The Wanderers Stories

My trip to Thailand

By Abhik Dutta

Seven years after my first trip to Thailand, nothing much has changed in the Kingdom. Most of everything that really matters to a tourist like me are still ‘same same’ and amidst the loud, thumping music of Go-Go bars in Soi Bangla in Patong, Phuket the old adage of ‘no money, no honey’ still holds good. At Dragon Bar, its midnight. The Australians are here. So are the Yanks and their brothers in arm, the Brits.

To be fair, I also see a fair number of Indian tourists, most of them representing Corporate India. Sent here on ‘incentive’ missions. Some of them with a bottle of Singha beer in one hand and a bikini clad go-go ‘artist’ in the other. They have never had it so good in their lives! Smoke fills the room as does the thumping music. Sixteen nubile lasses are swaying to the music that the DJ (wearing a balaclava) is belting out. The poles from which they swing are greasy with their sweat and each time they bend seductively towards the hangers on, there is a loud yelp, followed by grins and more swigs from the bottle. The waitresses announce into your ears that they are thirsty and would like you to sponsor their next tequila. At 400bahts a shot, you realise that inflation has caught on here as well. So, you settle for ‘olange juice’ which costs about 150 bahts a glass.

There is an air of expectancy around the bar as word spreads that post midnight there is a ‘special’ show. The DJ pulls on a piece of cloth hanging above him, a horn blares, and the girls walk off the ramp. The music changes to something more refined, something more traditional, dignified and Thai. But something I have never associated with go-go bars before. 5 girls, who are standing unnoticed in a corner, with flower bands on their head now walk in their stilettos and sashay onto the ramp..topless.

Over the next 5 minutes, they mesmerise the audience with their gyrations that would put a gymnast to shame. The finale is Shakira’s ‘Hips don lie’ and all the girls in the bar including the waitresses, mumble the rest of the words till they reach this century’s 2nd most famous line (after George Bush’s ‘you can run but you cant hide’) and in unison they all scream ‘Hips don lie’ and jiggle their shapely backsides. These are the only words they really know. The atmosphere is riveting. I stumble out into Soi Bangla. There’s a carnival outside. Its 2am. The pubs and bars are packed to capacity. Music rips through the moisture laden air. The street is full of tourists, skimpily clad girls, transvestites, prostitutes, pimps, curio sellers and even 2 men with iguanas. And this is mid-May, the start of the off-season, brought on early this year by the rains that swept in a month before time.

There are only 2 ways to last here in Soi Bangla. You either finish your money or walk off with your honey. As an emotional high, its same same, but different here in Phuket. I wake up the next morning, the splendid views of the sea in front of me and the rain soaked beach of Patong to my right. The sky is grey and rain lashes at the window panes. The hotel, situated on a small cliff on the Southern edge of Patong has gorgeous views of the sea. One of the most badly affected beaches during the 26th Dec, 2004 Tsunami, there is now almost no trace of the tragedy that struck this peaceful place. But today is another day. In an hour, the sun miraculously peeps out from behind the puffs of cloud. We pack up quickly and check out of the hotel. A waiting car zooms off Northward to the Yacht Haven pier, a 45 min drive from Patong. Our last night in Thailand will be spent on an island in the Phang Nga Bay. The resort, aptly called Paradise Koh Yao, on the Koh Yao Noi island is a 1hour speedboat ride away. They tell us that the ride would take us through some of South East Asia’s most spectacular scenery.

At the pier, we are met by Jo, who in broken English, welcomes and escorts us to the waiting speedboat. Within a minute we are zooming across the Bay, the Marina growing smaller by the minute. The water of the sheltered bay is calm, like a lake, unlike the maddening turbulence I had encountered the week before on my way back from Phi Phi island, when we were tossed around like an omelette in the hands of a seasoned chef. Through a small gap between two islands, the speedboat bursts out into the open sea and in front of us is scenery so dramatic, so stupendous that we look on with our mouths open. In the distance, gigantic rocks rise vertically from the emerald sea.

