The Final Chapter

So here I am, sitting at my computer at home in rainy Hampshire. For at least a while my travels are over and I have the not so easy task of trying to sum up what this means. Like any large transition in life it involves a mixture of emotions and these were mine:

GUTTED
There I was, my last night on Phi Phi, Bucket fed and sitting in the sea under a three-quarter moon with my trousers on. Gutted. No other way to describe how I felt but gutted. Here was all this beauty and opportunity and it was slipping through my fingers. Where had the last year gone? How had this period of my life that I had longed for departed with such apparent ease? Life leaking away and out of my control.

DENIAL
The next morning Dave, Arron and I set off on the 16 hour journey back to Bangkok. The sinking feeling of the night before had been substituted with a point blank lack of emotion at to the imminent changes in my living situation. Watch Phi Phi disappear and past the stark juttings of Krabi without too much thought. Just get on with travel as usual, meet a nice bunch of people, do standard random things and collapse before I even finish my Singh on the overnight bus.

PISSED OFF
The last day in Bangkok, that ultimate fairyland of backpackers, my last day of travel. Once the mundane tasks are out of the way, a heightened and sharp annoyance with the whole situation takes over. Solution - beer. Slightly crazy Dutch guy from a month ago joins the boys and we hit the giraffes (3 litres of Chang in an ice cooled tower) hard. Narrowly decide not to get a ‘Carpe Diem’ tattoo.

WHAT THE HELL
Sombre attitude alleviated by final contemplative walks and meeting up with lasses from the journey back from Phi Phi. A last rush of laughs, drinks and squeezing of every last minute takes over. Throw my bag on my shoulder and say adios with an inane grin on my face.

REMEMBRANCE
Bugger…. I forget to give Dave the Kleiner Welt Atlas that a certain German gave me at the end of his travel 7 months ago with the promise to pass it on to a worthy recipient. Leave all possessions with Israeli couple and run more than mildly inebriated down the Khao San Road one last time – dump the book with the gals and sprint back to the bus for all I’m worth.


CONFUSION
Enter the airport half cut wearing a singlet, thongs, pink glasses and Mr Brightside booming in my ears on repeat… everything dandy… DOUBLE BUGGER – manage to lose my bag containing not only all my money and cards but my passport God damn it… think of Mik… you’ve really blown it this time haven’t you… run with big bag on back and glasses to information, BA desk, police… no sign of bag anywhere… oh well you can’t argue with fate - back to the pub then… no… no… I have to go home…gate closes in a few minutes… think James think, where on earth could I have lost it… faint glimpse of an important memory… swinging trolley round a corner… BINGO… relief… my bag and everything in it… sweating but happy they let me on the plane… take off over uncountable lights of the metropolis… slumber…collapse.


ACCEPTANCE
Bump bump tschhhhh. Back on home soil. Familiar accents, buildings and ease. Friendly passport control, bag intact and I’ve made it. It’s not so bad. Resolute about future travel but not entirely against the idea of getting on with my life. And there they are, not only my dad but Christina as well. Two of the people that I could not but return for.

CONTENT
The final leg of my journey. Striding off a train in the morning light, through the town and now past the lake with the familiar and reassuring weight of my pack on my back. I had almost forgotten just how beautiful this part of the world is. A final thought for everything I am leaving behind, look forward with a genuine smile, walk through the door and surprise my mother. I’m Home.

Over….done…complete!

This only leaves concluding words to thank everyone and everything that has made this year everything it has been. For opening my eyes and showing me just what life can and should mean and for setting me on my path.

A contemporary poet describes life as a bitter-sweet symphony – how accurate – a mixed bag of emotions, feelings and occurrence. Life like a symphony is not about its end but its journey. Every note is there to be grabbed, soaked up and savoured, bitter or sweet, whether you do so is up to you!

Paradise Islands

Back in Bangkok, a city that is really growing on me, and more specifically back in Sawasdee House, a place that has become like a second home during 6 weeks in the region. Bonus – Dave eventually found Arron having a few drinks with a bunch of randoms on the Khao San Road, and Double Bonus – Dan (university mate who set up a bar in Cambodia) and his lovely girlfriend Sokha were around. I was meant to meet them in Phnom Pehn but as circumstances had it would have missed them had it not been for Dave’s illness. So, despite Dave’s continued ailment and me feeling like shit after catching some bug in the hospital, we had a very pleasant night out on the giraffes. The only bad news was a ridiculous decision by the embassy to deny Sokha her tourist visa for England. I will not go into details but a disgrace.

