Koh Tao

Koh Tao Thailand is known for one thing: some of the cheapest SCUBA diving in the world.

It also helps that it also happens to be a tropical island paradise in the middle of the Gulf of Thailand, so combine that with cheap SCUBA diving, and you have Koh Tao.


I arrived to Koh Tao the afternoon after the Full Moon party. So unless you count the hour or so nap that I took on someone's porch, I hadn't slept in quite some time.


I get off of the boat and grab a taxi to the main Koh Tao beach. There are hundreds and hundreds of dive shops on this tiny island. Some are cheaper than others. Some offer accommodation, and others do not. So after shopping around for half an hour, I was afraid my body was going to give up on me.

Completely exhausted, I stumble into a big dive shop called Ban's Diving Resort.


For the 4 day PADI open water certification, including 4 nights accommodation, it was 9,000 baht ($300ish).


The lady at the reception asked me if I wanted to start tonight, or the following night.

I told her that if I started tonight, I would bring a pillow and sleep at the bottom of the ocean.

Seeing that she didn't have a clue as to what I was saying, I told her I'd rather start the next night.


They put me in a 15 bed dorm room, but I had the whole place to myself.

I went to bed early and slept 12 hours.


Waking up refreshed the next day, I decided to go check out the island before starting the first class.


So grabbing a map and walking south along the coast, I would stop to drink water and jump in the crystal clear blue-ish green water.

At one point, I came across a sign written in awfully translated English. From what I understood, it was telling people that the secluded beach down the path was private. In order to access the beach, they wanted toursists to purchase a ticket from the hotel lobby. The after a whole bunch more confusing English grammer, the last phrase says that the beach is non-paying. Thouroughly confused, I decided that beaches weren't allowed to charge me to use their sand, and I walked through some extremely fancy resort, all the way to their "exclusive" beach.

I layed down my sarong towel, and posted up on top of a sort of sun-roof thing. No one asked me for any money. Victorious and vindicated, I stayed there a few hours, alternating between reading my Napoleon Bonaparte biography and taking a sweet dip in the water.


Man, do the rich know how to live.

After leaving the private beach wonderland, I started to head back to my resort.

Except, I was feeling adventurous and stupid, so instead of backtracking, I thought "I'm sure I can just go around this huge cliff thing."


So instead of the 45 minutes it took me to get to the beach, I got completely lost and it took me 3 hours to make it back.

At one point, sweating profusely on jungle cliffs and completely out of water, I was sure I was gonna die of exposure.

Then I reached a dead-end. It was a 12 foot tall bamboo fence. Through the tiny slits I could see a private villa on the other side. I think a raccoon had made a tiny hole at the bottom of one of the bamboo poles so, running out of options, I squeezed my whole body through this opening and made it into this uber private backyard of some cliff-front mansion. Realizing I was trespassing, I walked up the path to the front gate, nodded at the gardener, and finally made it back to the main road.


My phone died and therefore I have no pictures of this epic adventure. I was so dehydrated and hot that I'm no longer even sure any of this actually happened.


That first night of SCUBA training was just to introduce the 3 instructors (Steve, some Irish dude who's name I completely forgot and a Canadian chick) and watch a 2 hour video of the first two chapters. Both male instructors were extremely experienced and had been teaching for over 15 years. The woman instructor was brand new. They were being assisted by 2 "divemasters" who are pretty much instructors in training.


The dorm room I was in, previously empty, was now jam-packed with the people from my class. It was easy to make friends, because we were all together, all day. None of us went out to party the nights before we had class, because alcohol and SCUBA diving don't mix well. In fact the 2 rules the instructors told us on the first night were:

1. No buckets

2. No speedos


Diving has a buddy system. So very early on, each person needs to be paired up with a "buddy" and those two people are supposed to be within arms reach of each other at all times when in the water. They also serve as the person who conducts your equipment check before entering the water.


My buddy was Steve, an awesome canadian dude who was on a South-East asia tour for about a month. We drank a Big Chang or two after every dive.

The second day we had class in the morning, with super easy dive exams. Then in the afternoon, we geared up for the first time and went diving in the pool, to practice our skills.


Skills involve things that are likely to happen to a diver under water. Some of these skills involved, taking the mouthpiece out of our mouths, and replacing it with your buddy's emergency "octopus" mouthpiece, or completely removing our mask underwater, replacing it and clearing the water from it. We also had to practice fake "out-of air" scenarios and how to do controlled emergency ascents to the surface.


As open water certified divers, we would be able to dive to 18m or 59 ft. The theory being, if you can do these skills in a pool only 10 feet deep, it should be the same thing at 59 feet. And it was, for most of us...


After successfully completing the pool day, we were all anxiously awaiting the next day so we could do the first 2 of our 4 open water dives!


I asked one of the dive masters if we'd be seeing any sharks.

He said no, for 2 reasons. The first one is that most sharks are spooked by the air bubbles coming out of our mouths from SCUBA diving, and so tend to stay away. The second, and more important reason is that due to the practice of shark finning (for shark fin soup) there are practically no sharks left in the area.


Shark finning is simple. Boats bait sharks, catch them, cut off their fins and then throw the live, bloody sharks back in the water. They can't swim without fins, and they're losing blood, so they die a horrible painful death. This is all because in asia Shark-fin soup is considered a delicacy. Our instructors told us that over 10 million sharks each year are killed this way.


I asked the dive-master what the best way for me to see a shark was.

He told me that on the southern most tip of the island, there is a place called shark bay.

One can snorkle out there from the shore and usually see many of them.

"But," he added, "they only feed at dawn or dusk, so if you want to see some, be there around 6am before sunrise."


I was determined to see a shark. I tried to recruit people from my class to come with me. Everyone said no. Some claimed it was because I was going to get up at 5am.

A guy in our dorm who had been living on the island for over a month told me that it was really hard to find and that it took about 45 minutes on foot to get there.


So I set my alarm for 5am. Waking up, I grab my bag with my underwater camera, mask and snorkel and start jogging to shark bay.


I don't jog. I'm not a jogger. But this was kind of nice, because the temperature was cool.

Jogging past a nightclub packed with party people still partying I thoiught, "What a bunch of idiots, I'm gonna go swim with sharks and they're still up partying."


