Koh Samui was my final stop. I spent four nights on the island. One day I rented a motorbike and went exploring. It took me about half the day to ride around the island. I stopped along the way at various viewpoints and markets. I hiked to a few waterfalls (photos) and weaved around back roads across the mountainous island. Samui is a relaxed place with happy people and plenty of tourists.

I stayed at Lamai beach. To the south is a rock formation known as the Grandfather and Grandmother. These pictures should tell you why.

The Grandfather:

And the Grandmother:

The story goes that the two were on a boat on their way to Samui to visit their daughter. There was a storm, their boat sank and their bodies washed up on shore here.

Everyone rides motorbikes.

I spent a lot of time laying around by the pool and beach just doing nothing. It was fun. I read two books. “Sunstorm” by Arthur C. Clarke and “The Bourne Betrayal” a book from the Bourne movies. I found these in Beijing and Bangkok, respectively, in the limited selection of English bookstores. “The Bourne Betrayal” had the worst writing I’ve ever come across in a novel. Here’s a quote as CIA spy Jason Bourne heads into an abandoned insane asylum and the author makes an attempt at describing what’s inside: “The interior was farily bare; clearly it was unused now. However, evidence of its grisly past was evident.” I almost threw the book down. It should be noted that Robert Ludlum, the author of the first three Bourne novels (all made into movies) didn’t write this one. Eric Van Lustbader did.

Then I went to Chinatown. In the cab on the way there the driver commented about how there was a lot of traffic because of some Sunday Market. To skip the traffic we took a back way to Chinatown. As we approached the area this Sunday Market was spilling onto the streets so I decided to get out of the cab early.

This market sold everything, but in a different way than the usual “everything” a market might sell. Instead of the standard tourist items, or food, this was a massive open air store – more utility style. Old, probably stolen electronics, tarps, nuts and bolts, clothes, tiny locks, guns, phones, machinery parts, sound systems, again probably stolen, in fact, on my map it says Thieves Market and I’m pretty sure that’s where I found myself.

The narrow street was covered in tarps. Each vendor added their own tarp to the collective shelter. Different colors and qualities overlapped each other letting a soft light through when the sun wasn’t behind giant rain clouds. I bought a sausage on a sick and pushed my way through the crowd. Between vendors on both sides, plus in the middle, there were only two narrow lanes of pedestrian traffic moving at a slow pace. Slow enough to scan everything for sale, fast enough to not get annoyed.

Soon I entered an intersection but it offered no relief to the crowd. In all three directions, ahead, left and right the market continued stuffed with people. I weaved my way around the place for most of the afternoon, examining merchandise that interested me along the way.

I knew the general direction of Chinatown and worked my way to it. I finally got to a main road and some fresh air. Bangkok‘s Chinatown had all the usual markings of Chinese characters. I was glad I could recognize a few. I walked around here into the late afternoon and found a street restaurant where I decided to eat. Instead of just a stand selling food on the street, this place came complete with waitresses and plastic tables lining the sidewalk. I sat down and pointed at the food of the people sitting behind me and ordered that. Ten sticks of meat with spicy peanut sauce and fresh cut cucumbers in sweet and sour sauce. Thailand street food at its best.

After eating I continued checking the place out. I turned down a dark, narrow alley. This one covered by overhangs from buildings on each side. This was the food isle. Fruit, meat and seafood was for sale. Everything fresh. I heard some music coming from a little turn off in the alley and followed it. Off the alley was a small lot before an entrance to a Chinese Wat. Thai boys were playing some sort of volleyball game. Using a net at badminton height and a woven, flexible, bouncy ball, they played some sort of game. One would stand next to the net and set a serve to the back of the court to his teammate who would then hit the ball over the net using his foot. No hands in this game, only feet or head. I watched these guys play for a while. Some could jump high and slam the ball down with their feet. Other hits looked like soccer, jumping with a crooked neck to strike the ball.

The next day I headed for the river. I wanted to see the city from the river but tours were too expensive. Then I found a form of mass transit on the water – a riverboat going the length of the urban river. For 15 baht I bought a ticket and waited for the boat. The boat came roaring up to the dock at full speed. At the last second before hitting the dock, a shipmate jumped out and attached a rope from the boat to the dock. The captain slammed the boat in reverse and brought it to a quick stop. Just like a subway train, passengers hurried off and I jumped on with others onto the boat.

The boat was really like a subway just on the water, long and narrow. Standing room only and adrenalin pumping station stops made for an exciting ride. We zig-zagged across the river to different stations dodging other river traffic. Over filthy, trashed filled water tourist and fishing boats sped.

I got off at the last stop and took the SkyTrain into downtown Bangkok. I explored a mall (nice relief from the 95 degree heat and humidity) and found another market area. Here more touristy stuff and clothes were for sale. But, like Chinatown, I was one of the only foreigners I saw. I always like being in this minority. It really makes me feel like I’m somewhere else.

