Bottle Beach revisited

I spent quite a while deliberating whether to go back to Bottle Beach on Koh Pha Ngan. I had stayed there for a while during my previous travels 7 years ago and had very fond memories of the beautiful crescent shaped beach which was cut off from the rest of the island by wooded limestone cliffs. Would it still be the same unspoilt paradise? Would the laid back atmosphere have changed? Would – horror of horrors – 7-eleven have appeared on the beach along with a string of western style restaurants? I had told George so much about the place that I finally decided that we should pay it another visit and if my worst nightmares came true, we would escape and pretend we hadn’t seen it!

Our ferry from Koh Tao pulled up to Koh Pha Ngan and we were met by a representative from Smile resort, who ushered us into the back of his 4x4. I remembered the resort from having dinner there many times before, so took this as a good sign and hopped in. We balanced ourselves in the back of the truck, along with all the luggage and hung on tight as we made our way across the hilly centre of the island to the northern beaches. When I had visited previously, the only access to Bottle beach was by longtail boat from the next beach along and so I was slightly alarmed to learn that there was now a road and had visions of scooter loads of tourists buzzing around the beach. When I saw the road, I realised why we were in a 4x4 – it was an incredibly steep, pot-holed dirt track, punctuated by streams and fords which we had to pass. We did see one determined man trying to make his way down on a scooter – brakes on full but still skidding at quite a speed through the gravel. I crossed my fingers that we would see him on the beach later enjoying a cold drink! (We never did, but I’m hoping it was because he gave up and turned back.)

When we finally made it to the beach, I saw the glistening turquoise water, white sand and swinging hammocks and breathed a sigh of relief – it was as lovely as I had remembered! The long curved beach had remained unspoilt and had managed to escape mass tourism development. We were shown to our bungalow in the hills overlooking the sea, which was an upgrade from the ramshackle bungalows which had stood before. To be honest, that’s one bit of development I don’t mind - outside toilets were never something I had got used to! We were advised that electricity was only available between 6pm and 10am and the showers were cold water only. We then had to shoo away a snake from the front door, which we were assured wasn’t dangerous, and I realised that Bottle beach may have smartened up, but it was still loveably rough around the edges.

We spent the next four days enjoying beach life – relaxing on the beach, swimming or snorkelling in the warm sea and spending time reclining back on axe-pillows in each of the 4 restaurants, where the staff all seemed to be having at least as much fun as the guests. The laid-back, friendly vibe seemed to be catching and everyone on the beach spent their time happily throwing Frisbees, playing volley-ball and generally having fun, it was addictive. I slipped into a routine of running along the beach every afternoon as the sun was setting, before we settled down for an evening barbeque, cold beer and competitive game of cards or backgammon (well, we tried to learn how to play backgammon, taught by a couple of French men after a few beers).

 It seems that I’m not the only one who developed a fondness for the beach – we met people who had been coming back every year, as one guy described it “We leave and then 8 months later start getting withdrawal symptoms and book another trip back”. We even heard a rumour of one man who arrived 7 years ago and still hadn’t left! I was delighted that we had come back and I can imagine the withdrawal symptoms will start setting in around September time....

Arriving in style on the back of the 4x4

Our corner of the beautiful Bottle Beach

Smile resort

George beating me at draughts... again

My evening jog

Fully relaxed and happy after a few days on the beach

Sun, Sea, Storms and SCUBA

After a final farewell to Bangkok and all that goes with it Jill and I took a night train south to the port of Chumpon where we would get a boat out to Koh Tao, an Island in the Gulf of Thailand famous for it good diving.

The train journey was a far cry from the shambolic buses we had become used to. We­ sat in our facing seats watching the last glimpses of the darkening Bangkok flash past the window. Before long all we could see in the window was our own reflection and the faint hint of lights beyond. By 9 a uniformed man came round and turned our seats into bunk-beds with the skill and speed of someone who had done the job for far too long. And so we said goodnight and went to our beds with the train snaking towards our destination with purpose.

