Egypt

Our voyage is over and I’m still far behind in my blog so I’m going to be doing slightly shorter summaries from now on. Egypt would be the last country with warm weather that we would experience on this voyage. The dry desert heat was a nice break from the ridiculous humidity in the tropics. Our ship had made port at Alexandria and since Mike and I had a trip to Cairo & Sharm El Sheikh we would not get the chance to see the city. In the morning of our arrival we packed, met Hua (who we had traveled with independently in Japan and Vietnam), and went to the designated meeting place for our group.

Thankfully there were far less people on this SAS-sponsored trip than there were on the Phuket/Bangkok one in Thailand (40 versus 120). The bus ride to Cairo was not notable except for the fact that our tour guide was exceedingly annoying. She talked for most of the 3 hour ride when all any of us wanted to do was listen to our ipods and sleep. She would occasionally raise her voice and say, “Attention, attention!” What she had to say about the history and geography of Egypt was certainly interesting but no one wanted to hear it then. By the end of the trip we would all warm up to her a bit.

Once in Cairo we went immediately to the Pyramids at Giza which sit on a plateau overlooking the city. Everyone else wanted to ride camels but I decided against it, the fifteen minute ride was not worth the price and I wanted the time to take some pictures of the pyramids. The pyramids were really cool to see but I have to say that Angkor Wat is still so much more impressive. The pyramids definitely have grandeur and a classic shape that is very aesthetically pleasing. Despite all of that I just didn’t feel as impressed by them as I was expecting. Maybe I’ve been spoiled? Later in Turkey when I would go to Cappadocia to see the natural geological formations and man-made caves and underground cities I felt that same sense of awe that was present when I visited Angkor Wat. Perhaps the pyramids are just overrated.

After the pyramids we had some free time so we went to buy tickets to walk in one of the pyramids but after seeing the lines and heeding the warnings of our tour guide (she said that if we wanted to pay to crawl through a tiny passage and get dirty just to see a bare chamber it was fine by her but she didn’t recommend it) we turned back to see the Sphinx instead. Hua, Mike and I hung out near the Sphinx for a bit making fun of the scantily clad Europeans. It was made very clear to us on the ship that Egyptians keep their legs and shoulders covered at all times, they are very conservative dressers. So while everyone on SAS were dressed properly there were Europeans dressed in some of the skimpiest clothing I have ever seen, including pre-teen girls with their parents! People often make a big deal out of the way that Americans supposedly dress, very scantily and lewdly, but that image is quickly shattered once you see how Europeans dress. Dignified they are not.

Throughout our entire Egypt trip I felt close to starvation since they kept feeding us at odd hours. Our first day in Cairo we skipped lunch, so when it came time for a (not-so-Egyptian) buffet in the evening we ate as much as we possibly could. We then returned to the Giza plateau at nightfall to watch a laser light show that was tacky, amusing, and very cheesy. We finally checked into our hotel where Mike and I stayed in an executive suite on the 23^rd floor. It was probably the nicest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in and it was really not necessary at all. I invited Hua up to check it out and he told me that he wasn’t even allowed to take the elevator that far, we were exclusive. After coming down to get him he told us that when he opened the door to his room he found boxes stacked everywhere, dozens of lamps on the floor, and mattresses lining the walls. Apparently they gave him a storage room by accident. The contrast between our room and his was so big, it was really funny.

The following morning we endured an early wake-up call and shuffled sleepily downstairs to pick up our boxed breakfasts and headed to the bus for our ride to the airport. I tried to enjoy the breakfast as much as I could with the knowledge that there would be no lunch yet again. The flight to Sharm El Sheik was short and full of Europeans on their way to the resort town for vacation. Sharm El Sheik had been an Israeli resort town since they captured the Sinai Peninsula during the Six-Day War in 1967. In 1982 it was returned to Egyptian control as part of the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty of 1979. Egypt has since developed it further and it remains, aside from Cairo, one of the top travel destinations in Egypt.

Our first day in Sharm was spent on a Jeep safari through the Sinai desert. The Sinai desert is a wasteland devoid of any life. Lone acacia trees dot the landscape every few miles or so and sterile lifeless rocks posing as mountains fill the horizon in every direction. As we made our way through a landscape that would look better on Mars than on Earth one of our guides explained that it is easy to get lost in the desert, only the Bedouins know their way around it, and in fact they were lost right now. After we stopped on one occasion to consult with other drivers and then made dramatic changes in direction I realized we really were lost.

After an hour or so of driving through the desert we stopped in front of 40 camels that we would be riding through the desert (technically they are dromedaries since they only have one hump). Everyone else had ridden camels the day before but I hadn’t and I was a bit nervous. Before I left for SAS I had read an amazing book about three Canadians who rode camels through the Empty Quarter in Saudi Arabia, the world’s driest desert (it hadn’t rained in 10 years when they arrived there). Throughout that book I read about the pain of riding a camel for 14 hours a day in 120F heat, how it felt to get used to riding a camel, Bedouin hospitality, and the feeling of being in such an inhospitable place for months.

Because of that book I was really looking forward to the camel ride and the Bedouin camp that awaited us at the end. I was a bit nervous about the six-year-old child that had the reigns of my camel but he seemed to know what he was doing (until later when he insisted on whipping one of the other kids holding the reigns of another camel). The slow ride through the desert was fun though the swaying motion was not as smooth as the elephants we rode in Thailand. After almost an hour of riding we stopped, dismounted, and gratefully stretched our legs. When I woke up the next morning my thighs would be so sore I could barely walk.

We had come to a Bedouin tent where they were awaiting our arrival with traditional tea and unleavened bread. The shade of the tent was a welcomed relief from the sun and the Bedouin tea was absolutely amazing. They take a normal black tea and add a green herb to it that looks like dried basil but has a very sweet taste to it. The Bedouin men cooking bread over the fire let some of the girls in our group roll the dough and cook it while the rest of us learned about Bedouin culture from our tour guide. Afterwards I bought some of the herbs they use for the tea and then walked around nearby for a bit.

We had the remainder of the day to ourselves so Hua, Mike, and I decided to go to the beach near our hotel. There was a small coral reef right next to the shore that you can stand next to and watch all of the tropical fish swim around you. I loved it and wanted to stay for hours but Hua seemed bored so we decided to go to the swimming pool until we realized the water was too cold for a swim at 5 P.M. when the air begins to cool significantly. That night we ate dinner at an excellent Egyptian restaurant. Hua had pigeon which is a delicacy in Egypt; it was very similar to quail.

