Thailand’s greatest hits

Bangkok ⇨ Ko Phangan ⇨ Ko Tao ⇨ Bangkok ⇨ Pai ⇨ Chiang Mai

Thailand was different. The plan was to have a neat one-month vacation with great food and zero stress, but I ended up being ill most of the time. First mysterious fever with cough, then ear infection, which produced one of the most intense pain I have ever experienced and finally a biking accident with a lot of scratches. One month in Thailand and 80% of the time was spent being sick with two kinds of antibiotics, a variety of painkillers and a myriad of ear drops.

Fortunately the destinations we picked were chill enough to spend time being sick comfortably. Haad Yuan was magical as always. The common theme of this season was an invasion of Full Moon bucketheads in neon colored t-shirts. Half of the beach is already lost to full mooners and who knows where this development will lead further. The plan to build a dividing wall across the beach was hatched, which received enthusiastic support from regulars, but nothing ever materialised. Maybe next season then.

Ko Tao has not changed at all from the last time. It seems Sairee beach had reached its full potential for fitting in more resorts and restaurants and the end product is enjoyable despite its touristic nature. I could not go diving because of the ear infection, but did not feel sad about it, which finally convinced me that scuba diving was not my cup of tea. Oh well, there are a myriad of other things to enjoy in this life.

Pai has considerably changed since the last time three years ago. New resorts have been built and more are on the way. Now Pai is dominated by rowdy American teenagers and even more Chinese tourists. I had a horrible vision what if in the near future it will become a boutique destination with excellent shopping and eating options aimed at catering Chinese tourists en masse. In the end the most important thing that matters to local businesses is who brings the most money. In the contest of poor white hippies and wealthy upper middle class from China, the winner is clear. Thankfully for now the chilled out lovely atmosphere is still there. People are friendly and easy-going, food is great and live music is somewhere every night. What else could you wish? Pai could be fully enjoyed only for one day, after which we spent the rest of the time recovering from the biking accident in the 40°C heat. Not an ideal way to spend a holiday or treat wounds by any means, but what you can do…

Thailand has never been that rough, as if it was sending a message: you are not welcomed this time. Coincidentally a lot of time was spent in discussions about the real nature of Thai friendliness. Whether “the land of thousand smiles” is authentic in its smiles or whether it is just a cultural mask that stems from the fear to lose one’s face. Anyhow Thailand is still my favourite destination in South East Asia. No bad feelings.

Bangkok by night

Bangkok by night

Bangkok's own superstar Chapi checking out the situation.

Bangkok’s own superstar Chapi checking out the situation.

Sunrise at the Donsak pier before boarding a ferry to Koh Phangan.

Sunrise at the Donsak pier before boarding a ferry to Koh Phangan.

Wai Nam beach, Koh Phangan.

Wai Nam beach, Koh Phangan.

Coconut wisdom.

Coconut wisdom.

Somewhere between Haad Yao and Wai Nam, Koh Phangan.

Somewhere between Haad Yao and Wai Nam, Koh Phangan.

The rainy Koh Tao.

The rainy Koh Tao.

Sairee beach, Koh Tao

Sairee beach, Koh Tao

Nang Yuan beach at Koh Tao

Nang Yuan beach at Koh Tao

Arguably the best picture I took in Thailand

Arguably the best picture I took in Thailand

A magic shop in Pai

A magic shop in Pai

A creepy installation, Pai.

A creepy installation, Pai.

Pai river

Pai river

And its dog

And its dog

The proof of sending postcards from Pai

The proof of sending postcards from Pai

Witching Well restaurant in Pai.

Witching Well restaurant in Pai.

Beach mode

No shoes, no underwear, minimum amount of clothes, no shampoo, salt and sand in the hair, coconut oil on the skin. That’s how I spent my holiday. By the end of the first week I got evicted from my bungalow (due a reservation by people more important than myself), so I ended up sleeping in a hammock on the beach. Dormitory was one option, but where is fun in that? After a second night, I scored myself a bungalow (not a trivial task on Haad Yuan around NYE). But at this point I got accustomed to the life of a beach bum, so I continued maintaining status quo. A hammock, a sarong, swimming pants, some reading, a camera, a torch and a knife, a toothbrush with toothpaste, a comb, water and some money. That’s all I needed to get by. The rest was tugged away in friends’ bungalow and I hardly touched during my bungalowless phase. Simple, yet effective.

– Where do you stay?
– On the beach. I am homeless.
– Oh noes!

It was a good story to tell. Reactions were interesting. It seemed that most people were stressed by my situation and tried to help me by giving advice, while I tried to explain them that I did not mind being homeless. After all I had to have my adventure during this journey. If not for climbing a mountain or exploring yet another cave, then at least spending a few nights on the beach.

Sanuk

If there is one word to describe Thai culture, it is sanuk: having fun together. Thai culture is all about sanuk, it is one of the most important aspects of the society. First you have sanuk and everything else follows. The rule applies to everything: work, school, leisure, chores and so on. Contrast it with puritan western countries: there is time for work and there is time for having fun. As a curious side-effect, Thais are not big readers. Indeed, reading a book is anti-sanuk, as it can be. You deliberately spend time alone having fun (or not) all on your own. I have never seen a Thai child crying. Granted expressing own negative emotions is not something you do in Asia, but how on Earth you would convince a child not to cry is beyond my understanding.

After I got back to Finland after my surprise holiday, on the way home I systematically sought eye-contact with passers-by. Success-rate for a walk from Rautatientori to Kamppi? Zero. Not a single smile either. Doom and gloom everywhere. Sharing a smile with a stranger in Finland is a curious topic as well. When you smile at the stranger, you get something like this in return: anxious tension ⇒ quick awkward smile ⇒ anxious tension. That’s how we roll.