By 4am we were roused from our beds and loaded up with our bags, we hopped out onto the track of a small station that was dotted with tourists, dizzy with sleep drinking tea, coffee and hot chocolate while they waited for the transfer to the islands, we joined them in waiting. By 6am we were on the boat and pulling out into the sea with the threat of a storm in the skies above us. The journey was choppy and within 15 minutes the first person aboard gave in to the urge to be sick. Within another 15 minutes many more had fallen victim and were huddled by the toilets like ship wreck victims around a lifeboat. They looked pale, defeated and focuses on the job in hand. For many, the 3 hour journey must have felt like a lifetime but by mid morning we were back on dry land and excited to explore a new island.

We had decided to spend the first couple of days on the island at a relaxed and low key corner of Koh Tao to swim in the sea, relax on the beach, eat good food and snorkel. Unfortunately the storm that had threatened as we left Chumpon was now in full swing and with the sea thrashing at the shore we were forced to find other things to do. One of the main reasons for heading to Koh Tao was so that I could do my PADI open water qualification, my birthday present from Jill. So we waterproofed up and headed to Sairee beach where most of the dive centres were and lined up a 3 and a half day course. And so by day 3 on Koh Tao, with the storm clouds showing signs of relenting, I began my course in the classroom learning about lungs and pressure and what not to do when under water. I was then given homework to do over dinner.

The second day was more theory and then it was into the pool to see how we coped with the new and, on the surface at least, cumbersome equipment. We went through various scenarios, what would you do if your regulator came out? You ran out of air? Your mask came off? It was great as we began to get used to the feeling of being underwater and began to understand and trust the equipment.

By the 3^rd day we were all keen to get out into the open sea and experience diving for real. We took a boat out to the other side of the island and there we did 2 dives both to 12 metres. The feeling of descending into the clear deep blue sea was like nothing I had done before, I was nervous, more because I was unsure how I would deal with the situation, would I like the feeling? Would I panic? But it was incredible, the heavy, restricting equipment suddenly felt like a Saville Row suit, and I felt weightless. After the first dive which involved us simply getting used to things we went down again. This time, after a cruise around we sunk to the ocean floor and there we were instructed to take out our regulators and throw them over our shoulders. They are attached to your tank and won’t go more than a few feet, but you are trusting yourself to do everything you had been taught, “don’t hold your breath!” After that we did buddy breathing, if you are out of air and need to share with your ‘buddy’, it was great and reassuring to be so calm under water and so confident in what we were doing after only 2 and a half days of teaching. Back at the beach we all agreed that we couldn’t wait for tomorrow where we would be doing 2 dives at Shark Island to a depth of 18 metres.

I met Jill, full of tales to tell and excitement for what was to come and we walked along the beach and ate barbequed chicken skewers with the sea breaking at our feet. I woke at 5:30am on the final day and was at the equipment hut promptly at 6. The mosquitoes were also there and we loaded our bags and the van to the sound of slaps and claps as people tried to evade and swat the determined little buggers. We were on the water as the sun won its battle with the thin morning cloud and broke through and in the water before its heat could be felt. The first dive was as amazing and beautiful as the previous day, we swam through coral reefs and startled fish, we sunk down until we were looking up at the submerged mountains. I swam on my back watching the bubbles dance through the water from the deep blue where we swam to the almost white surface. It’s a rare thing to experience so many new feelings, sensations and sights in such a short space of time, and I wanted more!

The final dive was my favourite. We were told that we would be taking off our masks, switching them with our ‘buddy’ and then switching back before having to replace the now full of water mask and emptying it, all at 16 metres. I was interested to see how I would deal with this. I hadn’t enjoyed it in the pool although I had managed it fine, but at that depth, who knows? We went down slowly to about 10 metres, swimming out away from the boat, through the coral mountains and into the dark beyond. We went down further, and settled on the ocean floor. It was the turn of the first pair to switch mask before us and so we knelt in the sand, being pushed back and forth by the water. As the switch was taking place a school of long silver fish approached us, looking with interest at these unusual creatures. They began to slowly circle us, starting at my kneeling shoulder they circled to 2 metres above us, 4 fish deep and 20 high surrounded all 5 of us. I put out a hand and watched them swim around it like the Vietnamese scooters of Hanoi had done as we crossed the road all those weeks ago. It was a moment that I will remember for a long time, my first really jaw dropping moment while diving. We saw sting rays and parrot fish, trigger fish and butterfly fish and then, all too soon, it was over.

After the dive we had the formality of the exam and I was done. We celebrated with a couple of Singha, Jill relaxed and stretched after a 2 hour yoga session, and had meal on the beach. We saw Chinese lanterns being sent out to sea with a cheer, it was a great way to finish our time in Koh Tao. In the morning we had our bags packed for Koh Pha Ngan.

