Part seven of seven: San Francisco, Japan, & Thailand (July 2013)

koh samui: a short story about a tuk-tuk, a taxi, a train, a bus, a boat, a walk and a plane

A plain clothed Bangkokian policeman asks if we need help. "We're looking for the train station," we say in unison. The man convincingly identifies himself as police and tells us to go to a travel agent. He hails a tuk-tuk, gives the driver firm directions, and we're off. Oh please don't let this be a Thai special. Relieved to arrive at a travel agency without any "sponsor" stops, we purchase the "last tickets" for the night train from Bangkok to a town, Surat Thani, that will get us closer to the island. And, we get the tourist discount...ahhh, the Thai special appears after all. I hand over my credit card knowing full well that we are paying several hundred more baht than the tickets cost, but it is a matter of dollars. On principle I didn't like it, but I suppose it's the price to pay for booking the train the day of travel.  

It will take thirty minutes to print the tickets, so we have to return there.  Supposedly this ticket agency is near the train station. We have exactly two hours to go to the tailor for another fitting, get to the hotel, get our bags, return for the tickets, and find the train station. The tuk-tuk driver excitedly agrees to transport us all over the place for pennies. When we get to the tailor, the tuk-tuk driver waits. He has already proven to be a real menace, and it's a wonder that we have survived thus far. He is wanton and careless, weaving through traffic more dangerously than others. The music blasts --- he likes American rap. (I mean, so do we but...) He puts on his shades and putters that tuk-tuk like it's a Ferrari.

Exiting the tailor shop, the driver grins and says that he is taking us to his "sponsor" and refuses any other stops until we agree. The situation was actually pretty tense. The tuk-tuk driver was sitting quite relaxed, sure that we were at his mercy. But the time is ticking and we have but seventy-five minutes until we are supposed to depart. So, we explain that we have no intention of buying anything from his sponsor and we won't go; he doesn't care. The tuk-tuk does not move.  Deezy briefly tries to reason with the guy without luck. I hop out of the little cab and stand on the sidewalk.  Thus ends the short story about a tuk-tuk.

Deezy jumps out and we hail a taxi. At the hotel, we are in and out. Bags in hand, the taxi takes us....where? Ha, funny, we don't know where the travel agency is.  The policeman helped us and the crooked tuk-tuk driver had our map. We kind of remember the spot. Deezy takes out another map and circles the area we believe we had been. I look to my right. I look to my left. Car engines. We are surrounded by car engines. Why did we let the taxi drop us off here? Apparently, we are in the car repair district of Bangkok. Nothing looks familiar. I pretty much guarantee that an American has never, ever set foot in this part of town. Ever.

Well, hello everyone staring at us. How can I help you? We are carrying all our luggage and pacing the street to find something that looks familiar. A man, around our age, emerges from behind a stack of metal car parts. In broken English he asks if he can help. I explain our predicament. Just then, I remember that I have the receipt from the tickets. The man pulls out his cell phone and calls both numbers.  He points us towards a side street two blocks away. I thank him profusely. And there's the short story about a taxi.

Geesh! We never would have found this travel agency. It looks different, but it's the place. Tickets in hand, another taxi takes us to the train station. We hop on just in time and settle into our space. We are the only tourists in our car. Families carry boxes of things, looking as though they are relocating. Dinner is ordered, but we are the last in the car to be served. Random women selling homemade food jump on and off the train. The people watching is splendid. The train is pleasant and busy. Children are running up and down the aisle. Bugs are finding their comfy place. Water from the air conditioning is drizzling to the floor.

If you've ever taken the 2nd or 3rd class European night train, the Thai train is far less glamorous. It is, however, comfortable and the staff are courteous and helpful.  The seats fold down into a bed. Fluffy pillows and warm blankets are on each bunk.  The second bed unfolds from above. Curtains are drawn for privacy, but there is nothing holding them together. Deezy looks at me and decisively says, "We're both sleeping down here. The bags will go up there." It's decided. Sooooo...the crazy Americans are sleeping together on the bottom bunk. Nobody else is.  

