Have moved out of my mosquito-infested room to a superb double air conditioned place with hot water, no ants, mossies etc for 700 baht. The air conditioning is silent as well. It really is so worth paying the extra.
My room is, coincidentally, above Anne’s shop, Cheap Charlies. It could be interesting. My ticket to Bangkok cost 1,800 baht.
Oh my God! What an afternoon! Went to Phi Phi Lee - an amazing, awe-inspiring, terrifying experience.
Phi Phi Lee is an island almost completely surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs that tower some 500 feet straight up from the ocean. It is an immense fortified castle built by nature.
To enter, we had to anchor the boat and then swim through heavy seas to a small cave that led through to the inside of the "castle" walls. It was a trip so dangerous, so crazy but we all made it through unhurt except for a couple of grazes.
I was the last to go, not sure how foolhardy it would be. But at last I swam towards the cave, accompanied by a big school of tiger fish and a couple of bright turquoise fish over two feet long. I trod water for a bit at the entrance and then warily entered.
The cave was no more than 20 feet deep. I went through to the other side - and found myself in a dream world.
It was strangely hushed, the cliffs towered just as sheer on the inside as they did on the outside and blocked out the roar of the ocean. Green leafy trees grew up straight and tall with no wind to bend them. The atmosphere was magical, ancient and I was alone. It seemed impossible that this was a real place in the waking world. It was timeless, surreal. This is what the great forests that once covered England must have felt like. Butterflies fluttered by but no birds sang. Despite the countless people that must have come through here in recent years, the place had a forgotten feel to it. This was a lost world.
A white sandy path stretched ahead of me through the dim greenness of the forest and, dazedly, I followed it. There were footprints on the sand of people that had gone before but as everyone from the boat had swum barefoot here the prints were of unshod savages. Time still had not touched this island.
Soon, two paths diverged in a green leafy wood and I took the path more trodden by. On it led. Now, faintly, I heard the roar of the ocean.
Ahead, a magnolia type of tree bent over to from a natural arch. Through it I could see white sand and turquoise sea.
I had arrived at a secret bay, accessible to the ocean by a narrow gateway in the towering limestone cliffs. Through this strait, a small boat may only pass when the sea is flat calm. Weird stalagmites hung down from the overhanging cliffs. An old tree trunk, fashioned into fantastic shapes by the sea, lay half buried in the sand. The wood was bleached white by the fierce tropical sun. The rest of the boat party stood snapping pictures or playing in the waves near the shore.
I took pictures on my camera and also for a girl who had sent her camera ashore in the waterproof rucksack but had been too terrified to pass through the cave.
All too soon it was time to leave. This is a recurring theme on Koh Phi Phi. Time passes too swiftly.
Back to the cave we went. But now danger awaited us. During the hour we’d been on the secret island, the tide had risen considerably. This meant that the tunnel through the gateway cave was now half underwater. To make matters worse, the wind had picked up and the sky was growing fierce. Big powerful waves were crashing over the small cave mouth outside causing water to explode with dangerous force out from the tunnel.
One by one, people went through, clinging onto the rope as they went down the drop into the tunnel, stumbling on the rocky bottom while waves tried to dash them against the dark walls of the cave. It was a very slow process as the sea was now too fierce to swim to the boat and the boatmen were having to pick people up one by one on the kayak.
Darkness fell. It started to rain. Large mosquito Orcs, sensing impending doom, swooped down and began to feast upon the defenceless half-naked bodies. Most people were too scared at the sight of the fearsome tunnel that they knew they would soon have to pass through to even notice the diabolical creatures. And the Orcs chuckled evilly to each other.
“Woooooh! Farung blood! So sweet! Waaaaaahey!”
It grew more and more dangerous as time passed. One girl was almost paralysed with fear. All around me, people were trying to talk themselves into facing the awful journey.
“Cmon, cmon…we can do this! We’re not gonna die…it can’t be that bad…”
A big muscular German man with close cropped blond hair and sporting a black eye took command.
“Everybody is forming an orderly queue,” he told us sternly. “Women and weak swimmers at the front.”
People moved gladly to obey. The big German seated himself just above the mouth of the tunnel, seemingly unfazed by the violent explosions of water that regularly issued forth and tried to knock him off his perch.