That night I hopped a bus headed south. An eight hour ride would bring me to the small port city of Chumphon. The drive was overnight. Thai highways are crazy. Instead of the usual running lights you’d see on American highways, trucks here were lit like Christmas trees. Green, blue, yellow and red lights along the tops of cabs and trailers accompanied the usual orange. I don’t know what it is about Thai people but every single truck and most cars were decked out in this psychedelic show of color. It made for a fun ride. I was exhausted after a day exploring and given the difficulty of sleeping on a tight seat on a bus my night passed in a daze of flying colors out the window.

At literally the crack of dawn the bus arrived in Chumphon and I waited for a high speed catamaran. I was headed to Ko Samui. (To be continued…)

Pad Thai on the street, skinned chickens piled high, riverboat mass transit, three dollar massages, a 7-11 every 100 meters and funny lights. Thailand gave me plenty of reasons to smile.

I left Beijing last Saturday. A direct flight on Thai Airways took me to Bangkok. I know it’s cliché, but never in my wildest imagination did I ever think I would be in Thailand the week before finals (in Syracuse). Last year I was studying up, my mind thousands of miles from Southeast Asia.

First off, the flight was great. People weren’t lying when they told me Thai Airways was one of the best. Real porcelain plates with a decent steak (and free wine) in economy class was a nice surprise. After the four and a half hour plane ride I skipped the baggage claim, toting only my backpack, and headed to the bus area in Bangkok‘s Suvarnabhumi airport. Koh San Road was my destination. I refused an offer from a random guy proposing a way to get there and headed to the bus counter. I bought a one way ticket on the airport shuttle into town.

The highway was big, developed. Much more so than any I’ve seen in China. Sitting in the back of the bus I looked out the window as we followed a light rail line from the airport into the city under construction. I soon realized the one-way road I thought we were on wasn’t. We were just driving on the left side. That would be fun when I rented a motorbike, I thought to myself as the buildings grew larger as we neared Bangkok.

The bus weaved around the city for a bit before coming to a stop at the edge of Koh San Road. Koh San Road (sometimes Khoa or Ko, depends on who you ask) is the Mecca for backpackers in Asia if not the world. I stepped out of the bus to see the street crawling with people. I had in mind where I wanted to stay and spotted a sign pointing down a narrow alley. I ducked into the alley following the sign to the New Joe Guesthouse. About 75 meters down the alley after passing small shops, restaurants and a massage place (one I would visit three times in the next two days) I found the New Joe. I inspected a room on the fourth floor then booked it for 350 baht a night. That’s about 11 dollars.

The room was as basic as you can get. Two twin beds (that was all they had left) covered in two sheets each. One to sleep on, one to sleep under. Between the two was a small nightstand. I tossed by backpack against it and stepped outside onto a small balcony. What a view. From my fourth floor balcony I could see a run down shack of a building and a tree with big, oily leaves and a thick trunk. Below was a light blue roof made of that hard, ribbed plastic stuff. Back inside the room, the water worked, some fresh toilet paper was on the edge of the sink, the bathroom was small and dirty. No hot water. Rooms with that luxury were more expensive. The room’s floor was linoleum tile that looked like it had never been cleaned, save for the occasional sweep if it looked dirty to the cleaning ladies. I was exhausted after only three hours of sleep the night before and laid down in my clothes for a quick nap.

After an hour I woke up and headed out. I had the book, The Beach, in my mind since I planned my trip to Thailand and now its story was more than vivid in my mind. Adjacent to the reception desk where I checked in earlier was a travel agent surrounded by a desk full of brochures and advertisements to tour this, boat trip that, scuba this, snorkel that. Out the door and down a step I found myself below that blue roof I could see from my room’s balcony. The restaurant was here.

Back on the narrow ally I followed it until I could make a right turn towards Koh San Road proper. Although I walked it many times in the next two days, the road is only a blur to me. It wasn’t anything new to me. I’d seen similar enough streets in Beijing. What made Koh San different was the amount of white people. I heard mostly English but dabbled in the crowd were hints of German, French, Italian, and even some eastern European languages I couldn’t identify. Even the Thai shop keepers spoke English – the world’s language.

That’s perhaps one of the biggest differences between Thailand and China. (One in a long list.) Everyone speaks some English. Even the old people. It’s the youngest who don’t and that’s because they haven’t learned it yet. I guess that’s because Thailand is so much more developed and open to the west than China. You’d be hard pressed to find someone on the streets of Beijing who can talk about the weather in English.

T-shirts galore, pirated CDs with anything on them, hats, luggage, food, hair extensions, books, pants, fake sunglasses, fake IDs, fake Ralf Lauren, fake almost anything. But not fake people. They were real alright and tried their best to get every last dime (baht) outa you.

I guess cars are technically allowed on Koh San, but it’s not worth it to attempt the drive. Too many people. Motorbikes (mopeds) can easily weave though the masses, though and I had to watch out to prevent being clipped.

In the next few days I’ll continue narration of my week in The Land of Smiles. Stay tuned for photos of Wats (temples) and the island I went to.