I had to remind myself that just 2 days earlier, I was the one partying till 8am. I convinced myself it wasn't the same, and kept going.


I found shark bay without any difficulties, and it was much closer than the 45 minutes I expected.

But here, I encountered 3 problems.

1. Since I got there so early, it was still completely pitch black, long before sunrise.

2. Shark bay was not a beach like I expected, but instead sharp slick rocks that gave way to very turbulent waters.

3. The third reason is maybe the most important, it was creepy as f$%&!


Holy s%$t. When I got there, at 5:25am, pitch darkness, all alone, getting to a place called shark point that is infested with animals we have been brainwashed to fear, I couldn't help but get nervous and scared.

I realize you can't see anything...that's the point. It's the picture I took when I arrived to Shark bay.

So I jump, in total darkness, from rock to rock, until I reach the further-most rock. Then I sat down and stared at the waves hit the rocks. The water looked black. And silver, from the sliver of moon that was in the night sky. Every time a wave broke the surface, I was convinced it was a huge man-eating shark.


Then I started reasoning with myself: "Paul, it's not that you're scared, no. You shouldn't go in there because of the current. Yeah the current. Look at those waves. Even if the current doesn't carry you out to open water, the waves will slam you onto the sharp rocks. Yeah that's it, the rocks and the current"


I started to believe myself. "You can get hurt and then you won't even be able to SCUBA dive this afternoon. It's not worth it, go home."


Satisfied that the reason for which I was turning around wasn't because I was afraid of swimming in dark, shark infested waters, I started to pack my bag.


There really is no reason to be courageous when there's no one around to see you do the courageous act.


As I'm packing my bag, my Zune mp3 player falls out and onto my foot.

Then, in a surge of adrenaline, I stick the ear-buds in and start blasting the songs Lose Yourself and Till I Collapse by Eminem.


So there I am, 6am, pacing back in forth on this little rock, waving my hands like a maniac trying to pump myself up to jump into the water. I even put my flippers and mask on. Right as the sun is rising, I have nearly pumped myself up enough to jump into the water.

At this point I'm hysterical, "I'll punch every shark in the face, if they try to come at me!" I scream, quoting Dane Cook.


The songs end, and I am still hesitant. Then on another rock, about 100 feet away, I see a man. He is staring curiously at me, trying to figure out what the hell my problem was, pacing back and forth in flippers and yelling at the water.


So I jump. SPLASH!


Panicking and doggy paddling like an idiot, I started swimming as fast as I could.

Within minutes I was surrounded by 3 sharks!


Actually, no I wasn't. Not even close. The water was so rough that day, that the visibility under water was maybe 2 feet. At most. That means that when I extended my arms out in front of my head, I could barely see my finger tips. So, I swam around for 25 minutes and didn't see anything except for the occasional fish. But this actually made it somewhat scarier because I was just swimming blind.


After a while, I decided I had had enough, and went back to my rock.

I had failed at sharks and at life.

Disappointed, I walked back to the hotel with my tail between my legs.

DIVING

That afternoon was awesome.


We went out on a dive boat to some coral reef a few minutes away from the island.

After doing our buddy check, we all entered the water.

The plan was (to drink until the pain's over, but what's worse, the pain or the hangover?), to descend to 40 feet, and once at the bottom, we would do a couple skills.


When descending, the pressure increases dramatically. But the only place you can really feel it is your ears. So as the pressure increases, it is important to equalize, similar to what one would do on an airplane. Some people had a lot of trouble with this, and so it took about 10 minutes for everybody to get to the bottom.


I had been there sitting at the bottom of the ocean floor for about 10 minutes, watching the beautiful colorful fish going by.

Once we all made it, the instructors and 2 divemasters made us get in a big circle.
They all went to each of us, one by one and had us take out our mouthpieces and ask our buddy for theirs.

Now, the average person could very easily hold their breath for over 30 seconds...

Unless panic sets in, at which point, the logical part of the brain shuts down and instinct takes over. Problem is, human instinct doesn't work under water since, you know, we live on land with air and stuff.

My Buddy Steve and I are last in the circle. So as I'm watching everyone do their skills, I was witness to something terrifying.

One of the girls from our class, is standing on the ocean floor directly in front of me.
The female instructor with very little experience, approaches her and does the hand signal for her to take out her mouthpiece regulator and borrow her buddy's.
The student takes the regulator out of her mouth, and then instead of calmly asking her buddy for his, panic sets in.

Her eyes grow WIDE and she immediately starts flailing her arms.

"No problem" I think, "the instructor is literally right there with her, holding her."
Except the student is now drowning.

And when a person is drowning, everything they do is counter productive.
So as the instructor is trying to get the student's regulator back in her mouth, the student rips off her mask.

Then, since the instructor is trying to jam the regulator in her closed mouth, the student panics and punches the instructor!

Now the instructor's mask is off too!
We are 40 feet (12 meters) under water at this point!

The instructor is now starting to lose control, and though not panicking entirely, she is no help at all to the drowning girl.

One of the dive masters, was nearby and quickly swims over to help.


At this point, all of this has happened in about 5 seconds.


Realizing that there are now 0 instructors helping the student, I turn to the Irish instructor teaching the guys next to me, tap his shoulder and point to the mayhem.

His eyes grow wide with concern as he rockets over to the student.

As she is trying with all her might to swim to the surface, the divemaster is pulling her down.

The student, a classic drowning victim, has completely jammed her jaws shut.

The divemaster is trying with all his strength to pry the girl's jaw open with his hands, but she won't budge.

Watching all of this, I remember thinking "Wow, I'm actually going to see someone drown and die before my very eyes, and there is nothing I can do about it."

The experienced Irish instructor, knows exactly what to do.
The second he gets to the student, he punches her hard in the stomach.

Instinctively, the punch knocks the wind out of her and forces her to open her mouth, and the instructor jams her regulator mouthpiece back in, and swims her up.

The entire thing probably lasted 10 seconds, but my god, I felt like I had just watched a 2 hour movie.

I somehow ended up with one of the girl's flippers.
All of the students awkwardly stayed at the bottom of the ocean, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes, the instructors and divemasters return, give us the "OK" sign and we go on our first dive.

The two dives that day were certainly amazing and beautiful, but the drowning story kind of overshadows all of it.

