Next year, new name: Fawlty Towers in the Jungle. Tell your friends

These words faded into the distance as the pick-up truck took our luggage and us down the track from Our Jungle House towards the bus stop a couple miles away. Faith wrote in one of her emails that "this is the kind of place you miss afterwards" and she's right. The six days that we spent in Khao Sok have been an interesting, amusing and heartwarming experience of how a community survives and prospers at the edge of what we call civilisation. There's no lack of any creature comforts at all, at a price, in fact the visitors demand them. For example, a family booked out of Our Jungle House after less than 24 hours because it has no air-conditioning in the houses. Most of the local people, though, live simply; they have satellite tv, electricity and running water, but their homes are small and simly furnished, most have smallholdings and grow fruit and vegetables, many make an income from the tourists.
Iat is a good example. He picked us up at SuratThani station on our arrival and drove us the 100 km or so to Khao Sok. On the way we learned that he was born and lived in the next village to khao Sok, went to the local primary school (walking the 6km each way along the developing Highway 401). He pointed out all the different crops growing around us - rubber, rambutans, papayas, durian, oil palm, and served us our supper in the restaurant that night. We saw him quite a lot on other days, too. He led a "night safari" for tourists, did some local driving and spent time with his friends and family in the village itself.
There's only one street, so it wasn't easy to miss people. The main thing that he pointed out in his conversation about how things have changed is that now most children go to and from school by motorcycle. This is true; every day the little fleet set off in the morning and returned in the evening.
We also became friends with a young man who's a deaf mute. We met when we were looking for a path to local wat. We managed to explain what we were looking for and he managed to explain how we could find it. After that we saw him most days, either in the plantations, the shops or passing on his motorcycle. He always waved exuberantly at us, and we even got to have a sort of discussion about whether a brightly coloured bird that we'd all been looking at was a kingfisher or not. He signed kingfisher by waving his hand like a fish swimming while dropping the other hand down to it very fast like a diving bird.
So you see, it was a very fascinating place - and that's even without the plants and animals!
We're in Bangkok airport now, just about to go through immigration and boarding for Sydney. We shared the sleeper train from SuratThani with many people, boxes of cured eggs, crates of live crabs etc. and spent this morning exploring the maze that is Chinatown.
Now I know exactly where to go if I want someone to mend ANYTHING I own that's broken.

Vampires of the Jungle

Leeches are interesting creatures. They spend most of their time (up to six months at a time) hanging around on a leaf waiting for a meal to come along, and then, wouldn't you know it, two meals come along at once! We've been feeding leeches pretty successfully for the past few days. They make undemanding guests; you hardly know they're there until you're bleeding all over your shirt, and when you pick them off and throw them away, they are so very eager to come back that it's touching. However, we are in the rainforest, as Klaus, "our friendly manager" tells us, and this seems to account for everything that happens, both good and bad.

The people we're meeting here are of three types - locals, expats of various nations and visitors. We're firmly in the third category, you'ld think, but wait; our stay here is about three times longer than the usual visitors, who use the area as a one or two day stopover between Phuket and Kho Samui, or vice versa. The upshot is that people are beginning to recognise us as we amble about looking like something out of an Edgar Wallace story (or maybe it's because we wander about looking like ..... ).

In addition, Khao Sok village is VERY seasonal, and we're out of season. so the few vistors who are here are important to the local community. In the dry season (December - March) the place must be heaving, and there's a move to have Paradise Parties in the Jungle, Full Moon Parties etc. You can see the different factions as you walk around the village - some places have Bob Marley Posters, Che pictures and so on, and names like "Rasta Bar", "Freedom House", "Far Out Bungalows"; others have neat foliage, Thai flags and topiary and names like "Deep Forest Hideaway", "At Home with Nature" and "Green Mountain View". I'll leave you to decide where "Our Jungle House" fits into the picture, but a clue might be found in Klaus' house rule that the bar closes at 2100.

