Mae Haad for the second time

After not being able to find a new place to stay in Sritanu, we had no choice but to return to Mae Haad, where I still had my hut booked and paid for until February 11th. We left Sritanu reluctantly, but on the other hand, we were glad to have this fallback option.

While Darshi drove with our luggage to Mae Haad by taxi, I took our scooter. Shortly before reaching our destination, there was another police checkpoint. This time, it was set up more professionally on both sides. I had no choice but to stop. This time, I was wearing both a helmet and a mask, which I had been wearing on the scooter since the first incident on the main road.

I asked the officer, what is the problem? He only replied with a curt, I will control everything. I opened my fanny pack and pulled out my passport, which I happened to have with me this time due to the move. He briefly glanced at it, casually flipped through a few pages, and handed it back to me without a word. He was more interested in my fanny pack, which he reached into without hesitation or asking permission, and rummaged through the compartments. He wasn't very thorough and quickly gave up searching for anything useful, instructing me to continue driving. There was no question about my driver's license; apparently, his attention was solely focused on drugs. I could have been carrying kilograms of drugs in my bag or backpack - he didn't even bother to look there. But I definitely won't complain. While I and other tourists on their scooters were stopped and checked, the following taxi with Darshi and our luggage on board was simply waved through. They only checked if the driver and passenger were wearing masks.

Darshi's hut had remained free and untouched, even though he hadn't paid any further. So, we settled back into the dilapidated dwelling, or as far as you can call it settling when there is no furniture.

The two resort managers from Myanmar were delighted to see us again, as we were almost part of the furniture and were welcomed as regular customers.

Even the lonely dog, who doesn't belong to the resort but prefers to stay here due to a lack of other accommodations, seemed to recognize us again. Maybe it was because Darshi had given him a few treats during our first stay here.

In the evening, we sat on our verandas, me in my hammock, minding our own business when suddenly I heard a loud crash followed by screams. I was jolted out of my thoughts and just saw Darshi clinging to one of the pillars of his hut, desperately trying to climb back onto the veranda. Luckily, he managed to do so with his last bit of strength and all the willpower he had. Gasping for breath, he recovered from the initial shock, and we looked unbelievably at the cause of this collapse. The wooden bench he had been sitting on, along with the side railing of the veranda, had broken free from its fastenings and collapsed outward or downward. It could have ended badly, but fortunately, Darshi remained uninjured and escaped with just a fright. While he checked if everything was still attached to him, I immediately informed the resort caretakers, who had also heard the noise and already had an idea of what had happened. They took note of this catastrophe with laughter and a shrug, as if it happened more often and was completely normal. I actually believe that such incidents are normal here. If you look at the condition of the huts, you have to expect such disasters. Nothing out of the ordinary. When we woke up the next morning, a makeshift railing had already been attached to the veranda using ropes and a freshly cut small tree trunk. Nails or screws were completely out of the question given the decrepit pillars. It was a miracle that they hadn't broken free due to the forces at play. The broken pieces were promptly dissolved into their atomic particles in a small fire in the evening. Together with dried leaves and the resulting smoke, they now provided excellent mosquito protection.

Not only because of this incident, it was clear to Darshi that he would not stay here. His decision to go to Bangkok for a few days was now final and irrevocable. He immediately started researching on the internet and booked his trip, first with the express ferry, which is running again, to Surat Thani and from there, this time not by night train but by day bus, to the capital in 7-8 hours. And because he had missed the opportunity to arrange for a transfer to Thongsala in time, I found myself obliged to take him to the pier on the scooter, at half past seven in the morning. Those who know me know that this is a big sacrifice for me. But what wouldn't you do for friends, and besides, he had also paid his share for the scooter and was allowed to benefit from it.