“I was a year in the army,” he told me, as he watched the water being sucked back into the tunnel with a calculating eye. “It was compulsory in my country. EVERYBODY should be made to do National Service – it prepares people for situations like this. There is a danger and somebody needs to look after everybody. You have to watch the situation and see how it is. It is common sense.
“Go down the drop backwards and hold onto the rope,” he told a shaking woman. “It is like abseiling. You have seen how other people have slipped. You can avoid this.”
On by one, people passed into the menacing tunnel. The sea was growing fiercer as the wind picked up. Surging waters tugged fiercely at them as they stumbled blindly on the rocky bottom. One girl was thrown against the rocks and bashed her head. She went limp and was washed out to the man on the kayak outside. Her friend thought she was dead but we later found out that she was simply groggy. It grew steadily darker.
Now there were only three of us left and the water was up to the roof of the cave. The big German surveyed the scene calmly.
“That man is very nervous. I think he should go next,” he told me. “I myself will go last.”
The man disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Now it was my turn. I stood by the mouth of the tunnel and waited. A big wave sent a surge of water rushing through. I staggered and clung to the rocks as the swirling torrent tried to knock my feet out from under me. The waters receded with a greedy slurping noise.
“Now!” ordered the German. “Quickly!”
I grabbed the robe and jumped down the drop. I landed awkwardly on the uneven rocky bottom. I moved forward and a big wave came thundering through. I held my breath and hung onto the rope. I was underwater and could see nothing. The water sucked out again. The man on the kayak was waiting anxiously outside the cave, back-paddling against the heavy swell.
“Swim!” he called. “Swim to me!”
Another big wave came out of nowhere and threw me viciously against the cliff. I tucked my head down and absorbed the impact with my padded life vest. I was underwater again in a crazy spinning world of form. My bare feet grated brutally against the sharp rocks as I tried to fend off the worst of it. I clung onto the rope and waited.
I surfaced. The kayak was only yards away. I swam with all my might to it. The lights of the big boat were glimmering through the darkness some 200 yards away. I reached the kayak, pulled myself aboard and lay there exhausted. I had made it!
Oh yeah, snorkelling was great as well. Big shoals of tiger fish, a swordfish (well, it looked like one!), lots of weird and wonderful cartoon fish, a bright turquoise creature nearly 3 feet long with no tail…
My room is, coincidentally, above Anne’s shop, Cheap Charlies. It could be interesting. My ticket to Bangkok cost 1,800 baht.
Oh my God! What an afternoon! Went to Phi Phi Lee - an amazing, awe-inspiring, terrifying experience.
Phi Phi Lee is an island almost completely surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs that tower some 500 feet straight up from the ocean. It is an immense fortified castle built by nature.
To enter, we had to anchor the boat and then swim through heavy seas to a small cave that led through to the inside of the "castle" walls. It was a trip so dangerous, so crazy but we all made it through unhurt except for a couple of grazes.
I was the last to go, not sure how foolhardy it would be. But at last I swam towards the cave, accompanied by a big school of tiger fish and a couple of bright turquoise fish over two feet long. I trod water for a bit at the entrance and then warily entered.
The cave was no more than 20 feet deep. I went through to the other side - and found myself in a dream world.
It was strangely hushed, the cliffs towered just as sheer on the inside as they did on the outside and blocked out the roar of the ocean. Green leafy trees grew up straight and tall with no wind to bend them. The atmosphere was magical, ancient and I was alone. It seemed impossible that this was a real place in the waking world. It was timeless, surreal. This is what the great forests that once covered England must have felt like. Butterflies fluttered by but no birds sang. Despite the countless people that must have come through here in recent years, the place had a forgotten feel to it. This was a lost world.
A white sandy path stretched ahead of me through the dim greenness of the forest and, dazedly, I followed it. There were footprints on the sand of people that had gone before but as everyone from the boat had swum barefoot here the prints were of unshod savages. Time still had not touched this island.
Soon, two paths diverged in a green leafy wood and I took the path more trodden by. On it led. Now, faintly, I heard the roar of the ocean.
Ahead, a magnolia type of tree bent over to from a natural arch. Through it I could see white sand and turquoise sea.
I had arrived at a secret bay, accessible to the ocean by a narrow gateway in the towering limestone cliffs. Through this strait, a small boat may only pass when the sea is flat calm. Weird stalagmites hung down from the overhanging cliffs. An old tree trunk, fashioned into fantastic shapes by the sea, lay half buried in the sand. The wood was bleached white by the fierce tropical sun. The rest of the boat party stood snapping pictures or playing in the waves near the shore.
