Thailand Day 4: Koh Phi Phi (final)

Thai Travels, S01E04.
Based on a true story

The next day, possibly hazy again from last night's consumptions (but I’m not admitting to anything), we decided to take a boat trip around Koh Phi Phi Don and surrounding islands. Stuffed into a stereotypical long-tail boat with some 20 others, we set off. This would turn out to be an adventure.

First of all, as I sat in the back near the engine, I got high, nauseous and then high again from the fumes. Good times. As this poor boat, which sounded like it was near its mechanical death, was directed through the sea’s waves by two very unfriendly men I looked out and saw amazing views. Unfortunately, I was hardly able to catch them on camera so just take my word for it. 

After a while, we stopped at a snorkeling spot and I jumped out of the boat ASAP – my head spinning from the aforementioned fumes. I had a short but good time looking at some fish before getting back on the boat. Finally, the boat stopped at the back entrance to Maya Bay, the beach where “The Beach” was filmed (oh, Leo!).

Let me explain the concept of this back entrance. Because many tourists, the three of us included, are cheapskates we booked the cheapest boat trip possible. However, to enter Maya Bay the official way requires an entrance fee (to keep shit clean and pristine) which would obviously jack up the price of said boat trip. So, the tourist-trap-geniuses of Koh Phi Phi came up with a way to circumvent this fee. 

They ‘installed’ an elaborate rope ladder that, upon climbing it and walking a short distance afterwards, would allow people to visit Maya Bay the cheap way. This ladder started in the rocky water and made its way up along rough-edged rock for some 3 or 4 meters. Things were complicated further by the fact that the waves kept coming so, even as far as rope ladders go, it was really unstable. Oh, and it wasn’t just me that wanted to get up there: it was everybody so there was quite the pressure to keep moving. Anyway, even my awesome descriptive skills cannot fully convey the situation, so here’s some pictures I stole from other people around the interwebs:

Oh, if only it was as idyllic as this...

Not my picture (I left my camera safely on board), but it shows what I'm trying to describe. Oh, and when we were there, the tide was much, much higher.

Let me tell you this. If there was ever, in the four months or so I’ve been in Asia, a reasonable chance for me to die or get seriously injured, this was it - and I ride around on a scooter in Palembang traffic on a weekly basis. Oh, and guess what? I had to get back down to the boat the same way I came up. Yay!

Upon our return to Koh Phi Phi Don after this life-affirming near-death experience, we had lunch, did some more beach and a little bit of shopping.

Regular Michael Jordans, us two...

Hannah's face is priceless.

That night, we had dinner at a lovely, authentic Thai place before meeting up with the Danish friends we made earlier that week at the Irish Pub.   

Not the restaurant where we ate, but it does look good, doesn't it?

Before I tell you where we went, let me ask you this? From what country do you think the sport Thai Boxing originates? Well, I’m pretty sure you got the answer wrong so here it is: Thailand! Amazing, huh? In any case, we were set to meet Dfiza and Lars in the inaptly named Reggae Bar, which sported a Thai boxing ring in the middle. There, crazy tourists volunteered to go into the ring and (try to) kick the shit out of one another for the payment of a free bucket (the #1 threat to my liver this vacation).

As the bar’s staff enticed people to volunteer (they tried me too but I obviously did not go for it: I’m a lover, not a fighter and I could not jeopardize the money-maker (my face). Also, I’m a pussy.), we were properly entertained. They even found girls to fight each other!

I wondered out loud whether their periods would be synchronized by the time they got out of the ring. Nobody knew for sure.

However, the real show didn’t start until two actual Thai boxers entered the ring. From the onset, you could tell these guys didn’t give a fuck because they threw out the headgear with a face that said “I don’t give a fuck”. Even though I’m pretty sure these guys ‘perform’ every night and their act was consequently partially staged, they were fucking mental. Their kicks and hits were lighting fast and incredibly precise. At one point I realized they could probably pluck each other´s shoulder hairs, one by one, with their feet – if they wanted to, that is. Definitely better than the crazy white guys (mostly Jersey Shore style gorillas) whose fighting looked like that of physically challenged bears in comparison to the actual Thai boxers. But then again, who am I to judge?

Meanwhile, we were having a great time with Dfiza and Lars who are like the most awesome Danes I’ve ever met (in all honesty, I haven’t met that many). Already on the first night in the Irish Pub, Lars told me about his knack for losing his flip-flops (three pairs in three nights). So naturally, when he left our table barefoot to have a better look at the fights, I hid his flip-flops. He spent the next 15 minutes looking for them. 

After the fights were mostly over, we headed out to another bar where we enjoyed more shishas and drinks and spoke about many a thing. I now have a reason to visit Denmark, so Lars & Dfiza, you have been warned! When that bar closed, we took the tourist route to the beach for some dancing.

L-to-R: Kate, Hannah, Axel, Dfiza, Lars

Not long after that, the night came to an end but not for a last little piece of drama: some bitch thought she could steal my flip-flops (not on purpose, I must add, but still). However, that was resolved quickly when she realized mine were about three sizes too big for her.

 
Oh, what a day!