Bikini's and Booze Part 2

Gulping down a tambili (king coconut) before the drive ahead to replenish some of those lost salts and water from the night before I gathered my bearings and crawled into the car, everyone crashed out within the first 5 minutes and awoke at 9am to stop for breakfast at a run-down local cade, the rough taste lingering unwantedly in our mouths until lunchtime…

Tuk tuks

On the ramparts

Into the old Galle fort we drove where we unpacked our bags into the lovely house that we’d walked in and out of on so many different occasions over the years. We checked out our bedroom and lay down, the sky was the limit as the seed grew infinitely and burst into flower ‘J GET OUT!’ M’s voice screamed. I hurriedly grabbed my hippie pants, wiping the sweat off my brow and flattening my hair to run out and have a long catch up over the last 6-months of her life in LA.

Famalam

Galle fort was a Portugese creation in 1588 that was later fortified by the Dutch in 17th Century and in/ around it resides a small English/ Dutch community, many of whom are our old-time friends. Where once there were a few little shops, a jewelers, a café and a few restaurants, modernization is slowly taking over and now over 50 jewelry shops alone have opened, the roads teaming with tourists. We walked along the ramparts holding hands, looking over at the calm sea with various boats gliding past and the moans of the mosque ringing over the heads of the little boys playing football and the American family taking photo’s.

<3

We all crammed into two tuk-tuks and made our way to Wajaya, a friends place that was once a basic beach bar and has since been converted into a lovely motel/ restaurant on the beach that’s always busy. We watched the sunset with a beer and a smile, sitting with a group of old Galle-amigos, hearing what adventures everyone else had been having. Before the mozzies got too violent we headed home for a shocking episode of ‘banged up abroad’…

Have you ever heard of the tourists in 1999 that were 'butchered' in Uganda?(http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/289196.stm) It’s basically about a group of tourists who were on safari in East Africa where rebel Hutu’s raided their campsites in their attempt to get revenge at having lost the war 5 years prior. The story’s re-enacted on the program while being narrated by one survivor who describes the horrors of seeing members of their group being taken off and hacked to death with machete’s, having to walk miles through this forest with no idea what the end result was going to be (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ2O_LwykwY), besides making East Africa wrongly seem a bit savage, it’s a really good watch.

Omnomnom

Post-Dive

So I counted myself lucky to be safe and protected as our heads hit the pillow and we opened our eyes to the sunlight, feeling the first of many beads of sweat on my forehead. Our days in Galle were limited but luckily, in Sri Lanka everything moves so slowly that you somehow manage to fit it all in, what’s the point in rushing when you’re on holiday? That afternoon we went to the Kingfisher, another little place that used to be a shack on the beach and after renovation was now the top place to eat in Unawatuna, I couldn’t believe it. The new highway that had been built turned the 3 hour journey to Galle/ Una into a 45 minute one, so people from Colombo would come up for just the afternoon to have a bit of beach-time before returning home, meaning everywhere was always packed. To escape the crowds we were invited over to Butt farm, M’s new place on the paddy fields. Surrounded by tropical trees, the chirps of crickets and a sky filled with an array of pink, orange and blue streaks; we sipped on champagne and passed around bowls of fresh green salads, sundried tomato pasta and mango salsa accompanied by a beautiful white fish. Camera’s came out as we went through the photo’s that gave credit to all our stories. One of J.E’s photos was of a mammoth python that had terrorized the surrounding paddy fields for years, eating dogs and freaking out all the locals until one day the builders working on the house we were eating in, spotted it coming into the garden, captured it and left it in the empty chicken house – a nice surprise for J.E when she got home, tropical problems!

Roti Stop

A 55ft snake found in the forests of Malaysia
(The guy in the cage died of a heart attack shortly after
discovering it!)

The next morning after a fruity breakfast mum left, it’s always tough saying bye to family when you live abroad, instead of seeing them in a couple of weeks you’ve got to say bye for half a year. Over time I’m sure that will get easier but after falling back into the mode of ‘being the child’ it pulls on a few heartstrings. So she drove off and the boys and I spent the day at Wajaya, playing with the dog-bitten Frisbee and frolicking in the turquoise ocean with the deceivingly strong current. It was another goodbye when dad and my little brother left, tears streaming as I waved them off and clung on to J who at least was still here.

We’d been invited over to dinner that night at I’s and egos ran high as we all pitched in to cook the risotto, chicken and salad with a few home grown fumes to work up an appetite in-between. The others went off and J and I fell asleep with the TV showing Gordon Ramsey eating a snake heart in Vietnam, needless to say I had bizarre dreams that night.