After dinner we smoked a hookah which is a water pipe that you smoke flavored tobacco out of. It is a tradition in much of Middle East (as well as Turkey) and as they say: When in Rome (or Egypt) do as the locals do. It makes you feel really relaxed and I can certainly see why they consider it a good way to unwind at the end of the day. Unfortunately it’s terrible for your health. It was nice to try a few times though. We walked around the tourist area for a bit marveling at all of the Russians who had come to Sharm for winter vacation. Like the Europeans we had seen in Cairo the women had no sense of decency when it came to clothing (which was fine by me), luckily in Sharm El Sheikh the locals don’t care.

I woke up on our second day in Sharm El Sheikh feeling horrible. I was so dizzy I could barely stand and I was having really bad stomach pains. I couldn’t believe I had gotten through all of Southeast Asia and India without getting sick only to get sick in a resort town in Egypt! I tried to take a shower without passing out and then went down to breakfast even though I wasn’t able to eat anything. I really didn’t want to miss out on the snorkeling we were going to do that day so I decided I would try to come along even though I knew I should stay in bed. During the 15 minute ride to the place where we picked out our snorkeling gear I began to feel worse and worse and realized that if I didn’t go back to the hotel I would have to come along with everyone else and wouldn’t be able to rest. I told our guide Iman that I needed to go home and she arranged to get a cab for me and even offered to pay for the ride herself.

I went back to the hotel and slept all morning. When everyone came back in the early afternoon for lunch I came along but again could not eat. I felt so dizzy and feverish that I could barely keep my head up. There have been only a few occasions where I felt as sick as I did then. Iman called for the hotel doctor and he took me to his office. He took my temperature which was up to 102F. After describing my symptoms he told me that the constant change in food and environment probably upset the amount of bacteria in my stomach and my immune system responded as if it were being invaded. He injected me with an anti-spasmodic to calm my stomach and an anti-inflammatory drug to keep the fever down. Within 15 minutes I was feeling much better. He was extremely nice and helpful; he even had someone from the hotel deliver anti-biotics and stomach medicine to my room later in the afternoon.

Mike and Hua went out for the afternoon and I slept more or less the rest of the day and into the next. The following day, our fourth in Egypt, I was feeling much better. We drove to the southern Sinai desert to visit St. Catherine’s monastery which contains what is supposed to be the burning bush that spoke to Moses. It is the oldest Christian monastery still in use in the entire world. The monastery itself was impressive. It contains a room of paintings of saints and religious icons, the only of its kind in the entire Muslim word. Idols and icons are banned in Islam; all depictions of religious figures have been destroyed in past centuries. The only reason the paintings in the monastery survived, some of which date as far back as the 6^th century C.E., is because of the remoteness of the monastery.

We visited the library which contains the second-largest collection of Christian manuscripts in the entire world (the Vatican has the largest collection). It was amazing to see all of these ancient texts, some 1500 years old, in very good condition due to the dry heat of the desert. We were given a tour of the library by an American monk who was from Texas and had been living at the monastery for 11 years. I asked him some questions about the manuscripts in the library, I have an interest in some early forms of Christianity that were suppressed by the church after the fall of the Roman Empire and I was interested in whether or not the library had any manuscripts from these early Christians.

On our last day in Egypt we flew back to Cairo and visited the National Museum which has a huge collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Unfortunately, the museum was packed and we had to go slowly as we followed our guide Iman who spent time explaining various objects. Hua, Mike, and I were impatient so we wandered from room to room but mostly stood around waiting for our tour to end. Being forced to go on a guided tour of a museum is inherently boring; if we had had two hours to wander around on our own we would have enjoyed it more.

When we first got to the museum I had to use a toilet so badly. In Egypt there are always men in the public restrooms who stand there doing nothing and then expect you to pay them “baksheesh” which is essentially a tip. It is custom in Egypt that you pay these men even if they have rendered no services. The smallest bill I had was a 20 pound note, but because I had to go so badly I ended up paying the man in the restroom the equivalent of $4 for doing absolutely nothing. I’m sure I made his day.

After we got back to Alexandria Hua, Mike, and I decided we wanted one more Egyptian meal before we had to get back on the ship. We met up with some friends and two of them, Greg and Katie, decided to join us for dinner. As the call to prayer rang out across the city we wandered around aimlessly trying to find a restaurant. An Egyptian man approached us asking us what we were looking for. He had been following behind me asking me if I wanted to go shopping or if I wanted food. I had already learned from Thailand and India that when someone approaches you on the street you do your best to ignore them.

The man approached Greg who had just spent the day with an Egyptian guy he met randomly on the train. He had taken Greg to his house and made him food. He probably had that encounter in mind when this other guy approached him and he agreed to let him take us to a restaurant. We walked through a bunch of twisting streets and made our way through a market. I’ve never felt as out of place as I did then. We drew more than a few stares at the weird sight of four white men and a woman (with a poorly arranged headscarf) being led by an Egyptian man. For all we knew he was taking us to a dark street somewhere where 5 guys would beat us with bats.

Instead he led us to a tiny street-side “restaurant” just like the ones I had eaten at in Vietnam on several occasions. We sat down in plastic chairs and told the man to order us whatever he thought would be good. When our food came the man told us that it would cost us 200 Egyptian Pounds (a little over $30) to which Greg declared, “No, that’s bullshit! That’s bullshit!” Greg is a very outspoken person who once accidentally got into a fight in Bangkok by walking down the street yelling, “3,000 Baht for a pair of jeans? 3,000 baht?!” As he complained loudly to the man I was afraid of what would happen next. The man explained to him that Egyptian people are very sensitive and they do not talk like that, and if he wanted to discuss the issue further he would have to calm down.

The man then told us that he would pay for us and we didn’t need to worry about it. The chicken we were served was the best chicken I have ever had. As we had walked to the restaurant we passed a stall in the market where they were weighing chickens and selling them. The chicken we were eating had probably been weighed, sold, and slaughtered not too long before. As we ate the man explained to us that he and most Egyptians liked American people but they did not like the American government. This was the same sentiment that we encountered in many countries and I’m glad that most people see a distinction between the policies of the American government and the American people themselves.

As the man led us back out of the maze of streets Greg was still upset over being ripped off for dinner (he kept saying that he had been eating meals for 30 Egyptian Pounds throughout Egypt) and he kept refusing to pay. Though the man had told us he would pay for our dinner, when it came time to go our separate ways he insisted we pay the original price of 200 pounds. The rest of us realized that we only had two choices, either pay or run away. The latter option seemed too risky so we all paid our share and the rest that Greg refused to pay. The dinner was so good that the entire experience was worth it even if it seemed like we were close to running into trouble at some points.

India - Days 3 through 5

The rest of our stay in India was much better than the first few days but since I am running out of time on the ship I’m going to have to resort to a summary of events. On our third day in India we went to a tourist office to inquire about guided tours and were told that there were none available. After we stopped into another private tourist office we met John who said he would personally take us on a walking tour of Ooty that afternoon if we chose. He met us at our hotel a few hours later and took us on a wonderful walk through the hills around Ooty, pointing out birds, trees, and various plants along the way. We walked along a muddy path in the forest that brought back memories of our jungle trek in Thailand. Finally we visited a tea factory where we had the chance to see how tea is processed and we were given a free cup of tea. I bought several kilograms of tea there (which cost less than $10).