Dan and Sokha

We woke up the next morning rather late and discovered that all the bus/boat tickets to Ko Phi Phi were sold out – bummer – only 8 days left and something is trying to stop us getting to a beach. What to do? Full moon party – no, not what I need. Flight - yes, no money left but with a bit of help from Arron we were at the airport within a couple of hours jumping on a flight to Phuket. Why not – go with the flow. We landed in package holiday central Phuket, dumped our stuff and despite relative knackeredness decided that as it was about to tick past midnight onto Dave’s 24th bday we had to do something. Phuket town was a ghost town, so the only option was the infamous (if it not infamous it should be) Patong. Problem – the only way to get there was with a rather inebriated looking man in his beamer. Solution - pay him to put the whisky and coke down and kiss the St Christopher's. A stupid decision as he was an absolute nutter, but we got there in the end and had a very interesting night. It was one of those occasions where you feel more of an observer than a participant.

In a rather small nutshell, Patong resembles one of those ghastly towns on the south coast of Spain invaded by hordes of Brits and Germans. Just add a much nicer beach and thousands of prostitutes. There are bars after bars, after strip-clubs after nightclubs of prostitutes, lady-boys, dirty old men and other tourists interested to have a look. It is rather strange to see quite a large number of foreign women revelling in all this debauchery, but simply disgusting to see how some of the men act.



Now, the concept of prostitution does not shock me and I do see arguments for not entirely condemning the practice. I have also realised as I have got older that the only thing that makes a dirty old man any dirtier then a younger man is his age. Society simply does not accept the same thoughts and attitudes from people of different age brackets. BUT, the way some of these men act is unforgiveable.

One man in particular was treating the girls so badly that I had this incredibly strong urge to smack him. Anybody who knows me knows I am not a violent person, but just the sight of this shit of a human made my blood boil. In the end I decided not to hit him but rather take pictures and publish them. Below is one fellow paying off the girls. I have other photos that I am trying to find an appropriate place to publish. Unfortunately I just missed the worst guy and I am ashamed to say that he was a fellow Brit.

So we had an interesting night, not all of it blood boiling (one incident with a conspicuous bulge in a ‘ladies’ pants and a seemingly unknowing customer was hilarious) and after very little sleep and a rip-off scam were on a boat cruising across the Andaman sea to the famed Ko Phi Phi.


KO PHI PHI


This place hit the spot. An absolutely perfect final week to this nearly half a year in Asia and year travelling. All the ingredients of some great diving, hammocks, buckets, boxing ring, fiesta de carpe diem, cricket, sunshine, good company and incomparable scenery brewed together just right.

Aaron and I dived every other day, seeing leopard sharks, sea snakes, moray eels, rays, nudi branches, lion-fish, crown-of-thorns, barracuda, wonderful corals and numerous other wonderful things. The icing on the cake was Simon, a slightly crazy Dutch guy who led most of our dives. For one reason or another he had confidence in our diving and so we were able to do some rather exciting things such as entering into 3m swells, night dives, coping with massive currents and doing a great swim-through. It was all awesome and to cap it all off when you surface you have the astounding beauty of Phi Phi Leh or the Bida islands soaring in front of you.

When not diving, days were spent on the stunning beaches, sleeping (in Dave and Steve’s case) or chilling in hammocks. It is a real paradise. However many times I have seen people's pictures of these green clad limestone cliffs rising out of perfectly turquoise water and blessed with glittering golden sand beaches, and however good their pictures were, it did did not fully prepare me for what is definitely one of the most beautiful places I have had the privilege to enjoy.

Night times were just messy. Long periods spent on our balcony occasionally visited by random passers by were eventually broken by trips to Apaches, Hippies, Reggae Bar and Carpe Diem for inevitable buckets and the even more inevitable silliness that follows them. Below are a few appropriate photos (Dave you can thank me for leaving out the Gnome pictures - never mix antibiotics with buckets):






















And also evidence of a certain second round knock out that was not in Dave’s favour:




Who wouldn’t agree to box in the middle of a bar for a couple of buckets. Pure hilarity and I have most of it on film. Personally I would like to dedicate the victory to my coach Arron and henceforth retire from boxing with an undefeated unanimous knockout record…….hmmmm.