The next day, diving was even better. We went all the way down to 59 feet (18 meters) and saw all sorts of marine life. Though not certified to go cave diving, our instructor was badass and took us through one anyways. Diving in caves is incredible. Feels like you're floating through a house.

The night of the second dive day, we had completed all 4 dives! We had our graduation celebration by watching a video of us all diving and getting drinks.

That night, we did have buckets. No speedos.

There are fire performers everywhere on the Thai islands, and though impressive, I think the young kids in training are even better.

I now had a couple extra days to lay back and enjoy the island before meeting with my aunt, uncle and cousins in the Khao Sok national park.

One of the dudes from our dorm, Kirk, knew of an abandoned resort on the east side of the island.

Pretty much, someone built this huge great resort on the deserted side of the island and built this road to it. The road goes up a huge mountain/hill thing before coming down on the resort.

One day, it rained. A lot. And the washoff caused by the rain completely destroyed the road. The price to rebuild the road, was more than the price to rebuild the resort. So it was abandoned.

They made the best nutella banana crepes on the island. I must have eaten 2 a day. Erday.

You can't tell because the person taking the picture sucked, but we're riding a very funny rocking horse.

While on the island, the winter olympics were happening. And, I don't know why, but Koh Tao was absolutely filled with nothing but Canadians and Swedes. When America played Canada in the semi-finals I lost 2,500 baht betting on the game. You broke my heart team America.

It was fun though, seeing the Swedes and the Canadians yell back and forth at the TV when they played each other in the finals.

I saw a funny shirt a Canadian was wearing that said "Dear Sweden, your women are beautiful but your hockey team sucks. Sorry, Canada."

It's funny because Canadians are even polite when they're trash talking!

On our last day with everyone from the class still there, we wanted to rent kayaks and paddle to an awesome island with a land bridge.

Half of the people opted for the boat taxi option, while the other half (including myself) were absolute retards and decided that it was close enough to kayak.

Well the trip there wasn't aweful, we were paddling with the current and it only took us about 35 minutes to get there.

Landing on the island, completely exhausted, we were approached by an offiial looking Thai man. He said it cost 100 baht to come on the island. I looked at him, angry, exhausted and slightly seasick from the kayak and glared at him.

I said "No."

He looks at me, completely confused, stutters and asks "Uh why? Yes 100 baht."

I say "No, I don't have money." I leave my kayak parked on the beach in front of him and walk away.

Unfortunately not only did I not bring money, but I also didn't bring a camera. So the only pictures I have of that day are the ones that people I was with posted online.

The very first picture on this blog, with me on top of a mountain looking down at an awesome island, is also from that day.

The kayak ride back nearly killed me.

I'm not exhagerating.

For some idiotic reason, we all left for the island at around 11am, between breakfast and lunch.

I didn't eat breakfast.

And I had no money on the island to buy lunch.

So when we left at 4, I was running on fumes.

It took me about 1.5 hours to get back.

Halfway there, I was starting to get lightheaded and actually stopped on some jagged rocks.

Whu\ile I was catching my breath and trying not to pass out and drown, these crabs kept taunting me with there crab ways.

I actually tried to kill one to eat it, fresh Sushi style, but those suckers are fast and the rocks are slippery.

Tapping into some superhuman survival factor, I somehow made it back to the beach, drug my kayak onto the sand and fell flat on my face into the sand like the do in the movies.

I woke up 10 minutes later, feeling hungry.

After eating a burger, some pad thai, a whole pizza and a nutella banana pancake, I felt normal again.

After 2 months of traveling alone, I was going to meet up with some of my mom's side of the family who coincidentaly happeend to be on a family vacation in Thailand while I was there. Then, Jabo would meet up with us and him and I would go on a 4 country Asian tour.

Remember the 4 D's of Koh Tao:

Diving

Drowning

DeezNuts

and Buckets

Koh Phagnan Tattoo

*

Koh Phagnan

After a short 1 hour flight, I touched down in Surat Thani, the closest airport to the boats that go to Koh Samui, Koh Phagnan, and Koh Tao.

I purchased a bus/boat combo ticket at the airport, which would get me to Koh Phagnan by that same afternoon.

When I got in line to get on the boat, I reached in my pockets for my boat ticket.
Wasn't in my left pocket.
No big deal, it's probably in my right one.
Nope.

I had already passed the ticket counter long ago and they had said that the boat was full. Sold out.

So even though I had a ticket, I lost it, and they would not have let me buy another.

I had to get on that island. So I went into stealth mode.

Being inconspicuous by the way, is quite difficult when I tower above the locals, am white, and have a huge green backpack on.

I quickly assessed the situation and looked ahead to the security guards at the front of the line that were checking everyone's ticket.
There's no way I could sneak past them.
So my best option was to not be sneaky.

I calmly stepped out of line, and walked past the 30 or so people in front of me.

Tourists were giving me dirty looks, because they thought I had the balls to cut in line. Cutting in line is for communists and fat people.

Instead, as I approached the security guards, one of them saw me and made eye contact. I never slowed my walk, nodded at him while staring him in the eyes, then looked forward and walked right past him and his guard friend.

Once in the ship, I calmly turned a corner, and as soon as I was out of sight, I immediately sprinted up some stairs, hid my backpack in a corner, and sat down quietly.

After a few minutes, once it became obvious that no one was chasing me, I got thirsty.

I went up to the food counter to buy a coke, I reach in my wallet, and pull out....my boat ticket.

Oh well, I guess my sneakiness skills will come in handy one day. They already have on several occasions, like sneaking in to Six Flags or The Louvre.

Pulling into Koh Phagnan, I managed to snap a sweet picture of the island through a small window.

One of the first things you see getting on the island, is an official government sign informing you that pretty much, chances are that you will get roofied. Jokes on them, I've been roofying myself for years, just to build up a tolerance. Kids, don't try this at home, it doesn't work and I have no recollection of 2010.

The reason I wanted to go to Koh Phagnan, is for the famous full moon party. Legend has it that sometime in the late 80's or early 90's, a small group of friends had a small little get together on Haad Rin beach during the full moon one night. They had a lot of fun, so they decided to meet back up in one month for the same thing.

Each friend brought a buddy or two the next time and they all had a small, good time. Then, as with all good things, word got out.

