Ko Phangan

We arrived in Ko Phangan at 5:00 a.m., aching for sleep but thankful to be exiting the narrow confines of the "boat" we were leaving behind. We had still not decided what we wanted to do, whether we wanted to move on to quiet Ko Samui or stay and brave the famous Ko Phangan full moon party that night. We decided to check a few guesthouses and see whether the prices were reasonable and if, indeed, we could even get a room. Once we withstood the barrage of tuk tuk and taxi drivers, we made our way down the pier and on to the island proper. We saw a sign adorned with "Thai Coffee," and we were in. We collapsed into two seats on either end of a table on the side of the road. A very friendly Thai woman smiled and brought us coffee, telling us that doughnuts would be ready soon. They were setting out tables, pulling out boxes of utensils and otherwise preparing for the day's business. We assumed it would be busy based on the full moon party set to descend in southeastern Hat Rim later that night. We watched as she prepared the small balls of dough, rolling, battering, and then dropping them in the hot oil. I wondered if she had every heard of Krispy Kreme.

After coffee and some truly amazing doughnuts, we rented a motorbike from Li and set out to find accommodations. After checking a few resorts, we realized that (probably because of it being the low season) we could find reasonable rates pretty easily. We checked three or four resorts, as we usually do, and settled on one. We had a nice little bungalow by the beach, and agreed that we would check out the adequacy of the bed as soon as we had a bite to eat. It had been a long night on that boat.

Ko Phangan has a reputation as a very touristy, hard-partying island. That reputation is partly earned, partly a byproduct of the admittedly crazy full moon parties (we would later find out that resorts around the island also throw "Half Moon parties," "no moon parties," and "shiva moon parties" as well. No, I am not making this up. Basically, every 3-4 nights kids rage on Ko Phangan to celebrate the moon's relative placement in the sky. The moon laughs and keeps orbiting). I'm sure that the island was fairly quiet outside of Hat Rim due to the low season, but we would learn to love the small island over the next few days. Wild, mountainous, lush jungles, rivers, good food, good guesthouses, and fantastic beaches made Ko Phangan quite possibly our favorite of the islands we visited. Outside of Hat Rim, Phangan proved a very friendly, vibrant place. Of course we found the ubiquitous Bob Marley bars somewhat cliched, but hey. Bob is great to listen to at the beach- maybe the best (I know some will throw in Jimmy Buffet, and I can't argue too much. This reminds me of a discussion we have had several times here: outside of Michael Jackson, is Bob Marley the most famous/popular/beloved musician globally? I say yes, and I don't even know who else is in the discussion. Elvis? The Beatles?). But we loved Ko Phangan: loved the vibe, the size, the blend of mountains and rivers and beaches. Right in our wheelhouse.

So we wanted to sleep. Right after we ate. We headed out for a bite before our nap, determined to have some delicious bit of local fare. Some seafood, a new, different kind of Thai cuisine, particular to the beautiful island we graced. And then we passed a brick oven pizza place. And lo and behold, right there on the television, was a real, honest to goodness NFL game. Cowboys-Jets, opening Sunday night of the season. Needless to say, I spent the next two hours there. And it is still the only football I have watched (I know, just another American tourist complaining about the differences). On a side note, the pizza was actually pretty damn good, too. After our slice of the west, we drove carefully back to our bungalow. I say carefully, because earlier that morning we had met an American (our first) while we were hunting for our beds. As Rebecca went to check the place out, I saw him walking up with bandages on both elbows, both knees, and a large one wrapped around his head.

"Motorbike accident?" I asked.

"Yeah. Drunk driving last night, took a turn too fast, hit a guardrail and went down. Woken up by the roving ambulance. I'm okay though. My first Thai tattoo."

Several things struck me then. First, I was delighted that the first American we had met was driving his motorbike, in the middle of the night, drunk, down a windy mountain road at high speeds. And, oddly enough, he had crashed.

Say it with me now: "U! S! A! U! S! A! U! S! A!"

Second, I found myself a little unnerved that so many accidents happen on Ko Phangan that they send ambulances around the island, almost 24 hours a day, solely to seek out motorbike accidents.