Arriving on Koh Tao to stormy skies

Learning the basics in the pool

Still in the pool!

Still very early morning but 2 dives already done!

Jill finding time in her busy scheduel to relax

Leaving Koh Tao . . .

NY in Chiang Mai

George and I arrived back to the hustle and bustle of Bangkok after our relaxing few days on the beach and settled into our hotel in the heart of Chinatown. We spent a couple of days getting to know the city a little better and ventured out of the backpacker haven of Khao San Road, with its endless rows of bars, western restaurants, market stalls and hawkers. Feeling less like tourists, we sampled the local transport systems; the sky train which provides a fantastic aerial view of the city and the MRT subway, and were so impressed. They not only ran on time, but were welcomingly air-conditioned and wonderfully clean, a far cry from the tube! We took in some cultural sites including Jim Thompson’s famous house, which is a beautiful example of a traditional Thai teak house, but with western influences brought over from America, and the magnificent Grand Palace in all its finery. 

Bangkok seems to be a city of extremes and I finally succumbed to travel fatigue by our 3^rd evening there. I think it was the culmination of lots of dirty old men with young Thai ladies, the bars on the Khao San Road which display signs like “very strong cocktails. We never check ID” and my personal favourite, the sign at our hotel informing us that it would cost us an extra 100 Baht to take a Thai lady back to our room. I was very happy to board our night bus heading north to Chiang Mai and relax back in my sleeping bag to watch a couple of films as we escaped from the madness.

Chiang Mai was like a breath of fresh air, a lovely old city surrounded by a moat with a Wat on every street. In our quest to photograph as many of the picturesque buildings as we could, we stumbled on what I can only describe as the Buddhist equivalent of a church fete. We got into the spirit of it, sampling the fresh waffles, browsing the stalls and enjoying the Buddhist monk band play a couple of sets.

It was in Chiang Mai that we celebrated New Year in true Thai style. We had been invited to a pool party by the owners of our guest house. We were slightly concerned that it would be a raucous event, especially as our hut directly overlooked the swimming pool, but we couldn’t have been more wrong. We joined the staff and their friends and family (including a few children in their best party wear) for drinks and nibbles around the balloon-filled pool whilst covers of White Christmas and Santa Claus is Coming to Town were played on the guitar. We stayed for a polite amount of time before excusing ourselves and heading off to the main city gate where celebrations were taking place.  A stage had been set up where various acts were taking place including traditional Thai dancing and performances from a couple of boy bands. We joined in with the locals lighting Chinese lanterns and sending them off into the sky with our wishes for the new year. Before long the sky was full of orange glowing dots, which were only interrupted by the fireworks set off at midnight as everyone cheered.

2011 began for both of us with pure indulgence – George with a freshly cooked waffle and me with a 90 minute herbal thai massage complete with foot scrub the next morning. It was bliss and I floated my way through the rest of New Years’ day!

I took another cooking course whilst in Chiang Mai and learnt how to make a few of my favourite Thai dishes – Pad Thai, Tom Yum soup and of course a traditional Thai curry. I’m sure I’ll be trying out these dishes on some of you when we get back – it will be a south-east Asian feast with our Laos cuisine expertise already established!

With the new year, I was determined to have a new positive attitude towards Bangkok, so when we arrived back in the capital I decided to join the scores of locals in a sunset run around Lumphini Park in the centre of the city. It was just what I needed and I felt alarmingly pleased with myself when I overtook a group of men. Admittedly they were power walking and most of them were over the age of 60, but still, it was a victory!

Our final port of call before heading south to the islands, was the old capital city of Ayutthaya. We took a local train for the vast sum of 15 Baht (30p) for the 2 hour journey out of Bangkok. The journey was reminiscent of our train journeys in Sri Lanka, with food sellers parading up and down the aisles whilst ceiling fans pushed warm air around the carriages and countryside whizzed past the open windows. We decided to explore the area on bikes and spent the day admiring the many ancient palaces and Wats which were dotted around the world heritage town. They reminded me of the temples of Angkor, but on a much smaller scale. We could tell that we had drifted off the main tourist route when at one of the Wats, a Thai lady came over to ask if her elderly mother could have her photo taken with me. I was slightly bemused and even more so when she thrust her baby son at me to hold for another classic photo – definitely one for the family album.