You know when your parents were out of town over the summer or in high school and you thought "I'll just have a couple people over" but those people ended up bringing friends and next thing you know your mom's antique lamp is shattered?

That's kinda how this is. Every month, for the full moon, people from all over the world come to this beach to party. They expect anywhere between 30,000 and 60,000 people. For the full moon I went to, February 15th, it was around 45,000 strong.

But that wasn't until 6 nights from now. So I had time to explore the island.

Koh Phagnan island is quite big, and because of all the money that the full-moon party brings in, mostly all of the roads are legit concrete paved.

I rented a scooter from the massage/guesthouse ladies (the same bungalows where I was staying) for 6 days for 130 Baht a day ($4.50) and used this to explorify the island.

On my second day, I ate breakfast at a beach-side restaurant run by an Australian guy (or British? I still can't tell accents apart) who told me where  the best beaches on the island were.

"Koh Ma beach is the best snorkeling in Thailand" he claimed, "but my favorite beach on the island is the secluded Haad Than Sadet beach."

He showed me both places on a map and I saw that there  was an access road leading to the secluded beach.

"Sweet  I can just ride my scooter there" I exclaimed.
"How good are you on the bike?" British/Australian man asked.
"Uhhh, what? I mean I'm comfortable on a scooter, what do you mean, 'good'? Like, I can't do tricks or anything." I replied.
"No, no, nothing like that. Just the road is quite dangerous around the end. But if you know how to ride, you'll be fine." he warned.

*I don't know how to ride, I'm just a dumb poor little white boy who is on an island vacation.*

I first went to the snorkeling beach. My god was he right! From the shore I barely had to swim out at all and I encountered huge coral reefs with so many different fish. All sorts of awesome colors and, diving about 15 feet to see what was under this huge rock, the biggest  ugliest fish scared the shit out of me. This thing was close to my size and had a fat gaping ugly mouth that just stared at  me, as if contemplating whether or not is would try to eat my foot. I will come back with dynamite and hunt it, Crocodile Dundee style.

Side story: I'm writing this after eating breakfast at some restaurant on the island. There is  a dude sitting at the table next to me that will NOT STOP SNORTING AND HAWKING LOOGIES IN HIS THROAT. It's horrifyingly disturbing and  the guttural sounds are making me physically ill. He is a short, out of shape middle-aged white guy. His beach blond shoulder length hair, does not hide the fact that  it is thinning and he is mostly bald. To top it all off, he is wearing a Steve Jobs tank top, that has the year of his birth and death. I HATE THIS MAN.
Update: The guy must be psychic because he left literally the instant I finished writing this paragraph.

The next day, after checking out a waterfall that was almost completely dry (but offered a great view of the island), I headed towards the "hard to access secluded beach."

The first 15 minutes included going up and down paved hills. Didn't seem so dangerous. Then the road became half-paved. There would be stretches of pavement inter-connected with gravel roads. Alright, not the best roads but not too dangerous.
Then the road became  completely dirt, for about 5 minutes. I just went slower, no problem.
Then the sand came. If you don't know, when riding any type of two wheeled vehicle in sand, if you hit the breaks, the wheels lock and the bike almost immediately turns sideways and falls. Never brake on sand.

I get to the top of a dirt hill. I slow down. Looking down, I can tell that the downward slope of this verrry steep hill, is entirely made of sand. Not only that, but rainwater runoff had engraved deep trenches in the road, littering it with miniature canyons and random deep potholes. There are a couple bikes parked at the top of this hill, where I have now  stopped.

I assess the road. It looks bad. Very bad. I know that if I hit the brakes at any moment, I'll crash. I know I'm not good enough on a scooter to take on this traitorous hill.
"Maybe the hill looks worse  than it actually is, in which case you could do it!" whispered the devil sitting on my shoulder.
I ignored the thought and parked my scooter, shutting off  the engine.

Before I even had time to get off  of the bike, I hear the engine noise of another scooter. I look down, and coming up that same hill, is the oldest/fattest Thai  woman I have ever seen. She effortlessly navigates up the hill and cruises on past me.

My man-pride exploded in a rage fueled furry!
If this woman can do it, so can I!!!!

I start the engine, and go down the hill.
About  3 feet into the descent, I immediately regretted my decision. I was gaining wayyyyy too much speed.
I wasn't even 1/4 of the way down that I was already going faster than I could handle. I saw the sharp turn at the bottom on the hill and knew I would never make it and would just crash and burn into the corner going a million km/hr.
I had to slow down.
So I tapped the brakes. In sand.
My wheels immediately locked themselves and the front wheel got caught in a pothole. The bike fell and I was thrown over the handle bars, down the hill.
Tucking and rolling like an action hero superstar, I picked myself up at the bottom of the hill. I was fine, just some road burn on my knees, elbow and back, but nothing bad. The screen on my phone shattered, doe.

So many people crash their bikes or get burned on exhaust pipes that, in the region, that's called a Koh Phagnan tattoo.

I walked back up to my bike, the front plastic end had shattered off of the bike and the side view mirror was broken. The right side blinker also shattered off and was hanging off the side by a wire. Plus the whole bike was deeply scratched.

This severely pissed me off , because in Thailand, when you rent a scooter  and bring it back even slightly dinged up, the owners claim it as totaled and make you pay $500 or more dollars so they can "buy a new one." Which is total bullshit. All they do is take it to the local Thai repair shop, who fixes it up for them for $10 and then they just keep on renting it out to idiot tourists like myself. But the local repair shops won't accept a broken bike from a foreigner, and would instead just call the owners (it's a small island.)

At the top of the hill, a girl who just saw me crash decided against trying to go down the hill herself.
I told her that I crashed to save her life. Had I not crashed, she would have gone down the hill and broken her neck.
Paul crashed so you could live.

I picked up the pieces of the motorbike, drove it back up the hill, and parked it next to the girl. Turns out I was bleeding much more than I thought, so she got worried and asked me if I needed help. That's when I ripped off my shirt, revealing my superman costume  underneath. I swooped her up in my arms and flew her to the moon.
Or.... we both walked down hill for about 15 minutes until we reached the ocean. The dude from  the restaurant was right, the beach was indeed beautiful. But I'm not sure it was worth the hassle.