John recommended that we visit the botanical gardens which were begun by the British in the 1800s and have been maintained since that time. He said that we could visit a tribal village nearby which was easy to get to. All we had to do was walk towards the back of the gardens, up some hills, and we would eventually stumble upon gate that said, “No entrance” which we should ignore and enter anyway. We would probably be met by a man who, if we paid him a small sum, would let us in the village. John also arranged a driver to pick us up at 6 A.M. or so the following day to take us to a national park a few hours away where we could go on an animal safari.

In the late afternoon Mike and I walked to the botanical gardens and wandered around a bit. As soon as we saw how big the gardens were we realized we would never find the Toda (one of the tribal peoples that have lived in the Nilgiri Hills for centuries) village. The gardens themselves had weird trees and flowers from around the world that I had never seen (such as the Monkey-Puzzle tree indigenous to Australia). We eventually found the gate with the “no entrance” sign but were yelled at by someone when we went through the gate so we turned back, disappointed that we wouldn’t be able to visit a Toda village.

On the way back to the gardens we met a young boy on his way home from school, he told us that he “lived in the forest” and pointed back towards the village. It wasn’t until we left him that we realized we could have gotten him to bring us to his home. That would have been an interesting experience. I always think of the really good ideas after it’s too late. After we left the gardens we walked around the Tibetan market which, just as the Russian market in Phnom Penh contained no Russians, was devoid of Tibetans. I bought a small bag to transport all the tea I bought but I hadn’t realized at the time that it was rusting and falling apart. By the time I got it back on the ship a few days later the shoulder straps had ripped off and I barely got it on the ship before it felt apart completely.

On our fourth day we woke up early and met our driver in front of the hotel who would take us to Mudumalai national park for an animal safari. The park itself was only open in the morning for a few hours and since it took a few hours to drive there we had to leave at 6 A.M. The drive down through the hills was stunning. We went around some 30 hairpin turns and probably twice as many s-turns on roads that had only one lane. There were signs on the sides of the roads that said “do not overtake automobiles on turns” which everyone violated at every possible moment. The only way to let a car know you were coming was to beep your horn which meant most of the ride was spent listening to our driver and other drivers beep their horns at each other.

In the beginning of our journey while we were still at the top of the hills we drove through an ancient forest with towering trees. In the early morning gloom everything looked ancient and alien and I kept expecting dinosaurs to wander on to the road. As we slowly descended a few thousand meters the hills were wrapped in a thick mist that would not go away until the sun was high in the sky later in the day. After the spell-binding drive to the park the animal safari was bound to be disappointing. We had to sit on a bus with a bunch of Indian families and their screaming kids. During the 45 minute-long drive we saw elephants, boar, and some other unexciting animals. After it was over we left the park and began another long drive, this time up the hills. It was just as exciting on the way up and the combined four hours we spent driving to and from the park were definitely worth it.

That afternoon we had to check out of the hotel and take a taxi to Coimbatore. From there we would fly back to Chennai on the following day (our last day in port). Driving to Coimbatore required that we again descend through the Nilgiri hills (in a different direction than Mudumalai national park) which this time proved to be nerve wrecking. Not only did we have to deal with passing cars on hairpin turns but many of the other automobiles were large trucks that didn’t bother to slow down when they saw oncoming traffic. There were a number of times when I was sure we were going to be mashed by oncoming trucks (including one military truck that was carry plastic explosives from a bomb-making factory we passed).

That we made it back alive is a testament to the driving skills of the people who probably drive the hill roads every day. We checked into a decent hotel (it had its own supermarket!) in Coimbatore, had some dinner, and then went to the bar where the bartender spent most of the time making fun of us for being American (at least that was how I interpreted it). We went to bed somewhat early because we had to wake up at 4:30 A.M. to get to the airport to catch a 7 A.M. flight (or so we thought).

We lugged ourselves out of bed, packed our things, and checked out without showering due to time constraints. When we got to the airport we noticed something odd, there was no one at the counter for the airline we were supposed to be flying on. I checked our itinerary and suddenly everything made sense. Our flight to Chennai was last night at 8 P.M. not that morning at 7! How could we have been so stupid? When we were originally looking to book our flights we had discussed flying back the morning of our last day in port. When we asked Cheryl to help us book the flights our return flight was changed but somehow in our minds we still thought we were flying that morning, and we were so certain of it we never bothered to check.

So here we were at an empty airport at 5:30 A.M. We were tired and the humidity of the day was creeping up along with a disgusting amount of flying insects buzzing around. There was only one airline counter open, Kingfisher airlines, and thankfully they had a flight that morning that we could take to get back. We spent an uncomfortable couple of hours waiting in the un-air-conditioned airport. I had to use the bathroom but in India public restrooms don’t usually have toilet paper. The power went out in the terminal at one point which got me to thinking about how often they do safety checks of the planes. Eventually we got on the plane and despite the kids behind us who kicked the back of Mike’s seat the entire flight we got back to Chennai in time for our SAS trip to the Theosophical Society.

Mike and I went on the Theosophical Society trip because our Philosophy professor was leading it and we felt that we should attend one of the day trips he was leading. We went with Eva and a bunch of other people from his various philosophy classes. The Theosophical Society was pretty boring and it didn’t change my low opinion of Theosophy. Theosophy was founded by a Russian woman and an American man in the 1870’s. They attempted to combine what they saw as the best of all the world’s religions into one system which predictably meant that Theosophy was a ridiculous mess. They had noble goals but they failed miserably. Along with strong influences from Hinduism, Theosophy includes strange ideas that today we would consider “new age” or “occult” (such as gibberish about “latent powers of the mind).

The Theosophical Society’s headquarters were founded in Chennai (then called Madras) because the founders thought that India, with its long tradition of spirituality, was the perfect place for such a society. After the Theosophical society we visited Kapaleeshwarar, a Hindu temple, which was an overwhelming site. If you ever want to know what India is all about visit a Hindu temple, they encapsulate everything that is India: The smell, the chaos, the color, it’s all very overwhelming. While we were there we saw beggar children being beaten with paddles and Indians used our group as a background for their pictures (a big group of white people is an exotic site in India these days).

Next to the temple is a market that was teeming with people. As we made our way through the throngs of people I felt scared, the first time I ever felt in real danger in any of the countries we had been to. People kept approaching us trying to sell us things and limbless beggars clung to you trying to get you to give up some money. We had to take our shoes off and walk barefoot around the temple which was quite unnerving. India is about the last place on Earth I’d want to walk around barefoot but we had no choice. Accompanying us on our trip to the Theosophical Society and the Hindu temple was an Indian lady who had been an interport lecturer for SAS a few years ago. She was extremely nice and very knowledgeable about Chennai, Theosophy, and the rituals that we saw performed at the Hindu temple. She was very grandmotherly and seemed so excited to be able to teach SAS kids about India again.

