Chiang Mai Part Two: animals galore *by Immy*

Chiang Mai offers so much in the way of activities that we decide to extend our stay by another night. It is still far too little time to manage to do everything we want, so we discard the idea of watching Muay Thai Boxing and going on a night safari. We push Ro’s cultural tolerance to the limit by venturing to yet another temple. The Wat Phra That Doi Suthep temple is reputed to be beautiful, and an attractive pilgrimage for many Thai’s to worship at, as well as admire its beauty. Unfortunately the temple is undergoing major construction work, and is shrouded by scaffolding, so it looks somewhat less majestic than we had anticipated.
Structural work detracts from the splendor of Wat Suthep.

Thai pilgrims at Wat Suthep.

Cultural expeditions well and truly exhausted (Ro breathes a long sigh of relief), an afternoon of zip-lining ensues. For the uninitiated, that comprises of being harnessed to wires/ ziplines and gliding between platforms in the treetops at the highest point of a forest, some 45 meters above solid ground. It is exhilarating, and quite a rush, though perhaps a bit tame for the most seasoned adrenaline junkies.

An interesting mode of transport, 45 meters above ground.

I think we deserve some sort of recognition for the amount of waterfalls we’ve visited… by now we must be somewhere near double figures. Now some of these supposed waterfalls are in fact more like bubbling streams masquerading as waterfalls, while others are crashing cascading waterfalls that belong on postcards. Keeping up with our regular waterfall slot, we pay a visit to Mae Sa Waterfall. This is an impressive beast of a waterfall, comprising of ten separate falls which we reach via a pleasant secluded walk. Most people congregate by the 1st to 4th falls, perhaps put off by the length of the walk to get to the 10th fall. Having completed a three hour uphill mountain trek only days earlier, we feel invincible, so a few paltry steps is no mean feat for us. We are compelled to get to the 10th fall, and are rewarded accordingly by a breath-taking sight.

One of Mae Sa’s ten falls.

I’m keen to see the Sunday Walking Street, in which a road becomes pedestrianized from 4pm to midnight with the sole purpose of enabling hawkers to sell their wares. I am not disappointed by the vast array of crafts, and am determined to find a pretty bracelet, but end up buying several, as each one is more colourful and beautiful than the last. They currently all sit at the bottom of my suitcase alongside the abandoned camera.
We’re pleased to discover most products display a clearly marked price tag, which is rare for markets typically frequented by tourists, where the venders tend to double if not treble the price for non Thai folk, and ask for as much baht as they think they can get, regardless of the items’ actual value. The onus is on the buyer to negotiate a more reasonable price, something that Ro is far more proficient at than I.

Dancers entertain the crowds on Sunday Walking Street.

Mae Sa offers much entertainment for the tourist who is not shy about parting with their money. We are riveted by a snake show and sit in a near trance watching the snake handlers dance skillfully past a Python’s darting forked tongue. I quickly realize that Ro appears not to be quite as entranced as I am, when a snake comes flying in our direction. Ro vanishes from his seat in an instant. There’s a puff of dust from his departing shoes, and he beats a hasty retreat to the safety of a seat several rows back. The snake turns out to be a twisted length of rope, but I must draw attention to Ro’s considerate efforts to protect his poor girlfriend from the venom of the Python, leaving me alone in the front row, frozen in shock! He won’t be nominated for any awards for bravery…

