20090401 No choo-choo
Abi writes
Got woken up in the night by the rain (Paul was a star getting up to bring the washing in to save it from getting wet). The routine of regular hand washing on Paul’s Big Bike Trip was something I was aware of before arriving in KL, as I only had the space to pack 2 of anything, including essentials, one to wash & one to wear but no spare! However, the reality of arriving somewhere hot and tired, when all you want to do is shower and rest, I was not prepared for. Firstly you have to assess when looking for accommodation for the night can you get away with a room with cold water only to rinse your gear? Or is it too grimy necessitating a room with hot and cold water to do a proper hand wash? Then it’s a case of strip for shower so you can do the washing and hang it up to give maximum drying time. Also sharing one towel (if provided) for showering, saving the other to wring out the washing to aid drying. I have found myself so tired on more than one occasion that I didn’t have the energy to do the towel twisting justice. Paul has been wonderful doing far more than his fair share, I found the prickly heat on my wrists aggravated by the washing. I also hadn’t thought about checkout impact if washing still damp equals folding in plastic bag in top box until arrive at next destination equals may need rewashing as gets nice musty smell. I am by now as I write this fed up of my limited wardrobe, as the photos testify I am more often than not to be found in my Craghoppers Mosquito (insect repellent clothing) long sleeve shirt as whenever I wear either of my two t-shirts or blouse the little critters get a banquet meal out of me (7th April as I’m typing - today’s count: 40 bites, which doesn’t include those already faded).
Soon after sunrise we got up to go for a walk to find breakfast, but I was already melting sat on the bed naked. I’m looking forward to being at home when feeling shower fresh lasts more than 5 minutes maximum.
I remembered Amudha in KL saying how Milo was a popular dink in Malaysia and is like a UK hot chocolate but cold and so we bought some of this to keep us going whilst searching out breakfast and very refreshing it was too. As well as the best way to get a chocolate fix in this climate other than on a Wall’s Magnum ice-cream.
We finally picked a cafe but found we’d have to wait until 10am for it to open and so go to kill time in what appears to be a cemetery attached to a temple. The graves/monuments to the dead were marked by reinforced concrete gold painted figures (Buddhas?). It was welcome to find some shade and listen to the beautiful Thai music floating across the grounds. After wandering around and meeting an artist from Cambodia painting a scene on an outside wall, we hover in the shade and a monk invites us over to sit with him. We learn he is now 25 and started learning to be a monk at age 14. (Paul: I found the overall effect of all the gold brightly painted Buddhas, dragons and other weird creatures to be that of an amusement park.)
After a hearty breakfast of omelette on a bed of steamed rice (what else?!) and a rather pungent chrysanthemum tea, that I imaged if I didn’t know otherwise would taste like poison, we take a different route back to the hotel and find the road sweepers also strimming weeds from the lamp posts. (Paul: this seems one clean city.) For the first time we come across birds in cages strung from the telegraph poles and lamp posts, unsure whether this is something they do to later eat or to bring luck.
At midday we left for the train station but have difficulty in finding it in spite of the directions given by the hotel, mainly because the many locals we stop and ask cannot understand English or the map so we find ourselves reverting to miming a train on the track and saying "choo choo", even this doesn’t make us understood. After bad directions from some petrol pump attendants I advised Paul our best bet was to find a taxi driver to help us. We had seen an earlier sign for the station but as we’ve found their road signage has a habit of running out before you arrive at your destination. Within a few blocks we came across a taxi and with his help and by driving the wrong way down a one way street were soon at the station.
We firstly parked up Vafa to go carry out a reckie before riding her onto the platform and were amazed how easy it was to sort her fare out, but when it comes to it there’s no room for us unless we stand 14 hours in a non-aircon carriage so we head off to the airport to investigate the price of an internal flight to Chiang Mai (or Chow Mein as Paul kept calling it).