After our trip we went back to the ship and Mike, Eva, and I decided to eat a quick dinner before the mandatory on-ship time. We met up with some other friends, quickly negotiated with some autorickshaw drivers, and went to a restaurant that our Indian tour guide had recommended to us. The food was excellent and it was a memorable experience, unfortunately not as memorable as the smell when we traveled over the bridge that went across the sewage river. Never have I smelled something so foul, I wish I could have bottled it up to bring home and share with everyone. Then you would know India.

In the end I have mixed feelings about India. Ooty was beautiful but the bigger cities in India are a mess. There has been a lot of discussion in the media about the economic rise of India and China in recent years and though they make it sound as if both countries are on equal footing it’s not even close. China is years ahead of India in almost every respect and their strong central government is actually part of the reason for this. On the other hand India has the advantage of more liberal social policies (except rural areas that haven’t quite caught up with the times) and Indians tend to be much better speakers of English which is becoming increasingly important. Since each of India’s states speaks a different language English has unofficially become the lingua franca of India (Hindi is the main official language but has traditionally been the language of only one state). If nothing else, India was a learning experience in how to plan and execute private travel plans in a foreign country.

India - Days 1 and 2

Leading up to our stop in India, all of the students had been told repeatedly that India is like nowhere else in the world, that it evades description, that it will change us forever. I don’t know about the last part, but it is definitely the most ‘alien’ place I’ve been to yet. Michael and I decided to eschew visiting Delhi, like most of the other students, because we wanted to get away from the chaos and the heat both of which had been constant throughout all of the cities in Southeast Asia and even more-so in Chennai as we quickly found out. Instead we planned to go to Ooty, formerly a British hill station where the British who ran the state of Tamil Nadu would escape from the sweltering heat of summer in Madras (now called Chennai). Ooty is located in the Nilgiri mountains which are famous for tea and eucalyptus oil.

I felt a lot of trepidation about India and I didn’t know whether or not I was looking forward to it or dreading it. That we would soon be in India meant that we were leaving the Southeast and East Asian countries I had been looking forward to most on this trip (and ended up really enjoying). India also meant that Michael and I would be all on our own since we did not choose an SAS-sponsored trip. Everything on the SAS trips ran smoothly, but on our own anything was possible. As we would find out later, everything did not run smoothly, partly due to Indian incompetence and partly due to our own forgetfulness. That aside, we both had fun and it gave me a taste of what India has to offer (both good and bad things). One day I hope to go back, particularly to the Himalayan states of northern and northeastern India.

The morning we arrived in Chennai I woke up suddenly before my alarm went off and noticed a horrible smell, a combination of sewage and car exhaust, and I knew we were in India. The smell was so bad that I didn’t think I would be able to fall asleep again. Thankfully I did fall back to sleep but unfortunately that would not be the last time I would smell the unique aroma of India. The morning of our arrival at port was routine by now, Michael and I packed what we would need for the next 4 days and waited until it was our turn to pick up our Indian customs forms and our passports.

As soon as we had our passports and customs forms in hand we grabbed our bags and walked to the gangway where we would leave the ship. Leaving the comfortable air-conditioning of the ship I was greeted with a furnace-blast of heat. From our departure in Thailand to our arrival in India 4 days later I had not gone outside on the ship because the heat and humidity have been terrible. Unfortunately there was no escaping it now.

The port we were located at was not meant for passenger ships, it was surrounded by warehouses, tractor-trailers, and various pieces of industrial equipment. While we were on the ship an announcement was made telling everyone to make sure that once we walked in between the two warehouses in front of the ship we should go left and absolutely not go right because it posed a security risk. With those words in my mind I wondered what awaited us past the warehouses. As it turned out the only thing on the other side of the warehouses was more warehouses, stacks of giant steel plates, and a bunch of rickshaw drivers and various suspicious looking characters.

Unsure what to do Michael and I accepted the offer of an auto-rickshaw (a motorized rickshaw) driver to take us wherever we wanted to go. Our plan was to eat at a restaurant in a fancy hotel that was recommended by our Lonely Planet India guidebook. The driver agreed to take us there, or at least that is what we thought he said, so off we went. After a few minutes we came upon a gate with at least 50 Semester At Sea students standing around it. The rickshaw stopped and the driver told us that we had to get off here. We ended up paying the equivalent of $5 for barely a 5 minute rickshaw ride that took us to the front gate of the harbor. That was the first of two times we would get ripped off that day.

After waiting in line in the sweltering heat for 45 minutes we got another rickshaw that took us to the hotel. The driver absolutely insisted on waiting until we finished eating after which he would take us shopping. By the time we got to the hotel my nose and eyes were full of dirt and grit. Apparently there are no automobile emission regulations in India and as a result its major cities are the most polluted in the world. Chennai made Beijing’s air seem clean by comparison and yet Chennai has ¼ the population of Beijing. To make matters worse, in India everyone uses their horns all of the time. In the U.S. using your car horn is strongly discouraged but in India you can be ticketed for not using it in some cases. Since rickshaws are open on the sides a ride through Chennai resulted in a pounding headache from the car exhaust fumes and the constant squealing of horns.

It was a relief to finally get to the hotel and have lunch, especially since we had missed breakfast on the ship. Lunch was pretty good, though we ended up having better meals later. The one good thing about eating in India is that about 80% of the population is vegetarian so most restaurants only serve vegetarian food so you don’t need to worry about being served strange or uncooked meats. Interestingly, I never got sick from the food in India, nor did Michael. Some people I know who have been to India told me that I was guaranteed to get sick despite my best efforts to avoid it. On the contrary, I really don’t know how you can get sick from the food or water in any foreign country as long as you follow the simple rules of avoiding tap water, ice cubes, and uncooked fruits and vegetables.

After lunch Michael and I went to a shopping mall right next to the hotel to find an ATM and waste some time before we had to go the airport for our flight to Coimbatore. In the mall the merchants stood outside their stores and tried to convince passersby to come in and take a look around. It was certainly different from the usual malls back home. Mike and I got conned into visiting some Persian rug store where we bought some gifts (not rugs though). Afterwards we took a taxi to the airport which, thanks to the traffic problems in Chennai, took over an hour.

We arrived in Coimbatore in the evening, picked a random hotel in our Lonely Planet guidebook and checked in. We chose it because it was right across the street from the train station, if it wasn’t for that we probably would have left. The paint was peeling off the walls of the bathroom and the bed was rock-hard due to the paper-thin mattress. This was also the first time we experienced Indian hospitality which is so ridiculous that it becomes annoying. A boy showed us to our room, explained how to turn the lights on with a switch on the wall, showed us where the bathroom is, and turned on the TV for us. It was nice of him but I’m sure we could have figured it out by ourselves.