Jim Thompson's house

A familiar site in Chiang Mai

The very rock & roll pool party

NYE lanterns

Ayutthaya

George soaking up the culture in Ayutthaya

One for the family album

Walking in a winter Won-Thailand!

And  so, after 74 days, 36 hotels and guesthouses, 2 boat cabins and 2 night trains, we took two night buses, taking our tally to 5, from Luang Prabang, south via Vientiane and on, across our 3^rd land border and into our 5^th country, Thailand.

With Christmas fast approaching Jill and I needed to get some miles under our belts in order to get to Koh Chang, an island south west of Bangkok, before the fat man headed for our chimney. The first night bus was as winding and bumpy as we expected and we arrived in Vientiane for a short bit of rest before the border crossing into Thailand. Border crossings are always little events in themselves, and this one was no different. After arriving at the bus station and seeing our bus pull up, we were refused entry until all of the locals had made themselves comfortable on board. When we were finally allowed on, with no more seats available, it was standing room only and so we left Laos standing in the aisle of a public bus. We were assured that once across the border we would change bus and all would be fine. There was a familiar chaos that we have begun to recognize and so we were not too stressed by the unfolding events, the same could not be said for the two English lads we were sharing the aisle with who spent the journey dreaming up various worst case scenarios and then convincing themselves that this was the only possible outcome.

The crossing consisted of leaping off the bus which then vanished with all we owned on board, having a man in uniform look with a similar disgust at our passports that you would expect to see from a man inspecting his shoe after skidding in something on a London towpath. He then branded his little stamp with a flourish of bangs and crashes thrust it back at us with a grunt and the universal gesture for ‘I have seen enough, now get out of my sight!’ But we were soon over the border and as promised on a bus with our very own seat. And so with the formality out of the way we pulled off into the warm clear night with Angelina Jolie dubbed into Thai on the TV.

We arrived in Bangkok with the dark of night still present and just a hint of dawn, after a short haggle with various taxi drivers we were off into the Bangkok streets with billboards and 7 elevens flashing past, huge buildings with big brand logos glowing from them. We were in a new place and it felt very different to the previous cities of our trip. As the sun rose above the streets we could see the wealth and impact of ‘the west’. We spent that first day finding our feet in the city, walking the streets and getting our bearings. It’s a city that, like all cities, has many faces and we are only able to see a small number of them on our short stay here. We saw Wats and monks, cross dressers and revellers, homeless and rich, and this was all in the space of a few blocks. And of course we saw the many images of the King, on every street is a photo of the King, and with every Thai flag is a yellow royal flag to stand beside it. They love the king like the Vietnamese love Uncle Ho, the Cambodians love Angkor, the Sri Lankans love cricket and the people of Laos love sleeping in the back of tuk tuks.

After a short introduction to Bangkok we were on a bus for Koh Chang, and a ferry and tuk tuk ride brought us to our Christmas retreat. We were staying at the furthest southerly point on the west side of the island, away from the busier resorts and beaches and with only turquoise sea, white sand, a handful of beach bars and restaurants to occupy us we were forced to sit back and relax. We spent the days leading up to Christmas doing very little and it was great.

Our Christmas day was really relaxing. We exchanged presents, bought in Luang Prabang on a 50,000 kip (£4.50) budget, swam in the sea, read our books, had lunch on the beach with sand between our toes and the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore. We Skyped parents while sipping cold Singha beers and heard the stories of snow in the streets and a beautiful white Christmas morning. Then we headed for Buddha View where we enjoyed our Christmas meal overlooking the ocean. In fact the restaurant sat over the ocean, with glass tables and holes in the floor that you dangled your feet through over the water below. The food and wine were great and although it wasn’t turkey, it did the job just fine. It was an unusual Christmas but an amazing one.

 The next couple of days on Koh Chang were similar to the first, swimming, eating, sunbathing and eating some more. But after 5 days and far too soon it was time to bid farewell to the corner of Koh Chang we had grown to know well and head back to Bangkok.

They do love the King!

Happy Christmas from Koh Chang!

Opening my stocking

Jill and I enjoying Christmas day on the beach

Skypeing the parents with a cold beer close to hand

Jill having another tough day!