At the airport we find it is too expensive to fly there and so sit at a cafe to get a bite to eat and spend a couple of hours planning (a novel experience for Paul’s Big Bike Trip?!) as to how best to make use of the 15 day visa entry/budget. Decision made to return to the same hotel as the night before, we up to leave - after having made use of their ATM and toilet facilities - I suddenly felt someone grab my arm saying "excuse me" and realised we hadn’t paid, I thought Paul had when he’d ordered! This is something so alien to us, usually people hassle you to pay or at the very least bring you the bill fairly promptly particularly when staying so long to hint you should go. We have since found the Thai waiters to be consistently relaxed and have had to consciously think have we paid before walking off.
Unfortunately the same room isn’t free although this time we do get one with working aircon and one less flight of stairs to climb. We popped to Tesco Lotus up the road to buy some muesli for breakfast and to try to get a pressure gauge for Vafa’s tyres. There was a security check to enter the car park, other motos having to lift their seats to show their compartments before being allowed in. As we tour the car park, looking for best spot for Vafa, we notice a couple of rows are filled with market stalls and so decide to head there first. The first stall we arrived at had motor parts/accessories and with a few drawings Paul makes himself understood and a gauge is quickly purchased. Again at the mall entrance there are security guards with scanning devices. Instead of fruit and veg being first isle items in Tesco, we found ourselves at a Buddha with donation boxes before shopping can commence. Amazingly, or at least I thought so until Paul said he had found the same in Dubai, we found some Dorset Cereals on sale and treated ourselves to some pineapple juice to wash it down. (Paul: and finally to locate a new pen to replace Vafa’s on-board ideas pen.)
We rode into town to find dinner but I’d had my fill of noodles, rice and oriental food and so opted for a coca cola whilst Paul ate a much better version of vegetables than I’d enjoyed the night before.
Back at the hotel the planning session resumed. I’d found the Big Bike Trip so far not to be as efficient a way of sight seeing as my usual travel method, although it does have other plus points. In fact as we were riding around I thought of the analogy of Paul as a ball in a pinball machine, the flippers being the locals he meets who make recommendations and send him off in different directions depending on where he lands. So Paul left me in charge of researching on the internet whilst he read the 1996 Lonely Planet Guide to Thailand he’d been given by Charlie in Oxford.
So late into the evening our decision was made Chiang Mai was just too costly and ambitious in the timescales allowed and would have to wait for another day. Province Phang-nga was now our target using Khao Lak as a base to explore Surin / Similan Islands, as recommended by Audley Travel, en route to Phuket.
20090402 Sheltering with the nuns
N7.55639 E99.60876 Kohteng Backpackers hostel, Trang
To make serious progress we are already 20km down the road and stopping to buy a fresh pineapple from a road side stall by 8am. This is quickly prepared and stuffed into a side pannier for later when it delights us both being so tasty.
The tourist signs in Thailand are far better than Malaysia not only being in English but describing what the point of interest is. We pass numerous signs for waterfalls but a hot spring sounds worthy of a detour. Coming to a T-junction and the sign for the hot spring has disappeared. Abi comes on the intercom to say she spotted a concreted pool with railings a kilometre or so back but did not think that could be it so did not mention it. With no choice but to return we ride back and indeed the concrete pool with railings and a dilapidated changing block is indeed the hot spring as I can see it bubbling away. Abi is surprised when I ask to get off the bike to go view it closer, well dip my finger in it at least to find it was indeed warm but there was little else interesting about it. After that we vow to treat the tourist signs with some caution.