There are kids swinging, literally swinging, between bunks and parents in and out adjusting their things and redirecting their children. In our "cabin," I am smushed between Deezy and the window. I find a position and fall asleep. Deezy basically keeps one eye open all night but catches some zzzzz. At 4 AM, we arrive in Surat Thani. It's just before dawn. The air is cool and there is a grand showing of chaos on the train. Passengers have but moments to get off at their station. Fortunately, we were both awake before the car attendant announced the stop. Groggy but ready, we depart from the train after an exhausting twelve hour, overnight ride.  See --- a short story about a train.

This next part is thrilling. Really. Quite. Thrilling. We wait. Yup...we wait. And, we wait at some dumpy restaurant that holds the passengers of the train hostage while awaiting arrival of a bus. Well...arrival of several different buses which causes complete mass confusion over who goes where. There are two cafes. It's raining.  It's cold. Seats are sparse but we grab one. Most of the other passengers, who are Europeans, order coffee and breakfast. We go to the 7-11 and get stuff. Much cheaper, more satisfying, and to-go. Then we return and sit and wait. We wait a long time. A really long time. Remember: our train arrived at 4 AM. It's now 7:30 AM.  

Everyone is getting antsy. Deezy and I are about to lose it. I have walked around the neighborhood of the town we are in, and there is nothing going on. Nobody is even outside so I can't practice my Thai language. It's raining, so we don't pull out our books to read because our luggage is in the rain. Then, off in the distance we hear it. The loud, obnoxious humming of a bus motor. It turns around the corner.  Then another comes. And another. YES! Let's get the hell outta here! Eager travelers are approaching the buses and inquiring about the destination. As it turns out, two buses are going to the ferry and the others go to other points of interest around there...I'm not sure what that could be. Sure that one of the buses is ours, I stand up and gather my things. And then I wait. It's now 8 AM.  

Four hours have passed. I'm tired, cold, and hungry. I quickly learn that our bus hasn't arrived. Finally at 8:30 AM, our bus arrives. Luxury it ain't, but it was going to get us to the ferry. The bus was packed...squeezed in like sardines. The rain has stopped and the heat and humidity have set in. The air on the bus has two settings: stifling or freezing. We opt for freezing even though I hate being cold. Sooo...an hour and a quarter later, we arrive at the ferry parking lot. From there, we take a brief truck ride to the ferry. WOW...it only took seventeen and a half hours to get to the ferry. This island better be worth it. The short story about a bus is now done.

At the dock, the morning fog is still weighing heavy on the vegetation and water. It looks like it might rain, but it doesn't. In fact, the sky clears to a beautiful blue and the water, reflecting the flawless blue hue, turns a deep turquoise. The ferry is the equivalent of public transportation by water. There are a few European tourists on board, but most of the folks are Thai. There are boxes, packages, and volumes of crates that the Thai are moving from land to the island. The ferry may also serve as a fishing boat. It has the look and smell of one. The bathrooms are wide open, and the men are not shy about using them. I saw no women use the facilities. Imagine that!

There are a group of older women sitting in front of us. The Thai language is as unique sounding as its alphabet. I imagine the dialogue they are having with each other. They burst into laughter. A man in their group glances their way in disapproval. Was it something they said? Either way, the women continue feigning no knowledge of the stern glare. I crack a smile. Good for them! Let them have their fun.

Livestock are adding to the noise that it now heightening. A crescendo of racket suddenly occurs as a baby cries and its siblings alert their mother. The boat rocks.  A lot. The livestock are still contributing to the commotion on the vessel. The scent of urine now fills the cabin. The gregarious women in front of me are eating a pungent snack. I love the scene. I love the people watching. But I'm exhausted and on sensory overload. The odor and noise start to hammer me. I get motion sickness easily and the ferry is not forgiving. Before I get sick, I decide to sleep. My bag makes a perfect pillow on my lap. I lean forward and fall asleep. The ferry arrives at the dock on Koh Samui about an hour after departure. Voilà! A very short story about a ferry.

