Tonsai

We arrived in Krabi after dark. Lutz, whom we had nominated our tour guide and leader, went off to find our transportation to Tonsai beach. Lutz was one of the three birthday individuals and had been to Thailand many times with his wife and children. He knew the ins and outs and quickly secured us a private minibus at a reasonable price to the local long-tail boat harbor. From there we took a thirty-minute long-tail boat around the mountain to Tonsai beach, neighboring the more renowned Rai Ley Beaches. Again I imagine that the Thai mode of transportation and mysterious long-tail boat may require further explanation. The long-tail boat is a long skinny wooden boat with a very long out board motor attached to it, giving its name “long tailed boat”. The motor looks like it was pieced together by an experimental amateur mechanic that lacked the parts to build what he or she actually wanted to build and from that ill looking motor a long metal pipe about 2.5 meters long extends into water with the propeller attached to it. It sounds like it looks but provide a relatively quick and smooth ride if quiet waters permit it. The boats all seemed to be the same size with room for between 9 and 12 passengers. If it is raining about 6 of these passengers are kept dry by a little tarp, which often contains adverts for local beers and the like. The long tail boats would be our main vehicle of transport over the next week.

Once we arrived at Tonsai, we settled down for an ice-cold Chang beer while we dispatched Lutz, Sina, Raya (Lutz’s daughter), and Frank to find us clean, charming, and cheap accommodations. After finishing our beers and dinner we hiked up the dark dirt path towards our lodgings. The sound of generators blared around us and I wondered if I would get any sleep over the next week. The sound struck me as bazaar and I realized how lucky we were in our developed western world to live without the inconveniences of less developed nations. How much do I take for granted? I vowed not to let the sound bother me anymore. The next morning I awoke to the startling conclusion that the fan had been turned off. I flipped the switch. Nothing. I looked around and saw a little sign, which politely informed me that electricity would only be available from 5pm to 6am. What was that vow I made last night? “I can do this,” I thought, and rolled over for a restless 2 hours of tossing and turning before finally motivating myself to get up. I heard birds squawking and opened the window to see what was going on. I looked out the door to see paradise. Unlike the hectic of Bangkok and the dry dusty streets of Ayuthaya, I was looking out at a world of palm trees and tropical vegetation with beautiful flowers, birds chirping overhead, and dark green mountains surrounding us. After a short breakfast consisting of bad coffee and decent eggs, we headed down to the beach and caught a long-tail boat to Rai Ley beach West. Today was going to be Kindergeburtstag or rather the birthday celebration that would bring out the youth in all of us. We first walked along the path from Rai Ley West to a cave known as the diamond cave. The kids ran ahead as we turned on our flash lights and headed down the wooden boardwalk. It was a beautiful cave surrounded by stones that glittered brightly in response to our inquisitive light beams. I pointed my flash light straight up to find a group of bats flapping their wings in protest. I had just re-watched Batman begins and waited for the flurry of bats to swoop past me but it didn’t come. Somewhat disappointed I exited the cave and followed the group past the less attractive Rai Ley East to a nice sandy beach. On the way to the beach we heard monkeys and looked above to see them swinging wildly from branch to branch. I had the inkling that this would not be the last time I would see monkeys before my travels were over so I ignored them and pressed on. The kids looked up in wonder at the strange animals overhead. Its sad that we sometimes lose the wonder and inquisitiveness with which we see the world as children. I found myself hoping that this trip would somehow reawaken that part of me.

Unfortunately the name of the sandy beach eludes me at the moment and so for the lack of a better term I will call it the beach of the Penis temple for at the end of this beach there was a fertility shrine with some erect and some fallen erect penis’ where fishermen would go and pray for a good catch. (I’m still not sure what fishing has to do with fertility but oh well. The sand was perfect and the water was warm. After a relaxing swim and some fresh pineapple Lutz called us together and announced that the journey was going to continue. We packed up and followed him to the end of the beach. It was a dead end. Lutz turned and smiled. “This is something that most tourists don’t get to see”. We were fortunate to have a guide who had been coming here for the last 15 years and knew the little secrets. He led us through the forest and up a hill a long and unmarked trail. We traveled along the mountain, jumping from rock to rock, until we arrived at the opening of a large cave. The mouth of the cave enormous and allowed plenty of day light to illuminate the spacious cavern. I turned around to look in the direction from which we had come to behold the glittering ocean before me. The endless potential of the ocean amazes me and the view alone would have been a noble destination for a hike but Lutz pressed on. We went deeper into the cave and slowly the light faded to a dim shadow. We reached a tiny opening with a rope hanging down. I strained to see the end of the rope. All I saw was darkness. Lutz ordered us to turn on our lights and we slowly followed him up the rope into the void. My flashlight was a bike light that I had taken with to use during my travels but I would need both hands to climb the rope and continue after my companions. I turned off my light and put it back in the backpack before scrambling after the others. I went through the opening and saw the headlights in the distance before me. I liked the feeling of being isolated in my own dark surroundings but perhaps only with the comfort of the lights in front of me and behind me. At the end of the rope the path leveled off for a few feet before another rope led up another incline at the top of which I could see day-light. I climbed up to the top and found Lutz unpacking a climbing rope and some harnesses from his bag. To the right I looked out of the opening to see the luscious green forest below me followed by a beach and the ocean. It had started to rain. I looked down to see a drop of about 30 meters. Lutz looked up and grinned mischievously. He looped the rope through a metal ring affixed to the wall and threw the rope down the cliff. One by one we took turns edging backwards over the drop off and abseiling our way down. I remembered the fear I had felt the first time I had jumped backwards off of a ledge. The summer of my Senior year in high school I had been a rock climbing instructor for children and as part of the training was taught how to abseil (letting yourself down from a high location via rope). I remembered jumping and yelling obscenities much to the amusement of my colleague. But the children through themselves off the cliff with eagerness and their bravery rubbed off. I decided to let myself down and had the fleeting idea that I would like to become more acquainted with rock climbing again. From there we went through a severely strenuous hike through dense forest and sharp jagged rocks until we finally collapsed muddy and exhausted on Rai Ley West forty minutes later. Raya quickly bartered a ride for us back to Tonsai where we enjoyed a nice cheap meal, a nice cold shower, and a good nights sleep.