I went and disinfected myself in the ocean, and then hung out with  her and her  friends the rest of the afternoon. I drove back that night, with the scooter pieces in my backpack.

I parked my scooter a couple hotels down from mine so that the owners wouldn't see it.

The next morning, I went to the supermarket and bought super glue. I then drove the scooter up to a very secluded part of the mountain were I started to artfully put it back  together.
I had just gotten all of it glued back on, when a local on a motorbike parked beside me and asked what I was doing. Shit.
The bike still definitely looked like it was crashed, and I was covered in newly formed wounds and was holding a sideview mirror in my hand.

I start compulsively lying about someone stealing my bike at a 7-11, and how the thief crashed my bike as I was chasing him. My story made no sense.

The dude, is  confused. He gets off the motorbike and asks me if I crashed. Then immediately asks  if I rented the bike. Before I can answer, he's asking me where I rented it from.

I say I didn't crash and stick to the crazy theft story. He then points to my knees and elbow wounds.
Damn it, what is this guy, Sherlock F#$%*NG Holmes?!

He starts telling me how expensive all the repairs are going to be and the exorbitant amount my rental people are going to charge me. At this point I'm tempted to grab this small dude, throw him into the jungle, and speed off on my super-glued bike.

Then he says this: "Thai people are greedy pigs that will try and get all of your money. These people are screwing all of you tourists. They don't even fix the bike, they just steal your money!"

Okay now I'm confused.

He wasn't a local at all, just looked like one. He was from Burma and was working on the island for an American as a fix-it man / errand boy. He must have had a few bad experiences with Thais, because he had some sort of vendetta against them. For the record, the Thai have been nothing but incredibly nice  and welcoming to me. He tells me he tries to help tourists who have crashed heir bikes.

I follow him up to his workshop. I show him my super-glue job. He's impressed. He then  started sanding the black parts of my scratched up scooter with a piece of broken glass. Once smooth, he rubs black grease on it. It looks good, and only upon close inspection could anyone see the marks.

However, the red plastic is completely screwed and very visible. He says that there is an identical shade of red available in spray paint at the local hardware stores. I thank him profusely. He tells me I have to sand down the plastic before repainting it.

Then, he tells me to follow him the hardware store. After going to three separate ones, no one seems to have that shade of red. He tells me that on the island, all red bikes are that particular shade and that they hide that shade from foreigners. Since I was at the stores with him, they claimed that they didn't have it. So he tells me to  wait for him at this intersection.
He comes  back 5 minutes later with the red chrome color.

We then spent the entire afternoon together.

Once we're done with the bike, it doesn't look awful.
I mean, if you looked at it up close, it was obvious that it had been crashed. I tried to pay this man.

He refused any payment. I had to force him to accept reimbursement for the spray paint he paid for.

I was about to leave, when he asks me if I want "crazy coffee."
Now, my new friend did not speak the best English, so we had a little trouble understanding each other.
But from the grin on his face, I assumed this was no regular coffee.

I politely declined, as I tried to learn what exactly was in his coffee.

He said he wanted to show me.
The leaf is called Kratom.
He told me all about it, and I later looked it up on Wikipedia.
Pretty much, it's morphine.
Thai people have been casually chewing this for centuries. It can either be chewed, or mixed with coffee or milk.

So as he gave me a coca cola to drink, I watched him grab dried leaves of Kratom. He then ground them into a fine powder.
Putting the powdered leaves in a strainer, he let it marinate in coffee for a few minutes.

Then, while he drank his morphine concoction, he told me all about his crazy life.
Having had to flee Burma at a very young age, him and his sister walked all the way to Thailand while getting shot at from helicopters.
He had grew up in Thailand, which is why the locals thought he was Thai.

All I know is he helped me, was a genuinely nice person, and helped me avoid hundreds of dollars worth of repairs.

Here are some of the biggest shrimp I've ever seen. I put a coin the size of a quarter for reference.

Everywhere on the beach, there are tiny little balls of sand rolled up by small crabs. As you walk towards them, they scurry across the sand and disappear into their hole.
However, simply wait long enough with a camera outside their hole, and they will greet you. I called him CrabMan James, LobsterMan Jones's cousin.

I somehow discovered that the best Thai food on the island, is at the local Muay Thai gym. Absolutely delicious, with virtually no waiting time. One of the local fighters explained to me that this was because fighters must eat good food, they must eat it fast, and they must eat t quickly. So ate there 4 nights in a row, watching them train while I had delicious Pad Thai.

Typos are plentiful in Asia, and that's how this place came to serve French Fires with most of their Western meals.
Homemade French Fires, the most dangerous kind to have with a burger.

One of the nights, I went to a May Thai fight with a dude from the gym.
The fights were awesome, but something strange happened before the start of the first fight. A man, dressed in full Muay Thai attire, came out and started dancing. What made it weird was that the guy had Down's Syndrome and that he was dancing to Gangnam Style.
The locals in attendance where laughing, either with him, or at him. Then at the end of his dance, the tourists all gave him huge tips, probably more money than the fighters make.


Also, once the fishermen catch the thousands of squid with their green lights at night, a popular way the locals like to eat them, is dried. Almost like squid jerkey. I found one of the places where they were drying the squid.

-------------------------------------------

I met back up with the girl from Florida that went bungee jumping with me in Thailand. It was awesome because I got to meet the people she was currently traveling with, so just like that, I met a solid group of people from the UK.

The night of the full moon party, I only had one thing to do before I was ready to rage...return my scooter.

You see, I had been parking my scooter at the bar next door to where I was staying. I didn't want the ladies from my hotel to see the damage before I could execute my plan.

Since I rented the bike from the same hotel where I was staying, they didn't take my passport as collateral. That's the most important aspect, without this detail, my plan could not have worked.

Technically, since they didn't have anything of mine as collateral, not my passport and no credit card, I could simply have ditched the scooter in the forest somewhere and disappeared. But nooooo, I've been cursed with a conscience, so I felt compelled to return the bike.

However, there was no way in hell I was gonna pay the 15,000 baht ($500) I "owed."

I wait for the sun to set, so that I can return the scooter under cover of darkness.

I asked one of the English guys if he could come pick me up on his scooter in exactly 5 minutes.

I pull off to the side of the road, and cover my scooter in sand.