While asking directions a few km’s further on Abi gives me a look of horror as she spots the huge spiders that have strung webs across the communication lines hanging from the telegraph poles. With the directions clarified we ride further towards the west coast of Southern Thailand passing fruit and nuts being dried in the road by the locals. The guide book hints that 90 % of the Thais are farmers though I doubt that is still correct as the guide book was 13 years old, but for sure a lot live in the countryside eking a living. Which makes stopping for a toilet pee on the roadside hard as there always seemed to be a property every few hundred metres. Eventually we find a suitable spot at what looks like a disused quarry. I go check the place for Abi and tell her it is secluded and ok for her but suggest she selects some open ground rather than a grassy area. This was because as I went to check the place out a metre long snake slithers passed my boots making me jump back so I make the executive decision not to tell Abi about the snake for fear she will hold till bursting rather than make best use of the ground it has taken sometime to find. Afterwards she agrees it was the right thing to do no to tell her. Relieved in all senses we move on.
Sumano Cave Temple appears on the tourist signs and is also mentioned on my map, thinking it is worth a risk we follow the signs. First passing numerous monks in orange and then arriving at the end of concrete road where numerous women dressed in white, some with shaved heads, direct us to the cave as the rain begins to fall. Abi declines to visit the cave for the opening looks too claustrophobic and so she sits and chats to one of the nuns while I take off my shoes and go down the steps. I do not come up on a damp, dark cave but instead it opens out to reveal a chamber with a brick tiled floor (being swept and mopped by two women) lit by overhead 3-armed-light fittings. It has to be the cleanest, driest, un-claustrophobic cave I have ever entered. Sue, a mid-forties nun, shows me around. First to the chamber where the nuns have breakfast off the floor for it is that clean. Then to a huge nature carved ’hand’ (though the rough concrete underneath the hand looks very unnatural to me). Further chambers reveal Buddhas and revered statues of monks. Another chamber has a teaching room in it with maybe 100 white clad women learning about Buddhism. In one of the chambers I am told this is where women with broken hearts come to pray when they are too useless to do anything else. Sue tells me, at this point, she has a boyfriend in England who visits her for 5 months each year and he is 81 years old.
I return to the surface confident that it is a cave Abi should visit, and with just a little persuading she removes her boots and I show her the cave with the exception of one narrow passage which was quite claustrophobic. Finally we both emerge to find it is lightly raining. After receiving a friendship band from the nun Abi had been talking to earlier we go to the bike. The rain increases and begins to get heavy enough to don waterproofs. By the time we have struggled into them it is so heavy I dare not ride out as I had yet to build up confidence in the Thai roads that no large potholes would be hidden under the water pooling on the roads. We run across and shelter under the monasteries’ kitchen overhang. After less than a minute or so we are invited in to join five or six nuns to eat rice, various spicy vegetables and a minced meat stuffed thing for our lunch while the rain pounds down. We now understand why the golden figurine of the monk who found the cave originally is carrying an umbrella. The rain continues to hammer the tin roof of the nearby dinning area. I take an hours sleep on a thin mat and wake to find it is still coming down and Abi is being chatted up by a few army troupers who are also sheltering from the deluge. The rain is apparently un-seasonal according to Sue which at least gives me some confidence in my own pre-country research and my guide book’s monthly weather forecast. After four hours of waiting the rain begins to calm down and we put all our gear back on again and reverse a wet Vafa from under the trees and onto the track and back to the road. Once on the main highway the roads are not as bad as imagined and we make fair progress to Trang.
Under a black sky and with both of us needing the loo, since the monasteries toilets required removal of our shoes to use which neither of us fancied, I pull up at the central clock tower roundabout. The nearest hotel is the Trang Hotel and they have a room but at 450 Baht (about £9) I am sure we can find cheaper and try and keep our costs under control. Down the road is the Kohteng Backpackers hostel (N7.55639 E99.60876). Perfect, I think, Abi will be able to experience a backpackers place and maybe we will meet some other travellers too. The first room I visit has rain water running in but the second looks perfectly habitual to me, and far nicer than some I have slept in, and at only 180 Baht (£3.60) plus the Honda can be parked next to the reception desk I sign us in.
