(Ripley's) Believe It, or Not!

I meant to start A Confederacy of Dunces on the ferry crossing to Phuket, but as we walked down the pier I realized I’d forgotten to take puker’s little helper. “Oh well,” I thought, “I’ll be fine.” Famous last words, of course. The ferry rounded the corner out of Tonsai Bay and climbed up and down the first wave. The coffee sloshed around in my belly seeking desperately for a crumb of sustenance to hang onto, my heart and stomach tried to switch places and any chance of reading so much as the first sentence of Confederacy fell overboard.

Nicole gave me a tablet which started taking effect just in time for the boat to reach the lay of Phuket land, giving me all the icky drowsy side effects and none of the relief. The ferry climbed mountains and descended waterfalls for an hour as I turned greener and greener and quiter and quieter.

I intended to start A Confederacy of Dunces again on Monday on the bus ride up to Ranong. After 2 sleepless nights and a puker’s little helper, I fell asleep the moment my butt hit the seat, slept through the breakfast stop, slept through the downpours, awaking only momentarily to turn from one uncomfortable position into a slightly less uncomfortable position, repeating the process when said position became unbearable, back to the first position. Ryan woke me up after what felt like an hour – we’d been on the road four or five and were in Ranong ready to go through customs and get on the ferry to cross the border into Myanmar.

It then became my intention to read Confederacy on the ride back down from Ranong, but after a lunch which I’d yet again ordered thinking it was vegetarian and ended up picking meat off my eggs prior to consumption, I read about 20 pages and the puker’s little helper must have worn off and all the water I drank sloshed around in my belly trying desperately to hang on to something and finding nothing but slippery egg, and I was carsick again. Spent the rest of the ride laid out on the luxurious back seat watching the end of Singles and fading in and out of a very very very bad movie starring no one important enough to make it worth watching.

I went to Phuket sans Ryan who had to finish up a course before joining me on Sunday, but in company of Nic. And as it turned, other of “the girls” were in Phuket as well. After a somewhat boring round of the Dive Supply shin dig where Nicole bought herself a couple of new toys and I won a couple of expensive land torches, we reconvened for a night out on the Old Phuket Town. A dive called Rockin’ Angels – a little hole in the wall that was meant to be a jazz club as it had been billed to me, but was in fact a blues club with a band covering Dylan, the Doors, Hendrix and “Born to Hand Jive Baby!!!”

Morning came early on Sunday. We’d planned to meet up at 6:15 to go to the Vegetarian Festival. Lisa then found out that the pre-parade festivities were not convenient to us and the time was pushed back to 9:00. Having again not slept the night before I grunted my way through a few conversations with Nicole and was quite pleased to go back to sleep when she finally left.

Morning came early again on Monday as we made the aforementioned mandatory trek to Burma. Monday ended with a meander down the stalls of the vegetarian festival in search of foods for Ryan and my dinner. I came home loaded down with samosa type delights, pad see ew noodle dish, curries and a special dessert treat for Ryan – mango sticky rice.

Tuesday came early again. Thinking that the parade started at 9:00, I’d set the alarm clock for 8:00, thinking we’d luxuriate in a bit of snoozing before finally getting up. But we were brutally awoken at 7:30 by the banging of the drums and the popping of the firecrackers.

I remember when I was a kid, my dad’s favorite show was Ripley’s Believe It or Not, at the time narrated by Jack Palance. Surely Jack must have ended a segment on the Vegetarian Festival with his famous catchphrase, “believe it, or not.” The Vegetarian Festival is a Chinese-Buddhist period of atonement during which members engage not only in a vegetarian or vegan diet, but also in various acts of self-mutilation. We saw men and women parading down the street with a variety of implements speared through their faces – from knives and spears to an umbrella handle. We saw one man hitting himself in the head with an axe, blood trickling down his face. One man had a spear through his cheeks and what appeared like small arrows pierced through the flesh all up his arms and across his shoulders. A few men spasmodic in full on trance were guided down the road. What is unclear is the hoodoo voodoo peyote type junk these people are smoking to get themselves in this trance state. The following images from the Phuket Vegetarian Festival are probably not for the weak of stomachs.























After this strange wake up call it was back to refuge from the rain under the covers of a warm bed and escapist Iron Man on the computer. And another round of the delectables from the Veggie Fest street cars before grabbing a taxi back to the ferry.
Upon one year of living in Thailand we now know the ins and outs of getting around Phuket without getting ripped off.

