We arose on Ko Phi Phi, and predictably, had to sprint (not run, sprint) the kilometer to the pier to make it to the boat on time. Dripping with sweat and slightly ahead of Rebecca, I arrived at the gate to the small boat to deliver us to Ko Lanta, and handed the woman two soggy tickets to board. Looking amused and mildly disgusted, she took the tickets and told me the boat leaves right now. As the gentlemen working on the boat told me to hurry, I stood, stalled and waited for Rebecca, and we boarded the small (40 foot?) cruiser that would take an hour and a half to cover the short distance between the islands.
As our Swedish friend had promised, Ko Lanta has a far more laid back and relaxed vibe than it's neighbor to the north. Relatively long and narrow, and running north and south, the island is
roughly 15 kilometers long. Good paved roads run along the east and west coasts, with two east-west roads connecting the coasts at the north and south ends of the island. We would dutifully explore all of the roads by motorbike over the next few days. Ko Lanta proves popular with older tourists and families, but like everywhere we have been, life is quiet and slow right now. The high season in Thailand runs from November to April, when crowds swarm the islands for a respite from winters around the world. We find ourselves now in the rainy season, late summer through early fall, but thankfully the weather has cooperated with us. We experienced a rainy day in Ko Lanta and, since arriving up north a few days ago, have seen some afternoon showers. Nothing to keep us inside for long though.
When we arrived on Ko Lanta, a much larger, 
flatter, road-accessible island, we re-joined the motorbike world, and began our ascent up the motorbike hierarchy to the beauty you see at the top of the page (no, not Rebecca, the other one), which we rode yesterday (don't worry Sue, it's a single cylinder, relatively small engine). Ko Lanta boasts beautiful sandy beaches all the way up and 
down the west coast (we stayed in the northwest, between Pra Ae and Long Beach). Sitting towards the bottom of the east coast is Lanta Town, the old fishing village and port of the island. The rest of the east coast is, for the most part, rocky and far less hospitable than the west. Ko Lanta is known for cheaper accommodations and food than its neighbors, and in the offseason, especially so. After checking in and settling in at "The Riviera," the wonderful muslim-run resort we stayed in during our time in Ko Lanta (but we would find out, to our disappointment, no liquor or pork), we procured our chopper and headed out to explore the island.We love motorbikes. We first learned of these wonderful machines in the Greek Isles, where we realized that if we rented a bike with a motor attached we would not have to pedal. Not that there is anything wrong with pedaling. I imagine if you have a leg tic, or have no gasoline, or
lived before God made motors these manually powered bicycles would be wonderful. But seeing as how we are none of the three, we like the engines. Thailand tends to be very mountainous as well, so the motorbikes are perfect. We set out in the late afternoon to explore Ko Lanta, and made an enjoyable cursory loop of the island. Being close to sunset, we began looking for a good spot. Our nightly routine in the islands involves a (sometimes over several days) pleasant quest to find the best vantage point to watch the sun go down. This really typifies the stress we deal with day to day. Because, really, nothing in our lives is worse right now than watching the sun set over the Andaman Sea, not sure if the guy in the next town/bar/hillside over has a better view. Not knowing the island well enough yet, we had to settle a bit on our first night. But the sunset was beautiful.We then set out in search of dinner. I worry sometimes that we rely too much on our trusty Lonely Planet, but so far the book has steered us in the right direction. Between it, Lillie and Amanda's experience, and the word of fellow travelers we meet, we get a pretty good idea of our options. But sometimes, like our first night in Ko Lanta, I follow Lonely Planet's recommendations with a bit too much determination.
