disturbing. In this case, the tots were girls. At first it was novel to have the small kids fighting intermittently as the night progressed, however it then seemed to become more of a filler between bouts with increasingly older guys.

In fact, the two best fights of the night, which came at the end (of course), resulted in KO’s within the first round. Before one of the fights started, I picked a guy in red trunks to win. He was short, tan, with well-defined muscles, and a good game face. His opponent was a beanpole by comparison, and while taller, seemed to lack muscle mass and any sense that he was going to come out of it a winner.

Earlier in the evening, the audience was almost all tourists, however as the fighters got older, more Thais filtered in to give the experience a better sense of authenticity. Steve was disappointed that his first fights in Thailand were not so fantastic, and resolved to watch some matches at Lumbini, the big stadium in Bangkok. When it was all over, we rumbled our way back to Thong Nai Pan Noi for late-night cheeseburgers.

I was looking forward to the next night’s entertainment, the biweekly Half Moon Party.

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Paradise does have it’s challenges, such as finding/keeping a bungalow you’re satisfied with for more than 2 nights.

Night 1 – Shared bungalow with Steve in middle of beach

Night 2 – We got our own bungalows at the resort with The Beach Club restaurant where we first had dinner. I was in #5, though I had been told I’d have to move the next day due to a previous reservation for that one (from which you could see the water from the porch’s hemp hammock).

Night 3 – #35, though electricity failed (spent the night with no fan because I couldn’t be bothered to move so late)

Night 4- #34, the bungalow next door which I used after the previous one’s power failure

Nights 5/6 – #27, a bungalow a little farther away from the stereo alarm in the form of radial saws (working on a yet-to-be opened resort of luxury villas…literally a few feet away)

Nights 7/8 – #5, persistence paid off and when this baby opened up again, after initially declining, I moved one last time to get get that swinging on a porch’s hemp hammock views of the water

Meanwhile, Nienke (Holland) had become ill just the day after we met her. I let them my digital thermometer which confirmed a fever. She’d be in bed for the next few days. Later in the week, her friend Elizabeth seemed to come down with a similar illness. And as I write, I’m convinced I’m suffering the consequences of it too.

Steve kept vacillating on what he wanted to do…where he wanted to go…how long he could handle power saws waking him in the mornings. I didn’t mind them too much. I considered it a small price to pay for such a beautiful, secluded beach. With the 44 luxury villas set to come on line by year’s end, the beach accommodations were clearly heading upscale. Hopefully I’d be able to return there someday without breaking the bank.

After a nice 30-minute massage at a local place, I struck up a conversation with an expat who just happened to be the co-owner, along with his Thai wife.  In hopes of getting off the tourist trail, and seeking a bit of adventure, I took the opportunity to ask him for an island recommendation. They had recently vacationed on an island called Koh Phayam near the Thai-Burmese border. I filed this information away, already sure I’d be making the effort to visit when the time came to go on a visa run (a quick exit from Thailand to gain another 30 days in the country).

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It was on Thong Nai Pan Noi that I concluded my personal paradises are qualified by one shared characteristic: they are island beaches, specifically tropical islands (sorry Ireland).  There must be time spent amidst a blue sky with wispy (or puffy) white clouds, varying shades of turquoise water, fine white sand, and a background of green palm trees and jungle.

I’ve come to this conclusion after extensive research – Hawaii, Belize, French Polynesia, Indonesia, and now Thailand.

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#7 – Overland Travel

OK Dave, I think I have a particularly unoriginal dare that will nonetheless get you out of your comfort zone! When you get there, I dare you to get your picture taken with one of Thailand’s finest ladyboys… And no cheating – we need evidence of a prominent Adam’s apple and manly hands! (As you know, get someone reliable to take it for you… don’t want anyone running off with your camera!)

Since you will need to get your running shoes on shortly after the pic has been taken – straight to a chemical shower no doubt – I will stick the amount at $50 which should get you a reasonably decent hotel in Thailand for a night.

Enjoy!

Reward: $50 (to go toward a nice night in a Thai hotel)

Status: Completed

___________________________________

I’d been seeing ladyboys everywhere I went since arriving in Thailand – Th Khao San road in Bangkok, Koh Samui, the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan.

In the throes of an unexpectedly fun first night on Thong Nai Pan Noi, I took a few minutes to have this photo snapped with what in my best judgment (at the time) were 3 ladyboys.  Note the light handhold to try and show off “manly” hands.

This photo still makes me shudder.

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An Australian couple, Steve, and I shared a pick-up ride to Thong Nai Pan Noi, a quieter beach on Kho Phangan’s northeast coast. The concrete road gave way to rutted dirt half way there.  The interior of the island was thick with jungle cover.  As we approached our destination, I was surprised and excited by just low little development was present for a beach long known to be one of the most beautiful on the island.

Steve and I trudged across the sand under the intense mid-afternoon sun in search of affordable bungalows. For those few minutes, sweat pouring off of us, it felt like we were walking across a desert. It was too early to comprehend and appreciate the beauty of our new environment. We ended up sharing a room for the first night. It was nice to have a roommate again, even for just one night.

Once settled, I bought a sarong for hanging out on the beach, started reading Nasty Bits, and naming the friendly beach dogs.

The atmosphere of the small beach reminded me of the vibe on Gili Trawangan. Excited by the opportunities a new place always presents, I took the lead on our walk down the beach in search of dinner companions. The Beach Club looked like the most popular place, and I didn’t hesitate to find out if Steve and I could join two girls sitting at a table on the sand. Initially, they indicated we could have their table as they were about to leave, however we were then invited to sit with them.

Nienke and Elizabeth were from Holland, and Steve and I got to know them as we dined on delicious whole white snappers. A large group lit lanterns all at once on the beach, and I finally had my camera with me to get some shots. These were the first I’d seen with fireworks attached to the bottom. They looked like little rockets as they shot up faster than normal.