Then I ride up to my hotel, and say hello to the two smiling ladies.

"We no see you last few days, you like island? You party?" They ask joyfully.
"Yeah it's great, just returning my scooter, then off to the full moon party..." I reply sheepishly.

I park my scooter in front of their balcony, and start to walk away.
One of the two women comes up to the bike with a wet rag and wipes some of the sand off of a small portion.

She jumps up in anger, "YOU CRASH!!"
I stop in my tracks, freeze, and turn around to face her wrath.
I stare at her innocently, throw my hands to my side and in a high pitched voice I say, "Whaaaaaaat, nooooooo?!"

"Yes, yes!! You crash! You pay!" she yells at me.

Now the funny thing is, she only uncovered maybe 1/10th of the damage. And she wanted to charge me 4000 baht!

I was wearing swim shorts and a tank top, my full moon attire. I didn't have 4000 baht on me.
Eventually, she would uncover all of the damage and charge me the "full" amount, which judging from what she was charging for the small scratch she found, would be absolutely insane. I had to disappear before she saw it all.

I tell her I only have 1,500 baht on me and that I would pay the rest in the morning after the party, before I checked out.

She thinks about this for a second. Just then, my British friend Adam pulls up on his scooter to come pick me up. Right on time.

"Got to go, my friend's here" I say, "I'll see you later!"
I start walking towards him.
"You still stay here one more night, you pay in morning?! You no disappear in middle of night!"

I flash a big smile and in the greasiest voice ever I say "Come onnnnn"

You may be wondering, "But Paul, didn't she just charge you when you went back to pick up your things in the morning?"

That was the ultimate part of the plan.
I had foreseen all of this happening, and so before I even returned the scooter, I had completely emptied my room and moved all of my bags into my friend's hotel room on the other side of the island.

Had I been dishonest and simply burned the bike in the forest, I would have saved 1500 baht.
But instead, I was a good person and returned her bike in perfect working order, minus a few scratches, a paint job, and a badass glue job.

Moral of the story: Burn the bike and kill the Batman.

The full moon party.

After telling everyone the scooter rental story over beer, we all started playing intense games of flip cup.

Half the fun of the full moon party is getting decked out in fluorescent paint.

I had a big American flag painted on my forearm, tridents on my arms, and the words SAME SAME on both of my calves.
Then we just splattered paint all over each other.

The British have awesome slang and can insult people with expressions I've never heard. At one point, they said a girl "had a face like a slapped ass."
I'm not sure I know what that means, but I like it.

When we got to the party, I was still with the 8 people I had come with.
We got to the beach around 1am, and I bought a vodka redbull bucket.

We all walked onto the beach and the feeling was awesome. Just a HUGE party.

The beach takes about 10 minutes to walk from end to end, and there are 10-20 bars/clubs along the sand that just blare their music as loud as possible.
Everyone is dancing, and the beach is packed.
The best part, when dancing at a certain bar, you are free to come and go. As soon as they played a song I wasn't feeling, I would just move over 10 yards along the beach to the next bar.

I think it took about 15 minutes for me to lose absolutely everyone I came with.

Regardless, I partied all night. Coming in to the party, I had set the goal that I would make it to sunrise.

Here are some pics from the party.

Fire games: aka the most retarded thing in the world. They swing gasoline soaked ropes that have been lit on fire, and then drunk tourists try to jump rope. I saw 3 people get burned as the rope wrapped around their legs.
I also saw one dude actually catch fire. His friends tackled him and rolled him in sand until the fire was extinguished.

As the night progresses, more and more people are completely passed out on the sand, San Fermin style. Some people just can't handle Thailand.

I made it to sunrise.

Took a taxi back to get my bags at 8am. Passed out for an hour on some random person's porch, and then made my way to the harbor to go to Koh Tao. I had to start my Scuba certification.

Return to the Kingdom of Thailand

*
If you remember at the end of my last post, I had just made my way to the Thai side of immigration.

I was sweaty, hot, and hungover so I didn't really want to talk to anyone. The line to get into Thailand was long, and took about 45 minutes. About halfway through, the girl behind me says something about my bag. She appeared to be traveling with a couple other people. Turns out she was from Florida and was traveling for nearly a whole year in between high school and college.

As we finally pass through immigration, we're waiting for our van to take us to Bangkok. From there, if everything ran on time (it never does) I'd be able to catch the 7:30PM night train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. Having left Siem Reap  at 8am, I was supposed to get to Bangkok at 5 PM, but we were already behind schedule.

It was important to me that I get to Chiang Mai by this night train because my friend Por swore to me that it was part of the Chiang Mai experience. She was right, turns out.

On the van to Bangkok, the girl from Florida (Alex) and I get to talking about our travel plans. As it turns out, she was traveling with another girl (that was snoring next to me) for the next few weeks. However, apparently the sleeping girl we not the nicest human alive, so when I said:
"If she sucks, ditch her and go to Chiang Mai, I'm gonna go on a 3 day hike, that's much more fun"

She said she couldn't ditch her friend.

A few hours later, the van makes it to Bangkok and drops us off on Khao San road, where I spent my first 3 nights n Bangkok.
It was 7PM, and because of the protesters being outraged due to the election a few days before, traffic was nuts.

As I try to hail down a cab, I ask Alex if she's sure about her decision to be miserable instead of having fun in Chiang Mai.
"I completely understand" I say jokingly, "sometimes I like to force myself to be completely unhappy as well"

Her friend is now standing in the middle of the street yelling:
"WE HAVE TO CHECK IN NOW. THEN WE HAVE TO DO THIS..."

So Alex jumps in my cab, along with two other dudes we met on the van, and I direct the driver to the train station.

On the way there, the two guys have a change of heart and decide against going to Chiang Mai spur of the moment.

Alex is still game and as I walk up to the ticket booth at 7:27PM, we had 3 minutes to spare before the train departed.

The second I get on this train, I am transported to imagination land. I swear I felt as if I was on the Hogwarts express in the land of Harry Potter.

The train has private compartments, seats that fold up into beds, little ladders to get to the top bunk, and a restaurant train the blasts bad music and serves beer.

Our beds were at opposite ends of the train, so by the time I had settled in, Alex had made friends with a middle-aged Chinese tourist from Beijing (Zona). We all got dinner and then headed back to our seats/beds.

