The Sanctuary, Detox and all that.

I expected to meet some odd people on an island devoted to meditation, yoga and wellness.  I was not disappointed. In the Wellness Centre where we were the people were generally pretty normal, especially our little team of six (self included?). 

Sue Bellingham, now the exalted Lady Captain at AVGC, has chided Bev for not being descriptive enough of the Clonic Hydrotherapy. If she expected a photo, of me starkers gradually feeding five gallons of coffee into my bum, hard luck!  Susie I promise it was more gross than you could imagine and there was no else to blame for the stench. And to cap it all I had to dig through the day’s produce to identify solid entities by shape and colour (rubber glove supplied) and report the results to the team at our evening gathering.  Good luck and success Sue and I hope you don’t need rubber gloves too often during your year.

Philosophically it was rather like a service on a car.  The sump has been drained of old and tainted lubricant, the filters all replaced and a new and viscose agent now revolves round the system.  The cooling system has been flushed. The bodywork, including chassis, has been steam cleaned and rubbed and polished to a new shine to (steam room and massage). The interior is now almost like new.  It has not changed the milometer reading but the old banger should run better for the next ten thousand miles.  I would however complain at the expense and that it took five days to service my car.

To continue the car simile I guess the head could be equated to the engine  computer control this was the domain of the meditation and yoga mechanics.  That part of the Sanctuary was filled by a group of ageing hippies and younger oddities who spoke in awed and breathy voices in their search for something.  To assist them were another group of highly trained instructors and gurus generally wearing sarongs and too much jewellery  who advertised via flyers – Shamanic Healing involving techniques of ecstasy to connect with mother earth and the cosmos through toltelic magic.  – A Kundalini awakening process to release stress and physical and sexual trauma – Zen Shiatsu from Japan to bring lasting changes to the physical, psychological and subtle aspects of life. – Structural Integration aka Rolfing to realign the fascia breathing, definement, past life channelling and rebirthing. Some courses were a week, some a month and varied between £90 and £500 pounds, they were often over subscribed.  Bev and I were too busy to take up these kind offers. 

 In fairness there were some fairly grounded people enjoying meditation and yoga. Volker was a charming and gentle German guy who took up meditation eight years ago and now teaches yoga.  He was kind enough to talk openly and clearly about his life and the effect of his practices on his life decisions. He is a highly qualified chemist and holds a senior post in IT product management. He approaches it all as a scientist and accepts those parts that he cannot explain but is sure are so. He made think I may try something of this in the future.  But at the moment I would rather have a full bottle in front of me than a full frontal lobotomy.

When in mini-bus Bev remarked that we both had to duck our heads to see out of the window. We wondered if this Toyota bus had been made for the Asian market and were ones for the western world slightly larger.  We thought that one of Bev’s brothers would be bound to know the answer so come on lads who will be first with an answer.

Heidi please note that the 23^rd (James Bond Island) was a NO hat day!  Either I am getting smarter or Bev is slowing down. Got to enjoy small victories -  they are all I get.

Bev mentioned that she  felt much better after the fast, so do I.  More energy and the weight loss helps my knees.  I am a covert.

The object of travel is not to set foot in foreign lands, it is in fact to set foot in ones own country as a foreign land.. 

24^th March – An ancient minibus picked us up at our hotel around 7am and we set off towards Pak Barra, the staging post for people going to islands in the Koh Tarutao Marine National Park in the south of Thailand. Partway through the journey we had to swap to another minibus that was even more decrepit than the one before and we found ourselves in the company of four very vocal French-speaking folks. I gathered enough from their conversation to work out that they had been on a diving holiday somewhere in Sumatra. Then I thought I picked up ‘Koh Lipe’, our intended destination – this was getting interesting, as we had sent an email to the Forra Diving resort on that island to see if we could book accommodation and diving, and had had no reply, but decided to go anyway.

As we got closer to Pak Barra, the most hyperactive and vocal of the four, the man sitting beside Alan, told the others to go ahead on the speedboat as he had to go to Tesco to buy supplies. By now I was on the edge of my seat – supplies for what? Did he have a restaurant, or were they just renting somewhere? Just as I was about to say to Alan that we should ask their advice on where to stay on the island, aforementioned Frenchman turned to us and asked where we were going. We said Koh Lipe, he said that he owned a resort on the island and, yes, you’ve guessed it by now – he was the owner of Forra Diving and he rang ahead to book a bungalow for us!

We caught the speedboat that took around an hour and a half to reach Koh Lipe, passing lovely islands encased by golden sands and turquoise shallows. The speedboat arrives at a floating dock around the size of a badminton court and with no railings or any other nod to health and safety. People, bags and provisions for the island are spewed out on this rusty construction of box sections topped by steel plate until, eventually, they are all collected and dispersed to their various destinations by long tail boat.

Koh Lipe turned out to be exceptionally beautiful, and the beach that was home to Forra Resort is said by some guide books to have the best view in Thailand. Our flower-covered bamboo bungalow was deep in a wild garden. It was an interesting arrangement that required a clamber up a very uncomfortable bamboo ladder to the sleeping level. The bathroom required a clamber down another bamboo ladder, not the best thing in the middle of the night – but it did afford the opportunity to check out the stars as the shower half of the room was open to the sky. We had shed our flip-flops on the beach and were not to wear shoes again for the next four days.

The term ‘laid-back’ is used a lot to describe South East Asian resorts. For ‘laid-back’, read anything from inefficient to unhygienic and back again. This place ticked every box betwixt and including the two. We asked for fresh watermelon juice. Sorry, no watermelon. Orange juice? “No, sarree.” Gin and tonic? (to soothe the frustration, you understand). Sorry, no gin. So we decided just to have water and order some food. Papaya salad? Sorry, no papaya. No papaya! This is a tropical island we’re on, we were probably sitting no more than fifty feet from a tree growing the wretched fruit, but they were telling me, no papaya. I settled for Pad Thai, which is like asking a Scotsman for porridge, or an Irishman for potatoes, and thankfully got lucky. Alan chose a similar safe bet in green curry.

25^th March – Today we had two dives off the day boat that goes out to sites fairly close to the island. We didn’t see anything spectacular, but enjoyed it so much we decided to go on the live-aboard for the next two days, which will allow us to go to more challenging and perhaps interesting sites. This evening we played safe, went to another place for dinner, and I had my longed-for papaya salad together with some excellent grilled fish in tamarind sauce.

26^th March – We had been told to be in the restaurant by 8am to leave for the live-aboard boat. So we turned up just before 7:30am so that we could have some breakfast before leaving. Not a hope. We were the only people in sight apart from an elderly Thai couple sweeping the floor and laying out the somewhat grubby cushions for another day of abuse by cats, sweaty rear ends and sun cream. Eventually some other divers showed up, clearly more attuned to the pace of the place. The restaurant staff eventually turned up sometime just after 8am, the dead lice dropping off them. For anyone who doesn’t understand this expression, it is an Irish saying that implies there was not enough blood circulating to keep even a louse alive.

The lady boy of Amazonian proportions, who seemed to be the head chef, provided the only detectable signs of motion in the whole place, whirling like a dervish in his tiny working space. Oh, apart from Antoine, the owner, who appears to do everything when he is there, which is probably why we didn’t get a response to our email as he happened to be on holiday at the time.

We did manage to have some breakfast, as we didn’t start loading the long-tail boat until after 9am, after which we made the short trip out into the bay to board the larger boat. My dive log shows that we got into the water for our first dive at 11:51, out at 8 Mile Rock, a challenging site that saw us go down to 40.1 metres, my first dive to that depth. The current was a bit of a trial, but we did see a couple of really large lion fish and a monster grouper.

The day saw me go on to clock up another couple of firsts: my first sighting of seahorses, quite large and a beautiful pale violet, plus my first night dive, which I loved to bits. I didn’t realise that fish go to sleep. Some of them even find a handy rock and lean against this as they dream their little fishy dreams. Kris, the dive master who accompanied Alan and me, was able to pick one up gently and stoke its side. He put it down again beside its rock and it carried on sleeping.