Ro is uncertain about his new friend

I’m definitely a cat person, and will always make time to coo over a fluffy long-haired cat, or blue-eyed kitten. However this is the first time big cats have entered the equation. I’m fond of cute cuddly kittens who purr contentedly while having their tummies rubbed, but I have never previously experienced this with a feline who doesn’t fit in my arms. Enter the tiger! Ro and I sign away our lives by entering a tigers’ cage to stroke three large cats. There is a surreal moment beforehand when we are required to sign a disclaimer confirming we will not sue the Tiger Kingdom in the event of injury (mauling by a ferocious cat?) and we take full responsibility for choosing to go into the tigers’ cage. Somehow I can’t imagine our travel insurance paying our medical bills if we get savaged.
We creep hesitantly into the lions’ den so to speak, both trying to stand behind the other lest the tigers feel hungry at that very instant. We’re flanked by three staff from the Tiger Kingdom, who approach the tigers first, and then encourage us to stroke these beautiful creatures. I’m enthralled – I’ve found my perfect Christmas present! Within minutes my fear has evaporated and I’m hugging these giant cats, confident that they’re too busy ripping coconuts to shreds to have time for an Immy sandwich.
Ro is far less comfortable however, and although he touches the cats, he prefers to maintain a safe distance. I’m reminded of his quick reaction to the flying snake, and am under no illusion that I’m on my own if the tiger turns in our direction.

My new pet?

A monkey school is located beside the snake and tiger establishments, so we trot along for a look. It is a horrible experience, and I feel quite upset by the treatment of the monkeys. They are all chained to stakes in the ground and can only move a foot in either direction. The staff at the monkey school assure us they are unchained after 5pm, but I can’t think beyond their daytime confinement. A monkey show comprises of a monkey riding a bicycle and a tuk tuk, pushing a small cart etc, all the time being led around on a chain by its handler. I’m far from impressed. If the monkey were really so well trained there should be no need for these heavy chains. The treatment of a tiny 2 year old monkey who is just undergoing training is abhorrent – the monkey is clearly terrified, and I suspect some pain is being inflicted by the handler. I want to cuddle the monkey, and ensure it has a better quality of life. Can I add a monkey to my Christmas wish list too?

Monkey enduring very restricted movement range

We are going to Hua Hin to relax by the coast with Ro’s friends for a few days before we must part company. My time in Thailand is running out and I will be returning far too soon to the cold winds and rain of London. I have loved my month in the sun with Ro, and I wonder how I will manage without him and the sunshine for the next few weeks. I hope you have enjoyed the brief interlude from Ro’s writing, he will be back with the Hua Hin update and will resume full responsibility for all future blog updates!

Ro continues his adventures alone.

Chiang Mai Part One: 2 day adventure trip *by Immy*

I’m back! Well you didn’t think you’d heard the last of me, did you? Ro and I are spending a week in Chiang Mai, northern Thailand. It has a sleepy friendly vibe in comparison to the constant stream of tourists milling around like ants in Ko Phi Phi, and to the frenetic hustle and bustle of Bangkok. It is very common here to see three people piled onto a motorbike, and on one occasion we see a father bringing his four children to school on his motorbike.

Fried insects make a cheap nutritious snack

We start the week on a typically culturally touristic note, visiting three temples in an afternoon. I remember to dress appropriately this time to avoid causing offence (so no need to borrow an over-sized sweat-stained man’s shirt on this occasion), and I ensure my shoulders, knees and midriff are not exposed.

Ro grits his teeth and heads for the first of three temples on our designated cultural day

Monks meditating inside the temple

Initial searches for an exact replica of Ro’s drowned camera prove unsuccessful so we execute Plan B. My camera is a few years old so I buy a new one for myself which will suffice for our happy snaps until such time as Ro can find this elusive replacement. As you might expect, no sooner have I purchased my camera, Ro locates a store that stocks a replica camera. Well it is in fact some random assortment of letters *don’t ask!* posing as a DMC TZ7 but apparently it is the same thing. Ro is ecstatic! All of his Christmasses have come at once! Holland has won the world cup! Nothing can deter Ro from buying this camera, and he even overlooks it not having an international warranty. My poor camera only gets to enjoy one day in the limelight before being relegated to the depths of my suitcase.

We book ourselves onto a two day adventure trip that boasts a variety of activities. The main attractions for me are the white water rafting and an elephant ride. I can’t say I’m overly enthused by the elephant ride, but it’s a pleasant experience nonetheless, and I get to feed Ellie some bananas. We then embark on a three hour trek into the mountainous hills, the aim is to reach a small hillside tribe nestled into the peak of the hills where we will stay the night.

