With two weeks of holiday ahead of me and an insatiable
desire to relax I decided to venture south to Kho Tao, a little island near the
cluster of party islands nestled in the Gulf of Thailand. Neighboured by Kho Pangnan and Kho Samui this
little sister is a quieter spot frequented by divers and snorkellers for it’s
amazing array of fish and coral.
Following a month of lesson planning and generally settling into a new
continent my brain desperately needed a temporary shut down. I set myself two tasks, get a tan and read a
book.
The overnight journey began with a coach to Bangkok where my trustee iPod serenaded me
for the three hour stint. Next step was
negotiating with the countless taxi drivers that jump on you like a stray
monkey. Arriving in Bangkok is a surreal experience, the bus
station lanes are lined with streetfood vendors and taxi touts. It attacked my senses and almost hypnotised
me to follow a driver who dictated a fare of 250 baht to get me to the train
station, his first quote was 500 – more than double the cost of the coach I had
just alighted. I broke from my trance
and sought advice from the information desk where I was told the fare is
approximately 150 baht in normal traffic.
I quickly rebooted myself and found a more reputable driver who got me
to Hua Lamphong for 141 baht. I scurried
past the army of taxi touts shouting “Where you going?” to buy my train ticket
in the air conditioned station.
Unfortunately for me the sleeper train was booked up so I was left with
a seat in the 2nd class carriage offering reclining seats, 6 hours
later. No other choice but to have a
wander. I made it down the river and decided
to return swiftly when I sensed the stench of wee on the footpath. I’d rather sit in a café for 6 hours than
walk amongst someone’s wee, thanksverymuch.
So with so much time to kill I settled into the coffee shop and studied
my copy of the Lonely Planet Guide to Thailand that informed me that Kho
Tao was going to be worth the wait.
Once the train arrived I was past caring about the lack of a horizontal place to sleep and snoozed all the way to Chumphon. The train arrived almost an hour and a half late so the ferry I had a joint ticket for was already halfway to KT. I had to buy a fare for the Catamaran which was scheduled to depart in 5.5 hours so I faced another long wait at a train station. I sat in the sun and read a chunk of my book, already making a start on both my tasks. The Catamaran crossing was the last leg of the 27.5 hour journey, and I too was on my last legs. Exhausted and hungry I arrived on KT and was brought to a resort that my taxi driver recommended. Not sure why, apart from perhaps a cut of their profits, as it wasn’t the kind of place I’d imagine when conjuring up idyllic thoughts. The open condom on my bed was the last straw so I scoured Sairee Beach for alternative lodgings. The accommodation fairy was smiling on me the following morning for she granted me refuge at a nearby resort offering a private bungalow with a pretty porch and private bathroom for the reasonable fee of 400 baht. Same price as the place from the night before that offered a musty scent and second hand prophylactics. I felt much more at home in the clean pretty bungalow surrounded by fragrant Frangipani trees.
My first day was filled with a very strict itinerary of reading, sunbathing and swimming. No rest for the wicked as they say but I took regular swimming breaks. The water was so clear I could see my feet, so soft it felt like it had added moisturiser (Sairee beach, sponsored by Dove!?) and the waves so gentle I floated on the surface of the water watching the taxi boats bob around as if in a merry dance. Breathing in, letting my lungs fill, I rose to the surface and breathing out to empty them I felt my body sink back under, it felt as though it was just me and this incredible element on this island. Despite slathering SPF on every square inch my sunbathing resulted in a tricolour of brown, pink and white. My poor Irish skin is so unaccustomed to the sun it simply doesn’t know how to tan. I decided to put it through rigorous training over the following five days and managed to balance it out somewhat and now am two tone, satisfactory progress. I spent two days switching off and managed to read an entire book. This is an amazing feat for me, I often get distracted while reading and find myself revising pages I have just read but not absorbed. So used to multi tasking in my everyday, I find it such a challenge to simply sit and read. By the third day I was starting to miss the sound of a conversation so when my French neighbour invited me for a beer on the beach I was delighted to accept. We chatted into the evening and, over the course of my holiday, we whiled away an afternoon here and an evening there.