Thais love to eat. And this works out well, because we love to eat. And we love to eat Thai food. Food vendors sell their wares everywhere in Thailand: in huge markets, on street corners, in front of stores, in parking lots. And someone always seems to be hanging around the vendors, eating and talking. It really does seem like most Thais eat all day, every day, and the enjoyment
of food seems to be a big part of the culture: it is most definitely a social experience. Our favorites are pad thai (which differs a lot depending on the restaurant/vendor), spicy papaya salad, musaman (peanut) curry, and up here in the north we have been enjoying khao soi (a sweet and spicy noodle). I also especially love the noodle soup (pork or chicken) spiced up so you sweat a little. For someone with a lifelong ramen addiction, Thailand is a wonderful place for me.So after spending the first day driving around singing Ko Lanta to the tune of Allison Krauss' Oh Atlanta, we decided it was time to eat. Lonely Planet suggested "La Laanta," which, to my delight, was at the southernmost tip of the island, allowing for a nice jaunt on the bike. With the sky growing darker by the minute, we headed south. By the time we reached the National Park we realized that
1. We missed the turn for the restaurant, though we had been paying attention.
2. It was completely dark at this point.
3. Scooter lights kind of suck.
4. There are no lights of any kind on the rocky Ko Lanta roads.
So, this set of circumstances leads to three options:
1. Go home without eating because, uh, it's dark. (obviously not)
2. Head back toward civilization, lights, and find a different place to eat because "La Laanta" is literally the farthest thing south on the entire island (other than the national park) and we are on narrow winding gravel roads with a lot of larger rocks strewn throughout. (probably a reasonable option)
3. Keep looking for the restaurant because, well, I'm stubborn.
Guess which option we chose.
So after reaching the national park, we turned around and began driving very slowly north. I then figured it would be a good idea to start turning down each road on our left. Lonely Planet designated the spot on the island where the restaurant was, so we knew it would be slightly west of the main road and in between the national park and another resort. At this point, not only are we on crappy roads with no lights, but I'm starting to worry that chainsaw wielding serial killers MUST be hanging out in the area. Waiting for two lost pharangs charging up the road on their scooter. To kill them. It reminded me of the time Dad and I were hiking out of the Grand Canyon before the sun came up, and not only was I sure that he would be bit by a rattlesnake or killed by crazy axe man (I swear the park ranger said that there was a crazy man with an axe) but I had actually figured out how I would save us. (I would run ahead and try to get help, sadly, but heroically). At some point, I even told Dad I would walk in front so the snake would bite me. That way he could carry me to safety (because I damn sure couldn't carry him).
I probably worry too much.
We got from the national park to the resort north of La Laanta without finding the place. We were about to give up when, standing on the side of the road running along a cliff overlooking the sea, we could see a few lights just south of us. We turned around again. We made our way back to a road we had seen, but had passed by because it seemed impossibly steep, unbelievably rocky, and very unlikely to yield anything at the end (and no signs were posted). We tried it anyway, and were astonished when we reached a resort at the end of the long and winding road. The place was beautiful, and about a dozen tables were set up around a bar, several spilling onto the sandy beach. We found a table, and the (very effeminate and friendly) waiter came up to us confused.
"You are not staying here, are you?" No, we replied. "How did you find this place?"
We laughed, and told him it hadn't been easy. I wondered if maybe business wouldn't pick up a little bit if they put a sign out or something. He then went on (I swear this is true) to advise us not to stop the bike on the way back. I foolishly asked why.
"Someone will pretend their bike is broken, and you will stop to help them. Then they will take your money and hurt you."
Thanks pal. Thanks a hell of a lot. All I need is for you to validate the crazy thoughts I already have running through my head. Suppose I told you about chainsaw man who goes from resort to resort, butchering every maître d' he can find. We already have an hour long ride home on roads
that really aren't fit for an ATV, much less a scooter. In the dark. I really need you warning me about crazy people on the side of the road.I thanked him.
We ordered food, and that meal may still be the best we have had. Wonton soup, musaman curry and spicy papaya salad. All washed down with Singha. They even had Jack Daniels for a reasonable price, and I had my first bourbon of the trip. It was truly a wonderful meal, made even better because of the difficulty finding the place, the seclusion, and the fact that we were eating ON the beach. It was not even compromised by thoughts of dangerous roads, even more dangerous hooligans, and dark scooter rides. It was the perfect end to a great first day on Ko Lanta. We had a very fast, if uneventful ride home.
We even sang a little.
/slipping into my Allison Krauss voice
Ko Lanta, I hear you caaaallllling...
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