Now back on PP! It was a slow wet week of too much time sitting in the shop watching the rain pour down in sheets as wind whips broken pieces of palm trees all around the island. The sun didn’t shine and Paradise was dismal looking. It was upon the completion of this dismal week that I quit. Completely unexpected, Saturday night ended with me walking into Barakuda after an unpleasant conversation with the manager and the rude text message that followed to talk to him about exactly how he was and was not going to treat me. We walked to the back, he started yelling at me. I told him he was full of crap and my final words were, “Ed, I’m all done with you, I quit.”

Not the best timing as I had a student, the girlfriend of a previous student, arriving on the island the following day. I was able to find a very nice shop to let me teach my course and was rewarded with a wonderfully delightful student who is doing not only her Open Water, but also her Advanced. It has been a very busy few days as we’re on a very aggressive schedule to finish her off before the 24 hour clock starts ticking down, but I’m very grateful for the work since I don’t know where or when the next baht will be.

Friday will come and first I clean our room, then I update the resume and start pounding the pavement.

I miss my friends at Barakuda a lot even though we’re on the same teeny tiny island. It’s not same same. But I reached the boiling point and the pot was spilling over. I feel like a bit of an idiot because I didn’t make my goal which was quite close, but on the other hand, I made my expectations perfectly clear and they were not met. And, I couldn’t imagine having to go in there one more day and look at Ed’s face and have to listen to him go on and on and on about this or that.

Well, as they say in Thailand, we love you long time.

Peace out!

Back to the Grind

I know, many of you are waiting for an update and none has come yet. It’s not lack of interest in you, but a general feeling like there’s simply not much to tell. I keep launching Word on my laptop, staring at a blank screen for a while and then impatiently turn my attention to something else.

Our second year in Thailand is under way and we’ve returned to the island for another season: back to Fatty and Little Girl, back to A27 Valentine Bungalows and back to our respective work places.

August, for me, brought, as predicted, quite a bit of work, though perhaps a little slower than last year. Then full moon arrived on August 25th and overnight everyone left the island and only a handful of people are hopping off the ferry every day.

I found my place back at Barakuda amongst a handful of colleagues, the numbers of which are dropping daily. Lee, the owner, has left us with the most insufferable manager who is pushing people out the door faster than dengue spreads through a mosquito infested Thai island. Those of us left are planning mutiny. Those of us left are still there because we enjoy each other’s company and because we like the shop and the money that’s to be made there. But none of us is willing to spend high season under this oppression. He’s a mean mean man and I can’t listen to him anymore. He’s a drunk and is worse after he’s started drinking, which starts earlier and earlier every day. So we are going to put forth to Lee that the problem needs to be fixed, letting him understand that we will all leave if it doesn’t change without making it sound like an ultimatum. I’m just not sure Lee cares though – I’d already told him that Ed was out of control (as had many of my colleagues) and that’s when he promoted him to manager. So we might all be looking for another job here shortly. Now the key is to find a place that will take 3 older American instructors.

Speaking of dengue, the mosquitoes have been abundant, large, vicious and disease ridden. Ryan had it. Two of our neighbours had it. Most of Ryan’s work had it. I’m not sure what I had, maybe dengue light. I was breakfasting at Ruthie’s one morning with our friend Caroline and she pulled out a mosquito carcass that she’d saved from work claiming it was the biggest mosquito she’d ever seen.

A couple of highlights of the past month:

We have had some unbelievably good diving. I think that I like low season better. It’s much quieter, there’s a lot less divers on the reefs and as a consequence there’s more sharks on the reef. I’ve had a few dives at Shark Point with leopard sharks swimming around everywhere and bamboo sharks in every hole. And recently we had visibility at Bida Nok like I haven’t ever seen, I don’t think. We could see Black Tip Sharks swimming around from 20 meters away.

I’ve had the opportunity for lots of Yoga. Keira is away visiting friends and family in Europe, but she’s had a replacement instructor: Jennifer from Venice, CA. I’ve been getting stronger and better and still really enjoying it.

I’ve gone with the girls up the mountain a couple of times to explore some of what’s on the other side and found some lovely beaches and seen some cool critters up there as well: lizards and monkeys and ants and butterflies.