On a cloudy day I took myself on a boat trip of the island which included snorkelling in several of the bays and a trip to Kho Nang Yuan, a small neighbouring island which is apparently famous for snorkelling. I needed to pop my snorkelling cherry and no better way than on a guided tour. I arrived in one of the few rainstorms endured in my five day visit. Soaked and hopeful for a blast of sun I arrived to be met with Mark, our tour guide, who hurriedly took details and handed out snorkels before rushing off to get ready for the trip. After my few days of R&R I started to sense that Mark was a tad highly strung so kept a little distance so as not to catch it, stress is contagious dontcha know! It came time to board the boat so Mark led us to the pier where two boats were moored up side by side. Mark boarded with the dexterity of a gecko scaling a wall but unfortunately my sea legs are underdeveloped so hopping from boat to boat is more of a challenge to a landlubber like me. Our highly charged tour guide took off out of earshot, ignorant to my plea for assistance. The gap between the pier and the boat, and then the boat to the boat, looked like a deathly crevice to my untrained eye. Eventually a helpful fellow passenger came to my rescue and assisted me aboard, a South Korean man who kept saying “whiskey!” when he heard where I’m from. Are we only known for alcoholism? I must be aware of this on my next visit to Bon Bon and undo all of this injustice.
As we departed Mae Haad pier I already acquainted myself with two girls from San Francisco. We bonded over our mutual disgust at the scuzzy snorkels we were given, luckily they offered me an anti-bac wipe which solved the problem nicely. I wondered if a discount would be on offer for handing my snorkel back cleaner than it’d been in a while…but I wasn’t going to approach Mark with this proposal for fear of being thrown overboard. Our first stop was Shark Bay, where we were warned about strong currents so I sat that one out. The excitement on the faces that returned whet my appetite and I was excited about my first snorkelling experience. However, still a bit nervous so I asked Mark if there was anything I should know about technique and such and his response was to “watch out for coral”. When I asked where it usually lives (as in, is it floating around me, is it at the bottom, is it around the rocks, etc…just the usual ignorance of a newbie who’s never before encountered coral) he said “where you see it”. Hmm, about as helpful to me as a braille map. With the more helpful and informative advice from my new San Franciscan acquaintance I entered the water with a degree of confidence where I marvelled at fish of all sizes and colours. After a few more stops lunch was served aboard the boat before the final stop to Kho Nang Yuan where a viewpoint displayed the beauty of the island from above, accessed via a wooden walkway hugging the shore and a potentially treacherous scale of rock and boulder but so, so worth the effort! After descending I rewarded myself with a swim and a snorkel on the beach where, in even shallow water, many curious sand coloured fish meandered around my feet. I am exhilarated and hooked on snorkelling, and have vowed to purchase my own snorkel and goggles…at least I won’t have to count on anti-bac wipes for my next underwater excursion.
On my return from the boat trip I decided on a quiet dinner for one and had the most delicious Massaman curry by candle light at a little restaurant in Sairee town, called Blue Chair. If my budget had allowed it I’d have eaten here each night. Their Fish curry was so scrumptious I almost married it. The island satisfies both party goers and peace seekers alike and as a solo visitor I was very pleased to see some bars showing English language movies on a big screen, offering me the chance to have an evening beer without looking like some sort of bar lush. One evening I ventured into a bar playing hip hop, one of my favourite genres, because they had a fire show – dudes flinging fire meteors (length of rope with lit wicks at either end) all over the gaff. One display was so awe inspiring it left me mesmerised, one of the performers got a large rope which was just lit at one end and flung it round and round til sparks flew off it, creating a bow of light around him. I had forgotten my camera but the display will forever remain in my memory just for me. As an ex photographer, I think that sometimes it’s important to experience something sans camera so you really live it. With my camera I suffer the battle between having an experience and recording it, it’s not possible for me to do both.
On my penultimate day I accompanied my neighbour on a walk
to Mae Haad beach for a change of scenery, just 20 minutes along the path aka
the Yellow Brick Road. This path comes alive at night with pretty
lights enticing customers into the beach bars offering stunning views while you
sip cocktails on cushions and beanbags. 
We
discovered a cute little beach bar, called Karma, playing lovely chilled out
music and nearby some rope swings suspended from a palm tree, that until now I
had only seen whilst picture researching for luxury travel magazine features…now
I was sitting on one, bliss! After a
swim, we went back to Karma that evening and I enjoyed some Bob Marley and
beer, swaying lazily in a hammock while the waves kissed the shore.
Images: Sinéad Millea
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