We have been traveling for a long time now. All of the passengers disperse so quickly that it seems like nobody was on the ferry. For a major Thai island, the port is strikingly unimpressive. There are but a few taxis sprinkled throughout the entrance and parking lot. A small collection of stores look closed. It's really, really quiet.  I approach a cab for a ride to the hotel. "Four hundred baht," he says.  "Two hundred," I retort. He shakes his head no. "Four hundred," he mutters casually with his arms crossed and leaning on the hood of his taxi. I walk away and Deezy is right behind me. I approach the next one. The same exchange happens. I then suggest a meter. None of the drivers will use a meter. All are charging 400 baht.

I'm pretty sure that the hotel is not too far, so we stop at a tree and I suggest that we walk. Deezy asks me if I know where it is. I tell him that I had looked at the map before we left and knew that it was northwest on the island and we're probably a mile or so from it. A few taxi drivers are now approaching us.  Stubbornly, I tell them that we're walking, not negotiating. They look at me like I'm crazy. And just like that, we take off.  

At the entrance to the ferry terminal, there is a 7-11 on the corner. Deezy suggests that we ask for directions or try to get a map. No luck with either. I assure him that I know where the hotel is located. Mind you, I never navigate when we travel and my map reading skills are not the sharpest. But, I'm confident. I read that map so I could pick a great hotel. I could feel it in my bones. We're on the right track. We leave the convenience store and begin our hike...with our luggage...after almost twenty hours of traveling.  

The road is narrow and surrounded by an overgrowth of trees and bushes. Lots of animals are out during the day. Only a few cars pass. "Are you sure...," Deezy begins. I look him dead in the eye, "I'm absolutely sure!" The heat is bearing down on us. We're sweating. Not a oh-it's-New-England-and-we're-hot kind of sweat.  It's more like we're-in-the-jungle-and-carrying-heavy-loads-on-our-back kind of sweat. Our energy levels are good and we continue on. There is a fork in the road.  We stay with the main road. I think we're almost there, although there is nothing to indicate that my instinct is correct. About thirty minutes into the walk, we briefly discuss the options in case I'm wrong. I ask that we walk fifteen minutes more, and Deezy agrees.

After five minutes, we come to an area with a closed roadside restaurant and a pay phone. I try to call the hotel, but I can't figure out how to make the call. Genius! Maybe the phone doesn't work. Just ten more minutes and we'll have to turn around. A few more steps and there's a bend in the road. And right at the bend is...our hotel, thank you very much! We walk in the door and the sweat is pouring off of us. The front desk gets us some juice and cold towels after we explain that we had walked. She was impressed because of the amount of luggage we had...and no map. A short story about a long walk!

The hotel is gorgeous with an ocean view and tasteful decor. Our room is an elevated semi-detached cabin overlooking a long and narrow pool. The accommodations are perfect! Fresh fruits and water await us on the deck's table. I immediately throw my things in a closet, get my bathing suit, and head to the beach. (Deezy joins me later.) Wading through the water, I am alone. People are off in the distance, but the only noise I hear is the sound of waves crashing and air passing through the palm trees. Pretty close to paradise. One moment I lie in the sun, the next I cool down in the water. I go through this ritual several times. The sun is beating down on me but I don't care. The ocean is refreshing and the breeze is pleasant. I could stay here forever...

But after we have get familiar with our surroundings, we decide to explore the island. The hotel offers free bikes to its guests. It's a little bit later in the afternoon, but we're determined to make it to the other side and back before nightfall. We quickly learn that our hotel is on the quiet part of the island. We hit the downtown and there is a maze of restaurants, hotels, shops, schools, and temples. The light is bright and the beats from bass music can be heard even when we get distant from it. We pass a Thai prison. Thai prisons are notoriously brutal and Locked Up Abroad (NatGeo) confirmed it for me. So, we do our best to behave.  

