The boy and his bike- Part 3

So we get home, back to the bungalow. Steph is still crying and I am muttering about my tan- both in shock in hindsight. Luckily, apart from a few bruises and scrapes, I'm OK.

According to Markus (MAN from part 2), mechanics won't repair rental bikes. They have a mutual agreement with rental companies to artificially inflate rental bike repair prices. And they charge lots. No wonder the bike was cheap to rent. Fuckers!

So the next day, I set off, visiting each and every mechanic on the island. I park the bike around the corner or down the road, and take in the broken part. If they can't see the bike, they can't see the rental stickers.

After riding around all morning, asking in bad and broken Thai for a motorcycle part, I am beginning to get desperate. Most say: 'No have' or smile, shake their head and point down the road. They must know, travellers must do this all the time, prang their bike and try to get out of paying crazy repair bills. But I resolve to try just one more.....

A lady is out the front with her 2 small sons. I show her the part, and she phones her partner, the mechanic. He arrives and assesses the bike. Says he can get the part, but will have to order from the mainland. The part takes 4 days because of the weekend.

I arrive on Tuesday . The mechanic fits the part. I tip him and ride directly to the rental company. Pay the rental fee. Walk away feeling 10 foot tall and bulletproof. Believe me, I have never felt so happy to hold my passport.

And then the fat lady sings...... THE END :-)

The boy and the bike- Part 2

I get up. Dazed, with bark off. Bike laying on side. Canadians apologising. Ripped shorts. People looking: Are you OK? Am I OK? Steph crying. Sorry, she says, sorry. Bike broken- 2 footpegs.

MAN appears on bike. Knows mechanic. Follow, he says. Pick up bike. Follow MAN. Steph nervous. Still crying.

MAN talks to mechanic. Mechanic cannot help. Follow MAN further. Mechanic cannot help. MAN apologises. Suggests we get part. Offers use of tools. Gives directions. Disappears.

Steph still crying. Fog beginning to clear. Need to get home and shower, reassess, recuperate....

TO BE CONTINUED....

The boy and the bike- Part 1

Disclaimer: I retain full mental and physical faculties.

The best way to get around Koh Tao is to hire a motorbike, especially if you plan to stay for a while. And at $AU6 per day, it seems silly not to. So we did. We got a bike. No helmets though- they look at you strange and laugh when you ask. But they take your passport- collateral.

So off we go, exploring the roads, tracks and goat trails with our new found toy. And we go fast, more fun to go fast. Time to give myself a dose of white knuckles...... and for a while there I pulled it off, but chance is a fickle mistress.

Cruising up a hill, pick the wrong gear and it won't change up, so I give it shit. We stop half way up. The road is sandy, back brakes don't work, and the front wheel locks up as we begin to slide backwards. Steph bails, saving her ass but unbalancing the bike in the process. I push the bike down and slide backwards down the concrete road.....on my back......with no shirt....

TO BE CONTINUED.......

Koh Tao

The island looms on the horizon, a jewel of green against an aqua-blue carpet. Whispers of the legendary Koh Tao reached my ears a few years ago when a good friend of mine, Marieke, spent 3 months here. I can see why!

Koh Tao is little more than a pindrop in the ocean, 70kms off the mainland in the Gulf of Thailand. We have a small bungalow overlooking Chalok Baan Bay on the south of the island. The pace is so relaxed- no one is in a hurry to do anything. Reminds me of souwest WA- golden beaches and afternoon doctors.

The "Deep South"

Noosa on crack! A full spectrum of tourists: backpackers, honeymooners, retirees.... But no Thai tourists. Says something about the vibe of the place. Fast, loud and arrogantly western.

Ao Nang, on the coast 20kms from Krabi, could be a western resort town anywhere in the world. A bit sad really, like the friendly Thai-ness has been rubbed off to reveal an edgy side- touchy and irritated.

Luckily, the scenery is spectacular, and we head out to dive on one of the limestone monoliths. Among other things, we see a Leopard shark and a Tiger Tailed seahorse, endemic to Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam and The Philippines ...amazing!

