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Hello,
Here is the latest instalment from a cross between Ray Mears without hair and Michael Palin without the sense of humour.
I have made my way steadily to KL. Yes, i'm that assimilated in to the south east asian way of life that I speak the lingo now. It's KL not Kuala Lumpur, m'lad-io. In other ways my metamorphis in to your average south east asian Joe/Ping has moved apace. I have mastered the language (all you need is "hello" and "thank you"), my skin has gone a little orange and I have lost half a stone.
So, here's the world half way upside down. I am now a member of Dive Club. There are two things you must know about Dive Club. Firstly, you must never talk about Dive Club and secondly you must never... . However on pain of nitrogen narcosis (a little private divers joke for you there) I can explain that I took a four day course in Phuket and am now able to swim with the fishes. Phuket otherwise gets a mention for winning the honorary award for imitation of Bangkok's red light district except bizarely the portly old balding gentlemen of choice here is predominantly Scandanavian. I think there must be a part of Thailand to cater for every nationality.
After Phuket comes the island of Ko Phi Phi. Phi Phi is the kind of place you will find referenced in the dictionary under "tropical beach island paradise". Sometimes I thought that the are words known only to as unyet discovered tribes in the Amazon rainforest for how beautiful Phi Phi can be. It is a small island formed of two large hills linked by a wafer thin stretch of flat land with a village and lined by back to golden arches of sun baked sand that slide in to turquoise seas. All surrounded by jungled hills and cliffs. The island, however, is not all it seems. The Tsunami hit it very badly, simply sweeping on to one beach and with free license it removed anything in its path and exiting at the other beach. Barron scrubland all over Phi Phi village is a marker.
Phi Phi is also a backpackers party island fomed of beaches and bars. Faced with this classical dilema between worshiping nature or alcohol I did the only sensible thing: I spent a week toxicating my body. The weapon of choice is the Bucket, a mixture of Thailands own Samsong whisky at 80% proof and Red Bull (illegal in the west because it contains anphetamines). Happy days. Lessons of life I learned include that it is a good thing to take midnight swims in the sea with young ladies...but not with your camera in your pocket. And that I cannot be a fire thrower because I have no natural sense of co-ordination - SURPIRSE!
Realising that my body was becoming overly attached to Red Bull I fled to the isolated beaches around Krabi. The life of riley became a fiction made fact. There is more to describe except perhaps all you need to know before deleting me from your contacts list is that for three weeks the average daily high has been between 34 and 36 degrees. I took this picture postcard worshiping to its logical extreme by staying on a small isolated island called Ko Bulon Lae. Push the "extreme" too far and I discovered that you are trapped with no one for comapany except middle aged Germans with bad BO.
I shuffled off southwards over the border and in to Malaysia to stay in the Malay jungle. Knowing that I had already defeated cockroaches and leaches the Malaysians had very kindly removed the jungle from the mountains and covered them in tea vinyards and strawberry fields. In addition they have called this area the Cameron Highlands. They have stopped short however at the Braveheart theme park and photos with a cardboard cut out of Mel Gibson.
If you think I am enjoying this too much then here is my "5 things about Thailand I will not miss"
1). Open sewers.
2). A country that worships Banannas and Coconuts
3). The film "The Beach" shown in bars. In some places it appears to be the only sign of western civilisation that is visible. Please note the irony.
4). Stray dogs (I have developed a pathological deep dislike for the theme music from the LIttlest Hobo)
5). Hustlers and touts on every street who stop you. All I really wanted to say was..."No, I don't want a suit. I don't want a massage. And I don't want a #$?*;%! tuk-tuk. Thank you".
So, new photos on the site at www.statraveljournals.com/mrpaulmullens in a folder called "Phuket to Malaysia" with my best attempts at things I couldn't write here such as being attacked by monkies.
For the ladies there are a gratuitous number of sunset shots. For the gentlemen go to picture numbers 16 and 17.
And on that solar bombshell,
Paul.
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