The island is much bigger than we thought. It takes us about two and a half hours to get to the other side. The roads are crazy. Cars are flying by, as are tuk-tuks and mopeds. We find all sorts of interesting shops and places and decide to return when we can spend more time. The sun is setting and we start back toward the hotel. Soon it's pitch dark, and if you remember I suck at riding a bike relatively speaking of course. The only light on the road are random street lights every several hundred feet. The racing cars and mopeds offer some illumination just in time for them to avoid hitting us. I'm a little freaked out. We're pedaling as fast as we can. Deezy advances ahead of me. I can't see him or anything even a few inches in front of me. No need to panic, I assure myself. A shadow lies ahead. It's Deezy.  He didn't realize that I had fallen so far behind.

We advance closer to the area in which the hotel is located. Nothing looks familiar until we get to an auto dealership. It's kind of weird. It's huge. On an island. In Thailand. Anyways, we make it back safely and decide to go to dinner at a restaurant nearby. The bikes are returned and we walk - in the complete blackness of night - to the dining spot. There is a Thai restaurant on one side and pizza on the other. We order Thai food, which surprised me because Deezy would almost always opt for pizza. The prices are very fair and the portions are huge. The host asks us how many people we're feeding....ummmm, just two.  Needless to say, we barely made a dent in the food but enjoyed our little dinner picnic on the terrace of our room.  

Three nights/two days on the island. It's all we had planned. Over our Thai feast, we decide that we cannot endure the torture of the night train again. Plus, we want to spend more time exploring the island. We schedule a flight and extend our stay for one more night. Perfect! Sleep comes easily and we rest well. Sunrise comes quickly. It's now the next morning. We're up and ready really early. Today, we go sea kayaking and visit an island lagoon and park. The pick-up is at the hotel promptly at 6:15 AM and we are the last pick up. That means we don't have to drive the entire island picking up other folks. At the boat, we discover that we are one of three English-speaking couples. The other American couple on their honeymoon, and the new groom excitedly tells me about their wedding and travels.  They're very sweet. The other couple are Brits - a little standoffish and not at all interested in talking. Everyone else is German. We learn that Thailand, Koh Samui in particular, is a hot spot for Germans.  Zum Wohl!  

The day is amazing. The sky is blue, the weather is warm, the breeze is refreshing.  Dolphins and whales leap out of the Indian Ocean. Sailboats drift in along the rock-eroded, tree-filled miniature islands. All preparations for kayaking and  swimming have been made, and we eagerly await arrival at the location.

The day is perfect. The kayaking and sea swimming is exactly how I had envisioned it. The water is as warm as a bath. The color is a deep, clear turquoise. We both jump in to swim from the boat. A warning has been given about sharp coral, and one woman swimming about a hundred feet from us slices open her foot on a sharp rock. Deezy and I are careful and advance towards the underside of a rock formation. Huge rock islands litter the ocean. The salt water has eroded them leaving an overhang of sorts. In the one near us, I notice that there is a hole in the rock. From in the water under the hole, I can see directly up. I can't resist but swim back to the boat to get my camera.  

Everyone is shocked when, without a life jacket or protective gear for my semi-pro digital camera, I plunge into the water and swim to the hole. "I'm not buying you another one," Deezy says of the gift he had gotten me for my birthday. "I'll be careful. I'm a good swimmer," I retort. Snap, snap, snap. I take a bunch of pictures and then return to the boat. Shortly thereafter, we set out in the kayak. The depth of the water is shallow in many areas. Stand-up-in-the-middle-of-the-ocean-shallow. Anyone who knows me knows that I l-o-v-e to kayak. Turning to Deezy I say, "I wish we were alone out here like at home." Kayaking under the rocks and in between the tiny islands is an experience I'll never forget; I wish we had the whole day. After an hour, the kayak tour is complete. Next stop is a lagoon and national park in the the middle of the ocean.

At the lagoon, we hike up a healthy three hundred steep stairs to get to the observation deck. Mind you, this is not a particularly skilled, engineered stairway.  I see at least three people wipe out on the way up and down. The view from the top was well worth the climb. There was a 360º panoramic view of the ocean, lagoon, and national park. From there, I can see scores of islands and the turquoise water deepen in hue. Fortunately, we are able to remain there for over an hour, and the kayaks are given out first come, first serve. We jump in one and paddle away partly on our own to a stop where the boat will pick us up. The day has been a true success. We get back to the hotel just after dusk and go out.