We woke up at 4:30 A.M. and went to the train station to wait for the 5:00 A.M. train. The lobby of the train station was filled with sleeping people, beggars, the homeless, and those that just didn’t want to miss their train. When our train came we had no idea which car to get into. People were unloading hay and sacks of produce from some cars and other cars looked air-conditioned. We walked into an air-conditioned first-class car and were quickly told that we did not have the appropriate ticket. So we moved to a sleeping car with metal bunk beds, dirty mattresses, and steel bars on the windows. It looked like one of those prison cars that the Nazis used to transport Jews and other minorities to concentration camps.

I was so tired and just wanted to take a nap but I was afraid we would miss our stop. After less than an hour we came to a station that Mike assured me was where we should get off. We wandered around the station trying to find the ticket office for the toy train (so-called because it was a minature steam engine train) we would be taking to Ooty, deep in the Nilgiri Hills. As we made our way to the ticket office a white college-aged girl (who looked as out of place as we did) approached us looking distraught and asked, “Do you speak English?” When we told her that we did she looked relieved. She proceeded to explain that the person at the ticket office told her that there were no more seats available on the toy train. When she exclaimed, “Now I’ll have to take an 8 hour bus ride with a bunch of smelly Indians” we realized just how upset she was.

I couldn’t figure out what country she was from but the girl had a strange accent. We soon found out that Celine was French and had been backpacking with friends through India for several months. She had more recently been spending a week traveling on her own and it was clear that the solo travel was getting to her. We decided to walk over to the toy train, find a seat and sit down, and see what happens. Celine kept asking us, “It is okay if ze sit down but have no tickets? What happens if some persons come to check for ze ticket?” The Indian guys in the car we sat in assured us that everything would be okay and that, if anything, we could bribe someone 200 rupees and stay where we were. All Celine’s worrying amounted to nothing though since no one ever came and asked for our tickets.

The train ride however, was torture. Spending seven hours in a tiny train car meant for five with nine other people is not something I’d like to repeat. The Indians we shared the car with were friends from a local town who decided to take the train together to Ooty. They spend most of the trip laughing and talking loudly. They had an interesting concept of personal space. When one of them wanted to stretch out their legs they would just lay on the others or insist you spread your legs a bit so they could put their feet on your seat opposite them. Celine spent the entire trip obviously upset and when one of the Indian men kept looking at the tags on her backpack she would glare at him.

At one point one of them literally took a bottle of water out of my hands and drank the remaining water that I desperately wanted. They did offer us food such as banana chips but it did not seem like appropriate compensation. We made stops every 30 minutes or so in order to stretch and take in the scenery. I had to go to the bathroom the entire time but since no one knew how long we would stop at each station or scenic point I didn’t want to leave the train. As we went higher and higher into the hills the palm trees gave way to conifers and the air cooled dramatically. It felt wonderful, like coming into an air-conditioned building after spending hours in the summer heat. When we left Chennai the day before it was around 90F and when we arrived in Ooty it was in the mid 60s. The hills were wreathed in mist and covered in neatly manicured tea plantations. This was the first time I’d ever seen tea plantations in person, and since tea is my favorite beverage, it was exciting.

It was such a relief to finally get off the train when we arrived at the Ooty train station 7 hours later. Mike and I took a taxi to the hotel that had been reserved for us. This is when our problems began. The only proof I had that a room was reserved for us was an e-mail from the travel agent and even that didn’t say very much. The staff had no idea that we had reserved a room; they had absolutely no record of it. Frustrated, and with no way to call overseas to find out what happened, we agreed to check in to a room even though we were supposed to have had one reserved anyway. They showed us to several rooms but each one had a problem with it. The last room had no toilet paper or shower, in its place were two faucets and two buckets.

Mike and I asked if we could use the phone and they explained that we would have to walk down the road about ten minutes and we would see a stand on the side of the road with a phone that can make overseas calls. On the way down the road we passed uniformed school kids and a herd of cows. The air was cool and misty but it didn’t help me feel any better about the current situation. We called another hotel in our guidebook, one that was supposed to be “high-end”, and we were told that they had some vacancies.

Back at the other hotel we were notified that our cash advance would be kept and that we would have to pay for a day’s stay even though we “stayed” in the hotel for barely an hour. It was mid-afternoon and at this point we just wanted to eat something because we hadn’t eaten since the previous day. We paid the bill, thanked them for nothing, and took an auto-rickshaw to the other hotel, which turned out to be very nice. We were so tired that we fell asleep as soon as we checked into our room. Later we walked around and took a look at the stores on the main road and then picked a random Indian restaurant. Eating in India was interesting since the menus had no English descriptions and the restaurant staff usually did not speak English well enough to discuss menu items. After a while you begin to identify certain words and get an idea for what is what, but most of the time you guess and hope you guessed right.

Thailand - Days 3 through 5

Our sea-kayaking was to take place in another national park; this one includes hundreds of tiny islands in the Andaman Sea spread out along the coast of Thailand. Our group drove to a pier and got on a boat that would take us to the islands of Koh Panak and Koh Hong. The journey to the islands took about an hour. On the way there we were introduced to our guides and assigned paddlers for our kayaks. Michael and I were assigned Mario who ended up being pretty funny. It rained heavily throughout the one hour ride to the first island and would continue to rain off and on the rest of the day.

When we arrived at the first island we boarded our kayaks and paddled to Oyster cave where oysters hung from the ceiling of the cave. We had to lay down flat on the kayak at the entrance to the cave, even at low tide the entrance was small, and during high tide the entire cave is submerged. We left the cave through the same entrance and followed the cliffs along the edge of the island. Due to the erosive action of the waves the island had a large overhang which loomed overheard of us. The next cave was a bat cave that was pitch black and reeked of guano. Once we went through the cave we entered a small lagoon on the inside of the island. It was absolutely beautiful and I don’t think any of the pictures I took captured it properly. Vines, trees, and all sorts of tropical vegetation clung to the cliffs on the inside of the island. It looked as if all of the plants were slowly descending into the emerald green lagoon below.

After the two caves we went back to the boat and rode to the next island. Koh Hong is the site of the diamond cave, so-called not because it contains diamonds but because within the lagoon there is an opening in one of the walls that is shaped like a diamond. On the way to another cave on the other side of the island we saw monkeys on the shore. One monkey was eating a banana and it climbed up into branches of a tree that hung over our heads. I was expecting it to jump into one of the kayaks but it didn’t. Then we spotted the alpha-male monkey who was strutting along the shore confidently. When he spotted us he walked over to one of the female monkeys, mounted her, and began mating.

