Saturday, November 17, 2007
Wednesday, 10.31: Ko Lanta
The next morning, I again woke at a reasonable hour (because the sun set and came up so early in Thailand, my internal clock was a lot more conscientious on vacation than it normally is; go figure). I had breakfast at my resort (I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, so there was no more pregnancy confusion) before heading over to Baan Phu Lae, where Bri was waiting for me, along with the driver who was taking us to meet the kayak tour. As soon as we got out on the dirt road, we saw (or rather, felt) the effects of the previous night’s rainstorm—gigantic ruts. In some places, the road looked almost impassible, but somehow our driver managed to navigate the sudden ditches, and we bumped our way along to where the road was paved, where we transferred into the kayak company’s truck.
Although Bri had specifically asked about a trip through Seaborn Ventures (recommended by our guidebook) the previous day at Baan Phu Lae, they had booked us instead with Lanta Kayak, which pissed us off a little because Bri had been lead to believe that we were indeed going with Seaborn Ventures. But after seeing the Lanta Kayak slogan on the staff members’ shirts (“We care about your holiday”), we figured we’d be fine. We set off down the road, stopping at a super-posh resort to pick up a German couple, then at a newspaper office to pick up an older Thai woman who turned out to be the German couple’s guide for the day. Soon, the truck stopped at a canal in the middle of a mangrove forest, and we walked along a slightly rickety wooden walkway to a dock where several longtail boats were tied up. One of the Lanta Kayak guys explained to me and Bri that we would ride in the longtail boat first, stop off to feed some monkeys, then travel on to Ko Talabeng for kayaking, then ride the longtail over to Ko Bubu for lunch and some swimming. I noticed a distressing lack of snorkeling in this itinerary, which was the main reason I’d wanted to go on such a tour, and when I asked the guy about the possibility, he said that we could take some masks with us, but it was doubtful that we’d be able to get in any good snorkeling. I was pretty disappointed (snorkeling was one of the things I’d been looking most forward to when planning the trip), but there wasn’t much I could do about it at that point, so I told myself that seeing monkeys would have to make up for seeing fish.
Which it kind of did—I’d never seen a monkey outside a zoo before, and while there was something sort of zoo-like about how the monkeys all congregated in this one particular spots because they knew that boats of farangs would inevitably stop and feed them bananas, it was still pretty cool. Well, until the monkeys started trying to board our boat. I wasn’t really feeling that. Fortunately, they stayed on the roof, although one of them did poop onto the railing in a spot where Bri just happened to put her hand while trying to get a better angle for shooting a video. After the Thai kid who was with us had distributed all of the bananas from his bag, we continued toward the ocean and Ko Talabeng.
As we pulled up to where we would put in the kayaks, I could only marvel at how gorgeous the scenery was—the island was basically a huge limestone formation rising out of the bright green ocean, with a few deserted, unspoiled sandy beaches scattered here and there. We pulled up to one of the beaches and disembarked from the longtail, and Bri and I pulled on our lifejackets and got our stuff into dry bags while our longtail driver and guide unloaded the kayaks. Bri and I rode in one kayak, while our guide rode in another by himself. He led us all the way around the perimeter of the island, pointing out wildlife (including what looked like a brown-and-white-polka-dotted jellyfish), letting us paddle into a few caves (in the first one, he tried to wake up the bats, until Bri and I assured him it was just fine to let them sleep) and take a couple of photo-op pit stops. The coolest thing we saw, though, we didn’t have a chance to capture on film—while paddling around the back side of the island, an enormous sea turtle swam by, only feet away from our kayak. By the time we both had a chance to marvel at the turtle, it had already disappeared down into the emerald-green depths.
By the time we had circled around to the pull-out location (a gorgeous beach that I probably could have lounged on all day, if not for my horrible sunburn), we were more than ready for lunch, which was next on the agenda. First, though, we had to ride over to Ko Bubu (needless to say, we had tons of fun saying “Ko Bubu” in a Yogi Bear voice), an island in the bay between Ko Lanta and the mainland, where the water was a little clearer (though still quite green) and very calm. We met back up with the German couple, who had spent their time exploring Ko Bubu with their guide. As we feasted on shrimp fried rice, we exchanged travel stories. (All I can really remember now is that they mentioned that their room had been invaded by a lizard, an occurrence we’d already had plenty of times. Bri and I later looked up the resort where they were staying and discovered that it cost something outrageous, like $500 a night, which in my mind should probably buy you a little more lizard protection. But anyway.) After lunch, I made a halfhearted attempt to snorkel but soon gave up when I realized that, even though I could see through the water at Ko Bubu, there was really nothing to see. Instead, Bri and I just swam for a little while, then walked along the shore until it was time to leave.