When I got back to my seat, a train attendant was walking around with fresh, clean sheets, blankets and pillows, and transforming every seat into a full sized bed.

I crawl up into my top bunk, pull my curtain closed, and realized I hadn't brushed my teeth. So I wave my wand and whisper accio toothbrush and it comes flying out of my bag. I consult my map of Chiang Mai to locate the hotel I'd be staying at in the morning. Satisfied with my perfectly timed hectic day, I tap my wand on the map and murmur mischief managed, and snooze off to a magical sleep.

Chiang Mai

Fourteen hours later, the train pulls into Chiang Mai around 9:30am. As the sun rises, the train comes back to life and I was treated to superb views of the mountainous forest as I had a cappuccino. Oh yeah, vacation Paul drinks fancy coffee and sticks his pinky out (Hi Neil).

Zona, Alex and I hop into the hotel shuttle. Zona was only there one night, but I wanted to do the 3 day trek through the mountains and jungles. The hotel offered such a trip and it included 4 nights accommodation (2 in the hotel and 2 in the jungle), breakfast/lunch/dinner for the three day trek, waterfall swimming, elephant riding and bamboo rafting. All of this for less than $90.

The 3 of us grab lunch, and I see a brochure for bungee jumping.
"Would you guys ever go bungee jumping?" I ask.
They both said they'd consider it.
"OK, well then let's all go. Right now."

So that's how we ended up at a certified bungee place run by a new Zealand company. I usually try to haggle on all of the prices in southeast Asia because, like Mexico, that's how life works here. But when I got to the counter and there was a sign the said "We don't negotiate on safety, so don't negotiate on price", I thought that was very fair.

I had never gone bungee jumping before and am scared of heights sometimes. Like if I'm at the top of a ladder, or if I climb a tree too high. But bungee jumping, for some reason, didn't make me nervous. I thought it would, but it wasn't until I was standing 160ft in the air with my toes dangling into the void, that the nerves kicked in.

The girls had volunteered me to go first, which I wanted to anyways. I didn't want to see a couple of people go before me, see them freak out and scream the whole way down. Then I would have second guessed myself.

First they weighed me. Then they sat me down and wrapped the super tight ankle braces on the bottom of my legs. Hopping all the way to the crane elevator, I sat down while the operator on the elevator with me, went through the safety check.

We go up to the very top, 50 meters. He hooks up the bungee cord to my feet, and tosses the rest of it off the side. He then gives me instructions. I am to stand up, scoot to the edge of the crane, hold on to the rails, stand with my toes dangling off the edge, look straight ahead, let go of the railing, extend my arms out to my sides like a flying Jesus, and FALL (not JUMP) face forward.

Okay. Okay. The nerves showed up as soon as I stood up from my bench. I had a very ironic thought at that moment.
When I stood up, I felt the weight of the rope that was pulling me off the edge and into the void.
Before I could grasp the railing my brain yelled, "HOLY SHIT I'M GONNA FALL!!!"
I then grasped the rail and nervously laughed, because, obviously I'm going to fall, that's the entire point of this activity.

Over the years, I had learned something about myself jumping off of the cliffs at Alcova. I loved the sensation of free falling, but if once I got to the top of the cliff I looked down, then by brain tends to freeze my body while my mind races. Therefore, at the lake, I just jump without looking or thinking. So that's what I did here.

The bungee dude tells me it's now time to let go of the railing and met myself fall forward. So I did just that.

The feeling is amazing. For the fall down, it was a mixture of apprehension, adrenaline, and AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Except I didn't scream or say anything, in fact once I was done, the girls thought it was weird that no sound escaped my lips.

The thing that made bungee jumping more enjoyable for me than skydiving, was the bounce up. To be fair, I didn't skydive under the best conditions (completely hammered in Vegas), but that's a story for another time.

During the bounce up, I actually felt like I was flying. Gravity pulling me down, yet I'm shooting up. Just amazing. I remember being purposefully quiet because I was just soaking it all in and enjoying the free-fall and flight.

Also I didn't want to scare the girls going after me, but it turns out they were already terrified anyways.

The only bad part of bungee jumping is after you're done with all the bounces. At that point, I dangled head first, blood rushing to it, for 30 seconds before I was pulled to earth.

Alex went next. Same pre-jump ritual as me. But when she got to the top and it was time for her to jump, she froze. She asked the guy to push her. So he did, but that means she fell feet first instead of head first, screaming the whole way down.

When it came to be Zona's turn, the same thing happened as with Alex. She was pushed off feet first. The noises that erupted from her mouth were hysterical. From the moment she was pushed, to the moment she reached solid ground, she was screaming. But not a normal scream, a mixture of death-curling screams and sex noises. I couldn't stop laughing.

We all did it and were rather proud of ourselves. Then Zona bought us ice cream thanking us, because she said she would never have done anything like this alone.

I want to bungee jump in New Zealand where it's more than 2.5 times as high.

We all had dinner together and I quizzed Zona on Chinese life. That country is so interesting to me. Her stories matched those of other Chinese citizens I had spoken with. The government censors nearly everything in their life. When I asked her what she knew about the Tienanmen Square massacre of 1989 where thousands of Chinese citizens were mowed down by the army, she had no idea what I was talking about. So then I showed her the famous picture of the man holding a bag in front of a tank. Nope, hadn't seen that either.
She told me that North Korea is, what China used to be. The main difference being that now a select few, educated and wealthy Chinese citizens can leave to visit other countries.

The Trek

The following morning 10 tourists and 2 guides set off from the hotel to go on a 3 day, 2 night trek.

The landscape is lush, green and the land is fertile. All throughout the mountain, there are endless stretches of rice paddies. The mountains are filled with tiny villages that, for the most part, still live the same way as their ancestors have for the last few hundred years. Sure now they have iPods, canned beer and flashlights, but that's why I said "for the most part."

The first day, we hiked a few hours before reaching the waterfall. Before this, we stopped for lunch where our tour guide gave us fried rice wrapped in a palm tree leaf. That way, everything is biodegradable.

Oh yeah, before I forget, our hotel back in Chiang Mai still had Christmas decorations up....they literally took the Christ out of Christmas.