This last cave was by far the most impressive. It opened up into a huge lagoon with little islands inside of it and giant pillar-like islands with trees on top. From our position it didn’t look like an island in the normal sense, there was no beaches, just a collection of huge rocks rising out of the sea covered in vegetation. We were paddled into another lagoon where a man in a small fishing boat was catching crabs. At this point the guides started to mess around. They spoke to the fisherman for a bit and then removed some crabs and horseshoe crabs from his boat and handed them to us. The girls in some of the kayaks screamed when they were handed the crabs, and one of the guides put a horseshoe crab on his head. The girls in one of the kayaks started wrestling with their guide and managed to knock him out of the kayak. They stole the paddle and paddled away, he just stood in the shallow water with his hands in the air laughing.

Our final stop for the day was Lawa Island where we had a few hours to paddle the kayaks on our own, sunbathe, or swim. During the ride to the island we were served a Thai buffet which was very tasty. I’m not sure how they managed to prepare it on the boat, but they did a great job. The boat anchored some distance from the shore and we all jumped into the water. I opted to swim the distance with Mario paddling around me in the kayak. I swam and swam and was ready to give up when I noticed people not too far from me standing up, so I stood up. I didn’t have to walk too far before half of my body was out of the water. I walked to the shore and grabbed the pink kayak we had been riding around in all day and set off.

I paddled around for a bit near Mike and some other kids who had their own kayaks as well. I noticed a dot-sized island some distance off, at least a mile away, and I considered trying to paddle there. As I was considering it another SAS guy, Zach, started paddling towards the island. I followed, not sure whether I would paddle to the same island or some others that were farther still. It took 45 minutes of constant paddling to get to the island and on more than one occasion I was close to giving up and turning back. I spent the time thinking about when I used to go sea-kayaking in Brigantine and wondered what it would be like to live on some of the islands we had paddled around earlier. Some of my favorite books as a child, Robinson Crusoe and The Island of the Blue Dolphin, were about people being stranded on islands. Paddling around these semi-remote islands with no inhabitants brought me back to daydreaming about what I would do if I were stuck on an island (or if I moved there willingly). While it’s fun to think about, it doesn’t sound too pleasant in practice.

Eventually I reached the island I had originally planned to paddle to; Zach had reached it five minutes before me. We walked around looking for coral and just checked things out. The island was basically a mostly barren rock with a group of trees and bushes on the left side. The rocks were very sharp and looked volcanic in origin, walking on them in bare feet was painful. After 15 minutes or so of walking around we decided it was time to get back to the boat. We decided to stack the kayaks and try paddling back in the same kayak because Zach’s was losing air and kept filling up with water. We tried this for 10 minutes until the top kayak slid off and we fell into the water. We spent a few minutes floundering about in the water trying to put the kayaks on top of each other again. The effort of trying to stack the kayaks on one another (while treading water) and then climbing back into my own kayak left my arms so sore I really didn’t think I would be able to paddle back.

Somehow I got back to the boat quicker than it took me to get to the island. As I got closer to the boat I saw Zach leaving his kayak and climbing on board, everyone else had boarded the boat and they were waiting for me. Less than a minute’s paddling time from the boat the wind started blowing heavily and these frighteningly dark clouds moved in over the water. Mario was standing on the back deck of the boat yelling, “Hurry Andy, the storm will blow you away!” As the wind began blowing even harder and the rain started to fall I felt like I was moving backwards. I finally made it to the boat and crawled on boat just as the monsoon rains came in full force. Back on the boat I gratefully accepted a young coconut with the top cut off and a straw in it, I gulped the coconut juice down quickly and wondered how much my arms would hurt later that night.

When we got back to the hotel a few hours later Mike and I asked for a “good Thai restaurant” and made arrangements to have a free shuttle take us there. Five minutes later a shuttle from the restaurant came to pick us up. When we got to the restaurant and saw the menu we realized we were at what was probably one of the fanciest restaurants in Phuket. The people around us were dressed nicely, though it would still generally be classified as ‘casual’ in most of the U.S., but Mike and I were in t-shirts, shorts, and sandals (thankfully we left our stinky jungle-water-logged shoes at the hotel). We sat on a balcony on a cliff that overlooked the beach where waves from the Andaman Sea crashed on the shore. The food was good (I had some green curry Chicken and spring rolls) but it wasn’t quite as good as the previous night when we paid four times less for a better dinner.

After dinner we decided to wander around Patong Beach, specifically Bangla Road which is the notorious red-light district. All we did was wander down the street and get bothered by Thai guys who wanted you to go to their nightclub (it was feeling a lot like Roppongi in Tokyo though not as insane). There were these other Thai guys who hung around on the streets and would stop and introduce themselves and ask if you wanted to go party with them. I had read in a guidebook somewhere that sometimes, though it is uncommon, these guys will take you to a bar where you order some drinks and talk to a woman who approaches you for a bit. When you decide it’s time to leave they present you with something like a $600 bill and claim it was for the woman’s drinks. If you refuse to pay they may beat you and take your wallet. I certainly didn’t want to ‘party’ with a total stranger in a foreign country, especially not with what I’d read in mind.

Mike and I crossed to the other side of the street where it was devoid of shady characters and walked back to the hotel. We ran into Emily and Brittany who were heading the way we had came and they invited us to come with them but Mike declined (he was feeling sick) and after all that paddling I was exhausted. Back at the hotel I watched some T.V. and then went to sleep. This concluded our trip to Phuket. The next day we would fly to Bangkok where, strangely, SAS had decided to put us in a classy hotel that was directly adjacent to Bangkok’s famous red-light district. After the tranquility and beauty of Phuket Bangkok was noisy, crazy, and just plain weird. As I would find out, there is almost nothing in Bangkok for tourists unless you are planning on visiting the royal palace or the red-light district.

After flying from Phuket to Bangkok we checked into our fancy hotel that was one block away from the red-light district. Mike and I went to drop our bags off in our hotel room and we found that the beds were not made and there were dirty towels in the bathroom, not to mention the room smelled strange. With several buses of SAS kids checking into the hotel at once, and only two elevators, waiting for the elevator was torturous. All of this was making me annoyed and it made me wonder why we spent so much money to stay in a nice hotel that seemed to have some problems.

While our room was being cleaned Mike and I went to lunch at a pizzeria attached to the hotel. Everyone else wanted to eat pizza and I, being in Thailand, wanted Thai food. I was starving and I didn’t want to eat alone so I went with Mike, Emily, Brittany and some other girls to eat some pizza. Afterwards we walked around the few streets comprising the red-light district which, in daylight, was deserted. They were setting up tables and tents in the middle of one of the streets that would serve as a night market. After walking around for a bit we all went back to relax for a bit and Mike, Emily, and I got Thai foot massages.

