Thailand Photo Journal

Mae Ya Waterfall in Doi Inthanon National Park

Rocking my high fashion turtle helmet and movie star glasses to go with the puce vespa

Nuff said.

Nate-dogg, I don't think we're in Montana any more! Some of our new friends in Hell and at least they've got all their body parts

The view from the top more than made up for the heepie-jeebies we contracted below

Ko Tapoo, more popularly known as James Bond Island, in stormy Phang-nga Bay. This was used as the set for "The Man With The Golden Gun", which is on my to-view list for when I get back

Braving the 30 knot winds and driving winds on James Bond Island. All the dripping, miserable tourists in their wishful swimsuits made for some pretty entertaining people watching

Ko Panyee, home to a Muslim fishing village all built on stilts. The school kids here have the most amazing view ever, although low tide tends to get a bit pungent

Walking in a Buddhist Wonderland

Everyone we met today tried to convince us not to go to Phang-nga. "Why are you leaving Phuket? This is where everybody goes!" "Phang-nga? There's nothing there!" "Everyone goes to Krabi or Phi-Phi, what are you doing?" Stubborn, rock-headed Americans that we are, Nathan and I found ourselves a bus anyway and trundled 86 kilometers northeast from the glitz and the chaos of Phuket. Something about strolling between a Starbucks and a sprawling Club Med to a strip of white sand populated by scanty swimsuits just didn't have the same appeal as exploring towering islands in the middle of a national park.

Phang-nga itself is a pretty simple affair with a central street where all the signs are in Thai and there's not a Speedo in sight. From the simple tour office facing the bus station we received a hand-drawn map (definitely not to scale) of all local points of interest: 7 Eleven, the three guest houses, various small markets, and a whole list of caves. After dropping our bags and grabbing a quick bowl of noodle soup we set off in search of an adventure.

A mile or so down the road we decided to follow the directions of a helpful pointing statue and took a right turn towards the vertical hills ringing the town. Sure enough, there were more helpful pointing statues guiding us into one of the most bizarre religious complexes I've encountered yet. It started out innocently enough with a row of animals from the Chinese zodiac. Down a set of stairs, however, we found ourselves in hell - quite literally. Concrete figures covered in oozing sores, losing eyeballs from sockets and limbs from bodies, were being attacked by all manners of demons with saws, axes, giant screws, or spears, dripping with garish red paint that was surprisingly effective in eliciting a response. After I picked my jaw off the ground and repressed my gag reflex we made a hasty retreat up a set of stairs that led, disconcertingly enough, into the mouth of a huge cave.

My skin still crawling from the gory scenes below, the cavern seemed more menacing than tranquil, bats fluttering from dark recesses and frogs croaking at us from some gloomy place below. The little golden shrine, hidden in the midst of graceful stalactites and swooping limestone formations, couldn't quite hold our attention as we kept checking over our shoulders for eagle-headed demons. Only when we had escaped through a long winding tunnel in the form of a huge dragon did my heart actually start beating normally again.

Oh, but the adventure wasn't over yet! We'd been through Hell, and now we needed to visit Heaven. A helpful old monk directed us to a narrow staircase made of concrete disguised as wood. We climbed above the rocky jungle all the way up to a shrine perched on an outcropping. It had not one, not two, but three levels, and when we got to the top we forgot all about the bizarre happenings below. Up there we had an amazing view of the jutting green hills fading to blue, out to a flat expanse we could only assume was Phang-nga Bay. We watched kids playing basketball below us and the sun illuminating the cliff faces across the valley.

Thank goodness for those helpful pointing statues, because after all that my poor brain was in no shape to navigate us back to the main road of whizzing scooters and food vendors.

Lean Green Putzing Machine

Despite all its sparkling wats, tree-lined alleys, and delicious cuisine, Nathan and I decided to spend our last day in Chiang Mai outside the city. The best way to get there is by scooter, of course. They're cheap, gas-efficient, and even old ladies can drive them, with a bag of rice and three little kids along for the ride. The lady at the rental shop held Nathan's passport hostage, handed us two ill-fitting helmets, and pointed us to the last bike in the row. Not the shiny black ones, oh no, not even the purple one, but the bright, nearly puce-colored, green steed who would carry our soon-to-be-sorry butts all around the country side.

Getting out of the city was a process of wrapping our heads around driving on the left side of the road, and then hunting down a gas station with super special petrol 95, the only stuff we were allowed to put in the tank. It's amazing how far those little things get with the gas gauge on E. We passed through a couple progressively smaller towns until the landscape gradually opened up into bright green rice fields and darker green mountains rising in the background, our rear ends gradually realizing how uncomfortable the seats actually were.

The real fun started when we reached the turn-off for Doi Inthanon National Park (between 47 and 58 km from Chiang Mai, depending on which sign you believed). We decided to forgo the main park in favor of a closer waterfall, and the little signs directed us through the back alleys of a small town to a serpentine road, twisty and hilly yet surprisingly well maintained. We discovered why when we reached a national park gate another couple of kilometers on. The guard gave us an odd look as we puttered by, but we were too busy navigating curves and dodging cows and their pies to really notice.

Mae Ya waterfall turned out to be a jaw-dropping 280 meter tall cascade at the end of the road. All three parking lots were eerily empty, as was the small village of bamboo-thatched snack bars. The park employees couldn't even be bothered to put on shirts as we walked by. There was another couple already at the waterfall but they left before too long, leaving us to gape at the pounding water and soaring dragonflies dodging through the mist. Soon after we were joined by a group of monks in orange robes who seemed just as excited to get their pictures taken with the waterfall as we were.