I warn Abi to ignore her first impressions as although the reception is ideal for riding a motorbike in, even I have to admit the uncovered concrete floor and sad looking sofa and dirty coffee table is hardly the most salubrious hotel foyer but the room is fine if not luxurious. (Abi: Paul had started to tell the receptionist I would see the room before we took it, however, having seen the 5 star claim on the sign and that we could park Vafa so securely I interrupted Paul to say we’d take it, as I also thought it would give me a more authentic View from the Saddle experience. However as my eyes adjusted to the darkness as I dismounted Vafa, I am horrified by what I see; a disused/derelict basement kitchen black with rust, grease layers and years of dust mixed in that gave the appearance of a greasy black volcanic ash sprayed all over every surface, adorned with antique cobwebs, a hell hole. As I removed my helmet the putrid smell of cooking oil used 1,000 times makes me want to hold my breath or heave and I wonder what I’ve let myself in for. With trepidation we climb the stairs to our door. On entering the room I find the flooring material to be that of a garage workshop and look up to see some of the greasy fluff from the basement, albeit of a lesser maturity, clinging to the ceiling fan ready to be dispersed into our midst and so I told Paul that’s out of bounds to use. The next thing to catch my eye is the cobwebs in the corners of the cornice, followed by the mirror. I get the tissues that had been soaked in the rain and run one across the top of the mirror to show Paul how long it had been since cleaned and then proceed to make the mirror glass usable. Next to catch my attention is the filthy dust layers trapped in the headboard making me consider sleeping in the bed head to toe. I glanced at the pillows peaking from their cases and ask Paul to remove them, I’d rather sleep without for the 100s of previous occupants grime. In disbelief I watch Paul poof them dispersing allergen city before me! After this brief encounter before my hotel and catering housekeeper eye could cast it’s professional opinion I remove my biker gear and sit on a plastic bag on the mattress for fear of bed bug bites. That night as I drifted off to sleep I thought I wanted to push the boundaries of my comfort zone with this trip, but it’s been blown wide open.)
After making the room look like home (strewing our wet biker gear anywhere and everywhere), showering (while trying to avoid counting the spiders in the bathroom), there is nothing to do but venture out into the early evening of Trang town. We wander about a bit, eat and try to enjoy what looks like a Buddhist monk graduation ceremony but the praying goes on and on so we return to our room and setup the maximum mozzie and creatures unknown protection we can prior to, and all things considered, a good-nights sleep.
20090403 More miles, more rain and more luxury
N8.76466 E98.26514 Royal Bangsak Beach Resort
Paul writes:
Keen to enjoy the cooler morning air (and Abi keen to be out of the Kohteng Hotel) we are up, have eat our watered musuli and riding by 7.30am. We follow route 4 for most of the way from Trang first to Krabbie and then into Penang aha state.
Everything is fine but I get into a bit of a panic as the supposedly water-proof voltmeter shows the battery voltage as dropping slowly. In the sunshine it is difficult to see if the lights get brighter with engine revs so eventually I pull into a small mechanic shop, so small Abi is convicenced I am riding into someone’s front room. A quick check, showing my voltmeter is playing up, followed by a couple of smiles and wai (a hands together at the chest thank you) and we return to the road riding through Krabbi.
Taking the smaller scenic roads leads to more rain-forests, lovely to experience but again the lack of long views makes the journey feel a bit samey. I have a good blat up a mountain road in the forest, enjoying throwing the bike around as much as I can two up and fully laden before cruising down the other side to stop for lunch. We struggle to make an order but the most delicious vegetable stir fry arrives. Not since England have I enjoyed pea pods, carrot, cauliflower and brocelli cooked just enough to remain crunchy and flavoursome in a light spicy sauce. We ordered a second.
A breeze blew up over lunch, exactly as happened the day before, as we mount up a little rain appears but I only ride 30 metres before it is raining so hard we dive into one of the many roadside shelters. The young locals are friendly and offer us sweets as we wait for a gap in the rain. We then play hop and stop, where we hop on the bike ride a kilo (the local term for a kilometer) hit a wall of rain and stop to dive for cover again. After about the fourth time we give up and wait a couple of hours, alternating between dozing and taking shots of the locals trying to battle their small motorbikes into the rain while carrying umbrellas.