27^th March – There were supposed to be three dives today, starting with a deep dive on a wreck, but the site couldn’t be found as the fishermen had cut the buoy line. This happens regularly and is in retaliation for divers who think they are ‘saving the world’ by letting catches out of creels or, worse still, stealing lobsters and crabs from them. The second site was around an island that had a cube of rock balanced on top of another cube, looking for all the world as if some giant had placed it there. Our final dive was really different, and again a first for me – we did a drift dive. My family (and some members of Alan’s) will understand what the site was like if I say it was like being at the mouth of Strangford Lough as the tide goes out. It was a patchwork of choppy waves, whirlpools, eddies and sinister smooth water.

We had to wait for the tide to slacken slightly before going in, but were amazed to see a long-tail turn up with a load of Thai holiday makers kitted out with life vests, masks and snorkels. The boatman threw out a line and into the water the snorkelers went, holding on to this line for grim death. Soon they were swept to the full extent of the line and some were clearly distressed, shouting for the boatman to come and get them as they did not have the strength to pull themselves back along the rope to the boat.

When we jumped in, we had a rope, too, and had to make sure we caught hold of it pretty quickly to avoid being swept away. Then we dragged ourselves along to the mooring line and held on to this as we manoeuvred hand over hand to the bottom. Once there, Kris did a three-two-one countdown on his fingers and we let go. Wha- hay! It was brilliant. We were swept along with no effort, just breathing in now and then to float up over rocks or elegant fans of coral. The experience made me feel like waltzing to the ‘Blue Danube’ and soon we were all striking silly poses as we motored along. Eventually the tide spat us out beyond the small island that helped create it and we back-tracked in its lee to have a look at the wildlife. When we surfaced, there, wheeling over us, were two eagles. On the island, a monkey took one look at us and scurried away. Alan wants to write these sightings in his dive log along with the puffer fish and groupers! What a great way to end our diving in the Koh Tarutao National Park.

 A long-tail made the lengthy journey out to pick us up and bring us back to Koh Lipe, leaving others to carry on right up to Koh Pi Pi on the live-aboard. Alan, of course, had to have a go at this long-tail driving on the way back and soon discovered it was not as easy as these boatmen make it look. Kris, our dive master and the one with the beard in the photos, had a go, as did a German chap. They agreed with Alan that it is much harder than it looks, requiring a lot of strength. Still, it gave the rest of us a laugh!

Back at our resort, we decided to celebrate with a watermelon shake. In the end we settled for banana. But you know, for all the ‘laid-back-ness’ of the resort, the diving was very good and everyone achieved their objectives, except for the wreck, which the fishermen put paid to. We have had a wonderful time and I will never forget the diving firsts that I have enjoyed here.

Tomorrow we will set off for Penang in Malaysia, intending not to stay there for very long, but to pass on through to Indonesia following a bit of a rest up and some laundering.

Photos

21^st March – There are only two ways out of The Sanctuary: by boat or by taxi truck, the latter a 4x4 with a small cab and an open back with bench seats. Vindi had gone into Haad Rin one day by this means and had returned full of stories about the exciting journey. Having arrived by boat, we decided we just had to experience the taxi truck and booked up with Lee, the driver du jour, for the 4pm departure. As we waved Vindi and Sheena off in the 1pm truck, our confidence was not raised by Lee reversing into a tree.

We whiled away the last few hours in the restaurant, just watching the sea, drinking herb tea, and trying to ignore the idiots, who were all telling each other “You’ve really changed my life, I love you’, blah, blah, blah – and all this emotion generated probably just in the space of a week. Moon has helped us lose weight and probably given our bodies a bit of a rest, but I don’t ‘love’ the man, or even expect to see him again.

We were Lee’s only customers, thankfully, so we got to sit inside the cab – apparently Vindi’s arms were just about pulled out of their sockets sitting on the bench seat in the back. You have to understand that The Sanctuary is built in a remote bay, separated from the towns of the island by high hills. The track we followed made no attempt to follow contours, it went straight up and over the top. At times it seemed like we had strayed into an off-roading event, or on to Landrover’s test track, but the hairy ups and downs and ruts and bumps were all worth it when we reached the top and looked down, as if from an aircraft, at the sea so blue and the distant islands with their yellow beaches. The road descended as steeply as it had risen through the dense jungle.

On the way, Lee showed us the considerable area of land that he owned on the side of the hill and pointed out a house that is already being built on it. From the questions he asked us, I think he had us down as possible purchasers. At a price of around £20,000 with a view to die for, who wouldn’t be tempted? I would not and I’ll leave it to Lee to explain why not. He and Alan were chatting away in the front of the truck and, as usual, the topic of family came up. His question to Alan was not “How many children do you have?” but “How many sons do you have?” Enough said.

We had several hours to while away in the fleshpots of Haad Rin. I parked myself in a wireless internet place while Alan went to exchange some books. My choice of location was very poor, bearing in mind that, today, we are supposed to eat fruit only or maybe a little salad. Directly opposite was a stall selling grilled chicken and all sorts of delights. I couldn’t take my eyes off the chicken. Somehow the fasting was easy when we were in the right environment. Now it seems more difficult. When Alan returned we consoled ourselves by sharing a very good salad.

Our night boat was the usual arrangement of thin mattresses laid out side by side. We were both really tired and the boat had barely got under way before I fell fast asleep with the gentle sway and plunge.

22^nd March - I only awoke once or twice to turn over and go back to sleep again before we were in the river near Surat Thani. Songthaew drivers were waiting on the docks to take us to our respective travel agencies in the town and we found ourselves the only ones in our vehicle. Our driver dumped us unceremoniously outside a closed office in a dark street at about 5am. He had the grace to ring the girl who runs the office and, about 20 minutes later, she appeared down the stairs at the back of the shop and let us in so that we didn’t have to continue sitting on the pavement.

The bus from Surat Thani to Krabi took only a few hours, leaving at 6:30am. As we drove into the town, we could see the limestone karsts in the background, which make the islands around here so dramatic. A wide river runs through to the sea, which takes around half an hour to reach by long-tail boat. We were delighted to find that the guesthouse we had selected from the small number listed in the guidebook was a little gem – a beautifully clean room with more of the polished concrete I have praised before, this time tinted aquamarine for the floor. The thoughtfully decorated bathroom featured an outdoor shower and I was soon enjoying the feeling of getting clean under the gentle morning sun. In the restaurant there are sweet little tables decorated with pictures and words.

Krabi may be a hint of things to come as we head further south and into Malaysia and Indonesia. There are fewer signs in English and a lack of western-style restaurants. Before you all cry, “Shame, shame”, I don’t mean restaurants with western food, I simply mean restaurants with nice tables and chairs and some effort at pleasing decor, rather than the style used by local establishments which is all about plastic chairs, Formica-topped tables with a plastic basket of congealing condiments on each, strip lighting, bare (not polished!) concrete, and fuse boxes with broken covers and dangling wires.

There are also fewer internet cafes and no wireless internet facilities that I have found as yet, so my blogging may be a little more sporadic over the days and weeks to come, but we shall see. To be fair, we did then find some nice little spots with suitably healthy drinks and salads for our coming-down-from-fasting period.

Tomorrow we have booked to go and visit some of that karst scenery I referred to above, including Koh Tapoo, the island made famous in “The Man with the Golden Gun”.

23^rd – We found ourselves in a minibus with the usual mix of French, German and Swedish folks, but with a couple of Belgians thrown in for good measure. Our perky little tour guide, Demi, advised us that we would be on the bus for an hour and a half’s ride to catch our boat. We settled back and watched the lovely landscape of rubber and palm oil plantations and vast limestone cliffs go by. The area is also noted for its rock climbing.

On board our boat, the first destination was Koh Tapoo, the ‘James Bond island’. Our expert boatman managed to manoeuvre us into a sliver of space between the many boats already landed, then we walked the 100 yards or so to the beach – the whole island can be ‘done’ in minutes, it is so small. Following the path around the cliff towards the beach, we met hoards of people returning. We stood back several times to let people pass and, sadly, seldom got acknowledgement for it. At one point Alan stopped to let some people through who had been waiting at a narrow gap and three people behind him just pushed past, oblivious to their bad manners. Alan remarked, “I’m sure James Bond never had this problem”.

