As in about two thirds of the times we've had air conditioning on overnight we awake cold under at least two layers even though the air con can't get the temperature below 25C. I get second helpings of toast for breakfast which is good for me before we clambour abourd the ute and ride back the 200 yards to the bus station and Sayan office. Dumping our bags in the back office -- along with everyone else it seems -- we jump in the [open] back again and run 10km down to the river all the time wondering how far you fly in an accident. At least people rarely get above 80kmph but your hat can still blow off -- and mine did.
The longboat is just that though the Thai speciality seems to be to have a completely exposed engine like the demo engines at motor shows, directly attached to a long driveshaft with a propellor on the end. Much heaving is done by the skipper to regularly raise the prop out of the water as a partial speed control measure. The first part of the journey runs through thick mangrove swamps and eventually alongside some of the karst structures. This is about as close as we get and you can see a sort of molten was effect on the lowest overhangs which was reminiscent of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Once out of the mangroves the staccato[?] skyline becomes more obvious. The stacks are all covered by trees. It seems odd describing vertical thrusts of rock as being tree covered but they are all, it seems, bar overhangs. There's a huge variety of shapes and sizes that's quite impressive.
The first stop was a Ko Pingkan, James Bond Island. Obviously you realise on approach as you scan for a 200m high Ko Tapoo ("Nail Island") and as all true fans know, the Island Scaramanga built his complex on is, um, not even suitable for Herve, his diminutive aide de camp. It's barely 20m high and when you see it it's quite a laugh, looking a bit pathetic in the bay of Ko Pingkan. Ko Tapoo amidst Ko Pingkan. It's a tourist high spot so the (rare amongst the islands) beach is covered in souvenir shops, not particularly selling James Bond.
More island flitting including a stop to crawl through a tunnel to see an eerily green enclosed lagoon (silt presumably) before lunch on a shitty beach quite unlike the rather attractive advertised one. Lunch was quite nice but few had an urge to swim in the murky depths so it was a long hot wait for the huge engines to burst into life again. On the way back we stopped at the "Muslim fishing village" "whose unique culture has existed, cut off from the mainland and most modern amenities, for more than a hundred years." Which is a village, built on a combination of sturdy concrete and frail looking wooden stilts out into the silty bed of the river and whose sole inconvenience appears to be a 45 minute journey into town. Otherwise they hawk and haggle in the extensive "main street," have almost a dozen huge restaurants catering for tourists and generally look no better nor worse than anyone else.
Back in Phang Nga we loitered in Sayan for a bus to Phuket. The first two were full so we jumped, at their word, on the third which turned out to be a local commuter bus and was fuller than the previous two combined. We spent the next 45 minutes standing up [cheek by jowl] then the remaining 45 perched on the end as the third on a seat for two. Disgorged in Phuket bus station and walking away from the determined taxi touts we fell into a cafe for a beer and a review of options. The cafe man was, of course, a taxi man too and after a good haggle we agreed to pay him B100 to take us 15km over the "big mountain" to Ao Patang (a beach resort on the west coast of the island of Phuket) noting that our 95km bus ride had only cost B130 (and should have only cost B62 -- do we look like tourists?).
The mountain was an admittedly quite steep hill and rather than go round the places he knew (to cost B1000 or less) in fact he stopped and asked someone. A few minutes later we were outside a travel agency which turned out to be a guest house as well and Helen had found a liveaboard going to the Similan Islands for 3 days/2 nights for B12000 apiece including 11 dives -- not Thailand cheap but globally cheap. Oh what the heck, just hand over the credit card...
The room's good and has a hot shower -- yahoo! We head out for some expensive (it's all relative) nosh and Helen bargains for a shaker and a slapper (two underwater noise makers) after we'd consumed two jugs of Singha. We should get to bed, we've to leave at 6:30 tomorrow. As I write it's a quarter to one -- though at least the telly hasn't said war has broken out properly in Iraq, just some mud slinging.
Chong Ko Guest House, Patong, Phuket N7.90088 E98.29976 Elev. 36m Chong Ko Guest House, Patong, Phuket.
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.