Cats on the island have been insane. It’s mating season. There’s a cute little tabby girl at Ruthie’s that’s about to give birth before day’s end. And we spent about 3 days being entertained by a female cat across the street from the shop with all her male kitty suitors.

Well that’s all the news that’s fit to print at the mo. I’m trying to enjoy time with my friends as this time may be short if the proverbial hits the fan at Barakuda.

Road to Civilization

I wonder if I have "American" stamped on my forehead. Even without flashing my little blue American passport, people still want to speak English to me. I'm in France, speak French, dammit!

Landed in Paris to the most dreary of weather. 5 degrees celsius AND drizzling. Glimpses of a sun were caught prior to descending below clouds. And now just doom and gloom. I forgot to take my long-sleeve shirt out of my suitcase prior to check-in, so I feel positively ridiculous, not to mention cold, wearing nothing but hammer pants, a tank top and flip-flops. Clearly, I didn't think this through quite right. Typical.

I'm enjoying a cappuccino and the flakiest of chocolate croissants. The croissant cost 4 times what a croissant cost at the French Bakery on Phi Phi's Main Street. Actually, my breakfast just cost the equivalent of 2 meals on Phi Phi and I'm going to double that as I'm about to go for another round. I need to just not convert. But surely even in France, $10 (or 6 Euros) can't possibly be reasonable for a cup of coffee and a danish! But good grief, I could eat 15 of these croissants!

I'm amazed that so far everything has gone very smoothly. When planning the flights, my dad suggested that we book an earlier flight out of Phuket in the interest of giving more leeway in Bangkok in case the flight was delayed. Hindsight, I should have known that was a bad idea. The ferry took 2 hours to cross instead on 1 1/2 - I don't know why it's been that way lately. The only moment of impatience I had was at Rassada Pier waiting for Chao Koh's Pichamon ferry to unload the contents of its guts before gathering all those going to the airport onto a minibus. I did make sure to ask the driver before we departed if we were going direct to the airport or driving all around Phuket first. I figured I could still salvage the situation and catch a taxi. But, for ye of little faith, myself included, I made it to the airport exactly one hour before my flight was due to leave.

Bangkok was boring. I had 3 hours to wait and not much to do. The choice of restaurants included one that served Shark Fin soup that made me want to burn the place down - I get so upset, it's physical - I could seriously see myself setting fire to a place for those kinds of reasons. I ended up ordering some fries at Burger King and feeling like a sell-out whore while I was eating them and like crap afterwards with all that grease sitting on my belly. But I was vehemently against spending 150 baht on a pad thai - on the island, I get pad thai for like 50 baht. I hate airport food - the choice is always going to be the lesser of a couple of evils.

After my computer crapped out yet again because it's overheating, I did buy myself a little fan tray at duty free. It was probably a little more expensive than if I'd just gone to the basement of Big C, but it works fabulous!

With all of you as my witnesses I take the following vow: I am NEVER EVER flying an American airline again unless I have positively no other choice (i.e., traveling in the U.S.). Air France rocked! At first I was a little dismayed that it wasn't a big old Boeing 747 type plane, but the service was impeccable and everything was FREE! My seat was a front aisle seat with no one next to me, so unfortunately I couldn't put the armrest up, but I was still able to sleep most of the way. Though I should have listened to myself at the airport and bought some Valium or Atavan from the Boots to konk me out completely. At any rate, they didn't find it necessary to wake me up every time they brought food or drink around like the China Airlines gals on the way to Taipei.

I honestly can't believe that it's May 12 and people are bundled up like it's the middle of winter. I left Phi Phi, it was so hot my fore-arms were sweating just walking down the street. Not going to say any more about the heat - I know you're all tired of reading about it.

Chris came back from his second Similans trip on Saturday and I took Sunday and Monday off work so he and I could go fun diving together before I left for vacation and he leaves Phi Phi for good. It was fantastic to dive together again, without following or leading. We spent ages just puttering about and photographing things at our own leisurely pace. It's a whole different diving experience. I also wanted to spend a bit of proper time with him and not have our goodbyes be hurried, "okay it was nice to see you" kinda goodbyes. Who knows when next our paths will cross. Though, he's off to Sipadan and I've already threatened to go visit him before long.

