Hannah and I left Langkawi Island headed for the small port city of Satun in Southern Thailand. It had been raining all day and we were both wet and tired. We rode around Langkawi during the day and fortunately managed to arrive in time to catch the last ferry. I stripped the bags off the bike and loaded them onto the boat while the ferrymen lifted the bicycle on board and I paid the familiar ‘tip’. It was actually mandatory but, with no receipt or ticket for the bike, I was sure it went straight into their pockets. I managed half an hour’s sleep on the boat and, as we arrived, I woke to realise it was getting dark. Luckily, we befriended some mountain bike riders at the ferry terminal before departure. They had been riding on Langkawi Island over the weekend and were heading back to Satun. They suggested we stay at the local Buddhist temple.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
When we arrived at Thai immigration, my passport was stamped and I was waved through by a smiling customs official. The port was about 15km from the town of Satun and our new friends kindly showed us the way to the temple in the dark and the rain. We arrived at the temple and found a covered pagoda to sleep under. The monks didn’t ask many questions, simply pointing us to a place we could sleep. It was raised off the ground, dry and comfortable and on finding showers and toilets, I thought to myself, I’m really going to like Thailand. Hannah and I noticed a function was on at the temple and wandered over for a look hoping we might find some dinner. People were sitting down under a makeshift tent eating and smiling. Hannah and I both guessed it was a family gathering of sorts. On seeing we were foreigners, we were invited to sit down and soon had trays and trays of food being placed on our table. Hannah later translated that they asked us to eat, eat, eat! We ate delicious curries, soups, and desserts that topped anything I’d eaten in Indonesia or Malaysia. It was only after tucking into our food and with a full stomach that we became curious. What was this gathering? Why were all these people around? After a few quick questions, we soon discovered that we were actually at a funeral!
In Thai Buddhist custom, the way to honour somebody passing away is to put on a feast and celebrate their life. What struck me though, apart from the fact that in the dark we’d found a place to sleep and were feasting at a funeral, was that nobody apparently seemed to be sad. The family that did come over and chat to us were both warm and welcoming. We learned our new friends had been celebrating in this way for five days. Friends, family and relatives had come from far away and this night was the last. In the temple behind where we were eating, there was a photo surrounded by dozens of floral bouquets. Perhaps there was a time to grieve privately, but it seemed a great way to honour a life rather than mourn or be overtly sad. If honouring the deceased meant eating lots of food in good company, then I paid a lot of respect that night.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
The next few days in Thailand were a steep learning curve. A new language and new foods, but what struck me the most was how incredibly friendly the people were. We had hundreds of smiles and lots of ‘hello’s’ all day long. I loved the fact that we could stay in the Buddhist temples. We knew that we could always find a place to sleep at the end of a hard day’s ride. I never had this luxury through Australia, Indonesia or Malaysia. I asked at some Chinese Buddhist temples in Malaysia but was often refused. It was the same for mosques in Indonesia.
There are only a few major roads through Southern Thailand into Malaysia. It’s a bottleneck of sorts, similar to some roads in Northern Australia. In these places, in the right season, I’d always meet other cyclists on the road usually heading in the opposite direction. One such cyclist was an Australian named Gemma. We met Gemma on the side of the road one day as she was pushing her bicycle out of a palm plantation. We started chatting and learned that she was cycling from Singapore to Northern Thailand by herself. Her bike looked new and, with the slick tyres, Hannah and I soon became slightly envious of her speed and apparent ease cycling with us each day. Gemma was good company and decided to join us through Thailand.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
On the very same day we met a couple that had been on the road for a number of years. Their rugged looks, decorated bicycles and worn out gear told a story of joy. We only stopped and chatted for an hour but it felt like I had a connection with these guys, a common bond shared by the experience of being on the road. We exchanged stories by the roadside as cars and scooters whizzed past. We swapped maps, told of dangers and beautiful places to visit while keenly looking over each other’s bikes to find out what worked well. I learned that Peter and Schalla had spent some time living in Pakistan and recently cycled the Karakoum Highway linking Pakistan and China, a route that no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was slightly nervous about. They assured me the pass from Northern Pakistan to China was nothing short of spectacular and was not to be missed.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
Cycling around Krabi was spectacular. Huge monolithic rocks appear from otherwise flat fertile plains. The famous rock formations were dramatic and I enjoyed cycling through a landscape I’d never seen before. With Gemma tagging along, there were three of us cycling north. We found camp on isolated beaches, in temples and stayed with some of Hannah’s contacts scattered throughout Thailand. One such friend of a friend lived in the Southern Thailand city of Trang. On greeting Alex it soon became obvious that she was a ladyboy. I’d never met a ladyboy before and enjoyed, once again, challenging my own false perceptions and dogmatic social conditioning. The difficult part of the night was whether to refer to her as a boy or a girl. Immediately you recognise the physique of a man, but the dress sense and mannerisms of a female. Alex was friendly, welcoming and cooked a delicious curry. We also stayed at a resort in Phang Nga Bay where we met a tomboy. I felt ashamed feeling more comfortable around a tomboy than a ladyboy and I constantly questioned myself why that was. I knew somewhere I’d developed some sweeping generalisations and false judgements that were based on pure nonsense. I was intrigued as to how this conditioning unconsciously happened.