I always find that no matter how much time I give myself in the morning, I always end up running out the door last minute as stressed as can be. This time was no different; we were heading up to my godmothers to stay in Jasmine cottage closer to Una. Gluten-free crepes at Crepeology, a quick coffee and a whole lotta powder… In my rushed attempt to find a present for my godmother I opened a tester ‘dry body scrub’ and tipped it towards my nose spilling all $20 worth on my face, my already-streaming nose went crazy and the sneezing fit began, J burst out laughing and the guy behind the till incessantly repeated ‘was that a tester? Was that a tester??’ Luckily it was, so he was happy, there was no charge and for the rest of the day I smelt like cinnamon, every cloud has a silver lining right…

A fisherman amongst the stilts

Despite the rush, we made it to our destination just as F was getting off the bus, off to the cottage we drove, curry for lunch, boogie boarding some mammoth waves, shower and a yummy dinner of jumbo prawns and fried rice at the ‘Blue Crab’. The next few days were very active, body rash from surfing, a tan from boogie boarding, a cough from too much shisha, goggle marks from diving and a full belly from lots of yummy food. We discovered that teh tarik in Malaysia is the same as ‘yard tea’ in Sri Lanka, a milky sugary concoction that’s the perfect energy boost mid-afternoon. I found out that the reason they like their tea so sweet, is because fresh milk didn’t used to exist but condensed milk did, hence the intense sweetness and the reason they use it in their coffee in Vietnam/ Cambodia/ South East Asia! While we were having the tea conversation at this Thai restaurant on the beach, something lead on to the idea of ‘race’ - do you know what the stats are to maintain a race? You have to have 2.2 kids minimum and if you look at the population stats in countries in the west now, it’s not plausible for the ‘white’ race to survive – interesting huh? I reckon one day with all this mix and matching we’ll all end up the same color, I mean the mixing’s already happening with the majority of people I know, including myself.

 That night with hungry eyes G, J and I munched our way through every flavor of chocolate that the box of galaxies had to offer, until we could munch no more and clutched our tummy’s in bed with a moan. The next night, possible due to our already-expanded stomachs, within the space of a few hours we managed roti, curries, ice cream and somehow a huge Mexican meal at ‘Fortelasia’ a fantastic place to eat in the fort if anyone’s looking for one.

On our last day on the beach we crammed in a few waves to work off the meal the night before, packed up and lay on our bags waiting for the van to pick us up so that we could make it to our appointment with the astrologer, time was ticking and when the ‘van’ finally arrived it turned out to be a car that didn’t have enough space for J and I, so we grabbed our backpacks and ran to get tuk-tuk to the bus station, jumping on the first bus we saw we arrived in Colombo 45 minutes later, jumped into another tuk tuk and yes! We arrived 10 minutes before our appointment, I won’t go into details but it was an interesting session that began with ‘you two are very compatible for marriage’ gulp! This astrologer was well known for predicting years before the disaster, that on the 26^th December 2004 a third of the population would be wiped out – and sure enough, the tsunami happened. During the reading he’d refer constantly to numbers and charts and dusty old books – he was an interesting man indeed and we came away with a few seeds of knowledge.

The dog that ate the cat-fish.

Waiting for our van

There were only 2 nights left! What was happening? We got into another tuk, holding onto the edge of my seat as I anticipated a crash at any moment. We weaved between the wobbly buses, breathing in the sweet perfume of the Mercedes exhaust pipe in front of us, we drove in the opposite direction to the traffic on a one way road and made a last violent swerve as I breathed a sigh of relief at having arrived home safe and in one piece.

Our last affordable classy dinner for a while was at the Dutch Hospital that contains a boulevard of cafes and restaurants, walking back along the green by the seaside we crashed out for our last night together in SL.

Our last day was spent indulging in great food, cakes and coffee with two of my favourite people in the world, a quick haircut and to top it all off… flu L J. had a few hours before the taxi to the airport was arriving and he spent it curled up in bed with hot and cold shivers and a mug of herbal tea, the storm outside was the appropriate soundtrack for the scene. I waved him off, making sure he had a few paracetemol and tissues for the long journey, it sucks to be sick on an airplane…

Last day in Colombo

Now he’s probably in the air, about to touch down for his stop-over in Dubai as I’m about to board my flight. Soon our adventures shall begin in England but I must savour the last few minutes before it all turns into another memory. I’ll close my eyes tonight and feel Ulpotha mud between by toes, hear the sound of the drums, taste the hot coconut sambal, smell the distinct curry leaf and look back in wonder at the magic of Ceylon.

