To Thai For, Part 2
Over the river and through the woods, we arrived in Ko Lanta a few days ago. Actually, it was more like over the land (on a short flight), over the sea (via two ferries) and through the jungle. Either way, I am now a million miles away from the grimy hustle and bustle of Bangkok. I know this the moment I step foot onto our resort, which is aptly named "Relax Bay". But not in a Hilton-ish or Disney-ish way, mind you. No fabricated relaxing is taking place here. This is relaxing the way it was meant to be. Total nature. Bungalows on the beach, thatch roofs everywhere. Lush greenery all around. The sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore. Our group is greeted with fresh coconuts and enthusiastic smiles from the Thai staff.
Relax Bay, indeed.
The past couple of days have demonstrated just how prophetic the name of this place really is. Long walks on sparsely populated beaches. Swimming in the clear waters of the Andaman Sea. Riding elephants. Sipping strawberry margaritas during happy hour. Life on Ko Lanta seems to happen at a glacial pace, except for the fact that the days are flying by way too fast. I have been eating fresh fruit daily, and incredibly fresh and scrumptious thai food for every meal. I can feel my body cleansing, rejuvenating, and yes...relaxing.
And so, on the third day, we are scheduled for a boat trip. We will tour 4 islands in the Andaman Sea. Beyond that, I don't know what else to expect. This has been the rule during the entire trip so far: just go with it. No expectations. Sabai, sabai as they say in these parts. No worries. It's all good.
Oh, and it's my birthday. Somebody planned this perfectly.
So here we are, on this boat, heading out to who-knows-where. It is a masterpiece of a day. Blue skies overhead, with some scattered whisps of white thrown in for artistic merit. The waters are emerald green and clear as can be. We pass island after island. Eventually, I see a small beach about 200 yards from our little blue boat, which is ready to anchor. This is where we are going to start the adventure! I look down, see the clear green waters and know the warm, salty pleasure that awaits. As I jump off the boat into the liquid happiness below, I can't help but think that I am leaping into more than just the sea. I am taking the plunge into the next year of my life. Joyfully, wonderfully taking the leap.
Splooosh.
Welcome to 38, Paul.
And so the afternoon goes. The waters are like a giant emerald green bathtub. I can see the bottom so easily even without goggles. I swim endlessly, smiling so much (and so widely) that my face begins to hurt after a few minutes. We visit a couple of different islands, and have thai lunch prepared for us on one of them (vegetable green curry, totally delicious). Occasionally I take a look around and am pleasantly stunned by all that I see. All I can do is laugh. How did I get here? I cannot imagine how the day could get any better.
We continue out to our last stop. Melina, the mastermind behind this entire spectacle, tells us that we are headed to Emerald Cave. She explains that we will be swimming through this cave along with countless other tourists, most of which are Thai children. Many school kids from Bangkok come there to get in touch with the wondrous natural beauty that exists in their native land (they certainly don't see it in the city). It will be dark and loud in the cave, given that these youngsters will have a tendency to scream and holler as most youngsters do when they are happy. The instructions are simple: Just follow the flashlight of our boat operator, don't panic and keep swimming.
Off the boat we go. One by one, we enter the cave. The light at the beginning of this tunnel reveals walls that look like stalagmites, or stalactites, or whatever they are called. It looks like there are icicles hanging from above. It is getting darker and darker as we go. And louder. Melina was right, these kids are really excited. And so am I. At one point we are swimming through pitch blackness, with only a faint white flashlight as our guide. We turn a corner, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (literally). It turns out to be a longer swim than I thought, and suddenly I am stepping out onto a small patch of beach along with scores of others.
As I orientate to this place, I realize I have never seen anything like it. We have basically swam into Utopia. The greenest greens you have ever laid eyes on are surrounding me on all sides. This place is magical, I think to myself. People from different parts of the world are all exasperated with joy. I scan through the crowd. Directly in front of me is a group of Thai schoolkids, taking a class picture. Several people from my American group decide to invade the photo, which brings squeals of delight from the children. Giant smiles are everywhere, including my own face. I am hearing languages all around that I have (and have not) heard before. It turns out that Utopia, in this moment, is a place where people from all over the world are co-existing in complete joy and wonder. Nothing else matters in this moment except for this moment. And we are all sharing it, together. I feel a union with the world that I have never, ever felt before. Connected, totally connected. All boundaries have disappeared. I sense that there is no separation between any of us. The world, my world, just got even smaller. My heart is exploding open like a rose in bloom. I somehow find my hands in the prayer position, and start giving thanks for all that I am experiencing.
Here come the tears. Turns out, Utopia has opened the flood gates of my eyes and heart.