Around 10:30pm, the girls departed, and Steve indicated he was ready for bed. I, on the other hand, was happy to be sipping a second screwdriver after a few earlier Singhas. Once Steve left, I sat for a moment, and then introduced myself to two German girls who were laying on the restaurant’s beach mats a little closer to the water.

Chrissy and Diana were from Frankfurt. I spoke with Chrissy for the most part (it took me far too many days to realize that it was only because Diana didn’t speak much English). As we chatted, a group of guys dropped their shorts and went skinny dipping nearby. Thankfully, I could only see a bunch of white asses running into the water. The girls were going to stop by the Jungle Bar in “town” for the weekly sunrise party. When they left to freshen up at their bungalow, I lay back on the mat, eyes peering into the black sky above, for a few minutes to reflect on the present moment.

As I headed to the Jungle Bar, I passed the girls’ bungalow and we walked over together (it was all of a 2-minute walk). Chrissy found a 500 Baht ($15) note at the door, and offered to buy the first round. The bar was full with people talking, drinking, and dancing under the black lights. The music was decidedly pop and rock, but I went with the flow. I even spotted a few ladyboys who I thought could help me win an outstanding $50 dare.

I bought a round as well, and we retired around 2am. During my walk back along the dark, desolate beach, I thought if there was ever a beach that called out for skinny dipping, this was the one.

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Needless to say, Steve and I took it easy following the Full Moon Party.  I shared my intention to visit a quieter beach on the northeast coast of Kho Phangan called Thang Nai Pan Noi.  I’d been unsure of whether he’d want to join me, but to my surprise, he was already up for escaping the party scene.

The beach was littered with beer bottles and trash, yet a small contingent of dedicated sunbathers lay out amongst it all in the afternoon.  I knew the community would ensure the beach would be cleaned up in due time, however there was clearly no rush (unlike Time Square after New Year’s Eve).

I exchanged Anthony Kiedis’ autobiography, Scar Tissue, for Anthony Bourdain’s Nasty Bits, a collection of previously published material about food and travel.

We watched more of The Family Guy, dined on giant butterflied and barbecued Tiger prawns, and called it an early night.

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Steve arrived just in time to join me for the July 2008 Full Moon Party on Kho Phagnan’s Haad Rin Beach. I was beyond happy to spot him slugging his way through the sand at 5pm after an overnight bus ride from Bangkok. I greeted him with good news too. I had paid for a bungalow that had opened up that morning so he’d have his own place.

As he settled into his new pad, I used the time to try and freshen up. Having awoken at noon, I was still trying to shake off my hangover from the prior night, concerned I had peaked too soon with the partying. No one told me every night is party night on Haad Rin, and it’s a hard place to exercise restraint.

We met at the Mountain Bar for a beer. I was humored by the culture shock Steve was in the midst of experiencing. Unlike me, he barely spent a day in Bangkok before heading straight to party island Kho Phangan. Where were the cows? It’s so clean! Why are the women all barely dressed!? I could relate to it all.

Food vendors set up stalls along the beach’s perimeter in anticipation of the hungry, drunken hordes. The bucket (liquor) vendors lit up and music began to boom from a few of the clubs. Workers were still erecting the dance platform in front of Tommy Resort. Following our stomachs, we went down to the beach and found ourselves ducking into The Cactus Bar when it started to rain. Beneath the black lights, people were applying fluorescent paints on one and other. Steve found it hilarious that a guy was painting abs on another guy. He couldn’t get over the vanity involved in such an act! I, on the other hand, was contemplating flames on my freshly shaven head.

Once the rain let up, we headed up the street in search of dinner. I had written off The Family Guy years ago after it first came out, however Steve was a fan so we ate in that restaurant. After less than an episode, I was a convert. I vastly underestimated the mature (in a sophomoric kind of way) humor of the show. We drank delicious coconut shakes, entranced by the cartoon, as party people continued to stream toward the beach on the street behind us. Despite the continued rain, we left the shelter of the restaurant behind and braved the beach.

It was crowded…much more crowded than the prior night. Ferries were adrift offshore while people were being dropped off by the speedboat load. The serene beach I arrived at by day had become the epicenter of Thailand’s biggest party of the month.

Large lightning bolts flashed across the sky over the water, and judging by the masses, most people were unaffected by the rain. It was a bit chilly, however Steve and I were all too happy to take in the sights of a platform filled with dancing girls. One in particular, clearly in search of attention (she was wearing quite a bathing suit), climbed to a very small, higher (say 15-foot) section. There was just enough room for her, and she didn’t last long before losing her balance and toppling over. We stood there in the rain, aghast at this woman’s violent fall from grace. Images of compound fractures filled my mind, while Steve figured someone should be told. We turned around after a minute or two to see the girl (seemingly OK) by the road.

We moved on…somewhere. At this point, it may have been a pit stop back at the bungalows followed by another drink at The Mountain Bar. Back on the beach, we ran into a couple Steve met in Nepal or India. We joined forces and danced to some house music at the south end of the beach. By now, the rain was again pouring. It was 1 or 2am, and it felt great. As usual, guys were using the shoreline as their personal urinals, though in a new twist on previous nights, women could be seen doing the same. The gross truth is that by the time people are using the water as a toilet, people are also swimming and playing around in all too close a proximity.

Around 3am, Steve was all but ready to head back to his bungalow for sleep. We parted ways and I went back to the house music on the south end of the beach. I ended up dancing with an Irish girl in front of a big stack of speakers for an hour or so. Despite the blaring music, we were able to talk a bit. Meanwhile, Steve was witnessing a couple having sex on the beach, and an English guy beating up 3 other guys by making use of some Muay Thai boxing techniques.