On the way back we got caught in a rainstorm, complained of the pain in our cheeks (those seats were not ergonomically designed), and navigated the one-way streets of Chiang Mai in the dark. Three cheers for scooters, especially green ones.

Need to Kill Some Time?

If you're bored and need some inspiration, here are various piles of pictures to leaf through. My wonderful father was able to convince my camera card to talk to the computer, and then put all those pictures online. For flashbacks to Madagascar click here, while if you're more interested in Mauritius and things like rafting on the Ganges and the Taj Mahal, click here. To find out what Kyrgyzstan really looks like click over here. Our Thai cooking instructor told us that eventually pictures from our class will be online, so at some point you'll be able to see our cooking pictures on their website (www.asiascenic.com) - click on September 20.

You Go Market, Come Back

Such were our instructions our first night in Sukhothai. The smiling little woman guarding our guest house door was quite clear on how we should go about finding some food after the 6 hour bus ride from Bangkok. Based on her advice Nathan and I found various types of noodle soup (in restaurants and on the street), three different sizes of bananas, peanuts cooked with honey and sesame seeds, and some sort of peanut brittle with ginger and coconut. That woman was a genius.

We've left that town of old bricks and ruined temples behind for the bustle of Chiang Mai, another six hours north. Although it's the second largest city in Thailand (or so I've heard) the white kids almost outnumber the locals. The maze of alleys that make up the old city are full of restaurants selling sushi, falafel, and kangaroo burgers, massage parlors, guest houses, tour agencies, tattoo parlors, and shady wooden houses doubling as cooking schools. All the decisions make things a little overwhelming.

Nathan and I decided to start with a cooking class, which included a trip to the market and making our own curry pastes. Someday when I have a kitchen again I'll make the pad thai for you, or maybe the glass noodle salad, or even sweet sticky rice with mango. It was all good enough that Nathan is professing a new love for fish sauce.

All the bus rides and fantastic food made yesterday's adventure all the more challenging. This city is home to Chiang Mai Rock Climbing Adventures, a place that runs courses, rents gear, and serves as a center for the climbing community in the north. Since I made Nathan schlep my harness and shoes halfway around the world, we thought we might as well put them to use.

Yesterday a handful of us piled into one of the little red trucks that ply the city and headed out to Crazy Horse Buttress. Along with another American gal named Jill, who carries around a bigger first aid kit than I do, Nathan and I spent the day watching our Thai guides monkey up the rock and then doing some monkey moves ourselves. After a lunch spent in the shade of bamboo shelters we hiked up to the top of the formation only to rappel into the heart of a huge cave. It was a pretty amazing feeling to dangle in midair, looking up at twisted stalactites and down at the floor 30 feet away. The whole thing was so much fun we may have to go back again.

Time Warp

Being back in the hustle, heat and noise of Bangkok it's hard to believe that 32 hours ago I was lazing on a white sand beach watching palm trees wave and pale Germans cavort in the clear water. It's funny how far you can get with a high-speed catamaran and an overnight bus.

My last day on Ko Tao the weather finally showed a glimpse of the tropical paradise it's cracked up to be. Dowsing rod that I am, I arrived with a front of dark clouds and rough seas, and it only got worse throughout my stay. Some of the older ferries couldn't get back to the mainland, the beaches were empty, and Ko Tao's famous diving sites were marred by silt that cut visibility to less than a meter. This didn't stop me from signing up for, and completing, an open water dive course. I'm stubborn enough to carry on regardless of the weather

We started the class off in a little swimming pool whose temperature had dropped dramatically after a couple cloudy days, leaving the Thai instructor, two other German students, and myself shivering despite our wet suits. The ocean turned out to be warmer, although much murkier. The weather was strong enough that even in our protected bay on the southeast side of the island we were getting seasick just bobbing on the surface.

Our final dive was like something out of "Deadliest Catch". The 40 foot boat trundled out of the cove and around to the lee of Shark Island, a small upcropping of rock a little ways off shore. It was just enough to protect us from the worse of the weather, and it's amazing how little you feel 30 knot winds and 6 foot seas when you're under the water, not on top of it. The coolest thing by far was looking up at the heaving surface of the water from underneath, watching the wind ruffle the huge waves and sheets of rain dimple the turbulent surface. That, and the giant pufferfish suspended above us in a fan club of darting silver fish.

Adverse conditions just make for better stories, and the opportunity to come back and be blown away by everything I missed the first time around.

Things Seen On Marathon Cambodian Bus Rides

-Mini-buses exploding with cargo from every possible opening, back door tied down, roof rack filled, people piled on top and hanging out the windows

-Endless green rice paddies spotted with palm trees

-Fuel stations consisting of a hand-operated pump or just plastic bottles full of petrol

-An elephant lumbering down the side of the road

-Herds of cows and water buffalo who obviously have the right of way

-Bicycles invisible under their loads of woven bamboo baskets

-Muslim villages where the women wear pastel head scarves and long sleeves, while the men wander around wrapped only a krama (the checked scarf used for everything by the Khmer)

-Trucks piled twice their height with cords of firewood

-Tasty snacks at rest stops: duck eggs, marinated frogs, fried spiders that are 3 inches long (the frying process sometimes isn't rigorous enough to remove the hair from their legs)

-Channel after channel of the huge Mekong River, spreading wide with all the water from the nightly thunderstorms

-Hammocks, hammocks, everywhere: under houses, between trees on the side of the road, in the back of tuk-tuks

-People under the age of 18 (after all, they make up over half the total population)