Tonight we have pizza. The guy working there admits that he's never met an American. Apparently, so few come to Thailand because of the distance. He's so excited to talk with us and try his English; it's pretty good! His obsession with American cinema becomes apparent quickly. This young man has seen more American movies and knows of more directors than Deezy and I combined. Quite impressive! The pizza takes a good amount of time cook, so we're talking about Thailand, the U.S., and traveling. Just then, an Italian woman sitting at a table in the open air restaurant starts to speak in a playfully aggressive voice. In Italian, she is asking about the progress of her pizzas. The restaurant workers don't understand her. Her pizzas are finally delivered to her, but she isn't done saying her piece. Without warning, she stares at me and asks in Italian, "Parli Italiano?"  I shake my head no, I don't speak Italian. She says, "So che parli italiano. Mi hai appena riposte." I want to tell her that I answered her because she asked a question, but I really can't speak all that well. Her hands are waving through the air and now she is laughing. She comes closer to me and tells me that she knows that I understand her. I do. I just can't really talk back. So with a wink of the eye to me, she leaves with her pizza.  

Deezy pokes me and says, "Why didn't you talk with her?" The restaurant guy looks at me totally confused. "It just didn't come to me like it did in Italy," I honestly answered. (When we were in Italy in 2012, I spontaneously began speaking Italian with some Italians at the train station. I have no idea how or why...I just understood and spoke. Deezy mind was blown, as was mine!!! Well, in fairness, I speak Spanish - falsas amigas - and my grandfather was teaching my sister and me Italian before he died when I was a child.) Moments later, our pizzas are done and leave our gracious host to tend a vacant bar. The pizza is pretty good, even in American standards. It's now late and we have a leisurely day ahead of us tomorrow. Sitting out on the deck, I listen to the waves from the ocean and the breeze through the palms.  

The private beach area feels like it’s just ours. There are few guests at the hotel and we barely see anyone. Resting under the palm trees, Deezy and I laze part of the day away on the sand and in the surf. The pool is equally refreshing, and we pop in before going back to the room. The day has been the first that we are not doing anything in particular, except for a Muay Thai class in the afternoon.  

The class is two hours. I had researched a place to go prior to arriving on the island because Deezy has been studying MMA/martial arts for a bit of time. Instead of taking bikes across the island, we arrange for a taxi. Meters are not used on the island. Period. The bargain price is 200 baht. Not bad now that we know the distance. The driver assures us that he knows of the Muay Thai gym. He doesn’t.  After stopping at several different places, I give him the information one more time. Ahhhh…know he knows. We’re whisked into a densely populated part of the island. There are shops and restaurants tightly squeezed into store fronts. Lots of foot traffic. Lots of tuk-tuks. Lots of taxis. The area is like a miniature New York City: all walks of life, an activity for anyone, and incomparable people-watching.  

Winding through the narrow roads, we pass by some running men who are clearly a part of a gym. The Muay Thai gym offers classes and boot camps; it is a well-known attraction for those in training. Moments later, we're in front of the gym.  There is an enclosed part of it where a store and check-in are located. The workout part of the gym has no windows. It's steamy outside. Really, really hot. I'm sweating and haven't even begun to work out. We're directed to a section of the gym where we can warm up by jumping rope. I quickly assess the area and notice that these men are serious. I'm one of three women; there are about twenty people in the class. We are given gear to wear. It is amazingly stinky and sweating. I wince as I put on the leg pads and boxing gloves. Yeah...I'm just a little grossed out, and my germophobia doesn't help any. I push past it.

With every drop of hydration pouring out of my skin, I go into the main fighting room. The men are kicking, punching, and jumping about. I hope they're gentle with me, I think. Class begins. The teacher is fierce. He picks me out of the crowd and does a quick tutorial. Deezy is his next victim; however, he keeps pace like a seasoned fighter. Next, we do two minute rounds of certain moves with fighters, switching along the way. Deezy and I partner first. The second partner extends his hand. I go to shake it. He shakes his head. Oh my goodness I'm a total idiot! I extend my hand and just tap it; give a little dap. I'm mortified and haven't even started fighting. The rest I will leave to your imagination.  

