So buckle up kids here’s a quick catch up of the best bits:
So after waking up with fuzzy heads we discover we are in Penang. Heading out into Georgetown we were scoping out the situation in terms of possibly doing some trips. Which naturally ended up as wandering all over Penang buying booze from supermarkets and ending up in a bar. Read more
Woke up really early still pissed as a fart with Caz in my face saying something about awards for being the drunkest person in Langkawi last night, an award which I still firmly believe should have gone to Dennis as at least I didn’t try and lay down in the road after the taxi and say “its all right guys just leave me here, look after the boat”…. Read more
Day 4 (whaaaaat!!?)
Woke up to calamity. The dingy was gone. Nobody knows how (Nate or Caz didn’t tie it up properly in the excitement of disembowelling Bambi, monkey pirates stole it, or it had just had enough and decided to go on holiday. Take your pick). Read more
Day 3 part 2 (Ghosts of convicts past and the butchering of Bambi)
… So as I mentioned previously the island has quite a murky past and as anybody that knows me at all will know – I’m an absolute history nerd I have a slightly morbid fascination for darker side of the stories. Read more
What a day! After eating yesterday’s leftovers for brekkie it was time to really take the island by storm. Tarutao is a national reserve with quite the history, now peaceful with a population of only 80 it hasn’t always been such a haven. Read more
After being plagued by what seemed a never ending and various stream of set backs that were bringing the whole team down slightly, finally on the 12th July more then a month behind schedule and naturally in a raging storm we set sail at approximately 7am. Read more
Ok, so as our epic high seas adventure begins on the beautiful boat the Shangri-La, let me give you a run down of the who’s who and the what’s what. The Shangri-La is a Bruce Roberts 54 foot sailing yacht she originally came from Sweden, and was built there by three Swedish guys for themselves in 1989. In 1994 Brian Key, a multimillionaire entrepreneur bought the boat and him and Dennis sailed together from Dartmouth to Torreviachia. On the way however they got caught in a particularly vicious force 12 storm which traumatised Brian Keys so much he decided he never wanted to sail again. Our Dennis, already being in love with the boat, bought her from the unfortunate Brian Keys and took her back to Bristol. After that Dennis set about revamping her and giving her a new lease of life with the help of Phil Winterton, Stuart Davis, and Bry Pearce which took 5 years altogether. Officially tarted up Dennis, with his sons and step daughters, then sailed her on her new Maiden Voyage to the Mediterranean. After two years tearing up Ibiza together, Dennis’ son Sam went on to be a commercial yacht master. After that Dennis, 3 lap dancers and 2 PR guys sailed her all the way to Egypt. Sam Franklin May, one of the PR guys, also took up sailing as his career and now is captain on a luxury motor yacht in Majorca. Leaving Egypt with only the first mate Tom (who once had a joint with Mick Jagger) they sailed via India to Thailand where Tom went back to work on a Barons boat that he’d worked for previously, leaving Dennis to meet Aeg and Nate in Phi Phi – pre writing mine the following beauties futures without ever having a clue who we were or what it could mean for us.
And here is the motley crew I will be spending the foreseeable future with:
Charlotte: our beautiful not english but MANX (Isle of Manish for those that wernt sure either) lass, she is and drinks like a champion, my fellow female compadre making up a quarter of our male dominated population. Puts up with me holding her hand in bed and together WE GOT THIS. Connection? Yeh.
Caz: Ruins every photo by looking like something out of dolce and gabana (cheers buddy), the master of the playlist, king of aggravating pythons to the point they fly out of trees and if anyone knows anywhere in the world where the Hunger Games are a legitimate thing – Sign. Him. Up.
Nate: Representing the American contingent on the boat, N-Dog doing his glistening and masculine bit is our own self styled Bear Grylls, terrible manners but we’d probably starve without him, fish live in fear, good at an annoying amount of practical things and despite an awful nail biting habit all round good egg.
