The next day, after breakfast and spying a couple porpoises off the shore, the English speaking woman in the restaurant informed us of the prices of the ferry back to Banpu and taxi prices (250 and 500 respectively) so we packed up a bit early to trek back over the mountain hoping to save a few baht and manage to catch a songthaew back to Pran Buri. On the other side we came to realize the Songthaews truly were the morning food trucks and taxi was the only means for us. We managed 350 to get us back to the train station. But once there we were informed that no trains would arrive for the rest of the day. our only option was to take the bus from the station at Huli (I think it was pronounced). Estimates of 26 kilometers were luckily grossly exaggerated to get us there but we found ourselves utilizing yet another unique means to get there – motorcycle.
Sounds simple enough but remember Rick and I had four bags between us (one of which was my decent sized roller) and a large jug of water. The Cyclist tried in vain for a period to give us instructions and eventually motioned for us to sit down on the seat behind the driver with one backpack on and our other bag on our lap. My suitcase kept me from seeing much of anything for the trip yet kept me from holding on to much of anything else. I hoped powerfully that he would not make any sudden starts, stops, or turns.
Got to the station around 2:30 I imagine and bought our tickets from yet another hole in the wall shop – no station to be seen. A native bought a ticket at the desk before us which reassured us considerably but by now we’d come to realize most every leg of transportation required a certain leap of faith. The bus was considerably more comfortable and speedier than most of our other modes so far. We had originally expected to wait around the train station for a train that would put us in in the morning sparing us a night’s lodging and giving us a shorter period to wait for our flight in Bangkok. But this bus got us in just as it was starting to get dark on the 10th. It also did not stop at any station but literally alongside a highway on the outskirts of Bangkok. A number of cabs waited by for us including a deceptively friendly on who spoke excellent English and claimed to have family in New York. After more than 3 U-turns along the main street nearby Silom Soi we got out and found ourselves a 30 Baht skytrain ride away from where we asked to be left off. The worst part is I recognized the area one stop away from our destination much earlier so it seemed as if he took us there then drove away to tick up the meter some more. Rather saddeningly sobering realization that the more someone speaks English in Bangkok, the more like they are to scam you.
We eventually returned to the hostel where we started our journey but found our room full with only the uncomfortable bed in the 800 room we spent our first night in left. After talking to the manager over the phone we were directed to a nearby Hostel International where we found a fairer 240 a piece room. By the time we checked in we were starving and Rick offered to pay for dinner. Turns out I had been coming down with a pretty bad fever and it was hitting its hardest around this time so the evening consisted mainly of tiredly walking around looking around for a suitable restaurant settling only on a Pizza Hut several blocks away with a combination of cheeses and sauces that hardly sat well, and a bee-line directly back to our room where I promptly fell asleep (I slept the whole bus ride as well).
Happily enough, by morning my fever had broke and my bitter “everyone in Thailand is out to rob us” mood had passed so Rick and I wandered the streets to pick up some last minute souvenirs and a reasonably priced full-body Thai massage that left us both looser and tenser than when we started. After our wanderings we caught a taxi to the airport, checked in smoothly, and caught the shuttle and taxi leg back to apartment equally smoothly. We even had time to grab a some good jiaozi and an episode of the Wire before going to sleep. Our last day felt like a victory, and I drifted off into sleep with a sweet taste on my mouth from the experience. Thailand hadn’t broken us. It hadn’t bankrupted us. It hadn’t even given me a (lasting) disease. Rather we’d seen beaches, national parks, gigantic caves, rode most every form of public transportation, learned a bit of Thai, had our muscles contorted in true Thai style, and soaked up the spirit of something both tumultous and tranquil at the same time. The only bad part about it all was that we had to go back to work two days later. Oh well – need some contrast to make a vacation a vacation, no?
I’ll remember the trip for much more than the 460 photos I took or the entries here. What I’ll remember most is the feeling of peace listening to the waves crash at Laem Thien, and wiping the sweat from my brow under tower palms, and evergreens, finding fellow travelers, and trading stories, the feel of cool sea water lapping at my skin, and the adventure that was simply surviving in a foreign country for two weeks. No regrets. Far, far from it.