Cooling off

We were advised to bring warm clothes but nothing prepares us for the arctic conditions we discover on arrival at the village. I’m not adverse to an afternoon of walking and would regard myself as being reasonably active, but this trek is akin to climbing a glacier with no ice pick. It is a steep ascent, with no respite due to it being uphill all the way. Sweat cascades from us like waterfalls. We stagger along clutching our abdomens and gasping for air as though our lives depend on it. Right about now it feels as though I will collapse, and I fear the only way I’ll get off this freakin’ mountain is if I’m carried off it. Eventually, much hotter, damper, and no doubt considerably lighter, we complete the vertical challenge and reach our final destination for the night: the village.

Taking a much needed break from the constant uphill struggle

Immediately after putting our bags down, our guide suggests we pay a small fee for a massage from the local women. The village people used to grow and sell opium which was a substantial part of their income, but they have since been prohibited from using it outside of their village, and would really benefit from additional money, as such us having a massage would be mutually beneficial. 7/10 of our group opt for our weary bones to be massaged back to life. The village women silently emerge from the shadows and set about the task of restoring us to the human race.

Two of the village elders

Never before has the cooking of an evening meal been so riveting! Our entire group of 10 is drawn to the fire like moths to flames in an attempt to elicit some heat from the close bodily contact with others, as well as from the fire licking the cauldron of food. A fire blazes for the rest of the evening, stoked up by a village man with his bare hands. We sit round the fire swapping stories until the early hours of the morning, whilst the more adventurous disappear to a secluded room to smoke opium laced with paracetamol, supplied to them for a small fee by the local villagers.

Multi-talented: tour guide/cook

Enjoying hot food on a cold night

We endure sub zero temperatures during the night… okay okay 10 degrees, but even sleeping fully clothed and under three blankets does little to stave off the cold. For those of us lucky enough to shiver ourselves into some sort of uneasy slumber, we are rudely awakened at some unearthly hour of the night by a cacophony of cockerels with no sense of time, who feel it necessary to make their presence known in the dead of night. This is followed promptly by a pack of dogs baying to the moon. Jeez what does someone need to do to get some sleep around here?

Our freezing sleeping quarters provided no respite from our feathered friends

I wake up feeling bitterly cold and ill. The jury’s still out on the cause, I suspect the food, but our tour guide (and cook) is adamant that the sudden change in temperature caused me to be sick. I feel sorry for myself all morning and actively avoid conversing with anyone, until wallowing in the depths of self-pity motivates me to beg a paracetamol from a kindly American who has brought everything with her except the kitchen sink.

Following my much needed injection of painkillers (perhaps I should have indulged in the paracetamol laced opium last night?) I’m suitably recovered enough to partake in white water rafting on the Mae Taeng river, which is not as turbulent as anticipated, sadly we don’t get to experience any grade five rapids as rainfall has been low recently. It is a fun filled experience, followed by bamboo rafting. Ro fancies himself as a dab hand at steering the bamboo raft, which he discovers is no easy feat when we all stand up and submerge the raft!

Celebrating the end of the 2 day trek with a Margarita

5 Day Andaman road trip: Part 2

Day 2’s ride is shorter than we think. The sun, trees and roadside dogs are encouraging us along the way. Reminds me: Immy confessed that yesterday she nearly dozed off at the back of the bike….
Oumbakowatcha?! Can you believe that? How on earth can you doze off on a motorbike? We wear helmets without windshields, allowing the wind to rush straight into your face making your cheeks look silly and once in a while an unidentified insect is crushed on your nose too. And don’t forget the wind rushes right into the ears as well, making the inside of our helmets sound as if airplanes are taking off constantly. And she is dozing off?! What’s next? FC Twente winning the Dutch league? Mwahaha.