Dustin: Oh Canada!! Fuckin eh. Is something like a mental drunken overexcited puppy – all of the time – there is no off switch. Can’t catch a fish to save his life, or , ours, but we love him just the same. And with rules for just about everything we say that result in doing T.E.N press-ups every time we say something wrong: he WILL get us in shape. Oh yah.
Aeg: Literally true to say that without our guide, saviour, font of all knowledge we would not have been able to see/do/meet/survive half the things we’ve done so far. Originally from Koh Yao (or Long Island) there is nothing this man doesn’t know or cannot do. Legitimate legend.
Dennis: Well for the few people in the world that haven’t heard of Dennis Charles Bidwell, here’s all you need to know. He’s 65, he’s the captain of our ship, he’s more entitled to Bob Marley pants then Bob Marley himself, his notoriety is world wide, we adore him, we’d be lost without him, theres no one like him. Parent friendly signature line : Hello Darling!”
Paul: The perfect gentleman who had the courtesy to be as excited for me AS me when I went diving and saw my first sea turtle (things he sees most days) and despite having webbed toes could of been one of the Beatles. Also has a glorious head of hair.
So as a hapless backpacker who stumbled onto a little island in southern Thailand called Koh phi phi, after spending a night freezing our nuts off in the Siberian McDonald’s air con almost a year ago, I could not of known what an adventure it would be and adventures it would lead me to.
Phi Phi is like the lover you’d never want to introduce to your parents. The one that everyone warns you about, the one that probably rides a motorbike and has a criminal record, the one that can get you into kinds of trouble you never even knew existed before – and the one you just can’t stay away from. What was supposed to be a few days turned into ten months of dancing barefoot on beaches, falling barefoot off tables (thank you relax bar), falling barefoot down stairs, five stitches in my forehead, half a front tooth smashed out, gallons of alcohol, litres of body paint, more glitter then a party at tinkerbells’ and about 50 random tattoos. I’ve been in love and out of love, laughed till I cried and cried bitter tears until there wasn’t a single one left in me. I’ve seen the beautiful, the ugly and everything in between, the best and the worst – in others and in myself.
Spending nearly a year on a beautiful little island of sin where the only rule is that there are none will change a person. Seriously Phi Phi will bring out sides of you that you didn’t even know were there. I’ve done things that I look back on now and the only words that come to mind are “Jesus Christ!” (And then “please forgive me” as an afterthought occasionally) and I’ve had fellow beautiful partners in crime that I know will be compadres for life. But as in all walks of life the good and the bad thrive and I’ve had the experience of coming across those ugly souls that live on Phi Phi for all the wrong reasons. Living a life without limits is a double edged sword and Phi Phi opens the door for you to do things you know aren’t right that you probably wouldn’t do in other environments and also allows the inherently bad to get away with things that in any western country you’d do time for, things that leave scars on your soul and some of these things have made me hate the island as much as a love it at times.
That said, Phi Phi has given me the ride of my life and I know that it’s changed me, broadened, twisted, scrunched up, added a splash of colour and smoothed out many bits of who I was before. And I’m so glad to have had the chance to come now – despite being some hectic party place Phi Phi is still relatively undeveloped. And that’s how it should stay, I don’t think there was a workers heart that didn’t sink when we saw the sign for a Starbucks going up. As much as Lady Phi Phi is wild and has done things that have made me want to kick her in the face I am, we all are, fiercely in love with her too. She is wild, unpredictable and sometimes frankly dangerous, but for all the hair raising antics of the night, the next day the sun will wash away the dramas and with a short walk you can find yourself a quiet spot of beach and let the island hold you, heal you, and give you a cracking tan.
I felt many things as I sailed away on the yacht that will take me onto my next adventure… Alot of nausea as it was 7 in the morning and I’d spent the last night charging round the island with a bucket dressed as a dominatrix.. but also a sense of peace, almost a metaphorical smile and nod to an old friend that knows .I will miss all of the wonderful friends I’ve made from all over the world for however long or short a time they were in the crazy playing field, and I’d like to thank all of the extra special ones for helping me, loving me, making me smile. My doors are always open to all of you if ever, when ever you need it. Im not sad to be leaving Phi Phi I feel like my time there is done for now, and if and when I want to come back she’ll be there. But I did leave two more little bits of my heart there, one with Phi Phi herself, and one with someone who knows who he is.