As the Irish girl had to remain stationary so her friend could find her, and they could depart the island by boat at 7am, I ventured up the beach to find a spot to watch the sunrise. I rolled up to the drum ‘n bass area and the music was booming. I loved the feeling that the music’s energy could drive me into the gulf.  It was exactly how I wanted to feel at a dance club when I arrived in Bangkok.  I grabbed a seat and peered out over the water, occasionally taking in the sights of drunk people passed out (often face down) in the sand, and people going for swims.

I started talking to a Dutch girl who was much more lively at this early hour than her friend who was clearly in need of sleep. The sun rose over the horizon, lighting up the hundreds, if not thousands of people, still dancing and mingling on the beach. Sometime around 7am, I waded through the water, took a quick shower, and amazingly drifted off to sleep despite the still-blaring trance music which always seemed to overpower all other noise.

Earlier in the week, I realized that if the party was begun by a bunch of drug-friendly ravers/backpackers/hippies back in the 90’s, then its popularity combined with stricter Thai drug policy has long since morphed it into an alcohol-fueled Spring Break for an international contingent of 18-25 year olds. That said, I found the overall vibe friendliest on Full Moon night.

Maybe it was all the compliments I received for those fluorescent flames on my head. :)

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The weather continued to be absolutely gorgeous. The day before the big event was the last day of a beach soccer tournament that I watched very little of.

Instead, I opted to use my time more wisely, such as getting a foot massage. As you can see in the above photo, I had some company. The little guy jumped on my lap and made himself comfortable the whole time. When it came time for me to leave, I lateraled him to the girl next to me so he could continue to live the life of luxury as a spa dog.

As sundown arrived, the club/bar/bucket vendor lights turned on. Trance began to boom from the Zoom club like clockwork. I ran into Maura and Laura on the beach and hung out with them for a bit at the Drop In bar. They had befriended a spunky Thai woman from Chiang Mai, a former sex worker, who was here on vacation. She was bisexual and a pretty blonde Swedish girl we had all just met started making out with her in front of me. The funny thing is I think she asked permission from a guy (possibly a boyfriend) also standing nearby.

The music at Drop In sucked. Remixes of modern pop hits is not for me, so I left Maura and Laura, and stumbled all over, dancing to trance and drum and bass. Every now and then, the sky would light up with fireworks and traditional Thai lanterns.

A girl stopped me at one point, wanting to paint a heart on my forehead. I allowed it, but then visions of embarrassing artwork entered my mind (like a lot of what I saw painted on guys’ backs). I approached a guy to find out what was there, and he looked mortified, so I didn’t get answer from him. I assumed the worst and used some tissue to wipe the paint.

I stopped back at my bungalow to fully wash it off.

I don’t know how I managed to stay awake, but I had a cheeseburger at 5am while watching Friends. I returned to my bungalow at sunrise to get my camera and snap a few photos. If I was spending a week on “Sunrise Beach” I couldn’t justify leaving without at least one shot of the sun coming up.

All in all, not a bad way to warm up for one last night of partying (at least on this beach)!

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July’s Full Moon Party was scheduled two days after the true full moon due do a Buddhist holiday. It wasn’t until sunset, when I was enjoying my first beer of the day at The Mountain Bar, that I learned there would be no music on Haad Rin’s beach that night.

Earlier, I grabbed a tasty lunch of panang curry with chicken and rice at a restaurant overlooking the beach. Every day, more and more people were arriving in hedonistic anticipation of the legendary party.

Being a vampire, I spent little of my afternoons in direct sunlight. The heat gave me the perfect excuse to spend too much money at internet cafes which were air-conditioned. As a blogger, I continue to appreciate the Thai’s investment in large, quality monitors for their patrons.

A WiFi card I had bought for use with my laptop became worthless after a power surge shot electric sparks from my AC adapter. At least this second time it has broken, I know the problem and am in a country where I should be able to get a replacement. Unfortunately, I don’t expect to be back in Bangkok for another 4-5 weeks, so the laptop has become 1kg of dead weight (like my whole time in Nepal).

I made good use of the rare quiet night on Haad Rin by getting a front row seat for a screening of The Beach at dinner. Ideally, I wanted to wait until I was on Ko Phi Phi, but then again, I read the book in Kathmandu of all places.

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By the conclusion of my second night, it was clear I was turning into a vampire. I would emerge from my bungalow later and later each day. After riggling around in bed for a bit, I’d open the door and lounge on my porch for awhile longer before getting up the energy to either go for a swim or find a cool place for lunch.

My sense of loneliness which had dogged me the first two weeks in Thailand faded away after meeting a bunch of people the first night, and Warren the second. All along, I’d kept in contact with Steve who was counting down the days until he too departed India for Thailand. I continued to entice him to the Full Moon Party by relaying my nightly tales of intoxicated adventure.

My theory is why mess with success so I grabbed a beer at the Mountain Bar for sunset. After a few minutes of admiring the view, or reading, maybe both, I joined a few girls nearby. Maura and Laura were Irish, giving me the opportunity to relay my love of their country (at least what I remember from a 2-week tour there 10 years ago).

After talking for awhile, they posed for a photo so I could earn another $10, and we headed down to the beach. It was their first night, so we took in the usual sights of fire jump rope at the Drop In bar, and well, who knows what else.  I’d dispensed with taking the camera below the Mountain Bar.  It was getting in the way when I was dancing like a fool in the sand.

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My first full day on Haad Rin was spent recovering from my first night. I poked around town, tested out some WiFi options in a pizza place and ice cream shop, and basically did nothing. As the afternoon rolled on, the beach filled up with people, though it was by no means crowded.