Next we were taken sea kayaking by a charming young Thai man named Chai, who wanted to be our son (bet he says that to all the tourists of a certain age). He paddled us into caves where we had to lie back, the ceilings were so low. We entered a big hole in the middle of one of the limestone karsts and he waited until some very noisy Eastern Europeans had left (that Gorby again!) so that, for a few precious moments, we had this beautiful hideaway to ourselves. He pointed out strange shapes in the rocks and took us past mangroves. Although we were surrounded by other kayaks with tourists, it was a lovely little jaunt.

On the way to lunch at a floating village we saw two magnificent eagles soaring above us. As we walked from the landing stage across a very wobbly floating pier, we could see hoards of little pipe fish at the surface of the water below. The village came to be two hundred years ago when three families came here from Indonesia – we didn’t find out why. Now there are over three hundred families living in the floating village and they have a school and a mosque (all the residents are Muslim). Sadly the interesting history of the floating village is taken away from by the fact that it is a tourist trap with loads of stalls selling the same old tat plus seashells defaced with daubing.

Back at our minibus, we were taken to a ‘monkey temple’, where the little tinkers are allowed to run riot. Although the temple itself was interesting, being in a large cave and housing a very magnificent reclining Buddha, the monkeys managed to steal the show and most of our group spent their allotted time outside feeding the babies and taking photos. I took just one or two – well, lots actually, but had to delete most in fairness to anyone who bothers to click on the ‘Photos’ link at the end! One poor little mite had a leg that had been broken at some time and it now sticks out at an odd angle when it sits.

Our little day trip ended with a visit to a waterfall and swimming pool, both of which look a little sad and depleted at this time of year. Although we were easily the ‘oldies’ on our bus, Alan and I were the only two to go in for a swim. The water was very mucky having been stirred up by the Thai family already there and the young German girls especially turned their noses up. I did too, but if Alan was going in, I certainly wasn’t going to stand and hold his shorts.

A good day out, we got home at around 6pm in time for a shower, packing and a bit of blogging before going out for supper. Tonight we may risk some cooked vegetables! Mind you, we had to break the rules at lunchtime as it was a set meal, but thankfully lots of veg. Alan and I are now firm believers in fasting and in managing the types of foods you eat with others, and when. For weeks and weeks we have been feeling so tired and sluggish after breakfast that we have just felt like going back to bed sometimes. We put this down to the heat, but now believe it may be to do with eating carbs first thing (toast and jam mostly). Time will tell, but we are starting to feel like absolute fans of fasting and the first thing I shall be buying on my return to England will be a juicer!

Photos

18^th March – Yesterday evening we had a home visit from Roger the hornbill. He landed on the balcony and had a look around before deciding to steal Alan’s swimming trunks off the washing line. I held my shiny camera out to him and he chomped on it, giving me time to rescue the trunks. Then he hung about for a while just preening and chatting. Sadly Alan couldn’t come to see him as he was on a colonic board at the time.

At dinner the topic of conversation was one that is normally avoided while eating, but we were just drinking the same watery green fluid as before, so if we hadn’t been put off already it’s unlikely that a bit of colonics conversation would make a difference. Two of our readers have requested all the gory details, so I’m going to give you just enough to satisfy your curiosity, Trudy and Anne v A. Everyone else, be warned!

I’m getting the same dog food sort of stuff issuing each time – you know the dried stuff, after the water has been added, and it is for some reason coloured brown, green, yellow, and salmon pink? I believe this is just a combination of all the herb tablets and drinks we are taking, all bound together by the psyllium husk, which takes on a glue-like quality when mixed with liquid. However, one of our team was able to show us a picture in one of the reference books of what she passed, and it looked for all the world like the shed skin of a snake – apparently this is the ‘plaque’ that builds up in the intestines over time. We agreed to have a team photo call with one of the colonic boards tomorrow, and Moon.

During the night there was a tremendous thunderstorm and loads of rain. The sea was even rougher today than yesterday and all the boat taxis appear to have been grounded.

I am finding this so-called ‘Sanctuary’ quite a stressful place to be. First the alarm clock goes off at seven, I make our first shakes of the day, leaving an awkward hour and a half before Pilates and it’s not as if I can fill the time with some light housework. When I get to the Pilates hut, I have to remember to take six herbal capsules just before the class starts. The end of the class sees us all lying like squashed bugs, legs and arms akimbo, while the teacher tells us in a soft voice to let our thoughts drift away like little clouds. I lie there thinking things like, “I wonder if she can see up my shorts from that angle”, or, “I hope I don’t suddenly get the urge to pass a snakeskin while I’m up here, there’s nowhere to go”.  And the class overruns every day, leaving me late for my 10am shake at the wellness centre. Today I had added stress, as Alan and I were booked in at a little hut at the end of the beach for a massage at 10:30am. I’m sure you understand the pressure I’m under and I have your sympathy, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.

Such are the simple pleasures of life here, we rushed to the beach to watch some of the staff launching the inflatable boat they use for supply runs. Today there was every reason to watch, as it was a precarious business. The waves being forced into the narrow bay were very fierce indeed and some good teamwork was needed. We silently wished them well as they powered out into the surf, hanging on as the boat stood on its tail. The photos don’t do justice to this sea today – the same one Alan went swimming in! I zipped my lip so tightly when he said he was going for a swim, as I know I sometimes act like a nervous, first-time mother around him. He came back safely, but with some oil on his foot, which immediately took my attention as I didn’t want it walked into our bungalow.

My colonics session today was interesting. If I had been wearing any at the time, you could have said I had ants in my pants, quite literally. I had just started my session when I felt this stinging sensation around the region in question. I reached down and brushed away what I thought was just a grain of sand causing friction. When this grain was replaced by another, then another and another, I realised there was trouble at t’ mill. Looking down, I could see that I was under attack from a small army of tiny ants. We have previous experience of these little wretches and they leave marks and a feeling like nettle rash. Very unpleasant, but as I was so close to the end of my bucket of coffee I decided to soldier on, fighting them off with one hand whilst controlling the flow with the other.

As to my output, it was the same old, same old. But Alan – from a very poor show on days one and two, he is now passing what he describes as pieces of squashed garden hose. Maybe I need to do what he did and don the rubber glove provided to examine the matter in more detail.

One of the changes I have noticed is that our bodies are cooler since we started the fast. Normally we both wake up sweating, probably because our bodies are still trying to process the heavy meal that we have eaten late on, often with a glass of wine or two.

At dinner last night Erin, who leads Gap tours around South East Asia and is knowledgeable about local customs and lore, had told us that it is lucky to hear a gecko calling seven times. Tonight everyone was reporting back on their particular gecko counts. Our big guy seems to pump out the sevens on a regular basis. The call starts with a little wind-up noise like a motor starting, a sort of “putt-putt-putt” sound. Then they do the “gec-ko” call, finally rounding it off with an “awwwwwww”, like the motor running down. Mind you, we are all cursing Erin for telling us about this lucky seven thing – sometimes people take on a far-away look mid-conversation, then you realise they are trying to talk and count gecko calls at the same time. I have found myself reading the same paragraph four times having been distracted from my book by them. And when we go to bed, we are counting gecko calls instead of sheep.

19^th March – Today I couldn’t wait to finish my Pilates and down my 10am shake as the next thing in my hectic schedule was a Detoxifying Delight at the spa here in The Sanctuary. I thought it might be good from the description in the menu of treatments: Thai massage followed by a Bali body scrub and yoghurt body wrap, finishing with a facial. Sometimes these luxuries are ‘bigged up’ in the marketing and fall down in the delivery department, but on this occasion the opposite was true. The Thai massage was gentle, even though some of the stretches involved the lady pushing against parts of my body with her feet while pulling in the opposite direction with her hands. The body scrub seemed like a rough oatmeal mixture that smelled beautifully of cinnamon and cloves. Immediately I could feel it warming my body. Once it had been applied all over I was wrapped up from neck to toe. This intensified the warmth, which managed to be pleasant rather than oppressive. The heat was offset by the application of chilled cucumber slices all over my face, even over my lips, which was a cruel thing to do to someone on a fast! Then the lady gave me a lovely foot massage as I lay there so nearly dozing off, with just the sound of the sea in the background.