I myself experience a different unexplained bike riding effect. While riding, old songs pop into my head that I haven’t heard or thought of for over 20 years, and I hum these whole damned songs in detail too. Where did they come from? Were they secretly stored in Archived memory somewhere? An example is ‘We Are Growing’ the theme song from an ‘80s TV series Shakazulu. And I didn’t even like the song nor the series. Blimey! My scientific explanation for this is that the wind coming in my face enters my head with such force through my nostrils that it stirs up the grey brain cells at the back, making them drift into the upper brain-flaps where the humming organ resides, as you know. I sure don’t hope my short term memory will be pushed to the back now in a sort of FILO (First In Last Out) system. Anyway, what was I talking about?
Right, Immy dozing off. So now besides watching the traffic, dogs and pits in the road, I also check on occasions whether Immy is still sitting behind me, which for everybody’s peace of mind is reported as ‘Affrmative’ for the whole trip.

We arrive at Laem Son National Park again at a lovely bungalow resort for hardly any money, run by a Dutch guy Boudewijn and his Thai wife Wasana, we immediately feel at home here.

Wasana of Wasana bungalows.

The next day we walk through the National Park, which is literally a walk through the park compared to yesterday’s survival combat. Boudewijn sends us on a lonesome trek that leads past a couple of deserted beaches, mangroves and a birdy forest.

Laem Son National Park, not a soul in sight

High tide adds a tiny bit of action to our day

We haven’t had much luck so far in finding waterfalls. For various reasons we never seem to actually reach one. In the bit of daytime we’ve got left, we hop on our bike au direction du waterfall tres beau.

Annoyed I notice we’re nearly out of petrol but eh, no pain no gain. We make it to the indicated waterfall, but it is such a pitiful excuse for a waterfall that we can’t believe this is right. We decide to climb the stream upwards to find the real waterfall. Again annoyed I notice that Immy is gracefully hopping from stone to stone up the stream as if she were a ballerina dancing on stones. I, on the other hand, am staying far behind breaking my neck and ankles on the slippery stones.


Thailand,s gorgeous waterfalls *&^%$!

The picture above is the highest point of yet another waterfall disillusion and we rush back through the stream and forest, as we nearly get stuck in the dark off-the-beaten-track. Under imaginary applause we find our loyal bike waiting just when dusk falls.

Under imaginary woooh’s and boooh’s our loyal bike stops 10 minutes later demanding fresh petrol. This is one of those experiences that show how welcome you feel in Thailand. In 5 minutes time 4 different people stop to see what’s wrong. They all point us to the same house a little further where we get a liter of petrol from a bottle for half a euro, and we happily pay triple.

Next day we’re riding back to Phuket, back into danger zone.


This way please

Again we have 2 missions here in Phuket.
- Mission 1 – catch a flight to Chiang Mai for more action and a dose of culture
- Mission 2 – pick up my beloved camera, DMC TZ7, which I ordered last week here at Power Buy

I’m happy to report Mission 1 succeeds gloriously. Immy will update you all on the Chiang Mai experiences in the next post.
And not surprisingly Mission 2 fails miserably again. Power Buy told me with pride that they expect the camera Wednesday, the day after our flight. Cap un cap* very much.

* ‘Cap un cap’ means Thank you in Thai

5 Day Andaman road trip: LEECH, LEECH!

Time has come to climb back in the saddle, time is right to hit the road on my two-wheeled friend again. The tires of our rented motorbike should spin around an estimated 700,000 times along 1000km of asphalt and dirt, taking us to two different National Parks in the Andaman Coastal area.
Our intention is to leave Phuket at the crack of dawn with feather light backpacks carrying the bare minimum required for a 5 day trip. The rest of our luggage we’ll leave at the hotel to be collected on our return.