Finland regularly makes headlines as one of the happiest countries in the world. To see what a blatant lie it is, just take a subway ride in Helsinki in November. Any other month in year will do as well too. To be honest though, in some of these surveys they mistake prosperity with happiness. In 2009 local newspapers and tabloids were full of “Finland – the happiest place on Earth”-type headlines. Upon a further investigation it turned out that the results were based on Legatum Prosperity Index, which does not say a word about happiness. It seems that material well-being equals happiness in the eyes of many people. There are lies, damned lies and statistics, as Benjamin Disraeli eloquently put it. You can gather any numbers together, process them and slap it a moniker as happiness on the result. And then you convince everyone that this is the reality. However, taking a look around and especially travelling to other countries might give you a better picture of how things are, but this is a story for another post.

Grande Finale on Koh Chang

I arrived to Koh Chang after an exhilarating bus journey from Sihanoukville involving four buses and one boat. If you look at the map, the two places are not that far away, but it took me a whole day to get to Koh Chang. Interestingly enough Siam Riep is much further from Koh Chang, but the journey takes approximately the same time. Fast traveling is unheard in most places in South East Asia. By the end of the day while sat in a taxi making its way at a blazing speed I stopped caring about everything. When would I get to my destination, where would I sleep or whether would I get there at all. All these basic traveller’s needs just did not matter in the end of the day. It was sublime.

Koh Chang experience was somewhat similar to Phu Quoc. I arrived and immediately disliked what I saw. Beaches are not match to Koh Rong and are too overdeveloped. Then I found nice accommodation and met people, which made things alright. Many old faces made it to Koh Chang and it felt like a last reunion of fellow travelers just before each one headed home. Life surprised once again. It is definitely the place to end one’s journey, especially at this time of the year. Koh Chang greeted me with the low season in its full bloom. Lower prices, frequent rains, deserted resorts and restaurants and not that many tourists. I liked it though, the low season made things much more laid-back. I went to a deserted bar once and asked the owner whether they were open or not. “Sometimes” was the answer. This is the work ethics I can relate to. I did not even mind the rain, as it was a perfect excuse to just to chill out in my bungalow reading books, playing card, socializing and just being. The only adventure for Koh Chang was limited to making a trip to the legendary Tree House now located on Long Beach. The place is rather isolated and a proper pave road changes to with a battered rocky road a couple of kilometers before the beach. The plan was to move there, but upon arriving there we realized that the place was closed for the season. But what an experience it was. It looked as if the place was abandoned after a cataclysm: deserted, washed-up garbage on the beach, half-destroyed bungalows and half-empty coffee cup on the table. Rather spooky atmosphere too. Only zombies were missing. This is Thailand I had never experienced before.

There is a snake-like hilly road circumventing almost all of the island, except the small bit in the south. There are apparently plans to complete the loop, but they have not materialized yet. The reason is unclear, but I heard two versions: plausible and interesting ones. The plausible one goes that the southern bit is very hilly and would require building a tunnel. Likely, but boring. According to the interesting one there are two quarreling villages divided by the jungle in the southern end and they resist all the motions connecting two villages with each other. There are also stories about local Romeo and Juliet from each village making jungle meetings in secret in the darkness of the night. I rather prefer the latter version. Who wants to hear boring truth, when you can have a good story?

Life in Pai (Part 2)

I spent nine day on Koh Tao not meeting any people or feeling like socializing. It was fine, I did not mind. Pai was the exact opposite for me. Everybody seemed to be on the same wavelength and meeting people was effortless. You just walk on the street and strike a conversation with a stranger. Instant friends for life. Even before arriving to Pai, I met a bunch of people on the way thanks to hitchhiking. While most places are dominated by Swedish, Pai is different. No Svenska here, but Dutch are the majority, followed by Germans. There are a lot of Russians too. Not your typical package-trip type, but apparently a down-shifter crew from Goa. There are surprisingly many Finns as well. In fact I met more Finnish people in the span of two days in Pai than during half a year of my travels. Funny that. One of the most interesting encounters was Anna from Helsinki. It turned out that we share a bunch of mutual friends and I had been several times to the commune flat she lives in, never meeting her before though. It is a small world.

While most tourist places are catered to Western junk food, Pai’s speciality is healh-freak restaurants. Vegetarian, vegan, raw food – make your pick. There is a small restaurant called Link, where they prepare everything from scratch, including picking up vegetables from the garden. A meal can take up to an hour to prepare (considering it is one woman operation), but the end result is well worth it. Then there is Witching Well with its selection of exotic herbal teas and raw foods. My favorite one, though, is Good Life. A charismatic restaurant owned by a Ukrainian man Kostya, who made Pai his permanent home. Some of the specialities they offer include bortsh, kombucha tea (a fungus that turns tea into a fermented drink), a wide selection of fancy teas, wheatgrass shots and so on. Not your average selection of pad thai and fried rice. Add good music and an impressive library (I snatched Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test) and you have got a recipe for a perfect restaurant. On top of that, the owner does vipassana retreats once in a while in a forest temple not so far away. And all that in a small town lost in the mountains of Northern Thailand!

Pai’s nightlife is versatile, but yet tranquil, without a messy touch. Live jazz and acoustic music is on every night and proper jungle all-nighters are twice a month. And if that is not enough, there are always things going on here and there. The personal highlight was the art-gallery/installation/live music event at Baan Pittalepew. I did not know anything about it and had no expectations apart from “a bar with live music”. What I found was a massive open-air space with an art gallery, a gigantic bonfire, quirky but quality live music and dance/yoga performances. Mind. Blown. Just like a mini-version of Fusion with a Thai flavor. On top of that it was the season closing and also my last day in Pai. It made me really happy that I had not left Pai two days earlier as I had planned to. Talk about excellent timing.