And third, that American introduced us to the phenomenon of the "Thai tattoo," which characterizes the many cuts, scrapes, bruises, and breaks that mar the figures of travelers all over the country. It was the first we had seen, but certainly not the last.

And fourth, just know that I have been knocking on wood so furiously for the past few minutes that my knuckles are getting sore.
We went back to the bungalow and slept. Hard. Slept like we had been chained to the deck of a cargo ship all night.

We had every intention of going to the full moon party, we really did. We definitely were not put off by the neon-painted painfully-drunken faces of the young kids scattered about the island. We were going to go, if only to chronicle the event for posterity: take some pictures, see what the fuss was about, maybe have a couple of stories to tell. But Rebecca got whatever had gotten me in Ko Lanta, and after a herculean effort to drink a few beers and power through, she succumbed to the gods of the porcelain. I went to shoot a few games of pool with the other folks at the guesthouse and gave her time to try and feel better, but I knew damned well (from the day before) that we were in for the night, and hopefully not the next day too. Overcome with relief that I would not be expected to party with drunk 20 year olds until sunrise, I played a game of pool, returned to the room and assured Reba we weren't missing much. And that is how we spent the night of the full moon party- an event that kids from all over Thailand drop everything to make their way to Ko Phangan for- in our room, 9 kilometers away, reading a book. Damn we are old.

The next morning we headed out to explore the island, and I'm quite certain we were the only ones awake and on the roads before lunchtime that day. It was kind of nice. We barreled down empty roadways, giving the bikes (we got Rebecca one that morning) just a bit more gas than usual. We stopped at the rope-swing bar. I treated my body to a very rude awakening (slapping the water at all sorts of angles) and Rebecca drank fruity drinks. We then cruised up to the northern part of the island, which we heard was very laid back and beautiful. Seeming like a wonderful time for a snorkel, we corralled the bikes and headed to the beach, armed with the masks and snorkels that we are still carrying around (for some reason) weeks later and hundreds of kilometers from any beaches (she won't leave them, Julian. We might need them again, you know?) We kicked around the bay, relaxing and checking out the fish that, though not as spectacular as Phi Phi, were nevertheless plentiful. The northwestern part of Phangan boasts two bays separated by a large peninsula jutting into the sea. Thinking we could find some really good snorkeling along the edge of the rocky peninsula, we began swimming along the limestone. After a few minutes, we stopped for a rest on the rocks.

"I'm going to go back to the beach and get some sun." Rebecca said, quite reasonably.

"Let's just swim around the peninsula. It's not that big, and I'll bet the fish and coral are awesome out there."

We soon discovered several problems with those assumptions and the subsequent plan:

1. The peninsula that looked "not that big," was, in fact, pretty big. Way bigger than it looked from the land side. Kind of a "reverse teardrop" shape.

2. The fish and the coral may have been awesome out there, but we certainly couldn't see them. The sand, bubbles, and churning waters kicked up by the waves on the unprotected, seaward side of the peninsula made visibility impossible.

3. The waves on the unprotected, seaward side of the peninsula made swimming very unpleasant.

4. The slippery, jagged, unyielding rocks, mixed with the waves (see above) made resting very unpleasant.

5. The curses, insults, and occasional fists being hurled by Rebecca had me nervous about the aftermath throughout the swim.

About an hour later (plus or minus), we could see the other end of the peninsula. We both relaxed a little, thinking we had reached the beach, food, safety, shelter, and beer. Oh no though. Not yet. The tide receded, yielding a minefield of jagged rocks covered by about a foot of seawater, a hundred feet of which separated us from the golden promises of the beach ahead. We had to crawl across the rocks (it hurt too much to stand) and swim where we could, just trying not to slice open our knees and hands. After another 20 minutes of this we emerged, slightly bloodied and very tired, onto the beach. Rebecca actually proved to be remarkably reasonable about the entire experience. I managed to get out of the whole episode relatively unscathed: we would have Mexican food that night and would do no hiking/snorkeling or swimming the next day. Unless in a pool. I quickly agreed. I may be many things, but I know when I'm beat. Especially when my wife is concerned.















And let's face it, it's easy to relax in this place. Just watch out for the drunk Americans on motorbikes. One thing is for sure though:

We heard the full moon party was a lot of fun...