At around 8am we come to the conclusion this bare minimum seems to be around 90% of our entire luggage stack, and never ever will fit on our bike.
At around 9am I convince Immy she does not need 3 dresses, 3 pair of shoes and an extensive set of cosmetics.
At around 10am Immy convinces me the laptop has to go… this hurts.
Eventually the bags fit and off we go!

Road Runners Ready for a Rock ‘n Roll Ride.

Day one’s target is Kao Sok National Park. The roads in Thailand compared to Vietnam are very good and well organized. The ride is a piece of cake with wealthy views which remind me of the trip with Su last month.
 
Kao Sok National Park

We arrive at Kao Lak National Park later than anticipated (not that I took any wrong turns of course, ahem). The bungalow we booked is straight from a fairytale right beside a river stream. The sound of the streaming water and other mysterious jungle sounds make this a memorable stay. Funnily enough we both conclude that the cheaper small scaled places are so much nicer to stay at than the bigger hotels. This place costs us 8 euro per night and floats our boat big time.

Sunset at our riverside bungalow

Talking of jungle sounds… There was one in particular that draws attention.
The Cicada is little sort of bug, a bit like a cricket, which makes such an immense noise that we were convinced initially this was somehow coming from loudspeakers hidden in the jungle (don't ask). It sounds something like when you are vacuum cleaning and then a ball of socks would get stuck in the hoover-pipe: a high hissing sound indicating something is terribly wrong and about to blow up. Got it? So take that sound at roughly 90 decibel for 15 minutes non-stop.
We later learn that the Cicada has only 2 weeks to live and makes this noise from his belly to attract females to do ‘boom boom’ (boom boom is the international term for hanky panky, just as broadly used and understood as the writing sign you make when asking for the bill). In short: we can’t blame the Cicada for making that noise, we would do the same if we could. And anyway they always stop around 7pm (international boom boom time as you know).

After a nights sleep we go on an adventure tour in the park with a group of 6 and get a little more adventure than we bargained for. The relaxing ‘lake cruise’ to watch the jungle wild life is rudely disturbed by a rainstorm. Yes, we see monkeys in the trees but they all seem to be laughing at us.

Rain in the middle of the Kao Sok lake

The cave we rush into is completely dark. Helped by torches we find our way through the alleys and chambers. In some places there is ankle-deep water and we slip and slide our way past mysterious yellow eyes following our moves. The thousands of bats are not very appreciative of our aahhs and awes and especially our flash lights, so flap away annoyed into dark areas unknown to mankind.

Thankfully the rain floated away (I directed it roughly to 52 degrees North Latitude / 5 Eastern Longitude) and after a bit of relaxing and canoeing at a floating oasis it’s time for the jungle trek.

Floating Oasis

During this trek we expected to be skipping joyfully over a jungle path drifting away in our thoughts, but to our shock this is an old skool hard core jungle trek. A guide with a big sword is cutting down the flora in front of us to create a walkway through the dense jungle.
The main worries of our group are not the spiders or the snakes, it is the blood thirsty leeches crawling through the wet leaves.
Ever seen a leech? I thought it was a depressed sort of slug waiting for a lucky break. In fact they are speedy little worms actively chasing you down, they are so thin (without your blood in them) they go straight through the trainers of a Portugese guy in our group, who freaks out and dances around on one leg while cursing in Portugese. Our Thai tour-guide, however, is walking on flip flops and on occasions pulling a leech off his leg to cut it in half. I of course am something similar, indifferently pulling leeches off my legs and swallowing them raw. If anyone ever tells you I was screaming something like ‘LEECH, LEECH, GET IT OFF ME! HELP MAMA’, that obviously is an utter lie.

Thai Rambo leading the way through the jungle

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Exhausted but with most of our blood remaining we return to our cozy bungalow long after dark. A night of tanking energy for tomorrow when we will continue our trip north to Leam Som National Park, hopefully to find a little more Zen.