Fatty had babies. Well, I guess technically he didn't have babies, but he sure as hell knocked up some little tramp who had Fatty offspring. I know they're Fatty's because clearly those little nuts did not fall too far from the tree. They totally have Fatty personality. There's 5 of them. 2 boys, 3 girls. They're probably about 2 to 3 months old by now and growing daily. My two favorites are the healthiest and the runt. I think I've just about named all of them at this point: Scout, Boo Radley, Junior, Helmethead and NoName - just by virtue of the fact that I kept calling the last one no name because I hadn't named it, it's name became No Name. I'm going to be gone for about 3 weeks by the time I've had my holiday and travelled to and from. This 3 week period is going to tell me one of two things about my boyfriend. Either he's a mean old human or he's a bigger sucker than I am. We used to feed 3 adult cats. Now we're feeding 3 adult cats and 5 kittens, so at this rate, we'll soon enough be feeding 8 adult cats. If when I return to Phi Phi, we're back to feeding only 3 adult cats, then I'll know that my boyfriend is a mean old human with nothing but evil in his heart. If when I come back we're feeding 8 cats, then I'll know that my boyfriend is at least as big a sucker as I am if not bigger. There is also the very distinct possibility that the real owners of all these kittens actually plan to turn them into 5 baht kittens and sell them. I don't need to own cats, but boy would I love to keep Scout and Boo Radley. Boo Radley has some respiratory problem and honestly at the rate he's going, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it.

Well, I made it to Malaga, Spain in fairly good form. The most exciting part of my trip came right at the end. When I went to baggage claim, the board had posted carousel number 39 for my flight's bags. So I went and waited at carousel 39 and watched bags turn and turn and turn. Then the carousel stopped. And my bag hadn't come out. I overheard somebody say that bags were also coming out on carousel 40. So I turned around and indeed, the little monitor for carousel 40 informed me that these were bags that had originated in non-EU countries. Super. I watched bags go around that carousel until it stopped and my bag hadn't come out. I stood in line at the Air Europa counter and dialogued with a man in Espanol to be told that I needed to go to carousel 31. Okay. So off I trotted to carousel 31 which was enclosed in a "special" area. And there was my little suitcase waiting for me on a stopped carousel. Hurrah, we were reunited at long-last. Eager to go find my parents, I grabbed my suitcase and marched towards the exit to be stopped abruptly by a stocky, rotund bearded security guard who barked at me in Espanol about something to declare. No, no tengo. Again with the something to declare. No. Asked me where I came from. Tailandia. Asked me again if I had something to declare. No. And you came from Thailand. Yes. And you have nothing to declare? No. That's when he called his buddy over. Same thing with his buddy, who limited it to one interrogation then told me to put my suitcase on the xray machine. Then we examined the bones of my suitcase together as he pointed and asked me "what's that." I guessed, "hard drive???" Then he asked me for all the contents of my suitcase. Clothes, camera, hard drive, toiletries and yoga mat. I think it was the yoga mat that stopped the interrogation. Not smuggling drugs, not smuggling weapons, dude, I come in Peace!

Songkran, Protests and Ash

This week marked Songkran, the Thai New Year, and my birthday. Songkran was a blast! It is celebrated with a water festival and with no car traffic to worry about, the streets of Phi Phi were mad! A few of us went diving in the morning and our boat was met at the pier by the merry pranksters of Barakuda – the young boys with faces painted in a mixture of talcum powder and water, armed with water rifles. Nic and I promptly ended up tossed over the side of the boat into yucky pier water. Barakuda had been hijacked and was battle station waging war on all passerby. Ice cold water being launched from water rifles. It took me almost an hour to get home as every turn was met with more lovely Thai faces pouring small amounts of water on me or rubbing my face with the water/talcum powder mixture.

Since Phi Phi has a huge water problem (at least I assume that’s why), Songkran only lasts a day. In Chang Mai, Songkran central, celebrations last for 5 days. Honestly, I can’t imagine this lasting 5 days. You can’t go two steps without getting soaked.

That evening Barakuda threw a BBQ – Lee grilled some chicken and Ruthie, Cliff, Heather and I made sides. There was a wonderful group effort potato salad lovingly concocted of potatoes, bacon and bacon drippings, garlic, egg, mayo, Dijon and wasabi. Cheesy garlic bread. Veg salad. Next BBQ I’ve decided should be New Orleans themed and Ruthie and I will make Crawfish Monica except with Shrimp instead of crawfish. With Jazz Fest right around the corner, I’m thinking that might be a good occasion for a BBQ even if only 3 of us care about Jazz Fest.