Let's just say, some of the fighters were kinder to me than others, and I got out of the situation with no permanent injuries. Success! At the end, another instructor takes Deezy and me aside and does some additional kicking exercises. At this point, I'm spent. I need water. Desperately! As we take off the gear, I notice the stench remains on my skins. I stink. Gross! I ask to use the bathroom. Barefoot, I walk across sweating concrete to a unisex bathroom that has clearly only been used by men. I scrub my hands. No luck. The sweat of scores of men before me is permanently etched in my DNA. I make a mental note not to touch my face or anything else. With no clothes to change into, Deezy and I leave the gym looking like we just went swimming. We negotiate a hard deal for a taxi back to the hotel.  The sun has already set and we're exhausted. Tomorrow we leave the island.  

Our departure from Koh Samui was much easier than our arrival. We ditch the train and opt for a plane. There is no way we want to waste time getting back to Bangkok. The airport is efficient and nobody is there. We check in and within five minutes, we're at the gate. The most remarkable thing about the airport: all the old white men with young - super young, very young - Thai girlfriends. What's more spectacular: the men don't even hide their wedding rings. It's actually stomach turning. I actually think my mouth was ajar as one particularly older, distinguished looking man passes by with an incredibly youthful Thai girl. She can't be more than eighteen years old. He has to be at least sixty-five. This is a very common sight, but one I can't get used to. Fortunately, our wait is as short as the flight. We arrive in Bangkok within forty-five minutes. Really short story about a plane.  

It's our last day there, and we have a lot of errands to run.The bags get checked at the airport in the short-term holding room. We take the subway to the tailor's shop to get our clothes. Some of them are finished and others are not. We order more clothes, which they assure us will be to order by the end of the day. I no longer want to hang out in the shop. Strolling down the street, Deezy notices a Thai massage place. There are quite a few. I choose one. It's a bit seedy, but everything in Bangkok is. I'm ushered upstairs and it is dark, really dark. A cubical that can just hold two people is the space I have to change and await the masseuse.

I'm wearing an oversized cotton outfit. In comes a petite Thai woman. She looks stern. Her hands are strong and I'm baffled at the contradiction in her strength and size. The Thai massage is like no other massage. I'm basically beaten up.  Seriously. But, it feels strangely in-cred-ible. At one point, she sits me up and puts me on her lap. She then moves my body beyond its own capacity. It is the most bizarre experience because of the positions. At another time, I'm on all fours as she beats my back and arms. I seriously question the validity of this technique, but it did feel good. Stunned with the reality of a Thai massage, I walk downstairs where Deezy has been waiting for me. He asks if the place is legit or if something unspeakable has happened to me. I'm totally out of it. I smile at Deezy and pay. I literally can't speak for a few minutes. I am so perplexed. Deezy is laughing. I start telling him about my experience, adding more detail as I talk. Thai massage - what an experience for sure!

At Lumphini Park, we are looking at the lizards and visiting the old shires when it starts to down pour. Fortunately there is a covered area. Deezy and I watch "Mad Men" on the iPad. A sizable crowd gathers in the covered area, some of whom are homeless. So cozy. We all remain in the "house" for hours. The rain doesn't let up.  We have time to kill while waiting for our clothes before our flight. When all is said and done, we had watched a good number of episodes. The rain lets up a little. We go to the tailor's. The clothes are done...kind of. Some last minute changes are needed. We're cutting it close to the time of the flight and still have to get through Bangkok traffic and get our luggage from storage. Fortunately, we find a skilled taxi driver and make it with time to spare. From there, we spend a lot of time in the air. Ohhhh...but one last thing happens. On the flight home, we change planes from Thai to Japan. In the terminal we hear Deezy's name over the paging system.  Mortified, we both ignore it. His name is announced again, and he hesitantly goes to the service counter. Yep, you guessed it - the food restrictions. This fish allergy is killing me! And so ends our journey.