So for the 5th time this last year and a half, I find myself alone, in my favourite bar that I always seem to find myself alone in for one reason or another, on Khao San Road. Some of the times have been happy, some times nervous, some times exhausted, one time plastered in mud being shot in the face by a water gun, this time heartbroken.
Travelling is the best thing anyone can do, you hear it all the time – The generic “travelling” – and it absolutely is all the fabulous things people say it is. But what doesn’t get mentioned in any of the Lonely Planets or funny stories is the one shitty thing, the big major sweating bummer about travelling (other then the thousands of bug bites and inevitably getting your camera stolen)… And that is saying goodbye to people you love.
Despite trying to be as hard faced as possible due to the not so delightful scoundrels I’ve had the misfortune to spend time with, essentially I am and always have been stupidly mushy. I get attached like you wouldn’t believe. Seriously. I came to this bar with a solid determination to drink a whiskey and look as morose and menacing as I feel – but I never could stomach the stuff. So instead I’m sat here with a Mai Tai listening to a band who are really very good (although they’ve just started playing “If I Ain’t Got You” by Alicia Keys, which in my current mood I could murder them all for) and this is what I’ve come up with.
There are many ways to love someone. For as many people I meet that I could happily punch in the face, there are 50 more that I wish could be near me all the time. I’ve met and loved so many people on my Asian adventure, and I’ve found myself bereft many a time… To name but a few: my two Dutch boys who I only had the pleasure of spending a few days with. The dream team girls (oh how I cried when our hands parted on Phi Phi pier Sylvia). My obnoxious Canadian, and of course, of course Ireland, Sarah and Erica. You love people in different ways for different reasons – all unique, sparkling and beautiful. You spend days, weeks, even months sometimes on the road with these people. But it doesn’t matter, once they’ve impacted on you that’s it. They’re with you in some, way, shape, form, memory, photograph for life. And as much as you say “it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later”, you know that some of them you’re just never going to get to see again. And that sucks. Especially if you’re as soppy as me.
Then sometimes you rock up to an island like Phi Phi and enter a bit of a different ball game, it still has an expiry date but it becomes a home and for those there for any length of time, the people more like a family then friends. People come and go but you get to know them just a little bit more, and more importantly, you survive Phi Phi together. And then just sometimes you love someone in a bit of a different way. The feel and shape of someone’s hands. The way somebody knows you even if you don’t speak or they can’t see you. The way they can make you laugh by being simply the most ridiculous person you’ve ever come across. By crying into an orange fanta bottle together about something neither of you are going to remember in the morning. By running away from a bar together so fast you end up throwing up along the way whilst crying with laughing. By being so mad with someone you’re determined you’re never going to talk to them again, as you’re walking to their room. By a look, a glance, a song, a stupid video on youtube that no one else finds funny. By surviving rumours, and finding that you can’t sleep that well when they’re not there, even if they do have stupidly dainty ankles.
When you find those ones along the way, and you know that the inevitable is going to strike one day no matter how much you don’t want to think about it, or try to put it off – that’s when travelling can be a real shitter. That’s when you find yourself on your 5th Mai Thai at a bar getting sympathetic looks from the staff, alone again with another piece of your heart stolen and on it’s way to the other side of the world. BUT. I would rather love with all of me and it to go away, I would rather have this life and find myself doing tequila with two Thai boys who are depressed about the football scores, then never of had it at all. I would rather have sorrows to drown, because that means someone meant enough for there to be sorrows there. I firmly believe that these people come into your life for a reason and it hurts so much when they’re not there anymore. But I’d rather have that hurt and spend tonight skyping my mum, then none of it ever happening.