Around sunset, I descended upon the Mellow Mountain Bar for a Singha. I saw a guy who seemed to be on his own, and ventured to strike up a conversation. Warren was an engineering student and part time DJ from Cape Town, South Africa. He was feeling a bit down and out, I think, as his girlfriend with whom he’d been traveling in Thailand had already headed home.

We continued to talk over a second beer, and headed down to the beach at nightfall. Since he was only on the island for one night, he wanted to have fun. I was dying to puff some flavored tobacco from a hookah, so we set up camp and watched some fire dancers as more and more people filtered onto the beach.

As Warren didn’t want to get a room for just one night, I offered him my porch, which he used for a few hours sleep before catching the first ferry off the island, the start of a long journey back to Cape Town.

A few months ago, I was all but sure I’d make it to South Africa, however as my money wanes, so too does my belief that I’ll make it there. My current thinking is when it comes time to leave Southeast Asia, head for The Middle East – Dubai, or Cairo, depending on airfare.

If by some chance I do make it to Cape Town though, besides cage diving with Great White sharks, I have a new friend who offered to help show me around!

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My first beach read in Thailand was Do Travel Writers Go To Hell? I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and sent American author Thomas Kohnstamm a message through his website to let him know. As a result of his considerate response (and kind visit to this blog), I thought a short Q&A might help spread the word.

GoBackpacking: The book’s plot relies on your openness regarding salacious one night stands and alcohol/drug use. How did family, friends, and peers react when it was published?

TK: My mom didn’t care for all of the drinking stories. My girlfriend didn’t care for all of the sex stories. My father couldn’t have been more proud. Seriously though, it was hard to be open and honest about some of the less savory details… therefore I did not share the manuscript with any friends or family while I was working on it. Otherwise, I probably would have shied away from discussing certain aspects.

GoBackpacking: One reviewer likened your writing style to that of Hunter S. Thompson. Do you consider him an influence?

TK: I think that Thompson is a thematic influence. I have a lot of respect for him, but have only read a few of his books. In terms of actual writing style, I spent a lot more time reading and studying the techniques of Charles Bukowski.

GoBackpacking: Upon reading your book, why should travelers continue to trust the information presented by companies such as The Lonely Planet, especially as it relates to accommodations, restaurants, and nightlife?

TK: My point is that guidebooks are inherently subjective and somewhat arbitrary and therefore should not be treated as “The Travelers’ Bible” or the singular and correct approach to a destination. Guidebooks are still useful for recommendations, but I would argue that you will always be let down if you rely exclusively on a single source for information – when traveling, reading the news etc.

GoBackpacking: In addition to keeping notes for the guidebook, did you also keep a personal journal while traveling in Brazil? What purpose did it serve you at the time?

TK: I kept a bit of a journal – albeit an uneven one. I wrote basic observations on my laptop and recorded all sorts of details and factoids. I am fortunate to have a really good memory, so I rely primarily on my memory for my impressions of a place. I find that it is best to wait a while and be away from a place before I write about it.

GoBackpacking: Earlier in the year, The Lonely Planet began to make individual guidebook chapters available for download over the Internet. Do you foresee a time when hand held devices and increasingly small, WiFi-enabled laptops render paper guidebooks obsolete?

TK: Sure. It’s already happening in cities in North America, Western Europe and East Asia. I think that we are going to need better global wi-fi coverage and plans before it happens in developing countries too. I am sure that there’ll be some sort of a backlash though – a low tech travel movement or something along those lines. Such technology will be efficient and highly useful, but the old sense of “getting away from it all” will become increasingly hard to find.

GoBackpacking: Do you have any advice for how aspiring travel writers can get their foot in the door with guidebook companies? Does working at company’s such as The Lonely Planet or Rough Guides make it any easier to establish relationships with other print or online media organizations?

TK: Writing is one of the those random careers that has no established path. Having some writing experience and a lot of travel experience (especially concentrated experience in single region or country) will probably help to get your foot in the door with a guidebook company. It never hurts to have a contact who already works there and can pass along your resume and a writing sample. Luck, timing and mastery of a foreign language all help too. I don’t think that a relationship with a guidebook company will necessarily open doors for you in other media. However, guidebook research does give you lots of additional travel experience (if not a regional expertise), which, in itself, can be parlayed into travel writing assignments.

Do Travel Writers Go To Hell? is available on Amazon.com.

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After settling into my mellow mountain bungalow, I stopped in at the Mountain Bar below for a Singha (Thai beer) around sunset. In an effort to start meeting people before the big party, I joined Molly and Sarah, two Australian girls from Perth. After talking for an hour or so, we split off and I grabbed dinner at a restaurant in town which was screening Green Street Hooligans.

Almost every restaurant in Haad Rin has at least one big LCD television with surround sound, and they screen movies from early afternoon through the evening. Usual suspects (during my visit) included Anchorman, The Beach, Transformers, and Indiana Jones 4. Meanwhile, other restaurants’ entertainment subsists solely on endless reruns of Friends, The Family Guy, and The Simpsons. But you’ll never see The Family Guy screened in a restaurant known for playing Friends (or vice versa).

After dinner, I followed the increasingly loud music to the Drop In bar on the south end of the beach. I watched guys and girls jump a burning rope. Plenty of people would fall over or get hit by the fiery rope, yet aside from a quick dance, dip or duck to get away from the heat, they all seemed no worse for the wear.

The fire jump rope soon gave way to a fire hoop which people began to dive through. Every now and then, someone would trip up, fall, and scatter away from the blazing ring. The Thai guys managing these activities were always quick to react to such inevitabilities. After 8 months of traveling, I felt no need to take part in these tribal games. I was in good company as there were far more spectators than participants.

More than the tourist-driven stunts, I enjoyed the amazingly skillful shows put on by the fire dancers (twirlers, artists, or whatever they’re called). I was usually sitting close enough to wonder what horrific scene would unfold if a fiery staff were to suddenly slip from sweaty hands and spear me in the chest. I admired them all the more for allowing me to experience their skills without such an outcome.

