12 September 2005
Half the fun is getting there
Especially when you are going from one gorgeous, popular (and safe) island to another through violent and separtist south east Thailand. The trip started out quite lovely, on an only slightly overcrowded ferry that was followed closely by frolicking (thats twice I've used that word in this blog) dolphins. The next leg to central Hatyai was also relatively uneventful minus the trunk door opening at 100km/h and dumping everybody's stuff on the road (yay for only taking a little pack). It was about 4pm and it seemed my dream of getting to Malaysia, to the port and catching the 5:30 ferry was a little overreaching. Still, not to admit defeat, I headed for the border town Sungai-Kolok. I hopped from one minibus to the next until I eventually ended up behind an old woman I'm convinced had SARS and between a Thai militiaman in full combat dress and what appeared to be a nice Thai woman. Unfortunately for me, the nice Thai woman thought she could speak English and while she did know the occasional word, she lacked the ability to put them together in any sort of coherent sense. She then proceded to write down and give me the phone numbers of every single person she had ever met (yes, yes, I'll call your friend when I get to uzbehkistan, I promise) and then offered me pecans. But of course, they were not pecans. They were fish snacks, which can best be described as taking the consistency of a cheeto and adding the flavor of spicy disgusting horrible fish. It was the vilest thing I've had in a while (which is funny cause the second vilest thing was this sweet chicken pastry I'd enjoyed not three hours earlier).
Then the police checkpoints started. At first they were unmanned barricades you had to swerve around, esentially glorified speed bumps. Then police and military people, with very large machine guns, began appearing at the checkpoints. Now we were stopping but usually getting waved through with a minimum of fuss. Then the police had surprise checkpoints: no barricades, just a flashing red light wand thingy - very sneaky. Finally, just on the outskirts of the town we were stopped and everyone had to produce ID. The aftermentioned Thai woman looked at me and said "every day, bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb", I thanked her for this reassuring statement. Despite this Gaza like security (or maybe because of), we made it sucessfully into the city.
The driver dropped everybody else off then looked at me and said "you go to Malaysia now". He drove rapidly to the border, it was now 8:50pm. As I got out out of the car I tried to ask what I thought were reasonable questions: is there a place to sleep in Malaysia, should I stay the night in Kolok, is the border open, etc. I've never seen someone get back in their car and drive away so fast, it was as if his life was in danger. So in front of me I have Malaysia, a country I've never been to, can't speak the language, hold no currency and the border town doesn't even warrant an entry in my worthless lonely planet. And behind me I have Thailand's version of Quebec (only they are a bit more forceful / beheading-ish over here) with approximately a battalion worth of Thai storm troopers. This was one of those life shaping decisions. For reasons I'm sure will cost me plenty of psychotheraphy to find out (just kidding mom and dad), though I would bet it was mainly based on frugality, I decided to turn back into Kolok, passed by the guards that stop every vehicle going into downtown and locked myself in a rather shitty hotel room. Except for the fish snack and chicken pastry, I had not eaten since breakfast. The border opened at 5am. I was the first person across it.
Steve "uh uh uh uh stayin alive stayin alive" Gore
Then the police checkpoints started. At first they were unmanned barricades you had to swerve around, esentially glorified speed bumps. Then police and military people, with very large machine guns, began appearing at the checkpoints. Now we were stopping but usually getting waved through with a minimum of fuss. Then the police had surprise checkpoints: no barricades, just a flashing red light wand thingy - very sneaky. Finally, just on the outskirts of the town we were stopped and everyone had to produce ID. The aftermentioned Thai woman looked at me and said "every day, bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb", I thanked her for this reassuring statement. Despite this Gaza like security (or maybe because of), we made it sucessfully into the city.
The driver dropped everybody else off then looked at me and said "you go to Malaysia now". He drove rapidly to the border, it was now 8:50pm. As I got out out of the car I tried to ask what I thought were reasonable questions: is there a place to sleep in Malaysia, should I stay the night in Kolok, is the border open, etc. I've never seen someone get back in their car and drive away so fast, it was as if his life was in danger. So in front of me I have Malaysia, a country I've never been to, can't speak the language, hold no currency and the border town doesn't even warrant an entry in my worthless lonely planet. And behind me I have Thailand's version of Quebec (only they are a bit more forceful / beheading-ish over here) with approximately a battalion worth of Thai storm troopers. This was one of those life shaping decisions. For reasons I'm sure will cost me plenty of psychotheraphy to find out (just kidding mom and dad), though I would bet it was mainly based on frugality, I decided to turn back into Kolok, passed by the guards that stop every vehicle going into downtown and locked myself in a rather shitty hotel room. Except for the fish snack and chicken pastry, I had not eaten since breakfast. The border opened at 5am. I was the first person across it.
Steve "uh uh uh uh stayin alive stayin alive" Gore