To all you beautiful ones who have meant everything to me, for however long you were there for, and to my own personal Phi Phi wrecking ball… Thank you. I’ve had a fucking blast and if I make it to old and dribbling in a nursing home somewhere it will be memories of these times that will always make me warm and fuzzy inside and give me the strength to carry on being as much of a pain in the ass as possible to the poor bastards looking after me.
And, I suppose, who knows. Life is a funny old thing and just sometimes maybe it will be see you later and not goodbye. X
Sex. It’s everywhere, rammed down our throats from when most of us in the western world are probably capable of a conscious thought. On every billboard, every magazine page, every television screen, clothes, products, music, tooth paste, you name it, we are programmed to strive for the perfect body, to equate happiness with being sexually desirable, from the earliest age. Blah blah nothing we all don’t know.
And that’s where travelling can be rather refreshing. There are places and cultures in the world where everything is not sold, marketed or believed to be achieved by sex and sexuality. I’ve seen them. And I can assure you phi phi island most definitely isn’t one of them. In fact it’s the opposite. It’s still relatively undeveloped compared to other neighbouring islands, which is of course part of its particular charm. There’s no billboards or shopping centres here. But boy, she doesn’t need them. Lady phi phis reputation precedes her, and she doesn’t disappoint.
Come 1am on the beach, other then someone falling off the pole at Slinky the most likely thing you’ll be hit round the head with is a pheromone. Sure people come here to see maya bay and do abit of snorkelling, but that is really a prerequisite. People come here to party. Because as I’ve said many times anything goes here, the air is ripe with desire, the people a walking buffet – pick what you like it’s yours. You can leave your dignity and respect at the pier if you like and consider yourself lucky if a tourist even attempts to make ten minutes tedious conversation before trying to dribble all over your face – because they don’t need to. If you’re not interested likely as not the next thing with tits and a pulse will be.
Now believe me I’m no saint, but even I’ve watched in amazement at some of the madness unfurling around me. I sat cringing over a pizza slice just the other day listening to some girl literally pleading for “just one little root bro, come on” to a panic stricken young chap who was sweating profusely and to his credit still trying to be polite about declining the offer. I felt like weeping on to my margarita. Sex here is like reading a book, or going for a swim. It’s just another thing to do. Once in a blue moon love may have something to do with it, but really here, probably not.
Phi Phi like any of the party places all over the world is just a playground for no strings attached physical pleasure, enabled by alcohol and powered by the lack of boundaries. Which is fine, I’m all for being as sexually liberal as the next person if thats where you are right now. It’s just that I suppose I’m getting a bit tired of it. I know living somewhere like this exacerbates the whole thing, but to a lesser degree it seems to be like that everywhere these days. I choose to live my life on the wild side, I always have done, the idea of two point four kids, a 9 to 5 and a nice house still fills me with dread. It’s not what I’m looking for at all. But on the same level, I’ve been through enough, know myself enough and have reached a stage in my life where a slobbering tourist offering me all the carnal delights the world has to offer for a night, just doesn’t turn me on anymore. No matter how many tattoos or muscles they’ve got.
For me personally as well I have to be extra careful because I fall in love at the drop of a hat. I cannot count the number of times throughout my life I’ve caught myself going bambi-eyed over some douche with a criminal record, and it’s only been in the last couple of years or so that I’ve managed to calm it down somewhat (much to the relief of my poor long suffering friends). However, although I’ve learnt a lot about myself, I’m aware that under it all I’m still a hopeless romantic, and still more prone then most sane people to falling in love. Im also aware that my previous dalliances have made me somewhat more cynical then I ever have been, and I’m aware that there is something of a wall there. So with this knowledge in the back of my head the challenge for me these days is not ticking off someone from every nationality, but more finding someone that will prove me wrong about my weariness of 99% of the male population, even if it’s not forever but just for the time we are together, if good sex happens along the way then so much the better, and if one day something like love actually happens…. I’ll eat my hat.
Lol, just kidding.
Niki In Wanderland 