Staying on the Kwia

During our first trip we were to be staying on a house boat on the river Kwia itself. We got there via a Toyota pick-up truck "taxi", which we shared with other Farangs also on the trip, all of us sitting on two benches facing inwards with our rucksacks between our knees or strapped to the home-made roof. I could see why we swapped our air-con minibuses for the Toyota workhorses when we set off down the unpaved road which bumped its way to the river bank where the house boat was moored.
Once there, sweating and lethargic in the afternoon heat, it was a short walk down the bank and onto the houseboat, which already had freshly cooked rice, Thai green curry and a stir-fry waiting for us on the tables in the eating area.

"Oh God, now, no this is too much, I cant do this!" A shrill mid-Atlantic voice complains as soon as we disembark the Toyota. The owner of the nasally complaint is a stout woman who I figure is pissed off she has to walk down the stairs to the boat with her suitcase (not the most practical piece of luggage for touring Thailand). Everyone else has grabbed their luggage and bee-lined for the hot food, so I step forward to help.

"I am NOT carrying that down there, this is just too much!" She continues gesturing to the luggage and the slight thai girl who is our guide. The thai girl, who I figure is so small, she could actually climb into the suitcase and fit quite comfortably,with a friend, grabs the handle at the stout women's gesturing, and starts attempting to take it down the riverbank stairs. Satisfied, the stout woman wobbles past her empty-handed and down to the waiting food. I adjust my bags and help the Thai girl carry the suitcase, before it drags her down the bank and into the water. When we get the suitcase onto the boat, the thai girl gave me a knowing smile and says "Yeah, you English".

The boat was lovely, a flat raft with a covered communal eating area one end, and the other a line of simple rooms with attached bathrooms, opening out onto decking with table and chairs arranged for sitting and looking out onto the water, which flowed with surprising speed.

That night, after a great home-made thai meal, we sat on the decking and watched the river flow by , sipping Mekong whisky and talking about Europe to the bigoted, borderline racist and over-opinionated stout woman who was incapable of carrying her own bag before. I found it crazy she was so anti-immigration and so extremely opinionated on matters relating to England (and the royal family?!), considering she hadn't lived in England since 1968, when she moved to Canada.
Poor Canada.
Lucky us.

The next morning we were up early and before breakfast were taken to where the elephants were being bathed.
Former working elephants, now retired, their continued employment relies on farangs like us visiting them for rides and the chance to fool around in the water with them.

Now I wasn't sure on this, having studied at length the wild elephants of Kenya, gaining a huge amount of respect, care and healthy amount of fear for these enormous, amazing, intelligent creatures. However, these were domestic elephants, a far cry from the wild African elephant. Still didn't stop me worrying when I climbed onto it's back to set off into the river Kwia for bath-time.
However, the elephant seemed happy enough, it's mahout laughing and joking as the elephant happily tips us into the water again and again. It was strange, to be this close to the elephant, to feel its thick, wire-haired skin, to touch its tusks, and to swim around it, this huge, amazing creature. I noticed Becci was in the water almost constantly, seemingly unable to stay on as the elephant tips its huge bulk sideways into the water. I was faring a little better, which I was glad of- I felt very uncomfortable climbing all over such a magnificent creature, like it was disrespectful. However, this is Thailand, not Africa, and like in India, elephants have been domesticated for quite some time.

After "washing" the elephants, and then ourselves (I was acutely aware the water I was swimming in was the same the house-boats toilet empties into), we had breakfast, and set about our other trips. Over the couple of days these included "elephant trekking" which I found boring and didn't like the mahouts "pick-axe", and a visit to a waterfall.

The waterfall wasn't spectacular, however we walked a few K's further up and found some caves. For 50 Baht, the park-wardens took Mrs Grasshopper and I, plus an Ozzy couple who had a similar idea, deep into the depths of the caves. Becci opted out, not liking the tight fit through the entrance, but she met us outside some time later, when we emerged scratched, hot and soaked through with sweat. I had thought the caves would be cool, but in actual fact they were like an oven, and the oil-lamp the warden used didn't help matters. Pitch-dark, hot and with incredible narrow crevices to scramble through, it was an unusual but very enjoyable experience.

The ice-cold water I bought at the waterfall on the way home was amazing, after the heat of the caves and the walk!

We also visited the "Tiger temple", a Buddhist monastery that initially took in a couple of wounded animals from the local people, and now have a full sanctuary for a number of different animals, the largest being the Tigers.
There is a "rumor" amongst a number of travellers that the tigers there are drugged, in order for tourists to sit by them for photographs. The monastery refute this, claiming in the handout that accompanies the entrance ticket that the tigers are simply so use to humans. Certainly, there were a few baby tigers, who were running around with the farangs, playing with the kids, the handlers and even a 2 year old little boy, who was regularly nibbled on by a particularly excitable 6 week old tiger. The big tigers were half-comatose in the heat, and they lay about while tourists que to get their photo taken while stroking one. We didn't bother, though we got lots of photos fooling around with the tiger-kittens.

Before long we were on our way back to Bangkok, where we stayed out drinking again on the Kho San road, taking in the waves of Farangs, working girls, bars, moody merchandise and fantastic food stalls.
The following day we set off for Koh Chang.

To be honest, Koh Chang for me was a mammoth bus ride, a lovely air-con hotel room where I spent hours filling out forms and making notes, a bad Indian curry, a nice piece of fish, and then a mammoth bus ride back to Bangkok. I only left the room to eat and buy cigarettes and water. But apparently the beach was beautiful, and one night we watched guys dancing while twirling fire, which was cool, another night we found a bar that wasn't aimed only at matching girls with clients, which was nice. But it was soon over, and Mrs G and Becci seemed to have enjoyed themselves. I was just glad to get a start on my forms.

Unfortunately, once back in Bangkok Becci's time with us was over, and she left the night we got back from Ko Chang.

The next couple of days in Bangkok saw me finish my paperwork and DHL it back to the UK, and then we boarded a train, bound south where we would get a bus, then a ferry, then a taxi, then a taxi-boat to Koh Pa Ngan. There we were to be staying for 6 weeks at a muay thai training camp, where I can get back into training, and maybe even get a fight before we leave.

That overnight train journey was like no other we had experianced...!