They are of different shapes and sizes, some small enough to hold twenty people at most, others large enough to hold 2-3 villages. They pan out in the horizon, rolling endlessly and seamlessly behind each other till they fade from view. It is a sight I have only seen in travel books and tourism brochures, but nothing prepares me for this. The speedboat swerves past a few such islands, some so close that I fear we would dash into them. The rocky crags rise vertically from the waters, clumps of trees sticking out precariously from the cliffs, while sea-gulls and other birds dart in and out of the rocks. Some of these rocky islands have sublime white sand beaches, some only a few meters in length, and I wonder how many of them have seen human footprints.

The minutes go by and on the stroke of an hour, the boat takes a final bow and turns right around the northern tip of Koh Yao Noi island and there in front of us is this magical cove, with a glistening white sand beach nestling amidst dense foliage, one end of which is guarded by a vertical cliff of limestone. On the other side, in 3-4 tiers are the thatched villas of the resort. Welcome to Paradise Koh Yao, says Jo and dramatically sweeps his hand in front of him with a flourish. We are escorted to our room which has breathtaking views of the cove. Wherever we look there is forest cover that rolls down the hillside towards the beach. The resort is spread over 10 acres of greenery and has private pool villas as well as rooms with a private Jacuzzi all of which have magnificent views of Phang Nga Bay.

We hire a jeep and go about exploring the village. The first 6 kilometers of untarred, undulating road is rendered treacherous with the overnight downpour. We navigate past banana and eucalyptus plantations and reach the main village where we ask for further directions to the pier. The predominantly Muslim population are at peace in the afternoon, taking their noon power naps. Listless children make their way home from school, some dragging their ‘strolleys’ through the dirt roads. We make our way to the Southern end of the island in an hour’s time and more dramatic sea views greet us there. At the main pier, the daily ferry is just about to leave for Phuket, resulting in some last minute flurry of fervent activity as the late passengers run to catch the ferry.

We return to the resort by dusk to the sound of a million insects orchestrating an animal world symphony. Dinner is laid out at the Italian restaurant on the beach. Post dinner, I lie on a hammock tied to two coconut trees that hang on the edge of the water. The high tide brings the water below the hammock and the ‘flip-flap’ sound of the waves lapping against the sand lulls me to sleep. The next morning, I rise late and make my way towards the beach shack where I have seen canoes the previous day. After signing up for a 3 hour session, the yellow coloured canoe is gently pushed into the sea. Armed with a life jacket, a water bottle and my limited knowledge of canoeing, I venture forth into the emerald waters of the cove.

For over an hour I row gently around the bay, slowing down as I near a rock face, craning my neck to peer into the vertical limestone formations. Sometimes I glide under overhanging branches that dip into the water. I spot a monitor lizard make its way out of the water and slithering onto a small rocky outcrop. Birds flit around me, near me and high above in the sky. Apart from the sound of the gentle swell that taps the canoe, I hear nothing else. After a while I am tired and settle in the canoe, the oar resting gently on my waist. The sun is up and it is hot. The resort is far away. Phang Nga Bay and its rock faces stand as silent sentinels in the distance. So much peace. So much beauty. Sometimes it’s difficult to handle both. For the first time I notice the words ‘feel free’ etched on the oar. And as I shut my eyes and cling on to the moment, I truly feel free.

Minutes pass by. And then slowly but surely I start rowing towards the resort. Our boat leaves for the mainland in an hour’s time. We have a flight to catch. In a few hours, I will be in Bombay where life will be same, same but only different this time.