The red light district at night was pretty intense. As we wandered from stall to stall in the night market we were constantly bothered by Thai men standing in front of the night clubs, bars, and strip clubs that lined the street. They offered menus of drinks and a list of prices for “ping pong shows” which involve women, ping pong balls, and private parts (I don’t think any more detail is necessary). Brittany had wanted to see one of these shows, for reasons I can’t fathom, but when I went on the internet earlier in the day to do some research I found out that not only are they disgusting (obviously) but that many of the women are forced to take part and patrons are often scammed into paying a lot of money to leave the clubs. So instead we had to fight off the dozens of Thai men trying to get us to pay to see a ping pong show. They were absolutely shameless too; they had no problem asking the girls in our group if they wanted to see one of the ping pong shows.

We wandered around for a bit trying to find bars without ladyboys, strippers, or prostitutes. Since we were all hungry we decided to find a random Thai restaurant. The restaurant we went to ended up being great. They put giant pieces of paper on the table and let us draw on it with crayons. The waitress kept joking with us throughout dinner. She told us that we would have to pay her one million Baht in order to write on “her table”. When she brought the bill to us with a Buddhist book underneath I was curious and she told me I could keep it as long as I read it. I did read it and it amounts to a Buddhist version of those pamphlets the Jehovah’s Witness people hand out sometimes in the streets and the train stations in Philadelphia.

After dinner we wandered around some more looking for ‘normal’ bars. We walked back to the hotel where Emily asked reception where we could find a bar “with no ping pong shows and no girls”. After getting directions we walked to another street we hadn’t seen before. It didn’t take long to realize that this street was full of gay bars. Well, there certainly wouldn’t be any girls or ping pong shows here. We drank there a bit, feeling out of place but enjoying the peace, and then went to find a place for karaoke. We did find a place but it was empty, and at 2 A.M. it was getting rather late, so we decided to head back to the hotel.

The following day was a bit of a blur. We visited the royal palace which would have been more interesting if I didn’t have to go to the bathroom so bad during the tour. Even worse, the batteries in my camera died so I took very few pictures. By the time we took the bus back to the port at Laem Chaebang it was early evening and only a few hours from the time we had to be back on the ship. Laem Chaebang is apparently an industrial city and the port did not seem to be near anything. Any hopes I had of having one more spicy Thai meal were quickly dashed when I realized this. Instead I went back to my cabin dreading the next 14 days on board the ship before we reached India. I enjoyed our time in Phuket, it gave me a taste of “adventure travel” and made me look forward to visiting national parks in other countries on our itinerary.

Thailand - Days 1 and 2

Thailand was a nice break from historical site-seeing. Michael and I went to Phuket, an island the size of Singapore on Thailand’s southern peninsula. It is a resort island on the Andaman Sea. Most of our first day was spent traveling. Bangkok is not a coastal city; the ship was docked at Laem Chaebang which is about three hours by bus. When we finally arrived at Bangkok’s international airport I was very impressed, it was one of the largest airports I have ever seen and it looked new and shiny (several billion dollars was spent on it by the time construction was finished in 2002). After our long trek to the gate we waited at a stringent security checkpoint where they confiscated my sun-block lotion because it was over 2 ounces (and I finally found a country with air travel regulations that were dumber than the U.S.).

We flew on a 767 full with 120 SAS students and assorted Europeans and Australians. The flight to Phuket took about an hour and during it we were treated to the best airplane food I’ve ever had (on the way back to Bangkok a few days later we were served curry chicken which was also delicious). The ocean near Phuket is dotted with hundreds of islands which made for some great photo opportunities as we descended to land. Once on the ground it was another 45 minutes from the airport to Patong Beach, the resort area where our hotel was located. Patong Beach is located on the other side of a winding mountain road which is considered the most dangerous in Thailand because of the numerous motorbike-related fatalities that occur there each year.

We stayed in Duangjitt Resort which was nice but it was under renovation since it was the low season. On the way to the hotel we were told by our tour guide that we would have to choose which of tomorrow’s activities we wanted to do, either jungle trekking, sea kayaking, or elephant riding. I started getting angry because the itinerary made it clear that everyone would have the opportunity to do all three. It turns out that our tour guide just spoke poor English and what he said was not what he meant. Once there we were informed that we had to find out which color-coded group we were in which would determine the order of the next day’s activities. The tour company, Destination Asia, split our group of 120 students into two subgroups and then further dividing each of those groups into color-coded groups. Mike and I were in the same group but our friends on the same trip were in another group.

After dropping our things off in our hotel room and relaxing for a little bit Mike and I met up with some friends to figure out what we were going to do since we had the evening free. After some confusion and indecisiveness we finally settled on finding a Thai restaurant and then going to see a Muay Thai boxing match. The tour company, Destination Asia, arranged a shuttle that would pick us up and take us to the fight; we even bought tickets through them. Destination Asia had their own table set up in the reception area of the hotel where Semester At Sea could get information, restaurant recommendations, and arrange transportation.

We walked down a nearby road and looked around for restaurants. We found a bed and breakfast nearby with a restaurant that looked promising so we ate there. It was my first taste of authentic Thai food and it was delicious and very spicy. In Thailand at every meal you are given a small tray with dried chili peppers, diced chili peppers in vinegar, and sliced chili peppers in water which you put on your food. At every meal I ate (breakfast included) I would accidentally put too many chili peppers on my food and make it really hot, I loved it though. At this meal I tried Tom Yum for the first time which is Thai lemongrass soup with various weird roots (whole chunks of ginger root and some unidentifiable things).

After dinner we walked to the nearby 7-11 to get drinks. My mouth was on fire from dinner so I bought some green tea. I was constantly reminded of home throughout all of Asia and Southeast Asia by the ubiquitous 7-11 convenience stores. They were in Japan, Hong Kong, Vietnam, and even Thailand. We all walked back to the hotel to wait for the van that was going to take us to the fight. The ride over to the fight was uneventful until we pulled into a seedy alleyway and stopped near a rundown looking building we all began to have our doubts about this boxing match. We handed our tickets to some people who looked like they worked there and they handed each of us a free t-shirt.

We walked into the arena-area and sat down on some bleachers and waited for the fights to start. Since we had arrived an hour early we had ample time to drink Thai beer. Thailand’s national beer, Tiger, is pretty good but of all the new beers I’ve tried I think Angkor beer from Cambodia was the best. The seats slowly filled up, mostly with westerners, and eventually it was time for the fights to begin. At this point we learned that we were in for a treat, a band would be playing live traditional Thai music throughout the fight. This was a tradition that has been around as long as Muay Thai fighting itself. The musicians were on a raised platform in one corner of the small arena (it looked more like a warehouse) and they played almost nonstop for the next 3 hours, I don’t know how they did it.