On the way back to the resort, I contemplate what has transpired on this day. I have magically, happily, lovingly taken the leap into another year. I am tired but still smiling, inside and out. Everyone asks if this was my best birthday ever. Oh yeah, I forgot that it was my birthday. And really, did they even have to ask?
Forget birthdays. This day was so far beyond that.
Wow.
Somebody really planned this perfectly.
Relax Bay, indeed.
The past couple of days have demonstrated just how prophetic the name of this place really is. Long walks on sparsely populated beaches. Swimming in the clear waters of the Andaman Sea. Riding elephants. Sipping strawberry margaritas during happy hour. Life on Ko Lanta seems to happen at a glacial pace, except for the fact that the days are flying by way too fast. I have been eating fresh fruit daily, and incredibly fresh and scrumptious thai food for every meal. I can feel my body cleansing, rejuvenating, and yes...relaxing.
And so, on the third day, we are scheduled for a boat trip. We will tour 4 islands in the Andaman Sea. Beyond that, I don't know what else to expect. This has been the rule during the entire trip so far: just go with it. No expectations. Sabai, sabai as they say in these parts. No worries. It's all good.
Oh, and it's my birthday. Somebody planned this perfectly.
So here we are, on this boat, heading out to who-knows-where. It is a masterpiece of a day. Blue skies overhead, with some scattered whisps of white thrown in for artistic merit. The waters are emerald green and clear as can be. We pass island after island. Eventually, I see a small beach about 200 yards from our little blue boat, which is ready to anchor. This is where we are going to start the adventure! I look down, see the clear green waters and know the warm, salty pleasure that awaits. As I jump off the boat into the liquid happiness below, I can't help but think that I am leaping into more than just the sea. I am taking the plunge into the next year of my life. Joyfully, wonderfully taking the leap.
Splooosh.
Welcome to 38, Paul.
And so the afternoon goes. The waters are like a giant emerald green bathtub. I can see the bottom so easily even without goggles. I swim endlessly, smiling so much (and so widely) that my face begins to hurt after a few minutes. We visit a couple of different islands, and have thai lunch prepared for us on one of them (vegetable green curry, totally delicious). Occasionally I take a look around and am pleasantly stunned by all that I see. All I can do is laugh. How did I get here? I cannot imagine how the day could get any better.
We continue out to our last stop. Melina, the mastermind behind this entire spectacle, tells us that we are headed to Emerald Cave. She explains that we will be swimming through this cave along with countless other tourists, most of which are Thai children. Many school kids from Bangkok come there to get in touch with the wondrous natural beauty that exists in their native land (they certainly don't see it in the city). It will be dark and loud in the cave, given that these youngsters will have a tendency to scream and holler as most youngsters do when they are happy. The instructions are simple: Just follow the flashlight of our boat operator, don't panic and keep swimming.
Off the boat we go. One by one, we enter the cave. The light at the beginning of this tunnel reveals walls that look like stalagmites, or stalactites, or whatever they are called. It looks like there are icicles hanging from above. It is getting darker and darker as we go. And louder. Melina was right, these kids are really excited. And so am I. At one point we are swimming through pitch blackness, with only a faint white flashlight as our guide. We turn a corner, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (literally). It turns out to be a longer swim than I thought, and suddenly I am stepping out onto a small patch of beach along with scores of others.
As I orientate to this place, I realize I have never seen anything like it. We have basically swam into Utopia. The greenest greens you have ever laid eyes on are surrounding me on all sides. This place is magical, I think to myself. People from different parts of the world are all exasperated with joy. I scan through the crowd. Directly in front of me is a group of Thai schoolkids, taking a class picture. Several people from my American group decide to invade the photo, which brings squeals of delight from the children. Giant smiles are everywhere, including my own face. I am hearing languages all around that I have (and have not) heard before. It turns out that Utopia, in this moment, is a place where people from all over the world are co-existing in complete joy and wonder. Nothing else matters in this moment except for this moment. And we are all sharing it, together. I feel a union with the world that I have never, ever felt before. Connected, totally connected. All boundaries have disappeared. I sense that there is no separation between any of us. The world, my world, just got even smaller. My heart is exploding open like a rose in bloom. I somehow find my hands in the prayer position, and start giving thanks for all that I am experiencing.
Here come the tears. Turns out, Utopia has opened the flood gates of my eyes and heart.
On the way back to the resort, I contemplate what has transpired on this day. I have magically, happily, lovingly taken the leap into another year. I am tired but still smiling, inside and out. Everyone asks if this was my best birthday ever. Oh yeah, I forgot that it was my birthday. And really, did they even have to ask?
Forget birthdays. This day was so far beyond that.
Wow.
Somebody really planned this perfectly.
Comments