Sikkim Travel Diaries

By Shubendu Banerjee

An account of a travel to South & West Sikkim

(Shubendu Banerjee is a passionate traveler. From the misty mountains of Sikkim to the dense jungles of Bandipur in Karnataka he has traveled to give a free reign to his adventurous spirit. Now, settled in Bangalore with his wife and son he continues to wander into unknown territories as often as his job allows him to)

Our passion for travel & adventure took us to Sikkim with the objective of uncovering the unspoiled beauty of the mountains. We (6 of us) packed into a Sumo from Siliguri, on our way to our first destination Rabangla. As we moved into the limits of Rabangla village, we realised its serenity & remoteness. Made of a couple of scattered houses over the hillside, one main street with a few shops, Rabangla formed a settlement nestled in the serene lap of the mighty Himalayas. We moved into a very beautiful guesthouse (Mt. Narsing Resort), which had been done up in a rustic manner comprising of a sitting arrangement outside, a large log cabin and an open thatched dining space that was very nicely decorated. The living area comprised of cozy tents with the most modern interiors. The guesthouse gave us a sense of being one with nature. A lovely view of the valleys below and the clouds above enthralled us as we sat down for a quick hot meal.

The afternoon was spent walking up and down the only street of Rabangla and savoring the beauty of the mountains. The evening was spent at the dining space, sitting on logs, which served as seats and tree trunks as tables discussing the topics that interested us. Our host lighted a small bonfire for us in the middle of the dining space and we sang and danced away late in to the night. After dinner, the cozy tents helped us to unwind from the day’s journey.

The only things that were unfriendly at Rabangla were the leeches. We had to be careful not to step on to the grassy parts of the road, as the leeches would climb on to our feet at every opportunity. In fact, we had to run between the tents and the dining space, sometimes parading with heavy steps or breaking into a sprint, so as to avoid the onslaught of the blood-sucking leeches.

Morning was as beautiful as paradise. By the time the sun made its way out of the mist to spread its warmth on the mountains, we were ready to visit the Ralang monastery. A short drive up the narrow treacherous mountain path brought us to the gateway of this beautiful monastery. The monastery was straight out of a picture postcard. Its colorfully decorated walls, gold plated crown and gigantic size left us spellbound. A prayer was in progress inside, which provided us with a rare view of prayers conducted the Buddhist way. The monastery contained a huge golden Buddha in the center surrounded by innumerous small ones.

We returned from the monastery and after a quick meal we bid goodbye to the lovely village. We were soon on our way to Yuksom. Tashiding monastery was on the way and so we decided to halt there briefly. Leaving our Sumo at the Tashiding village, we had to trek up the mountainside to reach the monastery. It was a lovely trek up. The moving of the clouds in the valleys below, the sun’s rays illuminating the mountain tops and the greenery of the mountainside all provided breathtaking views. Halfway up the trek, we came across the Buddhist flags that fluttered by the pathway leading up to the monastery. Interestingly, on reaching the top we found that one of the monasteries was controlled by women and it was them who performed all the necessary prayers and rights. Soon, it was raining cats and dogs and we were completely drenched. Our shoes were full of water as we trekked down the pathway to reach our Sumo.

We reached Yuksom late in the afternoon. Yuksom seemed to be a larger village than Rabangla with playgrounds, a school, government offices, a police station and even a hospital. We had reached the last point of a motorable road and if one wanted to see the beauty of the Himalayas beyond Yuksom, one had to trek from there on. We were told that a large number of expeditions to various Himalayan peaks were kicked off from Yuksom. We parked in a hotel that had all modern amenities including TV, hot water and spacious rooms. Weather was not on our side and light persistent drizzle continued through the evening. The rains did not deter us from taking a walk down the road to see more of the place. Since it is located in a valley, it is surrounded on all sides by high mountain ranges. Often the mist would envelop the valley visibility.

We were told that the oldest monastery in Sikkim– Dubdi, is located in Yuksom. The next day, we started for the monastery after a good breakfast, armed with salt in case we encountered leeches on the way. The path was a mountain tract in the dense forest with numerous springs on the way. The leaves of the trees had fallen to make a soft cushion, which muffled our footsteps. Later, as we found out, the leaves also covered a bed of millions of leeches that had made the pathway their home. Leeches, that jumped up on our feet at every opportunity infested the tract. The drizzle, the darkness of the forest, the leeches — all together weaved an uncanny eerie feeling. We were soon at the top. The old monastery building seemed to have preserved the culture & tradition of Buddhism. An old monk lived in the small quarter next to the monastery. Time seemed to stand still for him in this very remote place away from the interference of human civilization. Having seen all of Dubdi, we headed down. Coming down from the monastery was like a race against the leeches. No one stopped even for a gasp of breadth. Neither the rain nor the slippery pathway could stop us from running down the mountainside. Within half an hour we were at the relative safety of the small hospital at the Yuksom village. We rested on the veranda of the hospital and checked our shoes for the leeches before proceeding back to our hotel.