The Cactus Bar had the only fire high jump on the beach. Whoever could jump the highest without knocking down the pole would win a beer. Near the top setting, the pole was at least as high as my neck, maybe 4.5-5 feet off the sand. At that point, only the guys who could do a proper forward dive and roll were able to compete. As I watched the spectacle unfold, with as usual, the plenty of guys tripping up on the flames, I wondered how it was that people didn’t break their necks more often, seeing as how they’re hurdling their drunken bodies head first over the flames.

I met a few Israelis and an Irish guy on the beach, finally retiring around 2am. The psy-trance music from the Zoom bar was booming until sunrise at 6am, as I soon came to learn, it would every night.

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After a week on Koh Samui’s busy and beautiful Chaweng Beach, I checked out of The Sands Resort bungalow, got picked up in an air-conditioned van and transferred to the pier. We had a 20-30 minute wait, then walked the warped wooden planks to the awaiting ferry. The surroundings were gorgeous – sparkling waters and lush green hills.

We set off. A boat full of the young and attractive – barely a family, kid or old person from Koh Samui. The tiniest, youngest girls had rolling suitcases heavier than themselves. The wind felt great as we cruised the 50 minutes to Koh Phangan. Unlike my ferry to Koh Samui, we arrived directly at the main pier on Sunset Beach, a few minutes walk from Sunrise Beach where the monthly Full Moon Parties are held.

I asked a couple of guys walking on the street for a hotel suggestion. They were sleeping at Mellow Mountain Bungalows at the far north end of the beach. Along the way there, I sweltered on the beach, stopping at various resorts – all too costly, though I was tempted by a $30/night place.

I ended up taking the mountain bungalow because it had a porch view of the beach. Probably not the best view as there are some trees in the way, but it offered some privacy in exchange.

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The real life inspiration for the beach in Alex Garland’s novel, “The Beach,” is part of the Ang Thong National Marine Park. As I was finding the cost of living noticeably higher in Thailand than Nepal or India, I decided to adopt a more prudent approach to my sightseeing. In other words, Mr. Ung’s jungle tour stringing together a bunch of small sights was out, and a day of sea kayaking was in.

I was picked up in a nicely air-conditioned van and shuttled to the pier where we boarded our big boat for the day. Our tour leader was the burly, tattooed Angus, wearing a Sex Pistols t-shirt. Later, we’d learn he’d been living in Thailand for the last 18 years. I sat with a group of young South African guys. We had a small group, just a few more people than the minimum required to set sail, but not enough to feel like it was crowded, or would require us to take turns with the kayaks.

After two hours of cruising to the northern end of the archipelago, we set down anchor and jumped in the kayaks. I paired up with the only other single traveler on board, an older German man. We followed Angus’ lead and weaved our way in and out of the limestone islands. The water was quite calm, which made the paddling feel almost effortless at times. After 45 minutes in the water, we got back on the boat and started immediately jumping off the second level. The South Africans went a step further, gaining an extra meter or two by climbing on the roof, but I had visions of falling off so I kept my efforts low key.

As we ate a tasty buffet lunch including chicken and vegetable curries, we motored our way south through the islands, anchoring at the beach entrance to Talay Nai (the lagoon within the mountains) a green salt water lake on one of the islands. It was a short walk up some steep stairs to get there, but the the views of the lake and surrounding islands were wonderful.

When we returned to the beach, the crowds from other boats had left and we had it to ourselves. We lounged in the water for awhile before taking the kayaks out for a second paddle. On the second trip it felt like we covered more distance, and I started to feel a bit worn out from the paddling. We took a few more leaps from the boat and returned to Kho Samui.

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I dedicated my first full day on Kho Samui to exploring Chaweng, writing, and reading “Do Travel Writers Go To Hell” by Thomas Kohnstamm, a book I came across in Bangkok. Published earlier in the year, it chronicles the experiences of a first-time writer for Lonely Planet on assignment in Brazil.

The beach was perfect – soft white sand, multi-colored water with light green in the shallows, and turquoise fading into darker shades of blue near the sections of reef. It was far cleaner than what I saw on Kuta, Bali, and the Thai people in town were much more laid back in regard to trying to sell tourists on tailored suits and taxi rides.

In the early evening, I went for a sunset walk minus the sun (which sets on the opposite end of the island), drank a Singha (Thai beer), and read some more while comfortably lounging on one of the free beach chairs. It felt like I was in a Corona commercial. I then followed the electronic music to Ark’s for dinner on the beach. I had a delicious tuna steak with baked potato and salad.

Wanting to save the end of my book for another day, I joined a few Dutch girls at an adjacent table. They were spending a month in Thailand, and like me (and thousands more), headed to Kho Phagnan for the July 19^th Full Moon Party. We talked over a few drinks, and as it got dark, more and more kids came around selling Styrofoam and flower leis, games of Connect Four, and various other novelty items.

Lanterns began to drift into the sky in the distance, and I was all about lighting one (having first seen them in “The Beach”). I wrote all three of our names on it, along with a flower, butterfly, and peace symbol, made a wish, and lit it up. Fireworks were shot off intermittently, adding to the wonderful all-around vibe and experience. The girls were staying at a different beach, and interested to check out one of the big dance clubs so we fought our way through the gauntlet of Thai prostitutes to The Green Mango, which filled up around 1am. After a bit of dancing, and a late night stop at McDonald’s, we called it a night.