A small break in the clouds suggests the rain will lesson up so armed with all the wet weather gear we try again. Round the corner the rain continues but the roads are not so bad so I continue trying to make Khoa Lak beach but a little voice comes through the intercom to say she will happily pay £100 to find somewhere nice and dry with hot water. The first resort we spot, the Royal Bangsak Beach Resort, looks promising and with 30% discount is below Abi’s request though still way over my regular price but it has hot water (the last three nights had been only cold water) and also a bath - a very rare luxury on my journey so we stop. The reasonably beautiful girl on reception asks me to fill in the registration card and at the same time shocks me as her voice is so low and gruff (the next morning I see ’she’ did not shave over-night and her moustache has grown somewhat).
The room is perfect and we soon make it look more biker orientated as we hang dripping clothes over any surface before enjoying a bubble bath together and later a most delicious coconut Thai curry accompanied by a couple of Philippian singers . The Thai spices in the curry are a delightful enhancement to the tender Duck breast rather than so hot they nuke anything and everything they touch. I wonder if the hot hot spices in India are just used to covered up cheaper cuts of meat.
20090404 sunny side up
N8.64977, E 98.25329 Khao Lak Youth Club
Abi writes
The day got off to a great start by Paul making us tea before we take a walk to work up an appetite for breakfast, to check out the hotel’s pool, beach and gardens. Paul had even been excited about the buffet breakfast at dinner last night as it was inclusive in the room rate!
The breakfast was great, even the lime juice provided to squeeze over the papaya was so fantastic I dipped my croissant in it to soak up the excess. The bread basket for making toast was covered in cling film and two cloth serviettes and it soon became clear why, two small cheeky little birds were trying their best to get their bellies full too, trying to climb up behind the napkin and steal the bread. The made to order omelette was delicious even though I’d witnessed the ladle of oil being poured into the pan.
Back to the hotel room I sun-creamed up ready to hit the beach in my bikini to sun bathe and I finally feel on a true holiday. I decided that I’d do my feet on arrival at the sun bed to prevent the sand sticking, something I’d later forget to do and lived to regret.
After a quick paddle I left Paul to have a swim whilst I relaxed reading Thaiways a tourist information guide I’d picked up from the hotel room. Once back Paul sat on the sun lounger in the shade to catch-up on his diary notes on the laptop, a game we both seem to be constantly playing.
Once we’d reached the point of swim now or never (to avoid missing our extended by one hour 1pm checkout deadline) we went to the sea in spite of my apprehension, as the one and only time I’d swam in the sea before was at Thailand’s Coral Island in 2003 when I was attending weekly swimming classes. Paul gallantly held my hand in encouragement but even so I didn’t like the fact I couldn’t clearly see what my feet were stepping on, due to the waves churning up the sand, convincing myself my shadow was a sting ray and a ball of something was a sea urchin So Paul knelt in the water allowing me to step on board his hips and rest my feet on the backs of his shins until I got my confidence. I felt a big scaredie cat but couldn’t help it. I eventually plucked up courage to walk out further and swim towards the shore but felt the salty sea water stinging my lips and when I tasted it was surprised how concentrated it was, like a saturated salt solution you’d use to gargle with or make yourself sick. I then went to shower off before a quick swim in the pool before returning to our room to shower and re-pack. (Paul: rather surprisingly I found rather than the usual matted mess on my head after swimming in the sea that the water was so fine and clear that my hair felt soft).
Once checked out we bought 40mins worth of Wifi access to upload and publish the work Paul had done on the beach, but we did not use it all, preferring to move before the afternoon storm. Disappointingly we only got 2.75km down the road before the torrential rain came making us pull into the first roadside hawker cum cafe that had a tin canopy for Vafa to hide under. I ordered noodles and stir fried veg which was delicious, before we started the game of spotting various combinations of biker and pillion plus rain gear that we had not yet encountered, in order to pass the time, for we now knew not to expect this to blow over as quickly as in Malaysia. (Paul: with Vafa undercover I was also able to do a few jobs on her and so the time waiting for the rain passed quite quickly).