Today is our last full day here, and I'm making this entry in the village's tiny internet cafe, where the other computers are being used by local children doing their homework and Klaus doing his administration. In spite of the seasonal tourism, the village is still agricultural, and all those who run bungalow enterprises, guiding etc also have smallholdings where they grow bananas, papayas and rambutans and keep a few chickens, or work on the rubber plantations hereabouts. At this time of year, many of the little restaurants and shops are closed up.

Tomorrow we go back to Surat Thani and on to Bangkok by overnight train, but in the meantime, we're still taking in the fact that we saw Langurs (leaf monkeys) and Great Hornbills today!

Next post will likely be Bangkok or Sydney.

No suit, no life!

Down most of the sidestreets that we found in Bangkok there were small tailors-shops, and often a tout standing outside would press a card in my hand and say that he could have a good suit ready for me in a day or so. How this would help me, a hot sweaty sightseer, I'm not sure. On our last morning, as we found our way to the river pier to catch a water taxi to Hualamphong Station and the overnight train to Suratthani the usual thing happened - tailors-shop; tout; card. I was carrying a rucsack, a smaller canvas shoulder bag and I must have looked very sweaty indeed, but I still managed to refuse politely, " Mai, khap khun khrap." I even managed a half-hearted wai (you'll have to look that one up if you don't know). He smiled a big smile and, with oodles of sincerity replied, " No suit, no life!"
If only you knew, I thought smugly.
So, then, more impressions.
Walking from the river pier to Hualamphong through Chinatown. We passed through the mechanics' soi (quarter). Store after store filled with reclaimed car-parts - whole shops full of gleaming cog-wheeels, others piled high with hubcaps or oiled drive-shafts, and everywhere the smell of mineral oil and diesel.
Hualamphong itself. Blessedly cool because it's air-conditioned, crowds of people - Thais, backpackers, seated around on the floor watching advertisements on a huge plasma screen while monks in orange robes mingled among them. ALL stood up to attention while the National anthem played at 6 pm!
The train was an experience. Imagine "Some like it Hot" played in a sauna and you'll have a good idea. We had our beds made up for us and we were plunged into darkness when the train-dude closed the blinds on the windows. Outside, Bangkok slid away and, before we fell asleep we glimpsed fireflies in the trees.
Just outside Surathani we were woken and our beds disappeared to become seats again! Lots of tired bemused travellers - we were, worryingly, easily twice the age of any other non-Thais in the train. The train disgorged us onto the platform where the touts homed in - "Koh Samui?" "Where you go?" "Best deal, honest" (you can decide on that last one for yourself). But we were being met, and so we looked for a sign with our names on it. There it was - a big smile, a handshake and Iat (we think that's how it's spelled) took us to the car, loaded our bags, bought us coffee and whisked us away from the chugging coaches and pick-ups.
Along Highway 401 and into the mountains. Iat pointed out rubber plantations (the price is good, apparently), his old school where he used to walk 4 kms from his village each day, "But now all have motorcycle." We saw lots of these - it was school run time as we drove along. The best I counted was a parent and four children (all in immaculate school uniform, and with school bags) on one motorcycle.
At Khao sok we turned off the road and down a track into the forest - plantations of banana, oil palm, rambutan. "Our Jungle House"was just as we'd imagined; a claearing in the plantations and low thatched buildings by the side of a river flowing beneath an immense cliff. Klaus, the manager met us and explained that we were welcome. He was, he said, trying to create a kind of Fawlty Towers in the Jungle. We'll see! Our tree house is charming - set about 4 metres above the ground, it looks out over the river and onto the limestone cliff where there is a nest of wild bees among the tropical vegetation. We immediately set off for a gentle walk in the national park where we were comprehensively mossied and leeched - but no harm came to us except for the bleeding. We heard gibbons! We heard gibbons! We heard gibbons!
We met a Canadian from Saskatchewan in the evening, and were entertained with a giant toad.
Internet is fickle here in the jungle, so I'm not sure when the next post will happen. Marjoribanks says that this is only to be expected, but we must keep a stiff upper.

Tuk-tuk boss? This you first time Bangkok?