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I took an overnight, double-decker bus filled with backpackers from Bangkok to Surat Thani. The bus/boat combination was $14, half the cost of the train/boat option, and more readily available, so I went with it. I got a few hours of sleep during the ride. I found the provided blankets necessary given the air-conditioning which was kept cranked up the whole way. I was sitting next to a nice Australian woman who was previously mistaken for a ladyboy by a drunk old white guy while we were waiting to be shown to the bus from Khao San road. I witnessed the awkward exchange and felt bad for her.

Around 6am, eleven hours after we began our journey, the bus dumped us off at a small outdoor cafe. The cafe was a staging ground for people to be shuttled to various connections depending on their ultimate island destination. After watching someone ride off on the back of a scooter, and a gaggle of people headed for Phuket pack into a pick-up, a giant luxury bus pulled up for those of us headed to Kho Samui. I grabbed a seat in the lower level lounge which was fit for a rock star.

What I expected to be a short ride turned into another hour of driving. Along the way, we filled up the bus with more of the Kho Samui bound. The bus pulled right onto the pier so it was only a few steps to the waiting ferry. Another one and a half hours later, the ferry stopped at Kho Samui.

Next, it was into the back of one of the modified pick-ups with the bench seating. These cool contraptions are the cheapest way to shuttle yourself around on the islands. Air-conditioned taxis are too costly, and I have no intention of learning how to ride a scooter after seeing the walking wounded upon arrival in Bangkok. I hopped off at Chaweng Beach, the busiest area on the island. I found a bungalow along one of the beach access roads, dropped off my stuff in the room, and before checking in, walked out to the water for my first view of a Thai beach.

It was truly picture-perfect.

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From Jeff:

I dare you to eat an Indian dish called Vindaloo in India.

Reward: $10

_____________________________

As my journeys in India have already come to a close, you might be wondering why I’m just now touching on the vindaloo dare. My attempts to find the fiery curry dish from Goa towards the end of my trip ended in vain, and my ego wouldn’t let it go. The rooftop train failure I could handle, not trying a spicy curry I couldn’t.

Backtracking to India, I received the dare while in northern McLeod Ganj, a Tibetan community more apt to offer Italian food (inextricably), momo’s and standard Indian fare than a regional dish like vindaloo. When I mentioned the dare to Marie, she said it was a dish that men ate in England after drinking to prove their manliness. Apparently it was hotter than hell, and I was a bit relieved I couldn’t find it right off the bat.

Surely Delhi, capital of India, would proffer such a feisty dish. My attempt to get a restaurant referral from a street hustler crashed and burned, and I was running out of time to hit the pavement around Connaught, so I mentioned the dare to Neil and his wife, who both offered to help me win the bet (to my great appreciation). The clock was ticking. On my last night, we found a Goan joint in a Delhi restaurant guide.

Neil drove us over to the popular marketplace which he use to visit regularly with his mom. Stalls offfered souvenirs and there was a food court with restaurants representing all of the regional cuisines of India. The only problem was we were informed the Goan place closed shop. Apparently vindaloo wasn’t so popular in the big city. I was bummed, but Neil still took me to a great Italian place, The Big Chill, where I devoured some risotto and chocolate cake as my last supper on the Indian subcontinent.

The first Indian restaurant I spotted around Khao San served vindaloo. I ordered a beer to build nerve, a 1.5 liter bottle of water to soothe my tongue, and the chicken vindaloo. It arrived quickly and I dug in only to find it mildly hot. Clearly, the mighty English would not prove their manhood with such a dish. It had been dumbed down for tourists. I vowed to return and explicitly request an intenser heat, but I ran across another restaurant first, and decided to make my last stand. I didn’t know what awaited me on the islands, so it was now or never.

I told the waiter my plight for intensely hot vindaloo. We understood each other. I skipped the beer this time, simply ensuring the water was readily available, along with a cooling dish of cucumber raita (yogurt). I’m happy to report the curry was very hot. When I swallowed the green peppers, it sharply burned my throat. My tongue, and to a lesser extent, my lips, felt hot for a good 10-15 minutes. I quietly hoped I didn’t just sabotage my overnight bus ride.

Since I didn’t pass out from the heat, or consume the dish in India, I am leaving judgment on this one to Jeff.

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I figured to be a day or two from leaving the big city for weeks of island-hopping in the south, so I took advantage of the weekend by visiting the Chatuchack Market via the modern, elevated Skytrain. As was increasingly apparent, the Thais love their air-conditioning cold.

The market was massive, selling everything from sharks to furniture. I walked around for an hour, mostly in search of a scorpion on a stick so as to satisfy another dare, and my ego. I found a few street carts selling bugs – crickets or grasshoppers, worms, big roaches, and most disturbingly, little birds. Sober, and without peer pressure and a potential monetary payoff, I couldn’t bring myself to try such treats.

Seeing piles of the critters up close under the hot sun did not make the idea of eating a large, crunchy scorpion any more appealing. It did make me realize if I do find scorpions, I won’t be able to eat them without a few beers in me, and even then there’s a good chance I’ll have a hell of a time choking it down.

The heat wore on me and I decided to check out one of Bangkok’s malls. Siam Paragon was along my return Skytrain route so I hopped off and admired the majestic exterior. The lobby, with it’s multi-storey waterfalls, glass elevators, and foliage was quite a site. Further inside, luxury retail shops far out of the price ranges of most mere mortals, lined the halls.

I went to the top level, hoping Indiana Jones was still playing. I had missed it, but Steve Carrell is a favorite of mine and I opted for “Get Smart.” Did I mention the lobby of the movie theater was really cool? The ticket cost $19, which was a bit shocking, but I went with it. The saleswoman told me to pick my seat from a display of the theater layout on a flat computer monitor. I asked her which one was good, and she confidently replied “all of them.”

Ticket in hand, I walked toward the metal detector which guarded the entrance to the theaters. The usher pointed me further down though, to a separate entrance, minus a metal detector. I started to walk toward the #2 theater when a woman ushered me over to a dimly lit lounge.