A highlight of the week was a cruise to Phi Phi Leh on the final day. Despite Arron being hit by a long boat while snorkeling (seriously dangerous) and me smashing against the rocks trying to get to the beach (yes, there is a nutty hole in the cliffs that you scramble through to see the beach from ‘The Beach’) it was quite brilliant. The beach itself all but bought a tear to my eye and will be one of those special places locked in my brain. Amazingly the bay on the other side is equally magnificent and our last half an hour there messing about in the rain after most of the other boats had run on home was a perfect end to this trip.

The place is simply magical. Rather than further describe it I just recommend you go there.

This account has to include something that still hangs over the islands and will do for a long time to come. This paradise was devastated by the Tsunami of late 2004 and many lives were lost. The accounts you hear and effects you see and feel can not but affect you and your experience on the island. Many people complain about the direction the island is being lead by the mafia type people who run it, but as far as I was concerned it was still a very special place and the recent troubles are all the more reason to support it. The wave showed that nature still emphatically has the power to destroy us, but, I fear, we equally have the power to destroy nature. We have been given pretty damn close to heaven on earth – just don’t ruin it.

HOSPITAL FUBAR

Aaaah




41.2 degrees Celsius.

The approximate temperature on Dave's forehead. After cycling around to find a phone and finding the insurance helpline lacking in the help department, we took the decision to get to Pakse as quick as possible. A walk and boat ride later we were arguing… correction, I was arguing (Dave was lying in a heap on his bag) with a man who gave us no choice but to pay $48 to take us in his minibus to Pakse. I made it clear I thought he was being unethical to say the least, but had no choice but to use his overpriced services.

Once in Pakse we stayed in a nice hotel the Dutch girls recommended, but Dave’s temperature was not decreasing sufficiently and hot and cold sweats, aches and shivers were a kind of hint that we should get more help. The advice from the Aussie embassy was to cross the border into Thailand, so a taxi, tuk tuk, pickup, and few hours later we were in Ubon, a mid-sized city just over the border. I asked for the best hospital in town and that is how we ended up here….

I won’t go into details of how the 3-4 days in hospital unfurled, but a whole lot of tests, x-rays, a couple of days in ICU (intensive care) due to shock and a whole lot of drips, injections and pills later we eventually walked out the hospital with a brand new set of plans.

The whole experience was rather shaky but I think Dave coped well. He can not remember a couple of the days. While he was lying there in a daze I spent most of my time arguing with the finance department (6 hours straight on the final day alone – try explaining the concept of a guarantee when they speak no English and do not even know how to type in a credit card number), fetching food from down the road, contacting Dave’s parents and Arron and sleeping on the sofa in Dave’s room.

In the end I have nothing but praise for the hospital and the local people. I do not think either of us have had more propositions in such a short space of time. The nurses just would not understand that maybe, just maybe Dave lying with 4 drips in his arm and me trying to sort everything out were not in the best of moods to be complimented and flirted with. That sounds like a complaint and was not meant as one. I became acquainted with members of the local council and owners of major restaurants/bars and was taken on free nights out. At one point, a man even invited me to stay for a month with him and his sister so that I could learn Thai. Lovely offer, but with just 10 days left of my year out nowhere but a beach would do.

When Dave eventually came to his senses he was understandably fidgety as they come and I had to almost pin him down so that we could get discharged and jump on a flight to the capital. Why the capital? Firstly because it has excellent medical facilities, but centrally because Arron (Dave’s best mate) had been waiting there for 3 days - we had to stop him jumping on his connecting flight to Cambodia or his planned two week holiday with Dave would have dematerialised. A couple of phone calls and a long series of emails later he was settled in Bangkok having a laugh waiting for the inbound invalid.

So farewell to Cambodia and days resting on the Mekong. All in all a really quite shit and not entirely unscary episode that changed all our plans. You never know what you are going to get, part of the reason why travelling is so addictive. Yes we lost experiences, time and money, but we discovered some of the friendliest people miles off any trail and ended up on one of the most beautiful islands in the world. Life takes funny turns including an inevitable final one, but it puts a nice little smile on my face that you just never know what is coming – and to be honest I think life (and death) would be a lot less interesting if all its paths and riddles were straight forward.

A silver lining?