The Man with the Golden Gun in Phi Phi and Phuket

Ko Phi Phi is according to many one of the most beautiful islands on this planet. No wonder it also features in a few big blockbusters like The Beach and James Bond’s The Man with the Golden Gun.
A slight downside of all this is that the secret is obviously out, so that all idyllic beaches, limestone skyscrapers and other gorgeous sights are under constant admiration of large herds of fellow tourists.
Our 3 day program is comprised of boat rides, visiting our underwater friends again, a cliff climb/jump and exploring the vibrant night life.

Magical Ko Phi Phi Leh

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Human world integrates with nature on Monkey Beach. Here the monkeys know at what time the boats arrive so they can hustle their lunch from the tourists. With tens of tourists we arrive here simultaneously on different boats and we all shoot pictures of these spoiled apes…. Sad really.

A refreshing coke to wash away that Big Mac (and don’t blame the messenger pls)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Immy is by now a full pro snorkeler. On this day trip she is guiding two other girls and explaining how the snorkling is done properly.

Snorkeling in the turquoise waters around Ko Phi Phi.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
A postcard view over Ko Phi Phi Don after a steep climb

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Evidence of my 17 meter cliff jump.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Phuket is the next island. It is a big island of around 100km long and is more or less what Costa Brava is in Spain: a big big tourist holiday destination. We only stay here for one day in which I basically have 2 missions:
A-- Rent a motorbike and prepare for a road trip into the mainland.
B-- Buy a new Lumix DMC TZ7. I owned this beloved camera for two months before it got eaten by a wave from hell in Ko Lanta. I got so attached to it that I accept no other model.

Mission A is fairly easy arranged, except that on our first test ride we are caught by a tropical downpour. In the restaurant we shelter we order a coffee to sit out the storm. But this storm is not easily defeated, and we end up having several coffees, tea, starters, mains and desserts. Three hours later, thousands of Baht lighter and many kilograms heavier we continue our test ride in the dark by now.

'Yes it’s still raining, dear'

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Mission B proves impossible, no new TZ7 available in Phuket and believe me I have turned the island inside out. So far on this trip I am down 1 camera (murdered), 2 mobile phones (stolen/lost) and 3 pair of sunglasses (quashed/crushed/pulverized).  

Now it's time to get ready to leave safe tourist grounds and go for a 5 days motorbike tour to find hidden gems in the south of Thailand.

Ko Lanta: Island life *by Immy*

Let’s begin with an introduction. I’m Roland’s girlfriend Immy, and I’ve been given the dubious honour of contributing to Ro’s blog. Let’s face it, I’ve got big shoes to fill! We travel to Ko Lanta, a small island to the South of Thailand, by plane, bus and boat. I’ve been starved of Ro’s company for five long weeks, so any number of different modes of transport is fine by me if it means spending time with Ro.

On arrival at Saladan Pier in Ko Lanta, we are greeted by a phenomenal downpour, fortunately this is not an omen for the week ahead.

Annie, the manager of the bungalows where we stay, is an exceptionally hospitable hostess. We have barely put our bags down when she greets us with fresh papaya, fried bananas and the promise of tea each morning. It might be too generous a description to call the shower temperature tepid, but this does not detract from our excitement at our new surroundings. We set about the important task of basking on the beach in temperatures in the mid thirties.

A look at this property persuaded us not to move from our bungalow.

The following morning we are greeted with no electricity. The power is out on the whole island for maintenance work. Ro shrugs and opts to have an ice-cold shower (admittedly that scarcely differs from the normally luke-warm water) but alas there is no water either! We are forced to return to the beach to bathe in the sea, and lay on the beach to dry off, which is of course quite a hardship.

Enjoying alternative washing facilities.

Ro hires a motorbike and we speed around the island at up to 60 kmph, admiring the scenery while we visit every beach along the west coast of Ko Lanta.

A rare experience riding without helmets or any safety gear!