My feet started to feel sore and so I discretely removed my biker boots (for the Thai’s consider foot pointing rude) and socks to investigate and found the sunburn well burning already.
At 4pm (ish) the rain has stopped sufficiently for us to don our wet gear and head to Khao Lak which was only another 6 km approx away. Once in Khao Lak we ask a few of tourists and a local for accommodation recommendations but all are too expensive. A Swedish couple were very impressed with Vafa’s collection of signatures.
Finally we stumble across the Khao Lak Youth Club and it’s cheaper than the beach resorts on the main road through the village. Perfect little wooden chalets built into the rainforest hillside, so you could look to the right-side in bed and feel in the centre of the forest all alone, although the slope left you feeling you would roll down rather than up the hill which felt most bizarre like a trick of the eye. Once refreshed we walked up and down the main street choosing an Italian restaurant for dinner as we both fancied Pizza which didn’t disappoint. When they’d brought us the menu they also gave us a sheet with the different types of pasta pinned to it so you could understand what you’d get, which was a neat idea we thought. Paul was absolutely famished and so went for a banana smoothie to drink to keep him going whilst waiting for the food. (Paul: it was delicious and so far hasn’t been surpassed). As I was enjoying the first couple of slices of pizza I was enviously eying up the red wine on the table next to us and commented to Paul that it was a shame we couldn’t order by the glass. He’d spotted a sign saying this was possible and so we ordered a glass of house red, which when it came was the equivalent of two glasses and heavily chilled and so we shared it. Upshot was Paul left his hat behind and I didn’t notice I arrived with a man wearing a hat and left with one without ;-)
20090405 Down with the fishes
Paul writes:
The islands around Thailand are a particular highlight, Abi had told me, so 9.30pm the previous night we booked a tour to the Similan Islands about 64km off the coast. Via a number of leaflets from different boat operators we chose Medsye and were duly picked up in the taxi, the usual local style pickup with two bench seats in the back, early. It was quite a shock to find more than 100 people at Medsye’s headquarters but I was impressed they had radios to communicate with each other and the briefing we received about the damage even just one banana skin can do to the coral gave me confidence Abi’s decision to chose one of the more expensive but quality and safe operators, rather than the cheaper option I may (well most likely) have used had I been travelling alone was the right call.
After the distribution of sea-sickness pills but only for the out-bound one hour and twenty minute journey, since for the in-bound we would be too happy or tired to need them, we were let through the Thai Navy base to the harbour where the Medsye speed-boats waited. Having never been on a big speed-boat I was really elated to see that Abi and I and about 30 other tourists would be going on the boat, with three 4 cylinder Honda out-board motors. The sea was flat but I still sat at the back and stared resolutely at the horizon to be sure I did not throw up.
The first of the Similan Islands, known as Stonehenge bay, was were we anchored up in about 5 metres of crystal clear water. With the water so clear Abi was able to stay on the boat, for she feared swimming out of her depth, and see the coral below. Meanwhile I and most of the others put on flippers and snorkels, or in my case swimming goggles, and jumped in. The water was perfect temperature and through my goggles a whole new world appeared with fishes so brightly coloured it was hard to believe they were not painted as well as numerous shapes and types of coral. The goggles let me swim below the water and the flippers allowed me to glide serenely through the schools of fish as if I was one of them. (Abi: there were so many other boats coming and going I was worried they wouldn’t see Paul in the water without his snorkel poking through the water’s surface and his black horizon’s t-shirt camouflaging him against the coral.) A quick swap to a snorkelling mask and I could see even more types of coral as I swam vertically above them. We move onto Na Beach on island number 4 and repeated the same. I really delighted in swimming deep under the surface among the fishes while mindful of the need to avoid the corals with the backwash from my flippers.