Next I was unwrapped and coated in yoghurt. What now covered my body was so like the breakfast we both now enjoy, that I felt quite nostalgic. After a shower I had peppermint body lotion rubbed in. Finally the facial, which was a treat for all the senses and involved several steps, another foot massage, and a shoulder massage. Bliss! I stayed chilled out for the whole day. It’s going to cost Alan a packet if he wants a peaceful life :o)

Alan had a much more simple Swedish massage and later sweated out the oil in the steam room. He decided to go first for colonics just after our 4am shake. When the first one is finished, a member of staff comes along and sets up for the second – we are staying in a fasting bungalow, so our bathroom is designed specially for colonics (it features in the photograph of Moon and our team). Once again Alan passed some garden hose-like material, but more this time. For me, colonics is settling into a pattern of same, same, no different, except for the external influences. Yesterday, ants. Today, as I lay there staring up at the rough job they did of putting a Perspex skylight in the grass roof, a coconut bounced off it with a massive bang, sending dust and pieces of grass down on top of me. It had fallen about 60 feet from an adjacent tree. Thankfully I am so chilled at the minute that I just thought, “wow”, whereas before I would have been off the bench and out the door before you could say “you’ve got no clothes on”.

As it was, I had to finish up more quickly than desired as the fogging man was coming. Not a euphemism as you might think, but a man with a machine that blows out a fog of smoke to keep the mosquitoes under control. In fact, the machine started up nearby just as the coconut hit and shortly afterwards I could smell the chemicals drifting through. Alan tapped on the door and told me that he would be starting in our area in 10 minutes, so I knocked back the last of the coffee, had a quick tidy up and a shower and out the door to join everyone else on the beach and out of harm’s way.

Erin left our little group today as she has to get back for work and it was sad not to have her little pot of tablets and shake mix doled out with ours at supper time. We drank a toast to the team in wheatgrass shots and followed it up with a stevia tea chaser.

20^th March – Our last day of cleansing here at The Sanctuary. We haven’t turned Buddhist, smoked pot, got a tattoo, shaken with a shaman, or even made it to a meditation class. For both of us the whole fasting and cleansing process has been remarkably easy. I had been dreading it, as I thought I would be longing for food all the time, however, the regime keeps us busy and not feeling too hungry. I have not had any cravings, but several of us have dreamt about food. My dreams have featured, in separate episodes, a Victoria sponge, then scrambled egg with smoked haddock (I know it’s usually salmon, but my dream was very specific).

We don’t feel energised and apparently we will feel even more tired when we first start eating solid food again, as the body will be burning up the calories simply to digest it. On the positive side, we have both lost weight – how much, we’ll let you know later when we’ve had our final weigh-in. And it can’t have been bad giving our bodies a rest from all the fats and sugars and chemicals in processed food. Hopefully the desire to live a healthier lifestyle will stay with us for a reasonable length of time but, knowing us two, I wouldn’t bet on it. Mind you, for the next week we have to watch what we eat, starting by just having fruit tomorrow, maybe some vegetables later on. Carbohydrates are a no-no for the next 3 days and then they should only be in the form of brown rice or sweet potato for several days.

This final day will feature the usual routine. There was no Pilates for me today, however, due to the all-night rave that goes on here each Friday night. Everyone is issued with earplugs, but you can still hear the trance music beating through the pillow. We did manage to get a good night’s sleep, however, and after our shake at seven and pills at half past eight we went for a walk through the jungle to find the rave and saw several people still up there giving it large on the dance floor. We didn’t join them, but continued on for a stroll. I took photos of some coconuts that had been decorated with ‘words of wisdom’ by some people who were clearly on something stronger than clay and psyllium shakes.

There was a big blow to morale when we learned that we have another shake to endure tomorrow morning, and a final colonic featuring wheatgrass juice instead of coffee. Can’t wait! Then packing once more. Tomorrow we will have our first solid food at breakfast time. The great moment will be shared by all of the remaining team, but poor Lucy, who is doing another two days of fasting, will have to sit there with a herb tea or a glass of water. She’s tough, she’ll do it.

Alan and I have decided to catch the four-wheel-drive taxi back to Haad Rin. This is supposed to be really exciting, with ups and downs like a roller coaster. At 8:30 in the evening, all being well, we will catch one of those cosy night boats back to Surat Thani on the mainland, then a coach to Krabi for a short period of rest before moving on again.

21^st March – We had our final shake of psyllium only, and our final colonic. I attended my last Pilates class and we booked out of our little bungalow. By doing the fasting regime we have been based in the wellness centre and have avoided the main restaurant. This has sheltered us from the major league pillocks, although we have seen them on the beach and passed them walking around the area. But this morning we had to break our fast with fruit in the restaurant. Having waited so long for this moment, I found it almost spoiled by their loud, silly voices and their pseudo-hippy-talk and their kissing on the lips of anyone and everyone and the sheer shallowness of it all. There is one ageing specimen who seems to think his laugh is a gift to the world. Thankfully our little team (less Erin) was together and Lucy was good enough to join us even though she will not be breaking her fast for another two days.

We had our final weigh-in today. Alan and Vindi lost five kilograms (11 pounds), Sheena lost something just a little bit less, but still good. Guess who the winner was? ME!!! I lost five and a half kilos, around 12 pounds. I have smashed that 12 stone target that has been eluding me for years. And Alan has beaten the 12 and a half stone target that he has been working towards. Of course our bottom line weight loss is a combination of the weight we had already lost while travelling as well as the fast. For the next few days we have to restrict our diet, gradually reintroducing vegetables on Day 2, cooked vegetables on Day 3, carbs on Day 4 and finally protein on Day 5.

It was sad to say goodbye to the others. We waved Sheena and Vindi off on the 1pm taxi truck and Lucy to her massage and settled down to pass the time until we catch the taxi truck ourselves at 4pm. Who knows, we may see Lucy in Bali as she is due to be there in May, when we are likely to have made it that far down through Indonesia.

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16^th March – Yesterday evening our small team of fasters gathered. Erin from USA, Sheena and Vindi from London, and Lucy from Bangor, Co Down. And us, of course. There was one no-show. We had a briefing from the enthusiastic and totally engaging Moon, who is just 35 years old but a veteran of fasting and colonics. I have awarded one big brownie point for the fact that he, and all the literature, make sure everyone is aware this is not a medical facility and he is not a doctor, unlike that awful woman on television in the UK.

Our daily programme for the next five days will go as follows:

7:00am – psyllium/clay shake (this we make up ourselves in our room using water, a little bag of bentenite (?) clay, and another little bag of psyllium). This isn’t as bad as you might think, it doesn’t really taste of anything and you can knock it back quickly.

8:30am – herbs (six capsules)

10:00am - psyllium/clay shake

11:30am – herbs

1:00pm - psyllium/clay shake

2:30pm – herbs

2:50pm – lymph flush (quite a pleasant drink made with carrot and beetroot juice, ginger, and other bits and pieces).

4:00pm - psyllium/clay shake

4 – 6:00pm – colonic

5:30pm – herbs

5:50pm – fresh juice

7:00pm – veggie broth

8:30pm – herbs

9:30pm – probiotic

So it’s quite a full programme. I attended a Pilates class at 8:30am, which I managed to fit in because we are allowed to take the tablets away with us. It’s only the liquids we have to go to the wellness centre to receive, except for the first shake of the day, of course. The Pilates was very demanding indeed – if anyone out there thinks it is for wimps, I dare you to try a class! I may later attempt the impossible by adding an hour and a half of yoga at 4:30pm, providing I can fit it in around the colonic.

As fasters, we also get a free daily steam room session, so Alan and I gave it a go today. It’s supposed to be good for you, but the only benefit I noticed was that the heat outdoors didn’t seem quite as unbearable as before.