Next, we set out to see the coronation stone. The place has a huge stone throne with very old and gigantic fir trees as a backdrop. A monastery and a small school were located adjacent to the coronation throne. It was a lovely sight to watch the little monks in the making, learning the teachings of Buddhism.

The next day we left for Khechoperi Lake, which is regarded as a very holy lake in that area. As it had rained very heavily the previous night, the road was in a bad condition with lots of loose topsoil and rocks. A couple of landslides had occurred already, and the road was in the process of being cleared for traffic. The driver of our Jeep did some difficult and dangerous maneuvers, as we closed our eyes and prayed. Soon we came to about 5 kms below the lake where a huge boulder from the previous night’s landslide had completely blocked our way. We were determined not to return without a glimpse of the lake and so we decided to walk up the rest of the way. It was a wonderful walk up to the lake. The lake itself is very placid and surrounded by lush green trees. A narrow jetty connects to a platform right into the lake where we stood intoxicated by the cool, green and peaceful surroundings. The blue sky and the surrounding green forest had their reflections on the water. The Buddhist flags fluttered in the light breeze all around. Fish swam in the calmness of the lake. The lake is definitely one of the treasures of Sikkim and is a place worth venturing.

On our way back to Yuksom that day, we stopped at Fambrong waterfall. It was a two step waterfall, very steep and looked very brilliant in the afternoon light. A few locals had stationed themselves at the roadside to guide us down the loose soil, mud and boulders to reach under the waterfall. There was a crude ladder at one end, which reached up to the second step of the falls. The sight of the huge waterfall from underneath and then up the ladder was that of pure ecstasy.

It was a very lazy journey to Pelling, the next day. On reaching Pelling, we dumped our luggage in our rooms and ventured out. Pelling seemed invaded by modern day life with a heavy population of tourists. We decided to walk to the Pemayangste monastery, which was about two to three kms away. We walked along the highway and our silent steps were occasionally disturbed by the loud noise of the vehicles. The exhaled smoke from all these vehicles polluted the mountains and was simply disgusting.

This monastery too, had the very traditional look with exquisite exterior paintings and woodcarvings. Various rooms on the 1st and 2nd floor together made up the huge prayer halls. The walls were lined with images of Lord Buddha and other Buddhist saints of all sizes. A room devoted to the scriptures of Buddhism displayed the various aspects of life in intricate woodcarvings. A small school, an office and a few quarters made up for the premises of the monastery. It was a place where one could gather a lot of information on Buddhism from a host of knowledgeable monks and guides.

Evening meant another walk down the road and we were told that the mighty Khangchendzonga (pronounced “Kanchenjhunga”) range could be seen clearly from Pelling on a clear day. The evening was cloudy and so we waited eagerly for the next morning so as to have a glimpse. Early next morning, we were woken by footsteps of people rushing to the terrace of the hotel to catch a glimpse of the range. Indeed, it was a clear morning with hardly any cloud and the mighty range with the peaks could be seen clearly in all its glory. It was a sight to behold as the morning light illuminated the whole range and there was a radiant glow all around. We could have sat there watching the splendor of the Himalayas for hours, but we had to return home.

Our return journey wasn’t smooth and we had to halt for 6 to 7 hours on the road by virtue of a landslide. Soon we were at Siliguri.

It was an extremely good vacation and the land of Sikkim is unforgettable. The mountains, rivers, lakes, waterfalls and the monasteries had mesmerized us and seem to be calling us back all the time.

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