Monday, October 17, 2005
Let's go back not only so that I can regale you with amusing anecdotes, but also because I'm damn cold right now and I want to pretend that I am not. Stupid unadjusted body
The aforementioned bungalow was tough to get to. A traipse through a fancy resortish place was necessary, and then an additional 10-15 minute walk along the beach. Our original destination had become a resort since our guidebook had been written, which means that the costs had increased while quality of service diminished (a strange phenomena in parts-as popularity increases, they stop trying. Odd). As a result, we backtracked a minute and began passing some very ramshackle looking places. A Thai man and woman yelled over to us and requested our presence in what we thought was their place. They called a guy over from the place 2 guesthouses away (which was not open and under construction. All 3 places were separated by approximately 20 feet) and he walked us up to the bungalow in the middle.
Let me describe this place from the outside: the land jumped up quite high just off the beach and this particular place had its front side on stilts about 20 feet up. Beneath it was rock, a busted-up cold drink cooler, various wood pieces and assorted trash. And it looked more than a little precariously perched.
Inside, the floor was there, but there were many gaps between the floor boards, threatening any smallish object with ejection to the mess below. The bathroom door would only close if you straddled the toilet (otherwise your person blocked the way), but at least there was a mosquito net. AND, there was a kick-ass porch. A hammock hung along the porch almost over the safety rail; two chairs and a small table sat against the wall.
All this looked westward out over the ocean, whose waters were about 20 feet from the steps when we arrived.
Since we'd been on the road for a long time (almost 2 days) we were more than pleased with the place. Our joy only grew with each successive lazy and slothful day. Because, ya know, it's hard to not be pleased when each sunset is accompanied with a cold beer and watched from the comfort of our porch. Awesome
The ocean. A large body of water. Which likes to encroach and then recede. Whomever built these bungalows felt no need to respect building requirements set forth in the US. The water at high tide lapped against the buildings (Not ours. Remember, it's 20 feet up). And a ditch of sorts had formed in front of our stairs so at high tide it became necessary to wade thru almost knee deep hot stagnant and filthy water to get to our stairs. Nice.
Out in the water, safety was not easy to come by. For a couple days we'd splash about feeling as tho being stung almost constantly, avoiding the jellyfish floating about. Turns out, after further inspection, that the waster was filled with tiny almost microscopic jellyfishes. Annoying bastards, especially when they get up into your lining-less shorts. Poor C had little red bumps all over from them.
What else. The last couple days there high and low tides seemed to be much more obvious than they had been. The first night we saw the water way out thoughts of a tsunami came to mind and we hurried 'home' to be above it all (hopefully). Nothing happened, however. I need to check the news because I was/am convinced that high tide was going to keep getting higher and the island would be over-run. We got out in time, so it's ok, right?