Apart from this, it’s hard to work out a programme that allows us to do anything but lie in a hammock and read. Oh, dear! We are having fun watching the posers and fakes, with slightly weird clothes, kids that are allowed to run riot, or that have names like Daisy. Which I happen to think is a charming name, but somehow should be off-limits to a certain type of parent. We have also enjoyed meeting some of the indigenous beasties of our little piece of jungle. For example, last night after we had put the light out and settled down to sleep, there was a tremendously loud banging on the wall of our bungalow. We couldn’t work out what it could be, as it came from high up near the eaves. When it happened a couple more times I decided to investigate with a torch. There, looking straight down at me from the gable wall, was the biggest gecko I have ever seen, just sitting there with his mouth open looking for all the world like a small alligator. He must have been slapping his tail from side to side to make the banging we heard.

Today we met the lovely Roger, a massive hornbill who apparently loves papaya and shuffling up beside people on the beach. Alan got some great photos of him.

Later, Moon gave us a demonstration (only simulated, of course!) of how to do colonics. I’m sure you could do this at home if you wanted. Just pour yourself a bucket of very weak, barely warm coffee (organic), hang it from the ceiling, stand on your head and pour it in the opposite end from the one you use in Starbucks. Simples! Well, it’s not really like that, but if you don’t know how it’s done, you probably don’t want to know anyway, so I will leave it at that.

After the demo our little team dispersed to our various bathrooms to carry out our colonics. It is a slightly uncomfortable sensation in the lower abdomen, but other than that no problem. Alan had a very poor show indeed, but I discovered that I have (or had) lots of technicolour insides! Actually, with my sceptical head on, I think this was just the end product of all the clay and herbs and stuff we have been putting inside us, but we are supposed to believe this is ‘colonic plaque’ that we are getting rid of. I should really have Googled all this stuff, maybe I will, just to see what the British Medical Journal has to say about it all. It was fun getting back together with the team afterwards to compare notes.

Seven in the evening is vegetable broth time. Well, I don’t know where they went to find such tasteless vegetables, and it was as thin as dishwater. Thankfully there were plates of lime and chilli to add a bit of extra flavour. We all drank lots of this vile stuff, however, as it was our only ‘meal’ of the day. Combined with the loads of water we have to drink, this wretched mixture kept me up and down all night – not good when your bathroom is down some very steep and deep steps that are coated with sharp gravel for grip.

17^th March – A Happy St Patrick’s Day to one and all! We woke up to our second day of fasting, the alarm going off at 7am for our first clay shake of the day. Yum. An hour and a half later I was in Pilates class, Lucy from Bangor came too. It is such hard work, I would cry for myself, except for the fact that the hall where it is taught is up a steep path through the jungle and has mesh walls just to keep the bugs out, so we exercise with a wonderful view of the treetops and of the sea beyond.

Lucy and I rejoined the rest of the team for our second shake of the day, which is served in the wellness centre. Then Alan and I walked up over a hill to the next bay, which is a bit like a mini version of ours – bounded by massive granite boulders and with a rather course sand that gives free exfoliation for the feet as you walk. The sea was really up today and we watched with interest as some of our team left in the taxi boat to go to Haad Rin.

Most of us are starting to feel a bit tired, although we’ve decided this may be to do with the hot sun, so we’re going to avoid that where possible. Off now to enjoy a few glasses of water to celebrate St Paddy. I’ll let you know how we got on with the programme at the end of the week.

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15^th March – Well, I hinted at this a couple of blogs ago and now the day has arrived. We have checked in at The Sanctuary, a spa and retreat sort of place on the other side of Koh Phangan, where we are booked in for a five-day fast and detox programme. Why? You may well ask. Just because it’s there and it’s totally different to anything we have done before. Both of us are sceptical about all this alternative lifestyle stuff, me especially, and now we want to give it a chance to see if it works for us. Wow – all sounds very Louis Theroux! We shall embrace the whole programme, including colonics (!), yoga (for me), massage, and meditation, but stopping short of the ecstatic shaking and the Tibetan humming.

The only way to reach The Sanctuary is by boat, so this morning we caught a taxi down to the dock and were greeted by the usual crowd of guys shouting, “Taxi-boat, taxi-boat”. We chose the nearest one and he quoted us a price, then explained that we needed to wait until there were more people to fill the boat, otherwise it would be twice the price. They must take bets on how long it will take the ‘falang’ (foreigners) to crack. In our case, it took the length of a fruit shake plus about half an hour. During this last half hour I mentioned to our taxi-boat guy that I wanted a Bangkok Post and where could I buy one. He indicated that it was a long way away and pointed. Then he insisted on taking my money to go and buy the paper for me. I was a bit disconcerted when he turned in the opposite direction to the one he had indicated, but the reason for this soon became clear as he reappeared on a motorcycle. The dear man spent the next half hour driving around trying to find me a copy, but came back empty-handed and apologetic.

Our exclusive (and expensive) taxi-boat delivered us to the beach behind which The Sanctuary is located. The whole place has the look of a scout camp, but not so tidy or well provided with signs. Thankfully our little boat trip on my birthday had included a recce of the place, so we were able to take the most direct route to reception. As little of the jungle as possible has been disturbed to create this place, which consists mainly of bungalows of varying standards, but all overpriced, scattered around a web of sandy tracks. Our bungalow is Thai style, in other words, a wooden structure on stilts with rattan walls and roof. In this case it is roomy with French windows opening on to a lovely balcony complete with chairs and hammock. The flaw is the downstairs bathroom, which will require a trip (hopefully not literally) down the stairs several times in the night for both of us.

When we walked up the steps to our bungalow, we found a swarm of flies around the bottom of the door frame. I did my usual ‘yuk, disgusting, can’t put up with that’ noises, so Alan, before he even had a chance to get into the room, bless him, stopped and pulled out his trusty can of Off and gave them a good spraying. Some weaker ones keeled over, but these were tough little beasties and when we came back out of our room some minutes later, there they were doing wingovers and barrel rolls as if nothing had happened. We were on our way to check in with Mr Moon (honestly!) at the Wellbeing Centre, so I said I would ask him for some fly spray. When I mentioned these flies to him he said, “No, no, not flies, these are tiny bees and they will not harm you”. I am now racked with guilt and have resolved to try and live in harmony with them. Maybe we can even do some Tibetan humming together!

My happiness was restored when we went for a little walkabout and found a pineapple growing wild and, at last, a cashew tree. I’ve provided the usual photographic evidence, but please don’t ask me if you can eat the fruit that the cashew is growing on – I don’t have an internet connection as I write, so I don’t know how any of it works. I will find out and report back.

We were supposed to be eating only raw foods and avoiding caffeine and alcohol over the past two days including today to prepare us for the fast. So last night we enjoyed the last of our bottle of Jamison’s on the balcony and I had spaghetti bolognaise for dinner. Alan gave the programme a wink and a nod by having a vegetarian curry. We had toast and tea this morning. I expect our transgressions will be revealed eventually, if not by our pH test later today, then by the colonics tomorrow. We have been warned not to eat after 5pm today, so we had a raw salad each at lunchtime as our ‘last meal’, all washed down by a yummy apple, carrot and beetroot shake. I made the mistake of browsing the DIY colonics guide as I ate and could not finish my salad despite Alan’s reminder that this would be my last proper food for over five days.

I will try to give a day-by-day account of what this all feels like, leaving out the goriest details, of course. Well, maybe not – scream if you want to go faster! I am starting from the standpoint that this is all overpriced bunkum and the presence of so many long-haired hippy types and young, bright-eyed girls speaking in that breathy, deliberate style of the self-righteous does nothing to dispel this view. Oh, add to that the whooping and squealing I’ve just heard. Apparently there’s some awareness workshop or something going on.