Post Songkran has been super slow. Oh and then there’s the other reasons why we’re slow. I’m fairly certain that the protests in Bangkok are affecting people’s travel plans to Thailand. And then the black cloud of ash over Europe has reduced air traffic by more than 75% and that can’t be doing us any good either.

I know that I start to sound like a broken record when I repeat myself and that you guys don’t want to read the same crap over and over again, but it has really reached levels of heat the likes us little white folk from California have probably rarely experienced and it is way too hot not to be diving. It seems like the island has suddenly come to a standstill.

I have to go see my parents and have been debating when to go. I was trying to coincide it with a visa run, but am now thinking that if it’s going to be this slow, I might as well go soon and just get a 30 day stamp in my passport upon return. Then Ryan and I can figure out what we’re doing and if we stay longer then we’ll just do a visa run together. I’d like to go back to Laos.

I never did write about our last visa run/Similans excursion. The Similans were a wonderful break. It was very nice diving but with killer currents and thermoclines. The temperature dropped all the way from 29 to 24 degrees on one dive – that’s bloody cold! I can probably best describe it simply by posting pictures. The highlights were of course being the follower and not the leader underwater, taking lots of pictures and all the new critters we saw. Whale sharks still don’t exist.

The liveaboard experience was nice. We followed this schedule: wake-up between 6:30 and 7:00 and light breakfast (piece of toast, cereal, coffee). 7:30 to 8:00 first dive. Then real breakfast generally involving eggs, pancake or French toast and the likes. Then about an hour break. Then dive 2. Then lunch. Then about an hour break then dive 3. Then a snack – usually sandwiches. Then another hour to hour and a half break. Then dusk or night dive. Then dinner. Many of those hour breaks were spent napping.

We spent two nights in Khao Lak which is essentially one street lined with restaurants, dive shops, guesthouses, 7-11’s and souvenir shops. On the outskirts are hoity toity resorts. Otherwise, it’s obvious it exists purely to service the Similans. We had one excellent but super pricey Indian meal and one decent but super cheap Thai meal.

And spent a day with our asses in a mini bus, me praying all the way to Ranong that my life wasn’t going to end with my head through the windshield. The Burma crossing was another experience in time suckage. We were picked up almost an hour later than we’d been told and winded our way up to Ranong, crossed water in a rinky-dink little ferry to the Burmese side, spent all of 5 minutes in Burma, which were sufficient to see that it is a completely difference world and then retraced our steps back to Khao Lak 1500 baht lighter apiece. What I did note was the large wad of crisp American cash that was handed over to the Burmese border officials when they stamped our passports. Ah, the all-mighty dollar!

And then we went back to Phi Phi. We got picked up from Khao Lak by a minibus at 6:20 in the morning and then there was a whole hoopla over our bags which ended up making us ten minutes late for the ferry and rewarded us with a 2 hour wait at Rassada Pier.
We arrived back on Phi Phi at 1:00 and at 1:30 I was escorting customers to Magnifica for afternoon dives.

Yesterday was my birthday, the last before a big one! It was spent doing absolutely nothing, which is how I like to spend my days off. We had sunset at Sunflower and a great Indian dinner. This morning I went for my birthday massage and learned to my great disappointment that my massage place is closing at the end of the month.

Well, that’s all the news that’s fit to print.

Peace. xoxoxo

Whale Sharks, Here We Come!!!!

Maybe the next great American-French novel will be scripted at Sunflower Bar as here I sit again penning a few lines for you all. Today all the colors seem particularly vivid – the turquoise of the sea, the greens of the palm trees, the red tarp on the longtail, the gray of the rocks and the beige sand. The high tide wavelets are slap-slapping against the rocks. A father and two sons are bouncing pool balls around a table and what I can best describe as light alternative rock is coming from the speakers.

I’ve put in my order for Kimmie’s Special (tuna melt with chili peppers), French fries and a soda water.

After HUGE amounts of juggling and frustration, we’re booked for a Similans trip that leaves March 9th for 4 days/4 nights. The trip we originally wanted to go on because some of our friends are going on it didn’t work out because Blue View has one of their Canadian groups coming the same week. Then the trip Ryan wanted to go on didn’t work because two other people from Barakuda were going to be gone that week. It’s also a bit of juggling because we have to do a border crossing to activate part 2 of our double entry visas before the 21st of March and we were wanting to combine the two. I’m resigned – nothing can be simple when trying to organize a trip!