For lunch we move again, this time to a very busy bay where various operators were offloading their payloads of tourists to the only beach with a small restaurant. The speedboat could get within 5-6 metres of land so we got off the back and into a couple of feet of water to walk through before reaching one of the finest white sandy beaches I have seen like icing sugar under foot. Here Abi was able to paddle and see various fish pass by though it was really too hot for us to spend more than a few moments out of the shade, so we quickly returned to the beach and shelter to wait for a tasty lunch.
Next stop was Christmas Point at koh Ba Ngu, Island number 9, for further snorkelling, again Abi preferring to stay onboard. The final stop was a visit to Donald Duck Bay, a large rock perched on the island gave the impression of a duck’s head hence the name, where we are invited to snorkel or get off the boat and hike to the viewpoint. As a gentle hike sounds like something Abi and I could do together I encourage her to get off the boat with me, even though the water is waist height. We wade through the water trying to keep to the sandy path clearly visible while avoiding the rocks to the beach. Unfortunately Abi stubs her toe badly here and then things go down hill for the gentle hike I had in mind turns out to be a climb over rocks using wooden ladders, walkways and ropes clinging to the rock surfaces in the powerful mid-afternoon sun making the rocks very hot to touch and all this without anything on our feet. I notice a couple of Japanese girls decline to go up in the first wooden plank but with me behind Abi she gives it a go as we do not know what other delights wait for us around the corner. (Abi: when we arrive at the start of the climb there are three giant boulders to overcome with Boss our guide’s hand and a rope for help to make the leap. My instinct was to turn away at this point as it looked too adventurous a route for me, however, having chickened out of snorkelling out of my depth with a life jacket, as a snorkel mask is an alien device to me, I felt I should push myself for Paul as this was the last opportunity to do something together on the outing. After the initial hurdle was overcome there was a labyrinth of tree roots acting as natural steps around a winding path before arriving at another boulder outcrop. This time we were quite high up and the rough stone looked like it would have a good cheese grater effect if you slipped. Boss had run ahead to pull the rope away from the side and tort to make it easier to have a two handed grip to traverse this obstacle. After much further climbing we arrive at a primitive wooden ladder where the rungs were the wrong way round, necessitating standing with your body weight on the edge, most uncomfortable, but as I reached the top I became paralysed with fear and started to cry uncontrollably as I couldn’t go up or down but my feet were hurting. Some strangers at the top along with Paul kindly outstretched their hands and offered me encouragement to make the final leap. I then found a crevice to cross would be the next test, even though my feet were burning on the hot boulders they didn’t want to move. Paul was a super star going ahead and holding my hand with a strong grip to make me feel confident to cross. At this point I was able to stand against a rock in the shade, to rest whilst psyching myself up for the descent for I couldn’t make the final climb. I felt bad as Paul was gallant staying with me rather than continuing on. We watch a girl walk close to the edge to pose for an ’action shot’ and she tripped on the way back up but managed to right herself avoiding any harm, I dread to think what could’ve happened. Paul made the suggestion that we should start our descent now to do at our pace without any pressure, before the rest of our group returned. Even though I knew what to expect it didn’t help as going down was harder than going up. Paul’s constant patience and encouragement was what saved me from living the rest of my days up there.)
The return journey goes fast and indeed no-one is sick. With the usual heavy rains hitting the mainland as we approach we are able to see a perfect rainbow hitting the sea in front of the boat, though I decline to venture to the front of the boat, which was at some 10-20 degrees to the horizontal, to get the picture as we were given instructions to remain seated as at any moment the boat could hit a wave and throw us off our feet.
Looking back as we sat in the taxi staring at the afternoon rain, I thought the experience was terrific and Medsye looked after us well with food and drink carefully prepared and available after each dive and the guide, called Boss, was particularly attentive to everyone’s need so maybe sometimes the more expensive option is the better option.