What do you do when you’ve enjoyed 2 of the 3 things a region is famous for? Go for the third right?  So we set out to complete the trifector with Daniel and Nina, our comrades from Finland.

Large limestone cliffs and pillars, or “karst”, are common throughout mainland SE Asia, but in Krabi they are particularly dramatic.  Sea kayaking is one of the best ways to enjoy the karst, where caves and other eccentric formations are common as the sea meets the soft stone.

Our trip started with a 45 minute drive to Ao Thalane, where we got a quick briefing and got our “kayaks”.  From there we paddled into the thick tangle of mangrove forests, where the trees use their roots like stilts, climbing directly out of the salt water.  We planted a few new mangrove shoots ourselves, giving the mangrove a little help rebuilding since the Tsunami.

At times it seemed that we had become irreversibly trapped, but the cacophany of roots, like a mischievious group of mirrors, was only playing tricks on us.  There always seem to be a channel just wide enough to fit a kayak through.   We drifted slowly through the maze, only the sound of our paddles interrupting the rythym of the cicadas.

Next we entered a deep canyon; the steep limestone walls adorned with vines and dense green foliage.  It would have been no surprise to see a teradactyl swoop by.  Brightly colored tropical birds skimmed the water and the splash of large fish occasionally startled us.  Monkeys played on the river banks, squeeking and hissing as they flipped from branch to branch.  It was as if, for just a few hours, we were allowed to enter a different world.

Back on the mainland we splashed in a clear blue swimming hole, formed by a limestone sinkhole hundreds of feet deep.  Elephants passed by and fish nibbled at our feet.  The precarious rope swing, defying all engineering principles, stayed intact as we launched ourselves in.  The truck dropped us back off at are starting point before we’d even dried off, leaving us happy but itching for more.

Sadly Daniel and Nina had to leave the next day, so we sent them properly with a feast followed by a spectacular sunset and small fire on the beach.  Val and I showed of our impressive Muay Thai skills sending a clear message to passers by that this was a private party, only good friends allowed

The next day we relocating to Tonsai beach where we again rented a kayak and paddled into the sunset.  Passing impressive formations, rickety long tail boats, and rock climbers clinging, impossibly, to the cliff faces.  We met an English chap by the name of Tom.  He happened to need a climbing partner, “how about two?” we asked, “the more the merrier” – perfect.

For another two days we defied gravity.  As I shook the rust of my rock skills Val cast her fears aside and danced her way up routes she would have never considered just days before.  Tom, having been there a while, took us to all the best spots where we left a little of our sweat and blood, a small trade for some of the best climbing in the world.

Our visit culminated in the January full moon.  What better excuse to party?  An impromptu group formed and we set off to conquer Tonsai beach.  Over dinner we laughed heartily at a rendition of “Tom & the Tarantula” (worthy of it’s own post).  Buckets of drinks, pulsing rythyms, heartfelt conversations, and a well timed Gloria Estefan song later we stumbled back to our trusty bungalow, reveling in the glory of goals accomplished.

Will we return someday?  Perhaps a better question is:  How long can we stay away?

After a surprisingly fun night in Satun drinking Thai Whiskey with a local family, we hopped a boat (a large modern speedboat!) headed for the nearby islands of Ko Turatao National Marine park.

The ride took us past dramatic limestone and granite bluffs rising defiantly from the ocean.  The park comprises over 50 densely forested islands.  White sand beaches meet clear turquoise water and fringing coral reefs.  In short it’s paradise.  Sadly though, corruption and development threaten these islands and the waters surrounding them.  Thailand sees over 13 million visitors a year, and the pressure is beginning to leak into this last bastion of island solitude.  For our part, we avoided all private development (which is illegal, but money talks) and spent our dollars directly with the National Park system who’s rangers and personnel are earnestly fighting to keep their park wild.

We found our own quiet island and stayed in a National Park long house.  No bars, no crowds, no drama – just one restaurant and 100 yards of beach between you and your nearest sun bathing neighbor, we wondered if we’d ever be able to leave.