Tired and windblown, we pulled back into the dock, where the German couple’s guide gave us a pomegranate to eat on the way back to our resort. Once we’d dropped them off, we continued down the road until it turned into dirt, where we parked and waited for our ride to come from Baan Phu Lae. Only it never actually materialized, so finally the people from Lanta Kayak just sent us off in the back of a pickup truck that was going that way anyway, where we tried our best not to be thrown out as the bumpy road sent us jostling around. By the time we got back, the sun was just starting to make its descent and, even though we were both tired after the kayaking adventure, we decided that we should go for one last swim. Apparently late afternoon is a popular swimming time for the locals, because the beach was packed (well, relatively speaking). I indulged in what had become my new favorite ocean activity: diving into a wave and doing a flip just as it crested. (Seriously, you should try it some time. So much fun!) A couple of the Thai guys who were swimming near us saw me doing this and tried to attempt it, too, but they were having some problems flipping all the way over, so I motioned to them that they should use their arms to help propel them. This appeared to do the trick, and thus the Clare-and-Bri-patented technique of wave-flipping was passed on to a new country.
We had intended to swim until sunset, but the lower the sun got, the colder we became, so we decided to call it a day and head over to Baan Phu Lae for an early dinner. While eating more spicy seafood (I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as much squid in my life as I did those three days at the beach) and washing it down with elaborate fruity cocktails, we finally got to witness the famous Ko Lanta sunset. After dinner, Bri walked me back over to Bamboo Bay so she could borrow a magazine from my stash. As soon as I walked into my bungalow and turn on the light, I saw something scurry across the floor and dart out a hole in the corner of the room. I told Bri what I’d seen, and she assured me it was probably just a lizard, although my instincts (pretty well-honed at this point, let’s be honest) told me it was a mouse. Still, as I’d actually seen it leave the bungalow, I didn’t really have anything to worry about—although that only added fuel to my desire to leave the rustic-ness of the beach behind and get back to the civilization of Bangkok. When my mysterious night visitor was even more vocal that night (although the fact that I had not yet been attacked had made me a little more nonchalant about the noise), and when, just before dawn, I heard noises that had me convinced a bat was trying to break into the bungalow, that desire was pretty much cemented.
Continue to Day 11, Ko Lanta to Bangkok
The next morning, I again woke at a reasonable hour (because the sun set and came up so early in Thailand, my internal clock was a lot more conscientious on vacation than it normally is; go figure). I had breakfast at my resort (I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, so there was no more pregnancy confusion) before heading over to Baan Phu Lae, where Bri was waiting for me, along with the driver who was taking us to meet the kayak tour. As soon as we got out on the dirt road, we saw (or rather, felt) the effects of the previous night’s rainstorm—gigantic ruts. In some places, the road looked almost impassible, but somehow our driver managed to navigate the sudden ditches, and we bumped our way along to where the road was paved, where we transferred into the kayak company’s truck.
Although Bri had specifically asked about a trip through Seaborn Ventures (recommended by our guidebook) the previous day at Baan Phu Lae, they had booked us instead with Lanta Kayak, which pissed us off a little because Bri had been lead to believe that we were indeed going with Seaborn Ventures. But after seeing the Lanta Kayak slogan on the staff members’ shirts (“We care about your holiday”), we figured we’d be fine. We set off down the road, stopping at a super-posh resort to pick up a German couple, then at a newspaper office to pick up an older Thai woman who turned out to be the German couple’s guide for the day. Soon, the truck stopped at a canal in the middle of a mangrove forest, and we walked along a slightly rickety wooden walkway to a dock where several longtail boats were tied up. One of the Lanta Kayak guys explained to me and Bri that we would ride in the longtail boat first, stop off to feed some monkeys, then travel on to Ko Talabeng for kayaking, then ride the longtail over to Ko Bubu for lunch and some swimming. I noticed a distressing lack of snorkeling in this itinerary, which was the main reason I’d wanted to go on such a tour, and when I asked the guy about the possibility, he said that we could take some masks with us, but it was doubtful that we’d be able to get in any good snorkeling. I was pretty disappointed (snorkeling was one of the things I’d been looking most forward to when planning the trip), but there wasn’t much I could do about it at that point, so I told myself that seeing monkeys would have to make up for seeing fish.
