Lounging Around.

“Much have I traveled in the realms of gold,/ And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; / Round many western islands have I been / Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.”

-John Keats.

From Bangkok, it was about an 18 hour trip to Koh Pha Ngan, an amazing island in the Gulf of Thailand. First thing on the island, I headed farther north along the coast and found a cheap bungalow set off the beach and instantly began to explore. Every view of the water was spectacular. The bungalow I stayed in was small and very basic, though all I ever need is basic. Like many places, it was built of spaced out and cracking wooden boards for floors and walls, and an A-frame top balancing for the roof. With all the various holes and cracks, any creature that wanted in, got in. You get use to sharing your room with bugs as a budget backpacker, but what I could not get use to that night was being woken up every 20 minutes by a giant cockroach scurrying across my body. I do not like cockroaches, and after battling it out for about two hours, I went outside and slept the rest of the night in the hammock outside my room. In the morning I walked up the beach and found a new place, much nicer, and only a little more expensive. I did catch 9 of the big, nasty cockroaches and mercifully flushed them down the toilet on my first night. That, I didn’t mind. You certainly get accustom to that sort of thing, just as long as they stay off my face and body while I sleep.

I had two hammocks on the balcony of that bungalow, and a couple chairs, and the whole bungalow at in the shade of leaning coconut trees, sitting directly on the beach staring out to glassy waters. I think the sky and the ocean were at competition with each other to see who could be bluer and clearer. It was tough to call a winner. The ocean varied in color, sea green and sky blue, clear and transparent with gardens of coral. Palm trees with falling coconuts grew from white sands and green hills of bush and trees and rocky cliffs dipped and rose from bumps to hills to mountains. Sand bars traced a shining line through the warm water. In one spot, I saw five very distinct colors of water, each deep and pronounced. I was nearly always the only person on the beach to be seen, with the occasional Thai fisherman wading and casting nets. I spent much of my time there doing almost nothing, which was everything I wanted to do. I rented a moto and zipped all across the island, covering every road and all four sides of the island, some roads clearly not made for a small moto with narrow tires. I passed through jungles and mountains and stepped on the sunny sands of numerous beaches. I swam in water so clean it looked like glass. I spent days on isolated beaches and evenings walking in to “town” for a noodle dinner. I watched the sun set each night from beside my bungalow, and every night a dancing show of lightning flashed wonderfully in the horizon. One night it rained a warm and heavy rain that dripped down wonderfully hard as I walked home. I spent time swaying in my hammock smiling at the simplicity of my days there, and I was grateful. I smiled many smiles there, as the breezes and winds groomed across my face, and life felt glorious, doing nothing, just smiling at warm winds and waiting for another flicker of lightning. The sun and salt also cured my feet and ankles of the itching, blistering, and red leathery rash from the nasty attack of ants. The memories alone are serendipitous, the pleasure of reading a book or taking a nap in a swinging hammock, knowing there is no other thing in the world I needed to do, no other place I needed to be. Such wondrous joy and freedom, and I will always in my heart give thanks and many thanks to that spectacular island, Koh Pha Ngan.

After many days wonderfully spent in Koh Pha Ngan I took a boat to Koh Tao, another island in the gulf. It was also beautiful, and again I rented a moto to explore. One morning I was walking down the stones of a rocky hillside and at a certain angle my mouth burst out these words “Yes, please, and thank you.” I literally burst out those words from mouth, unable to withhold them. The ocean had just come in to view. I did not know such greens and blues existed. The ocean was not one color, or two, but many, and it looked so invitingly fresh and cool. I think such colors are the oceans way of saying “Stop, stay awhile. Join me for a swim.” Dark, white, blue, green, gray, and all in one small pool of lapping water softly hitting white grains of sand. What a joy it was to see it, and to lose a breath or two to such magnificent moments.

Koh Tao is an island famous for its clear waters, and because of that, it has become an island for scuba diving. It is a small island of many hills, covered in rocks and trees. I did what one is meant to do there, and I did two dives, 45 feet down in water that looked like old glass cologne bottles, or the color of Listerine. I swam around gardens of coral, umbrella mushrooms, antlers; it all looked like something from “Willy Wonka” or “Alice in Wonderland.” Fish swarmed around feeding amongst the coral and we spotted huge groupers hiding under boulders of coral. There were fish the color of green kiwi flesh, coral brighter than any tennis ball, fish that looked like a hippy’s freshly tye dyed shirt, and plants and fish that came in a collage of Kool Aid colors. The rays of the sun shone brightly like piercing through a prism window. I had not dived in a long time. It was spectacular.

One night at dark, a storm rolled in, a proper tropical storm. True to myself, I threw off my shirt and spent the next hour running up and down streets, splashing in puddles and standing under heavy streams bursting from awnings and roofs. Thunder boomed and crackled and sometimes I had to look to my side to see if lighting had struck beside me. It flashed for hours. It pounded and poured and streets were rivers. I laid and felt the fast flowing water gushing over me. People looked and laughed and smiled as they hid in shops and under porches, but I did not hide. I did what I do. I danced and celebrated and laughed and smiled and sang. I loved my hours of sopping, soaking fun. I have too much child in me still.

I loved the islands. I did a lot of nothing, just whiled away the days on a seaside hammock, or explored by scooter or by foot. I napped in the shade, basked in the sun, gazed in the dark, and danced in the rain. I liked Bangkok too, with its crazy, frenetic energy, the backpacker scene, the temples, the street vendors, fruit shakes, and muesli and yogurt.

Sing me a song of the islands My serenade that the trade winds blow Sing me a song of the islands Where hearts are high and the moon is low

Where wrippling waters seem to say Aloha au-i-o-ei Bring me the frangrance of ginger Strum your guitars while I dream away Then sing me a song of the islands Aloha au-i-o-ei

“Sing Me a Song of the Islands.” - Hank Snow.