I woke suddenly at 6:00 a.m. this morning and, after Faith made it clear that she wasn't quite ready to get up yet, I went out for a walk in the early morning cool. The street outside was almost deserted, except for some ladyboys who were clustered around a derelict old hippy who was sat in the gutter - exactly where we saw himlast night. They were behaving very like kittens with a mother cat, just sitting around him and stroking his hair, putting their arms around his shoulders (which were very bony) and smiling together. He seemed to be happy about it, too. Across the road, the area of Banglamphu leads down to the river by the side of a wat (temple) and I wandered down there among crowds of children going to school, a few monks moving quietly between the temple buildings, noisy cockerels and bewildering bird-sound from the trees. The children were buying street-food from vendors outside the school gate - deep fried fruit, noodles, juice and slush-puppies. By the time I returned to the hotel, Faith was up and we were both ready for our breakfast ... and out into Bangkok.
After I'd dragged Faith over my early morning route (both ladyboys and school children had gone by now), we went down to the river and turned to follow a khlong and narrow alleys to the impressive Rama Bridge. It was a fascinating walk: wooden houses along the khlong-side, bo trees with scarves around them, and shrines at their feet, a fish hung up in abush to try, food satls on every corner, and many, many smiles.
Finally, bathed in sweat, we took an exhilirating river taxi rde to Wat Pho pier to find the Reclining Buddha Temple. I'm afraid to say that we gave in to a "friendly" shop owner (see title) who explained in great detail how to tell good tuk-tuk driver from bad, and "helped" us to get one. We went to see the Temple of the Black Buddha first, which was very interesting (with an old Buddha statue that had been almost black because people kept taking the gold-leaf for luck) and a guide who first told us the stories about the temple and then, yes, you guessed, said how lucky we were to be able to go to see the Siam Export House, today of all days - it's included in your fare, he said helpfully! Well, well, we said, what (or wat?) a surprise. We told the tuk-tuk driver that we'd be a VERY SHORT time in the Export House, "ten minute?" he offered. We were thirty seconds. " No-one ever come here before and buy nothing, " said the smart woman. "We're the first of many," I replied, as we smiled and left. The tuk-tuk driver looked relieved when we came back to him, and whizzed us back to Wat Pho along and across streets, by a khlong and through a market. So, he got his commission for delivering us to the Export House, and we got a scenic tour for only 40 baht (about 55p).
Wat Pho is every bit as impressive as the guidebooks say, and the reclining buddha is gargantuan. Little details pleased, though, as always. There's a school in the temple grounds, and it was brass-band-practice day. The children, were outside practising such fine old Thai tunes as Colonel Bogey and American Patrol. We felt sorry for the girl who was only allowed to play the mouthpiece of a saxophone. Perhaps one day, she'll improve enough enough to merit the rest of it, but it did lend an air of eldritch wildness to Marching through Georgia. We eavesdropped on a temple ceremony where monks in orange robes were chanting as monks are meant to, and then made our way back to Banglamphu through the University - where the students demonstrated for Thai democracy and freedom on a number ovccasions between the 1970s and 1990s. Back at our hotel, an American businessman who was swimming with 2 Thai women yesterday, was looking mightily pleased as he swam with 4 of them today. "I found a fourth for bridge," he said loudly.

First post from the second leg of the journey, and it's from an internet cafe just off Khaosan Road in Bangkok. I have 8 minutes, and counting! So what are the first impressions? Well, it's more like Tangier than Marrakech. Working buildings, glass and steel offices, crumbling concrete tenements that are, nevertheless, attractive, big old cars. There are many trees, and we've just eaten under one of them, a bo tree in the yard of Ranee's restaurant. Here we saw our first long-standing hippy resident, sitting at a table, wearing fisherman's trousers, a striped shirt and fearsome dreads. The Khaosan road is fascinating - very international in many ways. Tomorrow we'll explore; tonight we sleep in the snug wood-lined room in Buddyhotel with the a/c on "high". It's all very amazing!!