Recipe of the day: Grilled tilapia with mango salsa
http://allrecipes.com/recipe/grilled-tilapia-with-mango-salsa/

Living in a dream (Part 2)

Eden

The Black moon party (run by the Thai Mafia) was taking place beside us, and the 5000 people that were expected, hadn't arrived by the witching hour. It was $20 to get in and the music, was pretty shit. We were sitting on the beach watching the dried palm leaves and dead branches turn into roaring orange flames, with the distant lightening storm over Koh Samui adding the odd flash. I'd been given a tip to head to Eden by a fellow traveller who'd escaped the full moon party in search of something a little different, so we spent that $20 on transport to and from the party, which involved a tuk tuk to the other beach and a 10 minute boat ride. Our tuk-tuk was full of drunk Poles that were leaving the Black Moon party in search of something cheaper, and after a slurred, excited conversation, J and I hopped on a boat in the dark of the night, to find solace. The boat pushed out into the blackness, and just for our amusement, the engine decided not to work. So we waited as the boatman lunged his anchor millimetres away from our heads, trying to hold on to some form of positivity as I let my head fall backwards and take in the glorious expanse of stars above us. 'If you see a shooting star tonight, everything's going to look up' is what I kept saying to myself. 5 minutes later, the engine was working (due to the help of his fellow boatmen) and not 1 but 3 shooting stars orbited through the night sky, I smiled to myself as the sound of the engine roared above all thoughts, tonight was going to be amazing. The boat arrived in a secret cove, and we started walking along the sand towards the giant rocks, the rickety bridge, jazzy-house-techno beats (played by the incredible resident DJ's), costumes, water, gum, magic balls and trippers. Police were banned from the beach so 'anything was possible' with a bit of moolah and a good attitude, the party went on till 12pm the following day, and everyone was still dancing like no one cared at 11am - with a quick break to watch the sunrise together. J and I lay on shark-rock looking at the clouds blow across the sky as it changed colour from black to yellowy blue. We spotted animals and objects in the clouds and another thought came to me. When I was younger I used to believe each animal you spotted was from the spirit of the animal that had died. So to my excited inner-child, I've now learnt how that can be explained, scientifically (because that's what gets credit now, right). When an animal dies it's recycled back into the earth as it's body deteriorates and it becomes part of the soil again, which in turn feeds the growth of new seeds, that turns into various plants; their moisture evaporates and rises, due to cohesion these evaporated particles all condense as they get denser with atmospheric pressure and they form clouds (excited squeel) which turns into rain, that waters the plants, that animals drink and the cycle continues.. As the temperature rose that morning and the energy wore off, we left our new French friends, with the gift of a pheasant feather in my hair, a drunk Aussie falling off the side of the boat and a grimy couple with their eyes rolling, still causing glares on the dance floor. That day was named zombie-day as it always is, we showed our faces spontaneously to buy food at the local market, spotting the other zombies from the night before and crashing out as soon as sunset wiped the light away. 

The morning after our all-nighter

We spent the next day exploring the island. The sea at night was deceiving,  as by day it was barely visible and took a good few hundred metres to reach (over the coral reef), so we went in search of a more accessible sea and hopefully an idyllic guest house to accompany it. Riding up and down the hilly terrain, looking at guest houses, checking out bars and dive shops, swimming in the ocean and seeing familiar faces, we returned that evening to Sea Love bungalows. The room slowly began to spin uncontrollably, with my eyes open and shut, until something (dinner) gave way, all over the plants next to our balcony :s. 

Hat Yai, just before we realized what time it was..

We learnt that Koh Phangan has long been where the heart of the Thai King lies. A spiritual hub that's been partly taken over by the full mooners but still retains it's beauty. Haadrin beach, the host of the notorious FMParty, has a different vibe, and neon shirts that read 'drugs saved my life' and 'let's get f*cked' litter the shops along the sand. Horny dogs ran around humping whatever they could see, the difference between teenage boys and dogs suddenly seeming less vast..
That day was pure adrenaline, for the second time round. Breakfast, tickets to Koh Tao, room paid for, clothes packed, lunch, trek. It was only $7 to get to Eden by boat, but there was supposedly a path that lead through the jungle to the other side of the beach where Eden was located. We'd only heard one story so far about that trek, a guy had done it at the last moon party, and was found where he'd begun, having made no progress, covered in scratches and armed with one lighter. He'd sat on a giant rock all night, staying elevated from the floor that crawled with snakes and insects before he managed to find his way back in the morning when daylight came. The story didn't put us off trying, and in an effort to prove everyone wrong, we set off, with 1 hour of daylight left, a head torch, clothes for that night and a strong sense of willpower. The first few locals we asked for directions all laughed 'it's hard man, it's really hard' was the general response we got - but we set off anyway. The first 15 minutes were spent heading in the wrong direction, and when J asked a group of local lads for help, he ran back shouting 'he's got a knife' - deja vu?