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12^th March – Up early to go diving. I was in the shower with hair wet when I realised the water was bright orange. A bit disconcerting, but I reckoned it must be either clay that had been washed into the system by the recent rains, or rust from the tank, so I carried on. The water, however, served to render my hair un-comb-able but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

We set off to go diving under the care of a German named Herman. We rode in a pickup truck for about half an hour, then took almost an hour on a boat to reach Sail Rock, allegedly one of the best dive sites in Thailand, just not today. The combination of a rough sea kicking up sand and the arrival of a thick soup of plankton reduced the visibility to around 3 metres at best – and it was often worse. However, on our first dive we managed to see a great big grouper and survived an encounter with a very large and bad-tempered trigger fish. The highlight was the cowrie shell that Alan picked up as a birthday present for me, for once breaking the rules about not taking anything out of the sea when you are fun diving. He checked, of course, that the creature inside was dead before taking it – the fact that the shell was upturned and a fish was munching on the contents was a bit of a giveaway. The shell is really large and with beautiful markings. All being well it will travel the rest of the journey with us and become a prized possession back home in Stewkley.

A French couple and I decided not to go in for the second dive. I found it very claustrophobic to be diving in those conditions. Alan therefore buddied up with another German, a bald man-mountain called Peter. As they swam out to the point where they would descend, I heard Peter say to Alan, “You are the oldest buddy I have ever had”. I smiled. Later he said to me that Alan was a very good buddy indeed, always in the right place.

When we got back to base we were pleased to learn that the water problem had been sorted out. The level in the storage tank had got low and the colour was indeed from rust at the bottom. I was very glad to remove the traces of orange from my nooks and crannies and to get a comb through my hair!

We walked along the seashore into town. Alan loved it, but all I could think about was what came out of the various pipes that appear from underground and terminate on the beach. From time to time we had to wade in the sea to pass the rocks and I’m so glad the wind didn’t change otherwise my face would have been forever screwed up in disgust.

13^th March – My 50^th birthday started in an unpromising fashion. I had said that I wanted to go on a sightseeing trip around the island, so yesterday in town we engaged a taxi driver called Sal to take us. The map shows all sorts of little roads going off and I wanted to explore these. So we had breakfast in the restaurant, which is constructed as a series of platforms with quite high steps between. After breakfast we went to reception to go on the internet while waiting for Sal. I suddenly remembered I hadn’t packed dry clothes to get into after snorkelling, so I summoned a member of staff to operate the funicular for me. On the way to the embarkation point, I remembered that we had left our beach bag in the restaurant, so I rushed in to pick it up. On the way back up, my flip-flop caught on the step between two levels and I went sprawling. Some Singaporeans having breakfast gasped in unison, but I leapt up and continued with as much decorum as possible under the circumstances.

By this time I was hot and bothered, but made it to the lift where I explained to the girl that I just needed to run into our bungalow to fetch something and could she keep the lift waiting for me and bring me back up again. She nodded and said OK, so off I went at snail’s pace in the lift thingy. When it arrived at our stop I ran into the bungalow, grabbed my clothes, then ran back to the lift. By this time I was slick with sweat and cussing like a trooper. Having closed the gate of the lift I waved to the top to indicate that I was ready for the return trip. When nothing happened I got up, turned around, and realised that I had been waving to an empty space. I sat for a few minutes thinking the girl had maybe just turned away from a moment, but when no head appeared I realised there had been a flaw in the plan – or rather, in communication of the plan. So I dashed back to our bungalow and tried to ring reception to ask for the lift to be brought up again. The blasted phone was engaged and engaged and eventually I gave up. I retrieved the bag and, oozing charm from every pore, I left the lift and slammed its door. Then set off to climb the endless steps to the top.

Alan knows when to keep quiet and let me stew in my own juice. So this was the state of affairs when the taxi turned up. Sadly we had not thought to ask Sal what sort of taxi he had and it turned out to be one of the songthaews, which is like a covered pickup truck with bench seats along the sides. You have to duck your head down to see below the canopy – not ideal for sightseeing! There was very definitely just one passenger seat in the front. My brain was overheating from the events so far, so I just accepted that we would get a crick in our necks. Then we looked at the map and I pointed out the roads I wanted to explore. “No, no, no”, said Sal, “these roads only passable by four wheel drive”. So it ends up that there are only two major roads we can follow and the sightseeing tour will consist of a temple, some elephants and lots of beaches. But still my brain refused to soldier and I just numbly agreed to all this.

We set off and I sat in the back of the taxi looking like someone who was very cross that it was their birthday. By this time Alan felt he just had to intervene, so he pointed out that I was about to spend the next four or five hours doing something I didn’t want to do, which was a daft thing at any time, but even dafter on your 50^th birthday. Finally the red mist cleared and I heard what Alan was saying, so I tapped on the back of the cab and indicated to Sal that he should pull over. When I explained that this was not what I had envisaged, he was very understanding and took us into town where we caught a boat and had a nice little trip out on the sea instead. We were amused by the hate-hate relationship between the man in charge and his boat boy, who was the spitting image of Sammy Davis Junior.

Back in town, Alan gave me two lovely little bracelets and bought me a new top. And, of course, there is the cowrie shell out on our balcony that is making the worst stench I have ever smelt in my life. Alan must really love me; he is the one who is gradually washing out the bits of the creature as it rots. When he carries out this operation, I light several incense sticks in the room and sit with a towel over my nose.

Later we came back to Blue Hill Resort, swam in the pool, watched some ants carrying a dead moth up the window in the bathroom, watched the sun go down from our balcony, then went into town for a lovely meal of lobster, tiger prawns, and sea bass. It turned out to be a very good 50^th birthday after all – you just have to have the right partner!

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9^th March – Our final day on Koh Tao and as usual a bit of an admin day before moving on. When I say ‘admin day’ these usually entail a long lie in, brunch, rescuing our laundry from wherever we have put it the day before and packing our rucksacks, then going out for a bit to eat wearing tomorrow’s travelling clothes. As we often do, we ended up back at the place where we stayed on our first night. It has a good restaurant and does barbecue skewers in the evening.

10^th March – I managed to get off to sleep last night after reading for a while, but the bars on the beach made sure this was a short-lived pleasure by pumping up the volume once more. As Alan drifted off, I wondered why earplugs have not been invented that can overcome the racket for me – I’m thinking of ordering ready-mix concrete or squirting in some B&Q expanding filler. By 3am when Johnny Cash was blurting on about his Ring of Fire for the second time I had given up all attempts to hold my pillow over my ears or tie my arms in a granny knot above my head. The electricity had gone off, therefore the fan was off, I was bathed in sweat, which in turn aggravated my mossie bites. The bed was a typical Thai bed – if you want to know what this feels like, just lie down on any piece of bare ground and stick a four-slice toaster under your head as a pillow. It makes every bone in my body ache. Around 4:30am some imitation of Doris Day belted out ‘Que Sera, Sera’ and that was it. Well actually, no that wasn’t it. Some eejits in the next bungalow jabbered away on their veranda in an Eastern European language until the sun came up. I blame Gorbachev and his Glasnost.

I find it difficult to sleep when I am in a foul mood, even though I’ve had plenty of practice, so I passed the time trying not to disturb Alan, who slept like a baby through all of the above. Although the mattress felt like rock, the whole bed contrived to wobble like a jelly if someone so much as moved a little toe. We got up around 8am, showered, packed the last of our things and hopped in the back of a pickup truck to be driven to the harbour. The ferry arrived and departed on time and we spent a pleasant hour and a half speeding to Koh Phangan (which, I may have mentioned before, is pronounced ‘Co Pan Yang’).

I’m afraid the extent of my vocabulary and ability to assemble it in the right order cannot do justice to our new home for the next five days. But I’ll try. Our bungalow perches halfway down a steep hillside,  level with treetops and looking down on a few rooftops to either side. From our bed, which overlooks our balcony through large picture windows, we enjoy an unbroken view of the sea and islands beyond. Our bedroom is large, with excellent decor – I have never experienced polished concrete as an interior finish, but our floor and the low platform that runs around two sides of the room are made of this. It is smooth and warm and the blotchy finish only serves to compliment the dark wood furniture, pinkish-terracotta walls and cream floor-length curtains. In the bathroom, the shower is separate from the washbasin and loo, which is a massive boon – no creeping over a slippery wetroom floor just to go to the loo or wash hands. Exactly the sort of place I want to spend my 50^th birthday.