One ticket to Thailand, please

Sawasdee! Welcome to the land of smiles and cheap beer! After a local bus, a train, a mini van, plenty of white knuckles and 14 hours, we arrive in Krabi, completely buggered.

Political tension in southern Thailand- complete with automatic weapon touting soldiers- is a little disconcerting. Nearly every trainstation has sandbagged military installations. Scary!

Luckily, our 14 hour mission puts us out of the danger zone, and really close to the magical limestone islands around Ko Phi Phi.....looks like more diving on the cards!

Spice up your life

"You go down to the bottom of the sea, where the water isn't even blue anymore, where the sky is only a memory, and you float there, in the silence".

The Big Blue (1988)

The warm tropical waters of the South China Sea- a perfect environment for an Open Water Diving course. After 4 days and four fantastic dives, Steph and I are certified open water divers.

I really can't believe I have waited this long- it is like opening the door to another world. Thanks to Cindy and the Spice Divers crew for opening the door......

www.spicedivers.com.my

Perhentian paradise

Golden beaches and magnificent blue-green water. Welcome to the Perhentian Islands, one of Malaysia's best kept secrets. Our bungalow sits back from the water atop a small sand dune with panoramic views across the bay... and within a 2 minute stroll, the warm tropical waters of the South China Sea.

Arriving just after the monsoon, the island appears slow and groggy as if waking from a deep slumber. As we laze on the beach drinking tropical fruit shakes and listening to the quiet constant sound of the waves, the trials and tribulations of the past few weeks fade into obscurity and the social leprosy and work menage a trios of the past 6 months begin to pay dividends.

Crazy train

'Crazy train, rolling down that crazy track'- Crazy Train, The Waifs

I'm sure the Waifs wrote this song after this train trip. The Malaysians have dubbed it the 'Jungle train', we believe, to get bums on seats for the cheapest, hottest train ride imaginable. After 12 hours, we have renamed it and given it a new theme song. The crazy train stops at every station along the way- some of them no more than a dirt track disappearing into the jungle.

While waiting at a obscure train station for a faster train to pass us, a train travelling the other way pulled up. It was packed- I mean full to bursting point packed. We though we had a raw deal, but this train made ours look like a limousine. Small, dusty windows, and seats with more foam showing than faux leather. A window falls to the ground and shatters on stones, and heads appear, looking, inspecting, prying. Not sure where the goats and chickens were, but I know they were there, I just know it. Oh the humour of perspective.

The first month

A full cycle of the moon, a calender month, a thousand smiles, amazing sunsets and some fantastic memories. Breaths come slow and deep, a satisfaction that comes from following your dreams. I feel my heart beating, and know that I am alive.

Yes, that's right, its been 30 days since I left the wide brown land. The sails are up; the ship has left the harbour, bound for the wide open ocean.

While many new faces cross my path, my brothers and sisters- you know who you are- are never far from my thoughts and always in my heart. As my path twists away from yours, I thank you for being part of my unforgettable and amazing journey.

Until our paths meet again, remember to dream too high, love too much and live in all the moments given to you. See you on the other side!

(Thanks Jeff!)

T in a bag

Take away never looked so...interesting.

Coffee or tea, hot or cold, served in a plastic bag with a straw. Strange at first, you cautiously cradle it to avoid spillage, but it becomes apparent that it is so much more flexible than a cup.

Makes you want to get a coffee just to get it in a bag... I'm hooked!

White knuckles

The blood drains from the fingers and the skin pulls taunt. Yes that's driving the Asian way.

The current bus driver appears to be unhappy with his current appointment with God, and seeks and earlier one. No matter how many times you take a bus, taxi, moto or tuk-tuk, white knuckles appear to come standard.

But seriously, overtaking up a hill around a blind corner isn't cool, its downright scary. Motorcycles weave between cars, trucks and buses, carrying 2, 3, or even 4 passengers- none wearing helmets. All this occurs with the calm confidence of a Tibetan Buddhist- practical Zen if I even saw it.

Taman Negara

Ah, the sweet, slow flow of the river! Entranced by the rustle of leaves and birdsong, Steph and I "check out" for 2 days- no treks, no jungle safaris, no 'activities' of any sort.