It’s fourteen dives, including 3 night dives. Ryan and I are sharing a twin room, because that’s all that was available and Chris has himself booked for a quad. I’m of course afraid that I’m going to roll out of bed. As some of you may know, I’ve fallen out of a twin-sized bed as an adult. So I’m almost hoping that it will be a little like the Channel Islands where your bed is more of a coffin-bunk than an actual twin size bed. But somehow, I think this is a little more upscale than the Truth Aquatics boats!

If you want to take a look at the boat: http://www.khaolakscubaadventures.com/liveaboards/37. Unfortunately, they don’t post the itinerary, so you’ll have to wait on my debrief for that.

Here we go chasing Mantas and Whale Sharks, so wish us luck!

The staff at Barakuda is starting to thin out. We’ve had two instructors leave and two more will be leaving in the next 10 days or so and then another shortly after. It’s becoming a bit more chill of an environment. This morning, a friend of mine and I were starting to talk a little bit about how we can make it our own now that the curmudgeon-y old timers are leaving.

My big beef about staff and Barakuda continues to be that we have to have sufficient staff for two shops which is not necessarily the amount of staff we need for the diving. Sitting at the shop doesn’t pay a single Baht (unless you book something), diving does!

My friend Nicole announced yesterday that she’s leaving. She’d applied for a position on a Similans liveaboard at the beginning of the season and they called her up and asked if she’d come out and finish out the season. After that, she may be back. Since she’s about my favorite person at Barakuda I’m totally bummed she’s leaving, while being very happy for her that she gets her dream job for a while.
I keep getting asked if I’m leaving, how long I’m staying, etc. etc. My new stock answer is that I’m not leaving till I’ve seen a whale shark. At this rate, it could be a while.

If we indeed stay put for low season, I’d like to consider moving us to a bungalow that has hot water. Otherwise, no major changes are upon us personally.

On the diving front - we had that sweet spot of incredible conditions before full moon screwed everything up. I had the unforeseen pleasure of going to the wreck with a very good diver. It yielded these pictures taken with the new little point and shoot that I picked up from one of our departing instructors:





















Now that's what I call good viz!

Well, I’m off to have a massage.

Peace out.

Who's Got Fever????

The deadheads would love Phi Phi. I say this as I’m sitting at Sunflower bar watching young men practice twirling firesticks and fireballs attached at the ends of strings – I don’t know what they’re called. But the sight reminds me of Dead show parking lot scenes – tattooed youngsters (and not-so-young-sters) with too-long hair or dreadlocks, needing a shave and a shower, wearing fisherman pants that equally need a wash, firm, tone, youthful bodies – and most certainly under the influence of something illegal (or barely legal). And on Phi Phi, pot is easy to come by. The average age of the average visitor must be 22 and they all look like they just came in for the show.

Perhaps my favorite place to relax when I get the chance is down here at Sunflower. The atmosphere is super chill, the music never makes me want to leave, the view doesn’t suck and they have hammocks and other lounge furnishings. And it seems that it’s always 10 degrees cooler here.

Even at night, when the beach becomes a Rave, Sunflower stays super mellow.
















(See, the view doesn't suck.)

I’ve just had a massage up at the Viewpoint Resort. I popped in on Ryan who’s sat at the shop doing theory with an open water student and surfing CalGuns.

I wrenched my back earlier this week being at the bent-over-receiving-end of a box full of dive gear that was way too heavy. I dove for two more days and then could barely move. So I decided to take it seriously and was recommended to go see the Barefoot Doctor who rubbed red tiger balm-smelling crap all over my back then trod on me and dug his heels into me. All the while hanging from bamboo bars on his ceiling. Then he rolled me over and prodded my belly and told me that the root of all my problems was too much gas. I left 600 bahts lighter and an hour later I had the worse bellyache and my back was stiffer than ever. I was really really disappointed as I earnestly hoped I’d found a real healer. I won’t go so far as to call him a quack, but hell, if it walks and talks, you fill in the rest…

This was Wednesday.