Night riding is a treacherous experience, not for the faint-hearted. A cat darts across the road in front of us, completely oblivious to Ro braking sharply to avoid mashing the hapless mog on the asphalt. A bat/bird/UFO flies in front of Ro’s face, he reacts quickly and jerks his head backwards, nearly removing my teeth in the process. A puddle interrupts our quiet contemplation as it splashes our faces with surprising force. But our journey is as rewarding as it is hazardous, and we see the unlikely sight of an elephant being driven home from a long days work on a low truck.

The elephant is content to let the truck do all the hard work.

Dinner on the beach is a spectacular affair, with the reassuring sound of the sea lapping over the sand, the constant chirruping of crickets, the tantalizing smell of freshly caught fish being barbequed, and seeing lightning in the far distance light up the night sky. By day the bars and restaurants blend into the backdrop of palm trees lining the beach, but by night they come alive, the trees twinkle with brightly coloured lights – an inviting beacon to the weary traveler.

Our bungalow is beside Klong Dao beach, which is not as secluded as some of the other beaches on Ko Lanta due to the amount of resorts on it. A ridiculous number of grey crabs lay siege to the beach, far outnumbering the amount of people. Making a serious business of tanning briefly results in the dreaded lobster appearance, which no doubt most fair skinned people can identify with.

A girl has gotta do what a girl's gotta do...

Laying on the beach is not simply about absorbing as much of the sun’s rays as possible *honestly!* but it is also a reflective experience, having no requirement other than to simply exist in this idyllic landscape. A dog trots contentedly along the beach before cocking its leg against a football and pissing on it. No doubt the glistening stream of urine will have dried up long before the child is re-acquainted with his lost football, and he will never know what I alone have seen. Large grey crabs climb out of holes in the sand, unaware I watch their every move from behind my sunglasses. They make numerous trips back to the surface clutching sand in their pincers which they cast aside before diligently returning to expand their home deeper into the sand. Alas all is in vain as a sun-worshipper plants their sandled foot directly onto the crab’s home, and the unfortunate crab is forced to burrow a new tunnel if he ever wants to see sunlight again.

We book a day trip of snorkeling to Ko Rok. I convince Ro we should go for the trip that advertises “playing with lizards” as part of the experience. We see several lizards strolling around the undergrowth but as we approach for the eagerly anticipated play time, we are hastily advised to maintain a distance of several meters to prevent the lizards attacking us. Hmmm the trip itinery specifically states playing with lizards. I must admit I feel a little cheated.

Prohibited from playing with the lizards, Ro explores Ko Rok.

The speed boat taking us snorkelling journeys from one beach to the next, collecting yet more passengers. Whilst anchored near the shore of one sun-drenched beach, a rogue wave assaults us unexpectedly, leaping uninvited into the boat and soaking us and Ro’s camera. We dry out quickly. Sadly the same can’t be said for the camera, which misbehaves badly thereafter. It proves to be a fatal casualty.

The last photo taken before Ro's camera meets its watery grave.

A day of snorkeling ensues. I've never snorkelled before, and it shows. Ro patiently explains for the umpteenth time how to use the breathing apparatus correctly, in the process he misses many golden opportunities to see rare and exquisite species of fish whilst trying to reassure me that I won’t drown, and that my lifejacket really will prevent me from plunging to the bottom of the sea. I'm too nervous to enjoy the experience. Aside from glimpsing the fleeting shape of a few fish, I spend most of my time inhaling water and gasping for air. Luckily we stop twice more for snorkel sessions, and by the third stop I finally come to an uneasy truce with my snorkel and get to enjoy snorkeling, and am proud to say I even managed without the support of a lifejacket.

Nerves eventually abandon me and I feel like a pro!

I’m sure you’ve heard enough about relaxing on a beach for one week… Coming soon to a computer screen near you - Ro will be back for the next instalment *involving yet more beaches* shortly! I hope you've enjoyed the brief interlude from Ro's updates. This is Immy, over and out.

A final sunset in Ko Lanta (taken with my camera, much better)