We stay at the Durian Chalets, around 1km from the town of Kuala Tahan and just across the river from the national park. Durian fruit are well known in the Asian subcontinent for their pungent smell, but luckily the name was the only similarity our accomodation had with the fruit.

Our chalet is set well back from the main reception building, secluded behind trees and nestled on the side of a hill. The front verandah affords sweeping views across the valley below. At night, cool jungle sounds serenade us to sleep...Magickal! But 2 days of sloth spur us into action, and we manage to fill our other days at Taman Negara. Spotlighting yields a wealth of animal activity, including Leopard and Ceveat cats, a Slow Loris, squirrels and a cacophany of birds.

On our final day, we decide to check out some caves and a canopy walk. A combination of heat, humidity and extreme terrain make these some of the most challenging I have ever encountered. Scrambling up deep ravines and across huge tangles of roots systems that look more like gargantuan spider webs than tree foundations, we arrive at the caves after more than 2 hours of walking.

A quick check reveals no torch- not good for caving. After shuddering at the thought of exploring caves, Steph is somewhat pleased- no torch = no caves. I refuse to concede, and dive into the cave entrance, hoping to use my camera flash as a proxy torch. After around 20 metres, the cave gets really dark and terrain and water makes using the camera impractical. Up ahead in the darkness, I see torches and hear voices......my ears strain to hear what language they speak. I call out and they are able to guide me with their torches- cool, I didn't want to wreck my camera or turn around. I scramble with the anonymous cavers through a couple of caverns until we reach the main chamber- and are welcomed by hundreds of bats hanging only metres from our heads. After a discussion of the pros and cons of taking a photo, we decide that the prospect of hundreds of bats swarming around our heads isn't worth it. We push on through the cave, before eyeing the exit- a tight squeeze with a water feature before the hole. Negotiating the water feature, we successfully emerge from the bowels of the earth. Matt and Kate, the anonymous cavers, are quite impressed that I attempted caving without a torch and in crocs, nonetheless.

In the afternoon, Steph and I negotiate the canopy walk and Teresek Hill. The canopy walk is touted as the highest in the world, and the 'holy' walkways and swinging rope bridges certainly make you feel more than a little uneasy. After some great views and wonky photos, we set off around the Teresek Hill walk- around 5km in all. In 15 minutes, we agreed that Teresek Hill should be called a mountain, and after that, the conversation receded to essentials only. Legs burn and sweat pours out- feels like an extended boot camp. I retreat to the quiet place, eyes looking down and straight ahead, only the goal in mind.

We reach the "hill" and the views are fantastic. The river snakes through the valleys, skirted by imposing green mountains. The jungle of Taman Negara streches out as far as the eye can see. We descend quickly, quietly, looking forward to the cool waters of the rivers to revitalise. Sure are going to sleep well tonight.

Country roads....

The alarm clock sounds its urgent call, echoing off the walls of our concrete box... After just 3 days in KL, it is time once again to hit the road. This morning, we head to Taman Negara, a national park in the central highlands of Malaysia. The Chinese New Year celebrations were a no-show, with the streets eerily quiet and deserted- no dancing dragons, no firecrackers, a bit disappointing really.

Even this morning it is quiet, and (gasp!) the taxis are few and far between. But the wait is not too long, and within a few minutes, we are careering across the city in brightly coloured Malaysian "teksi". Changing to a bus, we head east from the city into the mountains. The highest peaks are draped in white fluffy clouds, making the precipices appear to pierce the heavens. The sun sits high already, contrasting against a perfect blue backdrop. It feels so good to be alive, heading into nature again.

We arrive at Kuala Tembling in record time- just on 3 hours, and organise our boat ride into Taman Negara, The rickety wooden boat looks somewhat concerning and the deep brown river water courses past angrily, but throwing caution to the wind, we board anyway. So begins our idyllic entrance into Taman Negara.

Taman Negara is a high altitude rainforest sprawling over 4343 sq.km. Protected from poachers and development, hopes are high for a glimpse of an iconic jungle animal- perhaps a tiger or an elephant.....Maybe that's a bit over-enthusiastic. Probably be stoked to see a monkey.