The theater wasn’t opening for another ten minutes however I was free to order a cocktail. “When in Rome,” I thought, and asked for a gin and tonic. Several other people were enjoying the supplied massage chairs in the area. A few sips after the drink had arrived, I paid and was walked to my seat in the theater.

I hadn’t realized it at the time, but “Get Smart” was playing in one of four luxury Nokia theaters, thus the special treatment. The theater and screen were as big as many in the USA, yet instead of watching amidst a sea of people, it felt like I was in the private theater of a football star on an episode of MTV’s “Cribs.”

I settled into my leather seat, tapping the electronic reclining control until I was nearly horizontal. It was ultra-quiet so adjustments during the movie were a non-issue. I sipped my drink, covered myself in the supplied blanket, and rested my head on the pillow. The movie itself was cute, and I needed the good laughs it supplied. I knew the bathroom would be worth a look, so I snuck out when needed and sure enough, it was a bathroom fit for us VIP’s who need a drink before our movie and can be trusted not to carry weaponry to the mall.

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#9 – From Dan:

Looks like you’re running low on dares. Now that you’re in China I dare you to ride a scooter (as a passenger or driver) down a ridiculously crowded street. Just like in the pictures.

Seems to me you could do this in either China or India, but you can do it where ever you have time/motivation.

Provide photographic evidence and your compensation will be $25 plus rental fee if you have to rent to complete your task. I’ll up the winnings if the street is REALLY crowded.

Reward: $25+

Status: Completed

After a few days in Bangkok without meeting anyone, I was starting to feel like my bang-up start was more like a bust. I was feeling lonely. Invariably, I’ve found this happens when I have the highest expectations for socializing. Then, when I’m asleep at the wheel, I end up meeting and hanging out with cool people.

To entertain myself, and hopefully earn a few bucks, I took on Dan’s dare. My friend Charlie in Chengdu had a motorcycle, but it was broken at the time I was staying with him. After a mentally traumatic mini-scooter accident when I was a kid at day camp, I lost any desire to ride motorized bikes. I prefer to be encased in metal, especially after seeing the way people drive in India.

Motorcycle taxis are commonplace in Thailand, so I hired one for a loop around Democracy Monument near Khao San. It took a little translation support to ensure the driver knew what I wanted, and he delivered in great fashion. Surely agreeing to what was likely a generous overpayment didn’t hurt.

Unlike paragliding, taking photos and video on the back of a bike was a breeze. I’m sure it would’ve been a dirtier, dustier, bumpier affair in India or Nepal, but there was plenty of traffic which we weaved in and out of at red lights. It turned out to be a memorable experience which helped to lift my mood.

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I knew Buddha burnout was an occupational risk of delving into the world of Buddhist culture as early as Hong Kong, yet Wat Pho (wat=temple-monastery) held the 46-meter reclining Buddha I think was featured in and early scene from “The Beach,” or at least a photo from the back sleeve of the movie soundtrack’s CD which I’d been using to motivate me for years and carrying around with me for the last 7 months. 

Soon after deciding to save for a trip around the world, I taped it up in my apartment where I could see it every day.  Besides the track listing, there was a photo of the three main characters right before they swim to the secret island, and the giant golden reclining Buddha with Mr. DiCaprio leaning against the legs.  Whether or not it was the same Buddha didn’t matter to me at that point.  I felt like taking my CD insert there was a final vindication of my master plan.  I did it, and still had many more months to keep living the dream. 

PS – I’m still carrying around that insert.  Makes for a nice bookmark!

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On my second day in Bangkok, I took my first Thai tuk-tuk ride to the starting point of a walking tour suggested in my guidebook as the one I did in Kathmandu turned out to be a pleasant surprise. My first stop was the white-walled Grand Palace and Emerald Buddha Temple.

Before I reached the main gate, a guy who appeared to be guarding a non-tourist entrance struck up a conversation with me. He seemed friendly, indicating the sight was closed for a few hours due to a ceremony for a relative of the king who had died earlier in the year. I can’t recall if he tried to sell me on transport or an alternative at that point, but I headed onward toward the main gate where a sign clearly warned tourists not to trust “wily strangers.” And of course my guidebook was plastered with warnings (as usual) not to trust people who say a hotel, sight, temple or whatever is closed or under repair. The Thai scam is to sell you on some alternate, short-term form of sightseeing whereby the guy will earn a commission, thus allowing you to return to your original sight of interest later. Later, I’d find out it was just a small section inside which was closed to tourists.

Once inside the complex, I was blown away by the beautiful Thai architecture. I’d seen a glimpse of the unique style in Bodhgaya, and it was in full effect around the Palace and Temple. The facades of the buildings and statues were covered in small colored tiles, many of them mirrored. They formed massive mosaics which sparkled and shined in the sunlight. When people ask me if I miss home or whether it is hard to travel for such a long time all at once, I tend to reflect on moments like these and always respond “nope!”

The Emerald Buddha is actually made of jade, and the little guy sits atop a stunningly ornate golden altar. No photography is allowed inside the temple, however visitors did have room to sit on the floor and admire the interior decorations.

Back outside, everyone was taking photos like mad. I can’t recall the last time I was at a site and saw so many tour groups. I relished my independence. I rarely remember the facts thrown out by guides. Usually, I’d rather simply remember the sense of amazement I feel when seeing a special sight for the first time.

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What a difference a 4.5 hour flight can make in one’s travel experience.  On my taxi ride to the Delhi airport, the driver had the gall to try and sell me on a trip to a rug shop even as I was clearly leaving the country.  I shut him down immediately,  I could be good-humored about it, seeing as how I was literally leaving the country in a few hours. 