Thursday we went to Phuket to get our stamps in our passports. Four hours on the ferry and a short minibus ride and taxi ride assuredly did not improve my situation. And yesterday I spent all day lying down reading “The Hour I First Believed” by Wally Lamb that Jenny brought me when she visited. I did this for about 10 hours, minus about 1 hour of hanging with Chris up until the barbeque at Barakuda where Carlien once again outdid herself!

As with all Wally Lamb books, it's not the most uplifting story, but boy is it ever the page-turner - I am absolutely loving it.

Which brings me to today’s no-joke approach to getting myself all good to be back in the water for my two French DSDs tomorrow afternoon. Oil massage up at Viewpoint and tonight – light yoga with Keira.

It’s too hot to be on land. I’m fairly certain I’ve said this before, but honest, it’s 35 celsius in the shade, never mind in the sun! I was “thrilled” to hear that this was “unseasonably warm” because I’d heard that April and May are the hottest months. So to hear that this is what it’s normally like in April either means that this is the hottest it gets or that come April we’re screwed! But the heat is unbearable – just imagine the worst summer heat with humidity and no break from it. And all you can do is complain about it. The cold shower thing is a joke – because come mid-day when the sun is at its hottest, it’s had all morning to beat down on the water containers and turn your nice cool shower into a warm shower – the last thing you want. So the only release from the heat is two hours daily submerged beneath the sea.

So I’ve not written for a while you say. It’s been a weird couple of months. I have been prisoner of my own head which is never good and spent a little too much time post the whole Adventure Club mess followed by a small mess of my own completely focused on the negative and making very little effort to change, ergo feeling like I really had nothing to write about. It’s the fight or flight conundrum. Since I’ve decided that I don’t want to be subject to other people’s bullshit anymore, I’m tending more towards the removing myself from situations I don’t like approach which may not always be the best solution.

And honesly, Island Fever is not a joke!

A bright spot in all that crap was Jenny’s week long visit. While both of us worked, it sure was nice to hang out with her, enjoy meals and chats. And I had the privilege to take her diving.

Changes are upon us as we’re shifting from high season back towards low season. While technically we are still well in high season, seasonal locals are starting to leave Phi Phi for their next high season location. The island will start to thin out.

(Aside – I’ve just enjoyed a tuna, cheese and chili toastie on baguette – otherwise known as a tuna melt – and had to pick a couple of the chilies out so I’d actually still be able to breath after finishing it. So now my fingers are covered in chili nematocysts and I’m trying to be careful not to get them near my eyes, but I’ve already rubbed my nose with them a number of times and now my nostrils have this funny tingly sensation.)

Well folks, I’m off to yoga!

It's a New Year Alright!

I’ve started writing this entry a few times now and I just can’t seem to get it quite right to publish it. So I’ll give it one more try and see how it comes out this time. Thus far 2010 has turned Phi Phi from small paradise to brick-wall-hitting-you-in-the-face-crap!

A few nights ago Ryan and I got caught in a heavy downpour as we were going home from dinner. We dashed into one of the local guesthouse’s reception area and waited out the storm. Mon, the manager of the house, bent our ear for about an hour as the rain streamed down in heavy sheets, reminding us that, high season or not, we are indeed in the tropics. Mon showed us a picture of Phi Phi 20 years ago and said to us, “People come here, they say it’s paradise. This isn’t paradise, this is hell.”

New Year’s Eve, we had dinner at 9:00 at La Mamita with Ryan’s work crew. Ryan was tired and somewhat grumpy so he ate and went home. I stayed out for a long while longer, bouncing from Ryan’s work crew to my work crew and at midnight we said our “happy new years” from under the fireworks over Tonsai Bay. It was a stunning display. The party continued after that at the Rolling Stoned Bar where the live cover band entertained and made us dance. No, the name is not a misprint on my part. What I don’t know and can’t seem to get an answer to is whether they were being witty when they named it (as in haha, they were always stoned, let’s call it Rolling Stoned) or whether it’s a simple Thai misprint, which would oh so typical. The evening ended much too late with flying fists between DMs who ordinarily love each other all because of a drama queen divemaster trainee. Shortly after I went home, shaking my head.

January 1st, 2010, Barakuda was closed for the majority of the day – we had no dive boats going out. Ryan and I were scheduled to fun dive together with Adventure Club. We were supposed to do that Christmas Day, but everything had gotten messed up. We had one super nice dive and one mediocre dive, but nonetheless we were both super happy to enjoy some quality underwater time together. It’s been almost 6 months since we’ve been diving – that’s a crazy long time! And, as it turned out, our first dive together, our stunning dive on Bida Nok Deep, my favorite site, just happened to be my 600th dive (fact which I found out 10 days later when I finally got around to downloading my computer).