As Hannah and Gemma took the ferry to Koh Yao, I decided to ride around Phang Nga Bay to Phuket. It was a long day’s ride but alone and with a slight headwind, I rode 150km to Phuket Island. I stopped at a temple just short of Phuket town and found myself at another funeral. Once again I was offered food until I was on the brink of a stomach explosion. Unable to speak Thai and without my personal translator (aka Hannah), I spoke to the monks through a game of broken Thai, charades and with the help of a young charismatic girl who decided to play host. Only about eight years old, she’d grab my finger, dragging me around on a temple tour where I was introduced to others and shown where I could sleep. She was a daughter of one of the people attending the funeral and I instantly took a liking to her. She spoke some broken English but, most importantly, smiled a lot. I ended up with a monk’s room to myself. These are usually free standing rooms on stilts. Simple steps led to a small porch and inside was an empty room with the exception of a small wooden bed and a toilet and shower at the back. I decided to sleep on the floor which was, for me, complete luxury. The dorm hadn’t been used for some time and was a little dirty. I decided to sweep the floor, cleaning the bathroom and balcony. It wasn’t a chore in the slightest but an absolute joy. The girl and her friends invited me to play marbles, while the friendly people at the funeral kept me well fed with food under my nose at all times.
I awoke in the morning to the most humbling gesture. A monk in his mid thirties was knocking on my door and, when I opened it half asleep in my boxer shorts, I was handed a bag of food and drinks with quite possibly the warmest smile I’d seen in a long time. Initially I felt uncomfortable accepting food from a monk. In the morning the monks are up at first light walking around the community asking for food. It isn’t quite what we in the West think of as begging, but collecting alms is part of the Thai culture whose tradition dates further than many civilisations. For somebody that depends on food to sustain themselves from the kindness of individuals, receiving food from such a person was an honour.
It wasn’t long before the people at the funeral were up cooking breakfast and, before I had time to eat the food given to my by the monk, I was eating rice porridge with my new friends at the funeral. I spent the morning taking photos and chatting to them. They invited me to a ceremony with the monks. It was in a simple hall. The monks sat in a line on a raised area at the front of the room, while the people sat on mats below. We listened to the monks recite ancient mantras in sanskrit and wai-ed to the monks in between. (Wai-ing is a gesture whereby you bring your two palms together in a prayer-like pose and hold them in front of your face to show respect to a person). All kinds of food that had been prepared earlier was offered to the monks; fish, rice, noodles, curries, seafood dishes, pork, beef and sweets. Although vegetarian, the monks eat whatever is offered to them. It was an insightful experience.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
I’d agreed to meet my contact in Phuket at 12 noon and set off straight after the ceremony for an hour’s easy riding. Nick turned up at our meeting point looking the exact part of the tropical island expat. He arrived in a 1950’s rusty army jeep wearing a lightweight cotton shirt, flip flops and round sunglasses. I Instantly took a liking to him as he showed me the way to his friends’ place nearby. He had a guest staying with him and, as I arrived a day early, he’d arranged for me to stay in a friend’s boutique resort. The Surintra Boutique Resort was nothing short of luxurious comfort in the style akin to South East Asian resorts, with soft furniture, dark timbers, pools and tropical garden surrounds. I checked into my room to find a giant bed with clean white linen, a huge round sofa to curl up in, a large plasma TV on the wall and a spotless bathroom with hot water. I didn’t know what to do with myself. As I dumped my dirty bags on the clean floor and changed out of my smelly cycling clothes, I didn’t know whether to jump up and down on the bed, dive into the clear blue pebble pool or stand under a warm shower for an hour! So I decided to do all three in quick succession, starting with the pool.
I met Hannah and Gemma in Phuket the next day. Nick and his wife Maple turned out to be some of the most giving people I’d encountered on my journey. Not only were they incredibly hospitable and generous with their possessions, but also with their time. Nick was a fascinating character that I could have spoken to for days on end. He’d worked in the ski-fields when he was younger before starting as a stockbroker just weeks before a big stockmarket crash. In our brief conversations over the next few days, I learned he owned one of the most successful real estate companies in Phuket and was also a developers’ consultant, restaurant owner, art collector, art dealer and writer. He was well connected on the island and recently set himself the task of being a quasi environmentalist developing the campaign to rid Phuket of plastic bags. He now hopes to expand this to Phang Nga Bay and Southern Thailand and is looking to reduce waste on the island by continuing educational campaigns aimed at schools and community groups, introducing recycling and targeting heavy polluting industries in Phuket.
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| From Thailand November 2009 – Feburary 2010 |
Nick lined up interviews with the local papers and radio station and his wife Maple kindly offered to show us around the island, helped us get some parts we needed for our bicycles and also cooked the most delicious Western and Asian meals. I met a bunch of Nick’s friends and made some really good contacts throughout Thailand and abroad. The hospitality we found in Phuket made it the ultimate place to rest for a few days.
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