I took pictures on my camera and also for a girl who had sent her camera ashore in the waterproof rucksack but had been too terrified to pass through the cave.
All too soon it was time to leave. This is a recurring theme on Koh Phi Phi. Time passes too swiftly.
Back to the cave we went. But now danger awaited us. During the hour we’d been on the secret island, the tide had risen considerably. This meant that the tunnel through the gateway cave was now half underwater. To make matters worse, the wind had picked up and the sky was growing fierce. Big powerful waves were crashing over the small cave mouth outside causing water to explode with dangerous force out from the tunnel.
One by one, people went through, clinging onto the rope as they went down the drop into the tunnel, stumbling on the rocky bottom while waves tried to dash them against the dark walls of the cave. It was a very slow process as the sea was now too fierce to swim to the boat and the boatmen were having to pick people up one by one on the kayak.
Darkness fell. It started to rain. Large mosquito Orcs, sensing impending doom, swooped down and began to feast upon the defenceless half-naked bodies. Most people were too scared at the sight of the fearsome tunnel that they knew they would soon have to pass through to even notice the diabolical creatures. And the Orcs chuckled evilly to each other.
“Woooooh! Farung blood! So sweet! Waaaaaahey!”
It grew more and more dangerous as time passed. One girl was almost paralysed with fear. All around me, people were trying to talk themselves into facing the awful journey.
“Cmon, cmon…we can do this! We’re not gonna die…it can’t be that bad…”
A big muscular German man with close cropped blond hair and sporting a black eye took command.
“Everybody is forming an orderly queue,” he told us sternly. “Women and weak swimmers at the front.”
People moved gladly to obey. The big German seated himself just above the mouth of the tunnel, seemingly unfazed by the violent explosions of water that regularly issued forth and tried to knock him off his perch.
“I was a year in the army,” he told me, as he watched the water being sucked back into the tunnel with a calculating eye. “It was compulsory in my country. EVERYBODY should be made to do National Service – it prepares people for situations like this. There is a danger and somebody needs to look after everybody. You have to watch the situation and see how it is. It is common sense.
“Go down the drop backwards and hold onto the rope,” he told a shaking woman. “It is like abseiling. You have seen how other people have slipped. You can avoid this.”
On by one, people passed into the menacing tunnel. The sea was growing fiercer as the wind picked up. Surging waters tugged fiercely at them as they stumbled blindly on the rocky bottom. One girl was thrown against the rocks and bashed her head. She went limp and was washed out to the man on the kayak outside. Her friend thought she was dead but we later found out that she was simply groggy. It grew steadily darker.
Now there were only three of us left and the water was up to the roof of the cave. The big German surveyed the scene calmly.
“That man is very nervous. I think he should go next,” he told me. “I myself will go last.”
The man disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Now it was my turn. I stood by the mouth of the tunnel and waited. A big wave sent a surge of water rushing through. I staggered and clung to the rocks as the swirling torrent tried to knock my feet out from under me. The waters receded with a greedy slurping noise.
“Now!” ordered the German. “Quickly!”
I grabbed the robe and jumped down the drop. I landed awkwardly on the uneven rocky bottom. I moved forward and a big wave came thundering through. I held my breath and hung onto the rope. I was underwater and could see nothing. The water sucked out again. The man on the kayak was waiting anxiously outside the cave, back-paddling against the heavy swell.
“Swim!” he called. “Swim to me!”
Another big wave came out of nowhere and threw me viciously against the cliff. I tucked my head down and absorbed the impact with my padded life vest. I was underwater again in a crazy spinning world of form. My bare feet grated brutally against the sharp rocks as I tried to fend off the worst of it. I clung onto the rope and waited.
I surfaced. The kayak was only yards away. I swam with all my might to it. The lights of the big boat were glimmering through the darkness some 200 yards away. I reached the kayak, pulled myself aboard and lay there exhausted. I had made it!
Oh yeah, snorkelling was great as well. Big shoals of tiger fish, a swordfish (well, it looked like one!), lots of weird and wonderful cartoon fish, a bright turquoise creature nearly 3 feet long with no tail…
No comments:
Post a Comment