January 2nd, 2010, all hell breaks loose and this little paradise turns craptacular!
And thus the story begins…

On new year’s day, Dom, one of the DMs at Adventure Club picked up his pay and then quit. He packed his gear and went to leave the shop. Andrew, the owner of Adventure Club, followed him down the street, grabbed his gear bag and turned it inside out in the middle of the street “to make sure Dom wasn’t stealing anything.” Later we come to find it was really a last ditch effort to humiliate him.
Dom and Andrew had their differences, but honestly, Andrew butts heads with anybody who’s got half a brain and doesn’t automatically agree with him.

Apparently Adventure Club has an unwritten (and unspoken) rule that if you quit without giving notice, you forego your last two weeks of pay. I’m still unclear in what world you can work and not get paid, just another reminder that we’re not in Kansas anymore. Andrew believes therefore that Dom stole from him. So, later that night, he puts together a posse and goes hunting for Dom.

Well, later that night, Dom and the rest of the Adventure gang (sans Ryan, of course) are found having drinks at Rolling Stoned. Andrew walks in and grabs Dom and tells him that they need to settle “this” outside. Dom declines so Andrew tries to get the bar to stop serving them drinks, which the bar refuses to do since the gang was causing no trouble. Andrew’s posse looms in the doorways of the bar while Andrew stays in the shadows outside. When the gang left after the bar closed, Andrew and his friends jumped Dom and beat him to a pulp.

The consequences: Adventure Club has exactly one instructor and no divemasters left. Amanda quit the following morning and left the island with Robyn (new divemaster) and Dom. Ryan quit/was fired the following night. Michael quit the evening after that and Tobias gave 10 days notice because he can’t afford to forego any pay. And Jemma, the manager, has given her notice – she’ll be leaving at the end of the month.

Ryan walked into all this shit at 7:00 a.m. the following morning expecting it to be business as usual and be going out for a good day’s diving with his pals. Instead he was treated to Amanda in tears, who then told him what had happened.

Ryan was willing to give Andrew the benefit of the doubt or was even willing to forgive Andrew if he mustered up an “I really fucked up, things got out of hand and I’m very sorry for all of it.” But instead Andrew called together a staff meeting and justified why he was right in what he did. Then he put Ryan on the spot to make a decision right there, and while I think Ryan had already made his decision, that pretty much cinched the deal.

Andrew then left the island the next day and that was a huge relief. I was worried that if he felt that Ryan had antagonized him in any way or determined that if Ryan didn’t give back the last pay he’d received, then he’d stolen money, he might come after Ryan in the same way he went after Dom.

A day later Andrew came back and as far as I can tell has really made no trouble since, except to pretty much make work hell for Jemma who is counting the days over there.

Ryan’s totally bumming . Despite Andrew being a complete psychopath, he had a nice time working at Adventure. He enjoyed his team and had fun with them. And Andrew wasn’t on the island all that much anyways. When the whole “you can’t go on your visa run when you need to go or you’ll be fired” fiasco happened, Ryan fought for that job.

My girlfriends, Amanda and Robyn left the island after coming back for two nights and I was so sad when they left.

As you can imagine, we are absolutely floored by all of this. It’s been a really sad and frustrating start to the new year.

In the meantime, it’s back to longtail diving for Ryan as he’s found a home at Blue View Divers with Cian and Lisa. He’d already scoped out a job there when Andrew had said Ryan was fired if he went on his visa run at the intended time, so 10 days later it wasn’t too difficult to just walk into that job. Cian and Lisa are real nice people and I think that Cian’s wanted Ryan to work there for a while now so it should be a good fit. He’ll probably find that his hours are a bit shorter as Blue View isn’t open until 10:00 every night and they start diving later.

I’m a little frustrated with certain things at Barakuda. While it continues to be a source of good work, some of the idiosyncracies there are incredibly frustrating. When Jemma changes shops, there is a chance that I will leave. Mostly, I’m looking forward to moving on at the end of high season to see what other paradise the seven seas have to offer.

Happy New Year people! My only resolve is to stop using potato chips as a meal.