The first fight finally began at 9 PM and we were shocked to learn that it was between a 13-year-old and 15-year-old. Before each match begins each fighter performs a pre-fight ritual which involves praying, paying their respects to the King of Thailand, and various other exercises. What distinguishes Muay Thai from boxing in the west is that the fighters can kick as well as use elbows and knees which they sometimes do with a devastating effect. Very few people can withstand an elbow to the head. Despite the possibility for brutality the fighters were always very nice to each other. They didn’t “talk trash” or criticize each other, in fact, on a few occasions after knocking an opponent down they would quickly check to make sure they were okay. There were eight fights that night and since I am not a sports writer I can’t possibly capture what they were like. Thankfully Emily brought her video camera with her so the entire thing was recorded. Needless to say, I had a great time and I felt like I got to see an aspect of Thai culture that very few people get the chance to see.

The following day I had to wake up early for the jungle safari. It was a 3 hour drive by bus to Khao Sok National park in Phang Nga province on the mainland of Thailand. Southern Thailand is covered in rubber plantations which made for interesting scenery as we made our way to the park. Once we arrived at the park we met our tour guide, a youngish Thai woman named Siri. It had started raining lightly by the time we picked out our walking sticks and started our trek into the jungle. We had barely begun our trek when we came to the Sok River which had a strong current. In order to get across we would have to go, four at a time, on a bamboo raft that was pulled across the river by a Thai guy who held onto a rope that was tied to trees on the river banks.

Once on the other side we made our way up a steep narrow path. With the tour guide behind us we had no idea where to go. Michael and I heard the sound of falling water nearby and found a small stream where the path ended. Unsure of what to do next we turned around to find a path going up a steep incline. We decided to follow that but after a short time we realized it was the wrong way. We walked back down towards the stream and waited for our guide while swatting mosquitoes that seemed impervious to the ridiculous amounts of insect repellant I had applied to every exposed body part. We stood and waited with others in group and made nervous jokes about getting Dengue Fever.

When Siri and the rest of our group caught up we learned that we were going to walk through the stream. No one told us we would be walking through water, in fact the Destination Asia tour company had recommended that we bring hiking shoes. Undeterred, I tried to hop from fallen branches and half-submerged rocks to avoid getting my feet wet. Eventually I gave up and just hopped into the water (as a result my shoes would be soaked and smelly until we got to Bangkok several days later). One of the girls in our groups broke her flip-flops and Siri graciously gave hers to her and walked barefoot the rest of the way. One guy had the good idea of using leaves and branches from a plant to make shoes which worked okay for a while. Sometime later he realized that he had put his shoes down and forgot to pick them back up again.

Scrambling up and down steep muddy paths I would go to grab hold of trees and plants and then remember Siri telling us that some of the plants are poisonous and if touched caused swelling and pain. The trek took us through more creeks, mud with the consistency of quicksand, and sharp jagged rocks. It was exciting and made more so by the possibility of touching poisonous plants or getting dengue fever from a mosquito (luckily no one in our group was hurt). We joked amongst ourselves about the possibility of getting blood poisoning from cuts and scrapes on feet and then walking through mud and possibly unclean water (to my knowledge no one was seriously injured but a few people had some nasty cuts on their feet from the jagged rocks).

Being in the thick jungle, literally in the middle of nowhere, was really exciting, even though we didn’t see any wildlife. After an hour or so of walking up and down hills through mud and water we walked down a steep path that I recognized as the one Michael and I had accidentally walked up earlier. We got back to Sok River and crossed on the bamboo raft once again. Looking like proper savages we emerged from the jungle covered in sweat and mud, glad to be back and ready for lunch. We were all treated to a Thai buffet in which I yet again put too many chili peppers on my food.

After lunch it was our turn to ride elephants. In Thailand elephants are considered sacred, they are commanded by mahouts, people originally from Tibet, who are well-respected for their ability to train and control elephants. The mahout sits in the front of the elephant towards the head where he can gently nudge the elephant’s ears with his feet to coax it into going left or right. In the event that the elephant is feeling rebellious or has caught sight of a particularly tasty plant the mahout has a hook which he uses to hook the elephant behind the ear (we were assured that to an elephant the hook would feel like a tickle).

Michael and I sat together on a seat with a safety bar on top of the elephant. The gentle swaying of the elephant as it made its way through the jungle was a nice way to relax after our jungle trek and a Thai buffet. As the mahout guided our elephant through the muddy jungle paths the mud squelched underneath the elephant’s feet. After following paths for 45 minutes or so we came into a clearing full of tall grasses, various plants, and a scattering of flowers. All around us the sides of the mountains towered above us, everything up to and including their jagged peaks were covered in trees.

While we were in the clearing, the other mahouts stopped their elephants and gave the riders the opportunity to take some pictures, but ours did not. Instead, he let our elephant walk into, and through, trees while it ripped up vegetation with its trunk and stuffed it in its mouth. Eventually we left the clearing and resumed our journey through the jungle, this time following a path that seemed to lead back to where we had started.

After leaving the elephants we rode to the Sok River where we got into canoes and went downriver. Michael and I didn’t even have to paddle since we, like everyone else in our group, were supplied with guides to paddle for us. It had started raining and we never really saw anything particularly interesting, though the guides did point out some snakes in trees and a monkey up high on a cliff that overlooked the river. After our relaxing trip down the river we got back on the buses for the 3 hour ride back to the resort at Patong Beach.

We got back to the hotel in the late evening and decided to go out on our own to buy some sandals and find a good Thai restaurant. For some reason we decided that we didn’t need anything to protect us from the rain, despite the fact that it had been raining heavily off and on all evening. It started raining as we walked down a street near the hotel looking for someone who sold sandals so we wouldn’t have to wear our shoes that had been soaked by the jungle trek. We found some sandals but were left stranded underneath the corrugated metal roof of a store because the rain had turned into a downpour.

As we waited for the rain to stop we watched the Thai transvestites (known affectionately as “ladyboys” in Thailand) across the street trying to convince passing men to pay for their services. After 15 minutes of waiting the rain had not yet abated. A Thai guy in his 20’s who had been standing near us introduced himself and asked us where we were from. After a brief discussion we learned that he was the owner of the clothing store we were standing in front of. He told us that he had plastic ponchos in the store but that he had just closed it and could not open it again. After consulting with his grandmother who was nearby selling beverages he offered to sell us their ponchos. We couldn’t possibly accept that so we politely said no. He then asked his grandmother if he could go back into the store to get some ponchos to sell to us, which he did once she consented.

Since we were looking for a Thai restaurant we decided to ask him if he knew of any. He immediately put on his plastic poncho, said something to his grandmother in Thai, and then told us to follow him. We walked not too far down the street to a restaurant that he said was very good. He was an extremely helpful stranger and he was right about the restaurant, the food was delicious. It was probably the spiciest meal I have ever eaten. After dinner I walked back to the hotel and went to sleep looking forward to sea-kayaking the next day.