The Unexpected Undertaking: THAILAND 4: Abandoned Bungalows

"One man's trash is another man's treasure . . ." - Unknown

Our schooling to receive a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certification was over, our visas were soon to expire, and we found ourselves once again packing up.

“There’s this island called Koh Phayam southwest of here, there we can cross into Burma to get a visa extension.” Justin was stooped over the computer eyeing the map. You could see the calculations forming in his head. “We could spend two days on the island and then head over to Burma for our extension before heading to Nonthaburi to start teaching. What do you think?”

“Burma? That’s what I get for saying I wouldn’t go there.” I said shaking my head at myself. “Sounds good to me. I can’t complain about a few more days on the beach!”

The bus ride to Ranong, a dirty border town that smelled strongly of day old fish, was a good 9 hours and uneventful. Ranong . . . well, let’s just say that I was happy we were only staying one night and heading to the beautiful island the next morning. We stayed in a guesthouse run by ‘the angry German’, as we like to refer to him. He made an amazing Cordon bleu, but liked to talk strongly about his dislike of all other people, and how he ran his guesthouse his way - end of discussion. We nodded in agreement for the fear of being kicked out for speaking out of turn.

There were hot springs nearby; we were happy to get away from his mad rants and soak away the knots and aching bones from the long bus ride. The room was damp, and the shower cold, but overall it was a safe place to rest for the night.

The next morning the angry German drove us to the pier to catch our boat to Koh Phayam. The entire way I watched warily as a spider the size of my palm crawled across the roof of the truck stopping directly above me. I pulled my hood over my head and held my breath. This distracted me from the aggravated monologue the German was spouting off, “Every-von zat comes here says zat Ranong eez shit! But I say, How do you know Ranong eez shit? You haff only seen zuh pier. Ranong eez not shit!”

Simultaneously we released a sigh of relief as we sat on the quiet boat headed to Koh Phayam. “Ranong was shit!” laughed Justin as we sailed safely away through the muddy waters.

Upon reaching the island we headed towards the scooter rental shop that was recommended to us by the angry German, supposedly it was his ex-wife’s place and she was going to give us a good deal ‘for their daughter’s sake’. We walked amongst the tiny shops littering the beach, and finally came to the green shop with the blue roof.

The sun was still high in the sky, but the dragon in my stomach was growling informing me that it was nearly dinner time. We had made an online reservation at a nearby bungalow, and were glad for it as we could ignore the mass of people shoving brochures in your hands and trying to haggle you as you passed. We would be there in no time, fed, comfortable, and settled in to watch the sunset.

We loaded down our scooter with our massive backpack, left Justin’s bag at the bike rental shop promising to return the next morning to retrieve it, and headed off to our bungalow. The pictures online promised a sandy secluded beach, on a cove ideal for snorkeling, and our own bungalow complete with cold shower and toilet.

There are no cars on the island of Koh Phayam, and the roads comprised of a cement strip not much larger than a sidewalk. We followed the road enjoying its gentle rise and fall, and stopping once to check to map Justin informed me, “We should only be about five minutes away.” I looked quizzically toward where the road ended fifty feet ahead.

“So. . .” I mused aloud, “Our bungalow is at the end of this dirt road? Do you think our scooter will make it there?”

“According to the map,” Justin said looking down to double check his prediction.

The scooter slipped wildly in the mud, and threatened to buck us and our back off. “Why don’t I get off and walk.”

Justin tried to force the bike to maintain its course, but it jerked and fishtailed making it nearly impossible to make much ground. Meanwhile, I had my own mud to deal with. My first step off the bike told me that it was going to be much easier said than done to walk to the top of the hill. I lifted my foot and my sandal stuck fast to the muddy road. I pulled at my sandal with much effort, twisted up my face showing the tremendous effort I was making, and with a deep sucking sound a boisterous ‘pop!’ it finally released and I flew back leaving my other sandal behind hidden beneath the orange mud. I repeated my attempts to retrieve my other sandal, and began walking barefoot through the muck and jagged rocks.

I finally reached Justin where he had successfully ridden the bike to the top of the small hill; a large feat that was rudely rewarded. “We won’t be able to ride any further. We’ll have to leave the bike here and walk the rest of the way.”

I stood before him with my pants pulled up past my knees with one hand, my sandals muddied in the other, my glasses crooked on my faces, and my feet yellowed from the mud. “Right,” I chuckled and shook my head amused at the situation. “As long as we can eat soon; I’m starving!”

The road ahead proved to be very steep, and uneven from the jagged rocks and gnarled roots. A few birds chirped, the trees rustled, but the silence was foreboding. I looked around for any sign of human life.

“Finally!” Justin exclaimed while picking up his pace and racing towards the bungalows. “Hello! Anyone here?”

I meandered in behind him, trying to hone my ‘feelers’. “Hmmmm . . . Justin, I don’t think there is anyone within 50 yards of us.”

It didn’t take my sixth sense to confirm that we had reached an abandoned establishment for upon further investigation we discovered a deserted restaurant with the chairs upside down on the tables and coated with dust suggesting that they hadn’t served guests for a very long time. A tiny, emaciated black cat wandered out from behind the bar and meowed in desperation, making the scene before us slightly eerie. We walked down to the beach where a shovel stuck up in the sand near a large hole, the tide sighed in and out with lonely breaths, and the trees swayed slightly in the breeze.

We turned in the sand towards the hillside covered in palms and brush to see dark bungalows nestled amongst the foliage. “Unless someone is planning on coming out of the trees to make use of this hole . . . I don’t think anyone is here.” I tried to make light of the situation.

“Too bad we don’t have any food with us, or we could just stay up in the bungalow anyway.” Justin said still trying to take in the full truth of the situation.

I walked back towards the dining area and plopped down on a dark wooden chair, and pulled out a smashed muffin from my bag. A small dog ran up to great us, and hungrily licked up the crumbs that were falling around my feet.

“Well, I guess the only option we have now is to try and find another place to stay.”

“And eat!” I added trying desperately to refrain from transforming into a dragon.

Justin nodded curtly, and glanced sideways at me to see how far along I was into my transformation. I thought I saw him swallow hard, and assumed that my skin was already turning green and my eyes red. I have found that I need to be fed on a regular bases or a beast wakes up inside of me and promises to polish off anyone near enough to be devoured. My senses darken, and my ability to make decisions becomes limited as my thoughts narrow to one thought . . . food.

“I’m being eaten alive!” I said while swatting off an army of mosquitoes.

“Alright, let’s go.” Justin lead the way up the hill and back to the bike.