The bungalows are reached by an ugly little funicular lift affair that cuts a swathe from reception at the top of the hill down to the pool almost at sea level – all very utility and like something you might see on a building site. We think it must be quite new as, apart from its shiny metalwork, the system of ordering it is to call reception and tell them your room number, upon which a member of staff comes to the top and sends the lift down, judging when it might be level with the platform for your bungalow. Some are better at this than others. Then they man the engine while the lift makes its way slowly up again.  I think they will have to find a more sustainable means of operating the contraption.

After walking into town for a few items and to check out the diving scene we opted for the taxi back up to Blue Hill Resort. The weather had turned very humid and heavy, with clouds gathering to the west. Our best option was to head for the swimming pool at the bottom of the hill. This, too, turned out to be lovely, with decking and thick greenery all around. It’s an infinity pool, so there is that lovely sensation of being able to swim out over the edge and into the sea.

In the pool we met Paul, Helen, Gareth and Colin. It was Gareth’s 30^th birthday, so we all floated about in the pool chatting away and having the occasional cold drink, which arrived via waiter on the funicular, having been ordered by a convenient telephone. Eventually the gathering clouds obscured the sun completely and soon we found ourselves in a swimming pool with torrential rain beating down on our heads. Why does this make grown-ups laugh hysterically? Well it did, and it was fun.

We were invited to go out with the gang for dinner to celebrate Gareth’s birthday, and we accepted with pleasure. Our food was lovely and we enjoyed the company tremendously.

11^th March – At 5am Alan woke me to watch an amazing tropical storm. The fact that I had slept through all the thunder and lightning just shows how much sleep I was catching up on! Rain poured down, hissing on the leaves of the trees and rattling on our roof. We stood out on the covered part of our balcony for a little while, just watching and listening. It’s wonderful to see the rain – this part of the world needs it desperately.

Later, when we got up for the second time today, I started by doing some exercises on the balcony, as I have sadly neglected any form of fitness regime since leaving home. It’s so much nicer when there’s a lovely view to look at each time you sit up! After breakfast we walked along the beach to the town, where we booked up a couple of dives for tomorrow. We’ll be going to Sail Rock, which is about a third of the way back to Koh Tao, so it will be a long trip out and back.

Once again the weather is cloudy and very humid. We had lunch, then went and watched the sea on the sunrise beach side of the Haad Rin. It’s amazing how the sea can be so different on opposite sides of a peninsula. On our sunset side, we have a gentle, rolling swell. On the sunrise side there are big breakers and folks riding surf boards. The sunrise side is also the venue for the notorious Koh Phangan Full Moon parties, [thanks for the warning, (nephew) Gareth, we have slotted neatly between the Half and Full Moon parties!] and we are so pleased to be some way away from all of the bars that had the lingering stink and garbage of their night time trade.

We noticed the dark clouds gathering to the south, so we caught a taxi back to Blue Hill and, with perfect timing, made it back to our room just as the first fat raindrops hit the decking. 

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Parish Notices – Gareth, how amazing that you did your Advanced Diver on the same, obscure little Thai island where I did my Adventure Diver! We haven’t spotted Buddha Divers, but there are so many dive shops here that we have probably just missed it. We may do some more diving on the west coast – we were watching for the whale sharks, apparently they are around here, but didn’t get to see them, so maybe the islands off Krabi will give us another chance.

Dave Pavey, I know you remember our little nephew, Stephen-John, who spent a day with the greenkeepers several years ago. S-J is now taller than his mum and me and has just had his pacemaker replaced for the adult size. Amazing to think he was only four when he had the first one put in, on my birthday. He’s now fourteen and had the second one put in on his Uncle Alan’s birthday! (If Dave isn’t following the blog, perhaps someone would mention this to him.)

Thank you to family and friends for all your kind wishes for our anniversary and birthdays. It’s lovely to know you are thinking of us.

7^th March – Today was our 23^rd wedding anniversary and we spent it doing not very much at all. We did, however, visit the dentist, which is an odd thing to do on your anniversary, but we both wanted to have our teeth cleaned and polished. No need to let standards drop just because we are a pair of out-of-work bums!

At 5pm we went for a snorkel, thinking that it would be cooler by then, but the sun stayed at full strength until about half an hour later. We only saw the usual fishy suspects cruising around the coral, but it is just so lovely to be able to put your head in the water and blank out everything else, then to pop up and hear the laughter and noise on the beach, then once again go back to the gurgling, peaceful underwater world.

Later we stood in the sea, cold beer in hand, and watched the sun sink below the horizon. After a shower we went to a lovely restaurant called ‘Papa’s Tapas’ – run by a Swedish guy, oddly enough! We had a selection of tapas to start: prawns with chilli and garlic; lamb meatballs; cauliflower risotto; sesame and honey chicken wings; and garlic bread. Our main courses of lamb for Alan and chicken for me were just perfectly seasoned and delicately flavoured and cooked to perfection. Really enjoyable.

Home to sleep, perchance to dream...not a hope! At one point there was a lull in the music and I thought I had it cracked. Moments later my sleep was blown out of the water by A Yellow Submarine going at full blast and powered by the assembled drunks.

8^th March – Alan’s 68^th birthday. Today, as his birthday present, we are going diving again. When we turned up at the dive shop, there was a lovely surprise – a chocolate cake complete with roses, candles and writing wishing us a happy anniversary and Alan a happy birthday. The staff of the dive shop and the resort reception assembled to sing happy birthday to Alan and we shared the cake before setting off for our dive. Unfortunately for our poor underworked instructor, Andy Green, there just isn’t enough business at the moment, which meant we were his only two customers and had the boat, its skipper, and him to ourselves. The owner of the resort is not investing anything in marketing Siam Divers, which is a crying shame, as we see other boats overloaded with fun divers and people doing courses. If anyone was out here and wanting to learn to dive, I would beg them to come to Siam – not only are the instructors, Andy and Dan, enthusiastic and good at their job, but you would enjoy almost one-to-one attention rather than being in a group of about 6 or 8 people.

Anyway, by coincidence these two dives were the best we have had so far. Andy had chosen two sites that we had to ourselves for most of the time. We saw several Moray eels, one of which was swimming out in the open. Neither Andy nor Alan, with all their experience, had seen before a Moray out during the daytime. We saw blue-spot ribbon-tailed rays, a box fish, several large puffers and trigger fish, a large and very live conch, several cowries, and all the colourful angel fish and butterfly fish and others that are now part of the background to every dive. Andy took us through lots of lovely swim-throughs on the second dive and I was pleased I could demonstrate that my lesson on peak buoyancy was paying off. [Laura – having started my diving life with 8kgs of weight back in Australia, I am now down to using just 5kgs with a short-leg, 3mm suit.]

It was lovely to see Alan looking so happy when we surfaced after the second dive. Although it’s not really like a birthday present when you plan something together and have a joint bank account, I don’t think there is anything out here I could have bought Alan that would have bettered this.

Later we went to another nice restaurant and once again had food of a standard that would have been acceptable in a good-quality London restaurant, but at a third of the price. The Minister of Finance, however, is making noises about future ‘austerity measures’ and ‘fiscal prudence’. I have no idea what these are, but they don’t have a nice ring to them.

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2^nd March – Today we moved into our little bungalow. It’s spacious, quaint, and only about 100 yards from the beach. It is set in a slightly wild, eccentrically-laid out garden, which is lovely to look out on from our veranda and affords each bungalow a bit of privacy. There is a particular bird in these parts that is mainly black with white wing tips, a yellow beak, and white markings around its eyes. It behaves like a starling, but has a very loud, insistent call. A number of these have already been to visit, just in case there is some food around.

