Steven Raucher's World Tour
2001-08-26 in Ko Lanta, Thailand
Last beaches before Malaysia
As it turned out Krabi did not prove to be the haven I was looking for. More tourists, souvenir shops and over-priced restaurants with photos on their menus (definitely a no-no!). So back on the bike, a quick blast down the coast to find peace and tranquillity, not to mention that ever elusive bungalow on the beach.
There is a wonderful feeling that one gets when travelling on a motorbike, and this is not just the wind-in-your-hair or well executed cornering. No there is something more. There is the feeling of crossing an international border and ferry rides. Ferries are fun! The sense of adventure is heightened, the feeling of going somewhere where access is limited and being in close confines with locals who always want to know more about your trip. In fact I would say that riding ferries is a great way to meet people and enhance the travelling experience. Not quite the throw back to the old days of riding steamers across oceans, but then again this is an overland journey.
There are two short ferry rides needed in order to get to the southern Ko Lanta Island. Once I had arrived it seemed like a mistake. Something was wrong; all the beaches were polluted with plastic, beer bottles and old fishing nets. Apparently this is because the monsoon winds sweep the pollution away from destinations like Phuket and Krabi and bring it to settle on Ko Lanta, and being low season the locals do nothing to clean it up. A very disappointing way to start. But given the nature of the ever-persistent and optimistic overlander I kept driving further south (the island is about 25 kms from top to tip) and eventually found a beautiful sheltered bay with lovely bungalows on the sand with no pollution. I had arrived.
I spent ten days here relaxing and working on this website, and of course eating Thai curries and swimming. Unfortunately all dive sites here were closed due to the rough Andaman Sea. The island is beautiful, the interior, is virtually untouched jungle and there is a national park on the southern tip, not to mention waterfalls and the promise of big monitor lizards, which I never got to see.
Leaving was going to be hard. I just didn�t realise how hard. The day I was leaving everything seemed to be going so well, the bike was packed before 7am, breakfast was delicious and I had said my goodbyes to everyone. I made the 20 km dirt road trip up to the port in good time and it had only started to rain as I pulled into town. Of course by the time I had actually arrived at the port my smile had gone. Instead of seeing the usual queue of cars and trucks there was a marquee pitched on the jetty. Suddenly the whole situation turned into farce; there was a row of four policemen I approached and began to ask what was going on. The first one, Dopey, replied that both the ferry captains were sick in hospital, in turning to Grumpy he replied that both ferries were broken, Moron insisted that it was a national holiday, it was only when Psycho (see picture of his car!!) told me that there was a communist strike did things begin to make sense. I was re-directed back to the old jetty and told to take my bike across the water in the traditional way � by longboat. Upon my arrival at this jetty my first reaction was to gag. My bike fully loaded weighs 300 kg, I began insisting that this was not possible and when the police then told me to wait until tomorrow and see if the strike is over this only fuelled my resolve. Monsoon downpour over, I removed all luggage including boxes from the bike and drove it onto the longboat via a rickety plank resting on beach sand. Once aboard we (the crew of one and myself managed to turn the bike around, contorting ourselves into positions that would have made the authors of the Kama Sutra proud! As we set off across the water I couldn�t stop myself from trying to gauge the depth in the event of a salvage operation. Who says I am paranoid?
We made it across without incident and suddenly the Karma Tourer was back on terra firma. Relief.
I decided to have one last stop in Thailand before crossing into Malaysia, this stop was to be Had Jao Mai, a beautiful unspoilt coast with limestone caves and stalactites hanging from the cliffs. I spent a peaceful four days here before heading up to Trang and then south to Malaysia.
 The only way to travel, not good for the nerves, though |
 the Psycho policeman's vehicle, need I say more? |
 home sweet home for ten days, life is cruel |
 the amazing coastline of southern Thailand, Had Jao Mai |
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