Koh Phangan

So we scrambled back down the hills we'd just walked up, and began again, 45 minutes till darkness fell. The path was tough, but manageable, we followed the water pipes knowing that if someone had built these, they had to lead to a way out. We ended up at a small, concrete bridge that lead nowhere. Via trial and error we tested every possible path, and with the light fading and our water volume decreasing, panic began to rise. We decided, that no matter what, we had to keep moving, the millions of mosquitoes could no longer get to us, because of the dense jungle that left them with no room to fly. The water pipes were gone, the floor was crawling with tropical tings, we had no clue what direction the sea was and the only visible sign was a patch of sky, to tell us what time it was. J kept his cool and put on the head torch, my breath started quickening as I asked our surroundings for help and looked at the giant rocks in front of us. My plan would've been to somehow climb up a rock (with huge drops on either side of it if you fell), and scream for help, or jump into the water and swim to land, wherever that was. J was contemplating spending the night in the Jungle, and working out how much water we had left, so my plan went out the window. I felt a drip of water, and before we knew it, the rain began to POUR. Hanging onto branches, like Tarzan and Jane we swung, slid and ran through that jungle, in whatever clear space we could find, following the dim light from the headtorch. At last, after 3 hours, we spotted a plastic bottle, a sign of civilization! We followed the bottle and slid down the face of the mountain, landing on a dirt road - whaaaaat.

Crazy roti man

Nearby was a wooden house, we knocked on the door, drenched in rain, trying to keep anything in the bag that was'breakable' dry, by wrapping it in my half drenched sarong. A group of men came out, a look of sympathy evident on their sun kissed faces. We asked where we were, 'Haadrin' they replied. That definitely wasn't possible, we hadn't just walked in a loop - that was where we'd started. We soon realized we'd been asking for directions to the wrong beach, the entire time. 'Eden?' J. asked with arched eyebrows as we held on to the tiniest bit of hope, 'oh just over there!' they pointed to the other side of the beach. We were amazed and still shaking from our 3.5 hour adrenaline rush, we walked into the nearest restaurant that was screening the movie 'couples retreat' on a projector. We jumped into the sea, shivering from the cold but washing all the grime, insect bites, scratches and jungle off of us. We sat down with wide eyes, still in disbelief at being in a completely civilized setting where everyone was calmly eating their dinner. As we sat down, the scene that played in front of us made our mouths hang and our eyes bulge even more. The couples in the movie were on a holiday together and had all just gotten lost in the jungle, only to stumble across an amazing party where everyone was reunited, but get this, the party, was called 'Eden' - talk about synchronicity. We raved our well-deserved night away and I happened to bump into a mate from my yoga retreat who lived around the corner, and a very old friend who I hadn't seen in 6 years since high school in Sri Lanka - strange coincidences made that night incredible, and our story was appreciated by all who knew the land. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlNzGC49-jg  was the song that came on at 7am as everyone's dirty side emerged. The energy began to lapse so we made our way over to bamboo hut for a morning ice coffee, coconuts and tea with my old friend from high school. I looked out over the rocks with the naturally carved faces all over it, feeling a tinge of deja-vu, I'd been in that exact spot about 6 years ago with my family, how times had changed.

Eden

We had skipped on accommodation that night in favour of dancing, but the lovely manager gave us back our room for a shower and a chill-out, before out boat to Koh Tao left at 12pm. Being our usual selves, we were the last ones on the boat, with -1 minute to spare - running along the deck, with our backpacks on, trying to stop our eyes from closing and craving a glass of water, as the boat driver screamed that they were leaving, we somehow made it. I closed my eyes for a second and we were in Koh Tao, with tuk tuk drivers all screaming down our necks 'TAXI! TUK TUK! WHERE YOU GO!? I TAKE YOU!' Oh godd. 

Right after our last dive!

