Hoʻopuka ʻia: 27.02.2017
We treated ourselves to a tight-contrasted program: We spent two days on the quiet but incredibly touristy island of Koh Lanta, whose west coast seems completely reserved for tourists, while it is advised not to go to the east coast because the people living there feel gawked at. Then three days on the party island of Koh Phi Phi, which would be hard to beat in beauty if it weren't for hourly loads of white people being unloaded and sunburned ones being reloaded. There is a bustling activity because this island consists only of tourists and people who work for them. There is no normal life to observe with interest, only organized excursions. There is no real contact between Thais and us tourists, and I realize how little I felt like a tourist in the first two months and why Thailand hasn't completely thrilled me so far. There is no balance on this island, it is a single exploitation of nature, tourists are brought here, allowed to splash around in the water for half an hour, then an entrance fee is charged, and they are taken to the sunset on time... The magic that this island undoubtedly has can still be felt if you look closely, but you can no longer experience it.
The Beach was filmed on the undeveloped neighboring island, if you want to go ashore, you have to pay 13 Euros, for the privilege of squeezing yourself together with hundreds of people on a beach, being able to walk a circular path for 5 minutes, and being able to enter the water on a 20m wide section, while the other area is blocked by boats. It is downright ridiculous. At the snorkeling spot where we stop, almost all coral is dead, and fish devour the pineapple leftovers that are thrown into the water by the boats. Nevertheless, nature somehow manages to shine with the most beautiful shades of blue and turquoise, with white sand as fine as flour and colorful fish. I can't come here and condemn and judge everything now, because I was there too, I let myself be driven around in a boat, enjoyed partying on the beach under the starry sky at night, sat in trendy breakfast cafes and even ate pasta. However, a small bad conscience remains. Karma wants to be restored again and there is no better place than the island of Koh Sriboya. No white sandy beaches, no turquoise blue water, but a paradise, a retreat with a small bungalow right by the sea, relaxed people, and birdsong. The crossing here on three different boats is already my absolute Thailand highlight: We in the boat with chickens, school children, women carrying bags of shopping, men loading motorbikes onto our boat over narrow ramps, a near crash of a scooter, after which the whole boat laughs in relief, a man shares his herbal candies with everyone present and there is a lot of laughter and napping on the trip. I have the feeling that I can breathe again here, and we read a lot, enjoy delicious Thai food, and do a little kayaking. Nothing more is needed. Oh yes, I have two new goals: to be able to do a handstand again (you can see from the photos that this is still a long way off) and to learn Dutch just for the fun of it.
First conclusion: These "seen-it" places can be checked off the list. But in the end, the truly memorable experiences are the ones we have with each other. And second conclusion: nature is only natural when it is largely left in peace and only then is it really relaxing. Third conclusion: There are probably hardly two people who are more different than Desi and me. Even for ourselves, and probably for many others as well, it is sometimes a mystery how we can be friends. But we are, we remain, and I will miss her terribly. A prime example of how understanding and tolerance can maintain a relationship (although I admit that she is much more patient with me than I am with her).
So once again a stage comes to an end and for the next two weeks I have my no less beloved brother at my side <3