IT’S around 10am in balmy Koh Phi Phi Don, Thailand.
The warm breeze is whispering through the bronze chimes hanging from craft stalls aligning an old, uneven walkway that runs from one side of the 8km-long island to the other. There are no roads. Locals swish by on their bicycles, cautious not to bump ambling passers-by, guests in their home.
On the distant horizon, fishermen are making their way to shore with their fresh catches. Back at the beach their spouses are tending to embers glowing invitingly. A feast awaits the ravenous traveller. Give or take half an hour and you’ll have the freshest fish on the planet for breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner or whenever it takes your fancy.
There’s no rush. There is no time-keeping in paradise. Unlike the commercialised city of Phuket on which thousands of tourists descend over the festive and New Year season, Phi Phi boasts spectacular landscapes of waterfalls, virgin forests and Neolithic caves. My friend Chloe and I stayed on the idyllic Phi Phi for only three days, (I say with tears in my eyes), during a three-week-long visit to the country. Little did I know at the time how those three days would change my life forever. For the first nine days of the trip we had participated in a Contiki Tour – a travel group of 18- to 35-year-olds from around the world who shared a passion for adventure, and were on a mission to create lasting memories. We created memories that will last a lifetime. Our first port of call was Phuket, the largest of 1 430 islands that constitute some of Thailand. The famous Asian getaway destination was just as I had imagined it to be: picturesque, magnificent beaches, delicious food, warm weather, friendly locals and an addictive, pulsating holiday vibe. What I loved most about “living” in Phuket was the care-free, easy-going lifestyle. I slipped into it as soon as I stepped off the plane – as easily as slipping into a strappy dress or a brightly coloured bathing costume. The latter became my staple dress code while in Phuket. Bliss.
I never anticipated feeling so relaxed that instantly. And the city is safe. No, it doesn’t lull you into a false sense of it. It is safe.
Yes, one takes the usual precautionary measures such as clutching your bag tightly when walking through a large crowd of people, or leaving the hotel with just enough money for what you plan to do for the day – feeling safe in a foreign country, as I did in Phuket, is a comforting experience. After four days of lazing about, tanning on the beach, tuk-tukking to new and unexpected destinations and shopping, we ferried to Phi Phi. The two-hour ferry trip felt like a hangover, brought on by a heady cocktail of Russian, Arabic, English and Spanish accents.
For almost an hour I had my head scrunched against my travel pillow, silently begging the sacred gods of Thailand to spare me the wrath of the noise!
But only 1 000 counting sheep later, we were there. It felt like an eternity.
I was awakened by the welcoming sound of the boat’s siren.
Excitedly, I ran to the deck and was absolutely awe-struck by what I saw.
As far as the eye could see, lush green islands dotted the calm, turquoise ocean – God’s wonderful creations rising from the depths of these calm waters – an endless melody of islands. I wanted to burst into song, and I should have. We disembarked and made our way to our hotel.
Overlooking the expanse of Laem Hin Beach, Bayview Resort is nestled between gently undulating hillsides of lush jungle. Men were already hard at work setting up an impressive stage on the beach, which would host local fire dancers and musicians for the much-anticipated New Year’s Eve party. We settled into our cosy room, and soon it was dinner time.
Our group of 25 travellers from around the world bonded over dinner at Unni’s – a foodie’s paradise. “Exclusively” for us they had imported the finest Australian steak, to be served with mashed potato. To the chagrin (followed by surreptitious smirks) of the waitron, I ventured, “I’ll have the Thai green curry”.
She could tell that I was not there to delight in Aussie delicacies. I was there for the Thai experience, thank you very much. Although the clock beamed 23:40, it was not time to drowse off into dreamland.
At Carlito’s we danced the night away. Carlito himself was kind enough to show us the way home that night.
New Year’s Eve. My mind kept wandering back home where I knew my family was making their way to Tweede Tol. Visiting the Bain’s Kloof camping site is a tradition in our family. And this year they were camping without me. Sadness settled in my heart for just a few moments. I missed them.
But then I felt trickles of streaming river water cascading down my spine. The sun’s rays always managed to find me, no matter how hard I tried to hide.
I opened my eyes and it was real. Thousands of kilometres away from South Africa, I had found the coolest stream to revel in. And no matter where I went, the sun followed.
Now we were preparing for the biggest party of them all. New Year’s Eve on a beach, on the most beautiful island in Asia. What more could a girl ask for?
Fireworks emblazoned the dark night sky in the hours leading up to the countdown. Fire dancers were swallowing and spewing fire.
I took a moment to marvel at all that was around me – a bright, titillating canvas of cultures, colours and costumes – all for my pleasure.
3 … 2 … 1! I turned to Chloe.
The rest of what happened that night, as they say, is history.
The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed to board yet another boat: Bob’s Booze Cruise. Bob and his crew of three men took us sailing into the clear waters that surround the tiny island.
First we went snorkelling “with Nemo”, as Bob affectionately called it. I admit I didn’t enjoy the feeling of hundreds of tiny fish bolting between my legs.
Each time I felt a slippery creature get too close for comfort, I couldn’t help but let out a shriek that drew all attention to me. That’s me. That marked the end of my anticipated introduction to Nemo and his cronies.
Bamboo Island was another testament to the love that flows from our Creator.
Careful not to step onto coral that had broken off and washed up on shore, I strolled from one side of the island to the next, snapping away on my Lumix as much as I could.
Not one of the hundreds of pictures I took does justice to the real beauty that I beheld.
“It doesn’t get better than this, I told myself.”
How wrong I was. Maya Beach was our next stop.
The Beach, starring Leonardo di Caprio, was filmed at this exotic location in 2000.
The bay boasts 100m high cliffs on three sides, and again, crystal clear water.
The bad news is that Maya Beach is on every tourist visiting Thailand’s to-do list. Many large ferry boats carrying hundreds of snorkellers and sightseers moor in any inlet of the bay at any given time of day.
The last stop on our Contiki Tour was the honeymoon island, Krabi.
At the south of Thailand, Krabi too became a base camp for lush jungles and idyllic isles floating just offshore in the Andaman Sea. That sunny Sunday afternoon we arrived in Krabi, I was journeying closer to an event I had had on my bucket list for years: Elephant trekking.
Our gentle giant’s name was Ping Pong – the strongest elephant at the park. Riding Ping Pong through a tropical forest was an experience worth waiting for. Resting all my faith on the back of God’s amazing, most majestic creature was an incredibly humbling experience.
For some peculiar reason, I will never forget the last day of the Contiki tour.
A very tired me fell asleep on the beach. Many hours later I was awakened by a spurt of sand being kicked in my face.
Beachgoers were scrambling to get off the beach and find shelter. In true Thai fashion, it had started raining.
“Hmm… I think now is the perfect time to go for a swim,” I thought.
Out into the ocean I went, floating, feeling the raindrops fall down on me.
“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet,” I smiled.