Right away we met four great characters.  Ian, an English carpenter who trots the globe and does volunteer disaster relief when not recharging his wallet in the UK.  Conrad a dashing 20 year old German with an infectious smile.  Luisa, a Russian who’s thin frame betrayed her female-solo-traveller hardiness.  And finally “Two”, a quiet Malaysian high rise building estimator.  We naturally became friends within just hours of landing.  We cemented our fraternity by hiking to the top of a thousand food cliff to watch the sun fade over Indian Ocean, getting to know each other along the way.

The next day we went on a Snorkeling trip to nearby reefs and points of interest.  We were joined by two Polish trouble makers who rounded out the group perfectly.  We joked with hoisting our own flag and plundering the other long tail boats for booty an eternal glory, but the reefs were too gorgeous too ignore and our fellow boaters escaped harm. Each beach had it’s own unique charm, especially one with a custom built Valerie Orosco Obstacle Course – watch for this new event at the next summer games.  7 hours later we returned to our beach and enjoyed Polish Vodka well into the night.

Nursing terrible sunburns, the next two days were mellow.  We watched Hornbills (SE Asia’s answer to the Toucan), lizards, hermit crabs, monkeys, and other abundant wildlife from the shade of Casuarina trees.  A definite highlight was “baking” Conrad his 21st birthday cake, which amounted to a neatly arranged pile of Oreo cookies with an oversized candle in the middle.  We celebrated with a hilariously pathetic game of beach volleyball, and “Rice Feast 2010″ which saw six of us eat an entire bucket of fried rice and another bucket of spicy lemongrass soup.  YUM!

Sadly our friends left one by one day by day.  Leaving Val and I essentially alone to absorb the rays.   In the following days we saw tree vipers, bats, a gathering of over 300 hermit crabs, waterfalls, and sunsets that brought tears to our eyes.  We found that the best Snorkelling for miles was in our own back yard and we free dived the reefs for hours a day, seeing all the usual suspects and more giant clams than you can imagine.

Eventually, as are friends before us, we too had to leave after 9 wonderful days.  I can speak for both of us when I say I hope it’s not our last visit and that change can wait a little longer before settling down on this perfect oasis.

Indonesia and Malaysia share a common language, which happens to be one of the easiest in the world to learn.  After 4 months of real world practice we had gotten pretty good and were beginning to feel like we’d pierced the clueless tourist veil.  Then came Thailand…

From the Cameron Highlands, Malaysia we took an “adventurous” overland route into Thailand.  Instead of taking the expensive and easy 10 hour all-included transport we opted for the cheap, local’s route.  It took a mere 5 busses, a taxi, and two days to get to the border which is where the fun really began.

We crossed into Thailand on a “long tail” boat, so called for their extended propeller shafts that hang comically far off the back of the boat.  When long tails are functioning properly they are loud, unstable, and require an inordinate amount of energy to operate.  This particular ride didn’t take place in a properly functioning long tail boat.  We boarded the boat which was pretty much already full (4 Thai men and two coolers of fish), but we found enough room for our butts and backpacks and settled in for a sweaty ride.  The men happily fed us lychees, a fair trade for us providing the in-flight entertainment.  We exhausted our 3 word vocabulary in about 30 seconds but were saved from smiling at each other in silence by a strange sound.

A fishing boat, leaning to one side about 30 degrees, was scraping along the bottom.  Having run aground about 25 feet short the dock the fishermen were desperately throwing nets of fish and cargo overboard trying to unweight the wounded side of the vessel before it tipped completely.  On shore 3 men seemed to be trying to pray an ancient pump to life.  No dice. The  full blown expletive symphony that then ensued was pure SE Asian comedy, no matter what language you speak.

Then our engine started, violently shaking the creaky boat and eliminating all other sound.  The Thai men fully enclosed us under tarps, leaving Val and I to wonder if this is a sun protection strategy or part of the vessel’s flotation scheme.  Perhaps we laughed to soon…

As it turns out the boat only had to be bailed once before we arrive 15 minutes later in Thailand.  Laughing resumes.

Thailand is populated almost entirely by practicing Theravada Buddhists,  but Satun, where we landed, is one of the few pockets of Islam, which eased our transition a bit as the etiquette is familiar.    The language, however, is impossible.  Not only does it utilize tones, which drastically alter the meaning of a word, but Thai has its own writing system.  Here we go again, right back into the exotic, now if I could just find where I put that clueless tourist hat…