We walked through the crowds and sat down to eat our first meal, at about 3pm. Our free pick-up arrived on time and we were whisked off to our sterile room in the middle of a little village, close to DJL diving centre, where I spent the next 3 days getting qualified to dive. Koh Tao is the cheapest place in the world for diving, hence why a million dive shops litter the area, but once you're away and in that underwater world, listening to the rhythm of your breath, watching the bubbles from other people's regulators below you race up to the surface, turning into silver plates with the water pressure. It's like you're on the moon with no gravity, floating up, down, hovering above the surface to watch the symbiosis between a crab and it's guard-fish, the beautiful coral gardens, the odd sting ray and shooing away the annoying blue fish that nibble at any cuts or dead skin. The weather was a means to an end, we were caught up in a week-long storm, but as a first diving experience, it didn't really matter as the excitement trumped all other emotion (after the cringey 80's diving video had passed through our system). It did make J's life slightly harder, staying entertained on land. But when I finished my days work, we'd drive up to 'high bar' that looked out over the island and the sea, or play backgammon at a sweet local cafe, or light candles and read in the room. We walked through stumbling, drunk teens with red eyes, to get to the roti stall where a mad-man flipped around his rotis. He moved with precision, flare and a touch of violence, causing everyone within a 2m radius to take a step back. That's one of the things I can appreciate most about SEAsia, it may not be the most developed region in the world but the little things are done to perfection and with such admirable skill.


Suddenly, like a slap in the face, the last day had arrived. We somehow had to cram in 3 dives, as the previous day, my diving buddy's hungover dad had passed out overboard, meaning a crew of about 50 divers had to leave the site early. So we soaked up every minute that we had, exploring all the cracks and crevices of Mango Bay, Koh Tao for hours. I watched a parrot fish rip apart a sea urchin, hearing the crunch of it's spikes as the fish ruthlessly ate away - it was no different to watching a dog rip apart a piece of meat.. fascinating. We arrived back, paid for our room,, collected our passports, inhaled our last delicious Thai meal and jumped on our sleeper boat for our 35+ hour journey home. All the beds were lined up next to each other, and just as my eyes began to droop, a shriek from a French woman nearby made us all jump. A dead gecko had fallen onto her shoulder, leaving a nice yellow smear on her T.Shirt and stinking out our area until the sea breeze blew it away. A live alarm clock bellowed 'everyone get off! We're here!' 6 hours later, so we wiped the sleepy dust from our eyes, and headed to the bus station to wait for our bus to Hat Yai. Into a mini van we squeezed, picking up various people that had all been on our sleeper boat (and scammed into being driven to the 'correct bus station' when we hadn't paid a thing). With not enough sleep, J and I rowed over my bladder control as tears were shed and hair was ripped out.. in the least violent way possible, so we kissed and made up and arrive in Hat Yai. 

Sleeper boat

Hat Yai is a maze, a gridded city where I'm sure everything was designed to look the same. We were given one hour, so we headed off to wander the town, making sure we had a landmark to return to (the 7-11 on the corner..) An hour later, we're running around like headless chickens, asking everyone 'Is there more than one 7-11??' and getting a laugh in response, followed by a little nod of the head 'yes, only one'. So we circled this one 7-11, sure that it wasn't the right one but going by the word of the locals. 30 minutes later, we'd jumped into a tuk-tuk and instructed him to drive us around to every 7-11 he knew, turning each corner to see a new one, much to our frustration. Soon enough we spotted the right one and ran into the travel agent with a look of total hopelessness, preparing to argue our case. Much to our surprise, we got the immediate response of 'You got lost? Don't worry we've booked you another bus for 3.30' phew, I guess we weren't the only ones who'd done it... 

Nasi Kandar in Penang :)

We wandered around talking and playing backgammon to kill time, before being put on a bus loaded with a family from Indonesia who were all wearing matching T.Shirts and excited to share their stories and hear ours. We made it through immigration, had a little snooze, played a bit of wordmole and arrived in Georgetown, Penang for dinner. Nasi Kandar! Roti Cannai! mmm, it was good to be back, and the hospitality was more than we'd experienced in a while. We filled our tummys and wondered back to the bus, half an hour early. We weren't going to take our chances. We hopped on the freezing cold sleeper bus, and passed out until arrival in Kuala Lumpur. J told the taxi driver his address and we rode along familiar roads, passing the twin towers, the billboards and the Nasi Kandars. Hopping over the fence wasn't an option this time as J's new dog righteously barked at the strangers with backpacks until his parents came to the door. We shared a few stories and laughs and crashed out in a luxurious bed, with hot water in the shower and clean sheets. Wow. We're back, and I can't help feeling that the last 6 months was all a dream..

(A little verse of summer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkDDRdKaN8o)