The service on the THAI flight was awesome, the airport was efficient (if not practically empty), and the express bus one of the nicest I’d ever ridden.  Seeing a skyline filled with high rise office buildings, multi-lane highways packed with cars, and not a bicycle rickshaw or wayward cow in sight made me realize how I’d adopted life in India as my personal reality.  Not that I ever fully managed to accept cows eating trash in the streets as routine.

My first day in Bangkok was dedicated to doing nothing.  The luxury of a full vacation day dedicated to nothing right from the start of entering a new country will be unique to this trip.  In the future, I imagine typical 1-2 week American holidays will require compressed schedules necessitating a running start to intercontinental travel.  In the here and now, I purposefully chill out on my first day in a new country.  It has served me well so far, and I relish the observations made on my first day in Thailand.

7-11’s are everywhere, stocking the desirable (and trendy) travel size toiletries, snacks, ice cream, and so on.  In Bangkok, they are also the temperature of blast freezers, creating welcome respites from the 90-degree heat.  Restaurants and bars, at least around Khao San, have walls draped with large plasma televisions.  I duck into one as a rain shower has the t-shirt vendors covering their merchandise with plastic tarps.  I watch the parade of tourists, travelers, backpackers, and Thais walk by.  I haven’t seen so many white people in one place since Australia back in January.  And after 7 weeks in India, where female tourists are almost always wearing full length skirts or pants, I couldn’t help but take notice of all the girls wearing as little clothes as possible. 

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The plane set down early at the brand new Suvarnabhumi Airport, 30km east of the capital city. Walking through the cavernous, empty halls on my way to immigration, it was easy to tell the country was on top of their game with regard to meeting present and future transportation needs.

Because everyone and their mother seemed to have been to Thailand before me, I expected the infrastructure for tourists, travelers, backpackers, and desperate old men would make life infinitely easier than my past few months. The THAI flight, the new airport, and the luxurious express bus to Bangkok helped confirm that elementary hunch.

In the early evening, as traffic turned a 35-minute sprint into a 2-hour marathon bus ride (but a comfortable, air-conditioned one), light rain began to fall. I’d left the monsoon weather of India for the monsoon weather of Southeast Asia, however a few hours or days of rain at a time was a small deterrent to spending weeks at a time on the legendary, tropical islands of Thailand.

Practically the entire bus of backpackers disembarked at Th Khao San Road stop. The street I saw did not strike me as the epicenter of backpacking in SE Asia, if not the world. I ducked into a travel agency to help get my bearings. A few paces past the agency, a right turn around a corner, and I was at the western end of Khao San. The road was closed to automotive traffic save for a few taxis and tuk-tuks, which was good because a lot of people would get run over otherwise.

I began to walk through the gauntlet of cheap souvenir stalls, mini-bars, neon lights, and party people dining al fresco. It was early evening so the atmosphere was relaxed as Western women in short shorts shopped, deadlocked dudes listened to Bob Marley, and people wandered around feeding their faces with pad thai bought from street vendors. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

After making a habit of arriving in new cities, countries, cultures, and environments for the past 7 months, I felt confident walking the distance of the road alone. Still, while trying to take in the sights, smells, and sounds, I didn’t want to have that “fresh off the plane” look. I don’t know why. If there was ever a place to care less about having a 20-pound backpack strapped to your back with your eyes wide open, it was Khao San, where backpacking virgins and veterans have been arriving “fresh off the plane” daily for decades.

My first choice of lodgings was full, which is typical when a place is listed in The Lonely Planet, though they referred me to a bigger hotel down a nearby soi (street) which suited me fine. I had a small, well-lit, quiet, fan room with an immaculately clean toilet/shower just off backpacker central in a capital city for $6/night.

The last few weeks in India, I had been daydreaming about spending my first night in Bangkok at a giant, modern dance club with loud house music and plenty of bars. Instead, I grabbed a cheeseburger and fries at the restaurant below my hotel and reasoned that I was too tired, and it was too rainy, for such endeavors.

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My flight from Delhi to Bangkok was my 11^th in 7 months so it seems fitting that I received the best service to-date after paying my dues to the air gods.

The plane was my biggest of the trip, a Boeing 747 jumbo jet. I always loved the second level afforded to passengers on these planes, not that I’d ever spent time up there. Walking back to my requested window seat, which sat in the middle of the plane’s gigantic wing (and thus affording little in the way of a view), my eyes lit up at all the space in cabin, especially the width of the seats and legroom.

I settled into my seat, thankful to yet again have no one sitting directly adjacent to me I began leafing through the airline’s in-flight magazine, Sawasdee. In celebration of their 48^th year in operation, a feature article was dedicated to listing the “48 most beautiful destinations across the globe.” Curious to see how I stacked up to the editors’ list, I started checking off destinations I’d seen in life. Thanks to a family vacation (Grand Canyon), a post-collegiate summer in Europe (Sistine Chapel, Prague) and this trip (Taj Mahal, Fraser Island, The Remarkables, Golden Temple, Himalaya, Kathmandu Valley, Great Barrier Reef), I’d managed to see 35% of their list (with the hope of upping it to 58% by year’s end). Of course it dawned on me that many of these places likely lie on a THAI Airways route, however it was still a fun exercise for my ego.

When I realized my earphones were broken while waiting at the Delhi airport, I felt annoyed at having to buy a third pair in less than two months, let alone spending the flight without my favorite tunes. THAI Airways solved the problem in the form of free ear bud headphones. Like the previous two cheap pairs I bought in India, they were far from the best, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Our 747 was airborne before I knew it, and complimentary drinks were being offered. I decided to take advantage of this arcane concept by imbibing two screwdrivers with my tasty chicken and rice lunch. Feeling on top of the world, and being there physically at 40,000 feet, I made productive use of the travel time (and lack of view) by writing about my final days in India.

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