In a near forgotten past and in a life before children, there was a young girl who wandered without bags under her eyes but with a bag on her back. Here she returns to notes she made while visiting Thailand back in 1999
Dawn, and the sleepy stillness of Chumphon, a tiny Thai fishing village, is broken. The boat to the island of Ko Tao, slowly moves past the preparing fishermen. Some of them wave over, but most just stare intently from their three tiered blue and white trawlers that are all lined up and gently moving together. Engines chug. The backdrop is that of large honey glazed palms glowing in the morning light.
Locals and backpackers: both
dependent on each other and for this moment, both curious about the other. The
sun salutes all. The backpackers settle into more comfortable positions on the
top of the deck, putting on their imitation sunglasses they picked up for a
pittance on the Khoa San Road. The crews continue to work. The glint of a metal
bucket dangling on a rope reflects in the water it is about to be washed in.
Tanned bodies in brightly coloured sarongs compliment both images. Moving
towards the open Gulf of Thailand, we leave the fishermen to their new
day.
As Ko Tao gets closer, the boat
drifts to a stop. We are dropping some people off on an out-of-reach
mini-haven. There are a series of these; aqua and gold, all complete with a
wood hut. A thin white line connects them: sandbars that will disappear as the
tide comes in. Solitude, now within reach for these lucky few, appears divine.
When the boat touches the so-called Island of
Emotion, Ko-Tao is more than welcoming. Soft sand and clear warm water greet the
few of us getting off here. We are opting out of the next stop, a ‘full moon
party’ destination, for a more natural high. Already it cannot disappoint.
The boat turns back to the flying fish and leaves us
to the waiting utility van. Hanging out the back we wind round to reach the
west coast and a resort named Buddha View. This is a dive school, and not what
I am looking for. For the others though, it is perfect.
I wave, and picking up my dusty pack, begin to walk
the coastal road that has become too steep and narrow for a vehicle. Only
bougainvillea and hibiscus accompany me. Every so often there is a clearing in
the bush, which affords me a view of the beach. The tide leaves a few long-tail
boats behind, scattered elegantly on its puddled yellow floor. I hike further
into the trail seeking a secluded part of this paradise.
I can see it before I reach it. Aptly named
‘Sunset’, it is on a point that juts out into the water. A short man with
smiling delicate features comes forward to greet me as I clamber down onto the
private beach. He appears to be a complete health nut, which is fine by me. I
tell him to wake me in the morning for the three-hour session of yoga and meditation
he is boasting about. Then I rock to sleep in the perfectly positioned hammock.
The next few days are spent in a routine of
exercise from seven ‘til ten, followed by a breakfast called ‘Morning Health’
which costs more than my nightly accommodation. Freshly grated coconut tops
plump raisins and chunks of fresh papaw, watermelon, pineapple and banana. Underneath
this, muesli, cashew nuts, yoghurt and honey delightfully fuse. It is filling
enough to last me through to my evening meal.
Swimming and reading pass the time, and each day
with its four hours of electricity create a charm of their own. I wash my hair
in a basin under the palms and feel more alive than ever. I sit for hours watching the patient fishermen whose baggy trousers billow in the breeze.
The evening meal varies as to what they have caught
throughout the day. Tonight it is red snapper with Thai herbs and spices. I sip on my guava tea and recline on cushions
in the candlelight whilst the water laps beside me and the simplicity
overwhelms.
14 comments:
I love your travel stories - they really transport me to the place you describe. Very beautiful! And guava tea sounds delicious :-)
Thank you so much...
I want to go traveling now. You make it sound heavenly.
Absolutely beautiful and so poignant in light of recent events. Your words are simply lovely #prose4t
Oh so do I! Thanks for commenting Stephanie ;-)
I know, I did think that too. Thanks for your comment ;-)
Beautifully written. Popping over from #Prose4T
Thanks, see you there!
Oh it does sound wonderful. A million miles from dreary November in the bitter north... x
Oh red snapper - that takes me right back to Thailand myself. My absoloute favourite place in the world.
Isn't that the wonderful thing about writing Helen?! x
Ah, then I hope you enjoyed that piece of prose!
I adore your travel writing - it's no wonder you are a journalist. You should write for travel companies - you paint such a wonderful picture with your words. Thanks for linking to Prose for Thought x
Wow Vicky, that is lovely. Thank you. x
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