Koh Tao

Nick Drake’s velvety heartstrings filter in the background as Pete and I chill on the wood balcony of our modest beachside resort. Our bungalow perched right on the beach some 20 metres away, my eyes gaze upwards at the domineering full moon in Scorpio just as Drake’s ‘Pink Moon’ smooths its way into our moment. The moon above just as beautiful as the song affiliated, yellow rather than pink and no less majestic.

We survived that bus ride. Made it to the portside town of Chumphon well before Dawn’s sweaty crack, though it all felt like a throwback to those travelling freakshow days back in 2006 where Rev, Brooks and myself would punish ourselves through a gauntlet of painstaking plane, train and automobile action with rapidfire frequency.
The four English birds we met proved not only to be great value, but they adopted us, willingly or unwillingly, and we latched onto their every move from that point on. We sailed early morning through a canal on a ferry into the Gulf of Thailand, waving at recently woken up fisherman on their orange and olive green wood fishing vessels with massive nets. Thailand has a great vibe about it, and knowing we were about to crash on a magic island beach somewhere, paying sweet nothing for our goods and accommodation, well, I wouldn’t say it warmed the cockles – the cockles have been sweating their arse off as much as the rest of my bits since we got here…but it made me happy on the inside regardless. Pretty sure Pete felt the same. We both smelt pretty rank by this point, and were in desperate need of an internal and external cleanse.

Last night we went out with the girls after an extensive nana nap in our throbbingly warm bungalow. Massive Chang and Tiger beers cost around 50 Baht here, equivalent to $1.20 locknecks if you were drinking back home. We cabbed it in the back of a pick up truck, all six of us, to the base end of the island and dined at a sweet little joint at the turning point of the Mountain-cosied beach cove. Illuminated fairy lights and the glorious sight of the lit up mountain resorts and shops to my left provided one of those moments where you just look deeply into the scenario before and make you thank God you are alive. We hit up the ‘Easy bar’ for Mohitos not long after, followed by a cosy Reggae Bar run by a couple of perpetually baked Rastas, one going by the name ‘Dodo’. He might have been high but he sure wasn’t flying anywhere anytime soon. Long Island Iced Teas are a dubious call anywhere, I feel, and the ones Pete and I downed grounded us both, as we lie on cushioned floor sand lounges under the near-full moon above mere footsteps from beach and sand. It is here that I remind you that today, according to the Age, it reached a blistering 13 degrees in Melbourne with chronic showers and little inspiration to get out of bed either in the morning, or the duration of the afternoon. To be fair, Pete and I failed to experience the morning either, but for far different reasons. After peeling ourselves off the floor of the Reggae Bar we trundled back home, only to find that the 10 minute taxi fare back to our neck of the beach was nowhere to be found. We managed to persude two Thai chicks on Moto Scoooters to take all six of us back in two trips for a couple of bucks each. I gripped on for my life as we plundered through the night, me and ‘Fan’ on one bike, racing old school with Pete and his Thai biker chick. It was surreal, exhilarating, dangerous and most importantly of all, got us home without sustaining any unjury. Jammed with Pete on the balcony and wrote three songs of mixed calibre, ranging from dreadful to seriously, diabolically shite. A local dog came up to join us, so I guess we must have had something going for us.

After working in a backpackers hostel for 2 odd years its kinda nice to be on the other side of the desk. I remember again what its like to carry your life around with you on your back; what its like to watch sunsets on lands so far from your own; the thrill of not knowing what to expect next, and the faith you put in the universe knowing it’s guiding you on the right track to somewhere. This is living, right here. This is the stuff that makes you feel alive.

1 comment:

evs said...

that's some good mosquito splatting camdool.