We had two guides. JayJay and Doe Doe. Jay Jay was the actual tour guide, and Doe Doe was a "guide in training." Actually he was a machete wielding maniac, but I'll get to that later.

Doe Doe was very professional, courteous and full of knowledge about the local people, their customs, and the wildlife.
Jay Jay was always playing pranks, joking and showing us cool nature tricks (like blowing bubbles with the stem of a particular plant).

We spent an hour or so swimming in the ice cold waterfall. Mostly we played out by the edge of the water, but it was a really nice, refreshing dip.

After another couple hours of hiking, we made it to our home for the night. It was just some old villager lady's home. Very simple. There were 6 or 7 huts, a fire pit, a picnic table, an outhouse, and a shower.

The shower was actually just a PVC pipe they stuck in the river.

Doe Doe didn't speak very good English, but kept saying he was "Small, but Spicy."
Then he yelled "KARATE KID" and I managed to snap a picture of him at that exact time.

The places we stayed were miniature farms. They all had chickens, pigs, cats, dogs and huge water buffalo. They all lived happily side by side. By which, I of course mean they were all terrified of the hand that fed them. All animals in southeast Asia are just that, animals. So they get kicked or hit with sticks or rocks on a regular basis. I call it "pre-tenderizing." Eventually, they all end up in the green curry they fed us, claiming it was chicken or pork.

That night, we all sat by the campfire, listening to music and teaching the guides how to shotgun beers. Then Doe Doe busted out some Thai whiskey and was running around everywhere like a rabid monkey.

The next day, I'm pretty sure I had some sort of food poisoning because I felt as if I had a fever all day, and couldn't really keep anything down.

But I did learn how they de-shelled rice. They put the rice grains in a wooden bucket and with a contraption, they smash the rice. The locals were kind enough to let me do it for them for free.

We hiked for most of the day before getting to our new camp, a similar set up as the last one. Except this time there was no pretense of having a PVC pipe in the river as a shower. We all just showered in the actual freezing river.

The locals must think we're absolutely insane. We pay $90 to live in poverty, like they do, for 3 days. I guess eventually, we run out of things we spend our cash on.
If you agreed with that last sentence, know that it was a test, and you failed. There is always something else to spend cash on: IE a jetpack.

That night, we were all pretty tired from the night before and the day of trekking, so we were not looking to party like the night before. Jay Jay understood that, but Doe Doe didn't get the memo. The small but spicy man, came out of his hut, obviously high on something (he was talking about opium a lot so my bet is on that) and started pounding back brewskis. He insisted we play some sort of puzzle game that he invented with little bamboo sticks. I stuck around for an hour or so, but then called it a night quite early because I was still feeling sick.

Here's what happened after I left the campfire.

One of the guys in our group, a cool Canadian wildman, was playing Doe Doe‘s game just like everyone else. After a while, no one wanted to play anymore. Since Doe Doe was always joking around, we all joked around with him as well.

So the Canadian jokingly says, "we don't wanna play your stupid game anymore Doe Doe."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.
While half the group doesn't even notice, the other half sees him storm off in anger.
He shuts himself up in his hut. When he returns, he's angrily wielding a machete.
He goes up to the Canadian and pushes him repeatedly with one hand, while threatening him with the machete, holding it above his head, ready to strike.
Jay Jay runs over to Doe Doe, restraining him and wrestling the machete out of his hand. They yell at each other in Thai, then Jay Jay sends Doe Doe off to bed.

The next morning, Doe Doe was nowhere to be seen, and Jay Jay kept apologizing.

And I missed it all.

On the last day of the trek, elephant riding and bamboo rafting was on the agenda.

I didn't know what to expect from riding elephants. But I didn't like it. Just like I don't like animal circus's or zoo's.
These elephants, are huge and amazing creatures, but they are beaten into submission. The elephant "driver" that sits on the elephants neck while you ride on his back is constantly threatening the beast with a steel knife. Most of the time, the mere sight and sound of unsheathing the blade is enough to make the elephants comply and obey orders. When it isn't, the get hit with it. When that still isn't enough, they pull down on the hook inside the elephants ear.

To top it all off, during out 20 minute ride, someone in the nearby forest fired a gun. This spooked all of the elephants (except the one I was on). The other beasts went absolutely bananas. The started stomping their feet and spinning around in circles. They were roaring (or whatever noise elephants make) terrifyingly and slamming their trunks on the dirt. The couple on the back of the crazy elephant was terrorized and petrified with fear. I don't blame them. You don't realize how big and powerful these things are until they go crazy while you're on the back of one.

I fed our elephant many bananas and sugar cane, that was fun.

On the other hand, bamboo rafting was awesome!
There were 4 people per raft, and as we went down the river, we would try to throw the other raft off balance, making its passengers fall in the river.

There was a raft filled with Chinese tourists who started screaming bloody murder when we tried to tip them over.

Then we got on a truck that took us back to town. We were wondering what was taking so long for us to leave, since the truck was clearly already here waiting for us...that's because the driver was taking a cat nap. I found him.

Getting back to the hotel, I was supposed to spend one more night in Chiang Mai before taking the day train to Bangkok the next morning. From there, I'd spend the night in Bangkok and then take the night train from Bangkok to Surat Thani, before finally taking a boat from there to Koh Phagnan (island of the full moon party). Alex was also going to the full moon party, so we had planned to make the journey there together.

That all seemed like a huge waste of time to me. Plus I didn't want to spend another night in Bangkok, especially since Jabo and I will be going back there before flying to Bali.

So again, spur of the moment, I left my new group of friends and bought a last minute night train from Chiang Mai back to Bangkok.
Once more, I found myself aboard the Hogwarts Express.

When I arrived to Bangkok that following morning, I had planned to simply change trains at the station, and keep going to Surat Thani.
I get off the train and look around.

I don't recognize the train station.
I'd never been to this one before.

I quickly realize that I got off at the wrong stop and that instead of the train station, I had gotten off at the airport...on the complete other side of Bangkok!

I could have easily turned around and ran back towards the train to get back on. But I didn't feel like it.
So I thought "F#$% it, I'll just go with the flow."

Then I did something I've never done before.
I walked into the airport, went up to an airline counter, and asked if they had any flights to Surat Thani.

"We have one that leaves in 1 hour, for $92." She replied.

And just like that, my ping pong playing days were over.