After a ‘loafy’ day, we headed to the beach for some snorkelling. It was amazing to find coral and fish just a few feet off the beach. After our snorkel we settled on one of the beach front bars for a cold drink to accompany the sunset. It’s admirable how these restaurant owners extend their property on to the beach every evening. The sand is swept, then each place has its own style of markers – for some, just tall bamboo poles that hold flares when it gets dark; for others, there are elaborately-styled candle-holders made from the sand and palm branches planted to create a little green oasis. Low tables, mats and cushions are then laid out on the sand. Each morning there is no trace of these and the sand is cleared of its night time detritus.

As we watched the comings and goings of the long-tailed boats and waited for the sun to go down, we were joined by a couple from Saskatchewan, Mo and Grant. They just happened to say hello and we are so glad they did. It turns out they were here with their 25-year-old son, Adam, who is travelling. We spent a very pleasant hour or two chatting as the sun went down. It’s rare to just bump into people that are so compatible, especially here on Koh Tao where most of the people seem to be 20 years or below and bent on partying until they drop every night without a break.

3^rd March – Mo and Grant had said they were looking to move from their current accommodation, so it was a lovely surprise to see Mo and Adam walk past to look at a bungalow nearby. Adam is going to go diving with Siam Divers, the outfit we are booked in with this afternoon. Mo is thinking of doing an introductory dive. Grant intends to keep his feet firmly on dry land, or at least on the boat.

We went diving in the afternoon and it was great to find that we were a small group that included Adam and Mo. Other dive boats, including the well-known Big Blue, are bigger than ours, but much more crowded. I have never seen such crowded dive sites! The dive went well and I had no trouble with my ears (which I had been worrying about because of the cold I’ve had). It was great to see Mo down under having her introductory dive and clearly loving it.

Back at the dive shop, we were discussing the next day’s dive and it was on a deep site, down to 30 metres or more. As an Open Water Diver, I was restricted to 18 metres, so we made the decision that I would take the Adventure Diver qualification, which would remove this restriction from me. This just entails doing a deep dive with an instructor and then doing two more specialist dives, which I choose.

4^th March – We did our diving in the morning, starting with the deep dive that is my first of three towards the Adventure Diver qualification. Adam was with us again, but Mo and Grant were off doing other things. The dive site was so crowded, we had to stay close at times to avoid getting mixed up with other groups! One of our instructors came up with the great idea of staying put when the other boats set off for the second dive site. This turned out to be a good decision and, when we went back down, we managed to have a very enjoyable and peaceful dive, even seeing a really massive grouper. I learned about and used the dive computer as my second qualifying dive. Mo and Grant met us back on the beach and we arranged to go out for supper together in the evening.

Koh Tao rises steeply from the shore, with palm trees, mangoes and frangipane blanketing its slopes from sea to peak. Some of the rockier shores are home to the more upmarket resorts, with little bungalows poised elegantly on long stilts, however, most of humanity is pressed into narrow strips behind the few sandy beaches on the island. In the early morning the only people on the beaches are fitness freaks and divers getting into little boats to be taken to the larger dive boats out in the bay. Later, young families emerge to bathe in the shallow bay.  At night, however, a different scene emerges.

We have noticed a very big change in the type of young person we are seeing here. Or maybe they are the same young people behaving differently. Wherever we have been before, the kids travelling have had a spirit of adventure and an interest in culture, history and other people that sets them apart. They have had no trouble at all in relating to ‘older people’ like us and we have had many an interesting exchange. Here, there is a change of mood. Many of them wander about in flocks, all talking the same way – loudly and often punctuated with swear words no matter who is within hearing. They walk or congregate in clumps in the narrow back alleys and will hardly step aside to let you pass.

This evening, after a really lovely Indian meal with Mo, Grant and Adam, we went to a show laid on by the island’s apparently large community of ‘lady boys’. They performed cabaret, miming to popular songs and doing some great moves. Afterwards we went down to the beach to join Adam and his friends for a while. Alan and I had previously only seen the beach either during the day or in the early evening for sunset, so it was a bit of a shock to find a seething mass of young folks sitting around drinking the buckets of booze that are sold here, all shouting to be heard over the loud music. We were introduced to Adam’s friends he has met while travelling. Three very pretty girls and a couple of lads, all of whom greeted Mo and Grant like long-lost friends.

There were three guys on the edge of the water ‘performing’ with fire. They are called 'fire spinners', I’m told, and they twirl sticks that are alight at each end. This gave some wonderful effects in the darkness. One chap went into the water, knelt down, then gradually lowered himself backwards until he disappeared underneath, all the while twirling his stick like a Catherine Wheel. Another one was swinging flaming balls on the end of chains. From time to time he would throw one of these really high into the air, then catch it in his toes before it hit the ground.

At one point Adam and the girls had wandered off, leaving Alan chatting to Mo and Grant and an Australian, Stuart, who revealed his great invention to me with some pride – island names. This requires those he meets to have a name they adopt while on the island. (OK, so it’s only marginally more childish than ‘bumpy, bumpy’!) He told me his island name was Achilles. I said, “So are you a bit of a heel, then?” He didn’t answer, I don’t think he knew how. He said I should have an island name, I said I would have to give it some thought. Just then an Indian lad bounced by and joined us on the mat. Stuart introduced him as ‘The Indian’, an island name, he proudly announced, that he himself had allocated.

Soon Achilles and The Indian were having their own conversation and I overheard Achilles say to The Indian, “Hey, you mustn’t worry about me sitting here with these old people, there are three really cool girls who’ve just gone to get a drink”. As The Indian wove away between the seated crowd, I leaned to Achilles and told him that I had thought of my island name. “Oh, what’s that?” he asked. “Old Person With Very Good Hearing”, I said. He had the good grace to say he hoped I hadn’t been offended. I didn’t reply, I didn’t know how.

5^th March – Motorbikes and quad bikes are a plague on this island and, no doubt, will remain so throughout the south of Thailand. The narrow streets and alleyways are full of hire places that, for 700 baht or around £14, will rent out a machine to anyone with a head – the only qualifications required are the ability to name one brand of vodka and two brands of beer.

Grant and I shared an absolute loathing of these things. Apart from the hazard of people who have never ridden a bike before being let loose amongst innocent pedestrians on narrow roads, these things are so noisy that you simply cannot talk while they are going by. Which is constantly. Alan wants us to hire a quad bike to go exploring the island. I have said it is now against my principles and that I would rather walk. We’ll see!

At lunchtime Mo and Grant turned up clutching a beer for each of us. A farewell drink on our veranda before they set off home via Bangkok. We have exchanged details and, Mo and Grant, if you are reading this, please be assured the invitation to visit was, and still is, sincerely meant. It would be lovely to see you again.

We spent the afternoon doing admin and making plans for moving on. I stumbled upon a last-minute hotel room booking site online, so I’ve booked us into an expensive bungalow with a sea view on Koh Phangan (pr: Co Pan Yang) for a third of the price to see us through my birthday, then...well, I’m not going to tell you yet, but then for something completely different!

6^th March – Had a long lie in as we have been finding it difficult to get to sleep before two or three in the morning when the loud music stops. Even our earplugs fail to cut out the noise completely. Also, it is extremely hot here during the day and this does not let up much at night (apparently there is a heat wave forecast for the next month or so in Thailand).

Diving in the afternoon and I chose a lesson on peak buoyancy for my final qualifying dive. This was so useful, I learnt so much more about being comfortable and moving efficiently in the water. [Laura – I held a hover in the Buddha position for well over a minute!] Alan had the luxury of going off with the other dive instructor by himself and he enjoyed this thoroughly. Although I have long since stopped doing the OK sign to Alan every five minutes under water, I am still constantly looking around to make sure he hasn’t been eaten by a big fish or got trapped under a mermaid. I think he liked being with someone who is experienced enough not to need all this reassurance!

On our second dive, which was just for fun, we saw a great big hermit crab waving to us from his front door – brilliant. Back on shore, we completed the paperwork and I am now an Adventure Diver like Alan. So we can both go to depths of up to 40 metres now, which is where you are more likely to be able to see the big boys of the oceans.

Celebrated with a lovely barbecue at the restaurant of our first lodgings on the island, then early to bed. Bliss! No music tonight! Had a good night’s sleep.

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