On my travels in Thailand, there have been times of near misses, dangerous near misses sometimes.
It started in Bangkok after a long time of getting lost in Chinatown and walking to the Indian area to buy fabric, while crippled with blisters and near fainting in the heat. By the time I reached the river to catch the boat back to my starting point, I was over it.
I bought my ticket for the boat and made my way towards the jetty, when suddenly people started shouting at me to hurry because it was about to leave. So I ran down the gangway and was about to step into the boat, when it started moving away. A man shouted "jump"- I jumped alright, straight into his arms, and the momentum nearly took us both hurtling out over the other side into the filthy sludge of a river.
Moral of the story: don't wear rubber thongs when jumping onto boats and don't run and jump when people tell you to.
Ko Mak threatened to crack my head open by way of coconuts. The deadly thud heard just as I had walked underneath an offending tree, was eerily frequent.
Moral of the story: wear a hard hat on tropical islands.
In Trat things were going well until I had a massage with a lady who had muscles of steel. My skin was recovering from insect bite attack, but after the session with iron woman, I was bruised and sore in several places. I didn't really think that was the idea of the massage!
Moral of the story: don't mess with ladies who have muscles of steel.
The tuk-tuk mafia met me at the bus stop in Sukathai and I managed to flick off all but one. This nasty little man persisted, and resorted to poking me on the arm and standing way too close. Well, that was his undoing, because, he may not have spoken much English, but he got the gist of my words pretty quickly. The problem was, he seemed to be the organizer of that band of desperados, and the others had melted away after his shenadigans. I was left without transport into town as no-one else would take me because they couldn't let him lose face, and eventually I was cajoled by another driver to go with the tormentor. On reaching my guest house he was reluctantly paid and the girl at reception was taking me to the accommodation, when he shouted at her for some commission because he had delivered me there! She did the quiet Thai thing of ignoring him; I did the loud Australian thing of telling him to piss off.
Moral of the story: do the quiet Thai thing if possible.
After hiring a pushbike to explore the incredible Sukathai World Heritage site, I meandered around the paths throughout the park. In the early morning it was peaceful and cool and I was lulled into carelessness. Going off road, so to speak, was my down fall. As I rounded a tight corner on a dirt track, the bike slipped from under me and I fell onto my side. Humiliation soon saw me jump up quickly and I glanced around for any witnesses. The park was near empty and I climbed back onto my twisted bike and headed back to the proper road. Then my knee and hip hurt and I noticed some grazing. It wasn't until that night that the bruises came out, and I would have to say they were substantial. Now they are fading to a violent puce yellow color.
Moral of the story: don't hire clunker bikes and watch what's around the corner!
Watching the Mekong flow (or rush) by reminds me of a time in Laos, when a German bloke, an Australian bloke and I tried to canoe across a river flowing just as fast as the Mekong is presently. We got about half way in the strong current, when the German spat the dummy and insisted we return to the jetty. We two Aussies thought he was wimp, so we decided to go by ourselves. The current swirled us in circles and we were pretty hopeless. Unfortunately, we started to go faster and as someone watched from the high cliff, I shouted at him to throw down our passports- I reckoned our next stop was Cambodia! Somehow we banged into the bottom of the cliff way down river, and then had to pull on trees and bamboo with our hands and use our paddles to push off the bottom of the river in order to creep back to the jetty. It wasn't easy. Another Australian with a worried look on his face, met us at the jetty, and said he was ashamed to call us Australians after out pathetic effort!
Moral of the story: don't go canoeing with wimpy Germans and hopeless Australians.
All this leads me to my next boat trip in the coming days on the Mekong and hopefully it will not be a near miss. This time it would be all over rover, as the river is flowing very quickly and full of debris- there would be no chance of surviving if tipped into it.
It started in Bangkok after a long time of getting lost in Chinatown and walking to the Indian area to buy fabric, while crippled with blisters and near fainting in the heat. By the time I reached the river to catch the boat back to my starting point, I was over it.
I bought my ticket for the boat and made my way towards the jetty, when suddenly people started shouting at me to hurry because it was about to leave. So I ran down the gangway and was about to step into the boat, when it started moving away. A man shouted "jump"- I jumped alright, straight into his arms, and the momentum nearly took us both hurtling out over the other side into the filthy sludge of a river.
Moral of the story: don't wear rubber thongs when jumping onto boats and don't run and jump when people tell you to.
Ko Mak threatened to crack my head open by way of coconuts. The deadly thud heard just as I had walked underneath an offending tree, was eerily frequent.
Moral of the story: wear a hard hat on tropical islands.
In Trat things were going well until I had a massage with a lady who had muscles of steel. My skin was recovering from insect bite attack, but after the session with iron woman, I was bruised and sore in several places. I didn't really think that was the idea of the massage!
Moral of the story: don't mess with ladies who have muscles of steel.
The tuk-tuk mafia met me at the bus stop in Sukathai and I managed to flick off all but one. This nasty little man persisted, and resorted to poking me on the arm and standing way too close. Well, that was his undoing, because, he may not have spoken much English, but he got the gist of my words pretty quickly. The problem was, he seemed to be the organizer of that band of desperados, and the others had melted away after his shenadigans. I was left without transport into town as no-one else would take me because they couldn't let him lose face, and eventually I was cajoled by another driver to go with the tormentor. On reaching my guest house he was reluctantly paid and the girl at reception was taking me to the accommodation, when he shouted at her for some commission because he had delivered me there! She did the quiet Thai thing of ignoring him; I did the loud Australian thing of telling him to piss off.
Moral of the story: do the quiet Thai thing if possible.
After hiring a pushbike to explore the incredible Sukathai World Heritage site, I meandered around the paths throughout the park. In the early morning it was peaceful and cool and I was lulled into carelessness. Going off road, so to speak, was my down fall. As I rounded a tight corner on a dirt track, the bike slipped from under me and I fell onto my side. Humiliation soon saw me jump up quickly and I glanced around for any witnesses. The park was near empty and I climbed back onto my twisted bike and headed back to the proper road. Then my knee and hip hurt and I noticed some grazing. It wasn't until that night that the bruises came out, and I would have to say they were substantial. Now they are fading to a violent puce yellow color.
Moral of the story: don't hire clunker bikes and watch what's around the corner!
Watching the Mekong flow (or rush) by reminds me of a time in Laos, when a German bloke, an Australian bloke and I tried to canoe across a river flowing just as fast as the Mekong is presently. We got about half way in the strong current, when the German spat the dummy and insisted we return to the jetty. We two Aussies thought he was wimp, so we decided to go by ourselves. The current swirled us in circles and we were pretty hopeless. Unfortunately, we started to go faster and as someone watched from the high cliff, I shouted at him to throw down our passports- I reckoned our next stop was Cambodia! Somehow we banged into the bottom of the cliff way down river, and then had to pull on trees and bamboo with our hands and use our paddles to push off the bottom of the river in order to creep back to the jetty. It wasn't easy. Another Australian with a worried look on his face, met us at the jetty, and said he was ashamed to call us Australians after out pathetic effort!
Moral of the story: don't go canoeing with wimpy Germans and hopeless Australians.
All this leads me to my next boat trip in the coming days on the Mekong and hopefully it will not be a near miss. This time it would be all over rover, as the river is flowing very quickly and full of debris- there would be no chance of surviving if tipped into it.
Sue Gibbins
Long time traveler in the Far East. For more traveling information goes to One-Travel
Travel-Agents-Ireland
Long time traveler in the Far East. For more traveling information goes to One-Travel
Travel-Agents-Ireland
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