Four Thousand Islands, a Temple and a Couple of Hammocks

So after 2 days of travel and a surprisingly good night's sleep we jumped off a bus in Pakse (southernmost biggish town in Laos) only to jump onto to yet another bus heading further south. We arranged to jump off the bus after about an hour to see the one of the premier archaeological sights of this land - Wat Phou Champasak. Why is stuff usually such a bother? Because it is more interesting that way.

We had pre-arranged a price, but on leaving the bus a very irate bus driver demanded more money from us. It may work on other travellers, but a man angrily grabbing my stuff and shaking his fists in front of my face does not generally convince me of his point of view. In fact the opposite. Dave is the same way inclined and hence we just sat there and the whole bus had to wait for something close to an hour before anything could be settled. Laos is a beautiful country, with wonderful people, but such an influx of tourists and their dollars has undoubtedly spoiled parts of it. Maybe it should not, but the fact is it came as quite a shock that people's desire for the dollar would lead so immediately to violence in a devoutly Buddhist land and I believe it would be irresponsible travel to give into to such brutish behaviour. So the long and the short of it is that a number of people had to wait quite a long time before an English guy helped to solve the situation with some cards. A shout from a Scottish muppet on the bus that it is only 60 pence missed the point. It is not about money but principle. If you can stop people acting like this then you should for everyone concerned.





Wat Phou Champasak

Anyway, it was eventually sorted and we caught a boat across the Mekong and a tuk tuk through the countryside to the sacred hill that foster the dilapidated Angkorean era ruins. The pictures give some idea of the former glory of this temple and palace complex. What made it for me were (i) the peace and quite that came with being the first people at the sight, (ii) the lovely prayer women, (iii) the spectacular view of the Mekong flats stretching into the far distance and, of course, (iv) the funny black lizards jumping around our feet. Some of the carving was magnificent though the site needs significant reservation.

Back on the tuk tuk, across the river and eventually hitched onto a pickup truck. Four or so bumpy, rattly hours later we were jumping on another boat through one of the most special regions of South-East Asia. Just north of Cambodia are the so called 'Four Thousand Islands' (almost certainly less) in the middle of the Mekong. Picture numerous verdant islands poking out the fast-flowing deep red waters of the regions major river. A place to lie back, relax, search for river dolphins and stare at waterfalls – a hard life.

We stayed on one of the most southerly islands, Don Det. A bit of a backpacker hangout but if you stay away from the landing post it is suitably laid back. Thanks to the advice of the guy who aided the bus issue earlier – Charlie – we ended up in a seriously sorted situation. There were 4 little huts on stilts on the edge of the Mekong, each one costing only a dollar and including a swinging hammock on the veranda - paradise. Add the arrangement of Charlie in the far right hut, Dave and me with a hut each in the middle and 2 great Dutch girls who we met in the pickup on the far right and we had very little excuse to move from the hammocks.

So three days were certainly not wasted on the veranda, talking, drinking, reading and simply watching the Mekong rush by. The only series of significant action came on our penultimate night when, after I had just watched a small cat fight a very worryingly coloured snake on the path - I tried to help the cat but made a quick exit when my torch conked out at a perfectly inopportune time - we decided to go for a stroll and Samatha and I ended up walking the majority of the island in the pitch black until the first greys of day burst over the river and we jumped onto a boat bound for the waterfall. We were joined by a funny Czech couple (Dave went home not feeling best) and on reaching the destined river-bank, jumped on top of a bus (literally – a painful experience on Lao roads) and rode to the largest waterfall in South-east Asia.

I say a waterfall, it is more like a colossal rapid stretching before you. I was struck by the noise and force of the churning ochre water. Add sleep-deprivation, a wind-rushed bus ride and an eerie first light setting and the occasion starts to take body. Then back on top of the bus with the locals starting their day's work in the padi fields accompanied with surprisingly white buffalo and even more surprised expressions on the faces of locals as some stupid white people surfing on top of a big bus rushed by.


I liked this place so much that I planned to give up some days in northern Cambodia to stay in that incomparable hammock. But….. life has a way of choosing different paths. I woke up the next day to find Dave with a temperature of 41.2 degrees C (approx 105 degrees F), fever, shakes and aches. So there we were in a malaria hot spot, Cambodia beneath, Laos above and not a decent hospital within 6 hours. Definitely the start of a new story….