Which it kind of did—I’d never seen a monkey outside a zoo before, and while there was something sort of zoo-like about how the monkeys all congregated in this one particular spots because they knew that boats of farangs would inevitably stop and feed them bananas, it was still pretty cool. Well, until the monkeys started trying to board our boat. I wasn’t really feeling that. Fortunately, they stayed on the roof, although one of them did poop onto the railing in a spot where Bri just happened to put her hand while trying to get a better angle for shooting a video. After the Thai kid who was with us had distributed all of the bananas from his bag, we continued toward the ocean and Ko Talabeng.
As we pulled up to where we would put in the kayaks, I could only marvel at how gorgeous the scenery was—the island was basically a huge limestone formation rising out of the bright green ocean, with a few deserted, unspoiled sandy beaches scattered here and there. We pulled up to one of the beaches and disembarked from the longtail, and Bri and I pulled on our lifejackets and got our stuff into dry bags while our longtail driver and guide unloaded the kayaks. Bri and I rode in one kayak, while our guide rode in another by himself. He led us all the way around the perimeter of the island, pointing out wildlife (including what looked like a brown-and-white-polka-dotted jellyfish), letting us paddle into a few caves (in the first one, he tried to wake up the bats, until Bri and I assured him it was just fine to let them sleep) and take a couple of photo-op pit stops. The coolest thing we saw, though, we didn’t have a chance to capture on film—while paddling around the back side of the island, an enormous sea turtle swam by, only feet away from our kayak. By the time we both had a chance to marvel at the turtle, it had already disappeared down into the emerald-green depths.
By the time we had circled around to the pull-out location (a gorgeous beach that I probably could have lounged on all day, if not for my horrible sunburn), we were more than ready for lunch, which was next on the agenda. First, though, we had to ride over to Ko Bubu (needless to say, we had tons of fun saying “Ko Bubu” in a Yogi Bear voice), an island in the bay between Ko Lanta and the mainland, where the water was a little clearer (though still quite green) and very calm. We met back up with the German couple, who had spent their time exploring Ko Bubu with their guide. As we feasted on shrimp fried rice, we exchanged travel stories. (All I can really remember now is that they mentioned that their room had been invaded by a lizard, an occurrence we’d already had plenty of times. Bri and I later looked up the resort where they were staying and discovered that it cost something outrageous, like $500 a night, which in my mind should probably buy you a little more lizard protection. But anyway.) After lunch, I made a halfhearted attempt to snorkel but soon gave up when I realized that, even though I could see through the water at Ko Bubu, there was really nothing to see. Instead, Bri and I just swam for a little while, then walked along the shore until it was time to leave.
Tired and windblown, we pulled back into the dock, where the German couple’s guide gave us a pomegranate to eat on the way back to our resort. Once we’d dropped them off, we continued down the road until it turned into dirt, where we parked and waited for our ride to come from Baan Phu Lae. Only it never actually materialized, so finally the people from Lanta Kayak just sent us off in the back of a pickup truck that was going that way anyway, where we tried our best not to be thrown out as the bumpy road sent us jostling around. By the time we got back, the sun was just starting to make its descent and, even though we were both tired after the kayaking adventure, we decided that we should go for one last swim. Apparently late afternoon is a popular swimming time for the locals, because the beach was packed (well, relatively speaking). I indulged in what had become my new favorite ocean activity: diving into a wave and doing a flip just as it crested. (Seriously, you should try it some time. So much fun!) A couple of the Thai guys who were swimming near us saw me doing this and tried to attempt it, too, but they were having some problems flipping all the way over, so I motioned to them that they should use their arms to help propel them. This appeared to do the trick, and thus the Clare-and-Bri-patented technique of wave-flipping was passed on to a new country.
We had intended to swim until sunset, but the lower the sun got, the colder we became, so we decided to call it a day and head over to Baan Phu Lae for an early dinner. While eating more spicy seafood (I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as much squid in my life as I did those three days at the beach) and washing it down with elaborate fruity cocktails, we finally got to witness the famous Ko Lanta sunset. After dinner, Bri walked me back over to Bamboo Bay so she could borrow a magazine from my stash. As soon as I walked into my bungalow and turn on the light, I saw something scurry across the floor and dart out a hole in the corner of the room. I told Bri what I’d seen, and she assured me it was probably just a lizard, although my instincts (pretty well-honed at this point, let’s be honest) told me it was a mouse. Still, as I’d actually seen it leave the bungalow, I didn’t really have anything to worry about—although that only added fuel to my desire to leave the rustic-ness of the beach behind and get back to the civilization of Bangkok. When my mysterious night visitor was even more vocal that night (although the fact that I had not yet been attacked had made me a little more nonchalant about the noise), and when, just before dawn, I heard noises that had me convinced a bat was trying to break into the bungalow, that desire was pretty much cemented.
Continue to Day 11, Ko Lanta to Bangkok
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