My Best Day in Thailand
To say it was my best day in Thailand would probably be an exaggeration and also irrevocably damage my relationship with Mrs. Boss, who will claim that I should be saying that our wedding takes the number-one spot. However, regardless of its ranking, yesterday was undoubtedly a high point, in more ways than one, of my time here.
The day did not start too well, although I am not one who calls 3:30AM “day” and being woken by the alarm after only four hours sleep is unlikely to find many of us full of the joys of spring — even if it happens to be spring! However, despite the hour I rose immediately and woke the rest of the family and we prepared for our day out. Our first stop was at Jasmine Mansion to collect two members of our hotel staff: our maintenance man Kung and our assistant manager Dan. They jumped into the car and in no time at all Jin and these two guys were chatting, laughing and joking as if it were the middle of the day. I was more interested in trying to catch up on some of the sleep that had been denied me by our early start and was soon making sarcastic comments, under my breath of course, but still loud enough to be picked up by Mrs. Boss’ highly trained aural organs.
The journey time for our trip was given to me as approximately three hours and I wanted to spend the vast majority of that time asleep. I actually got my way as soon the chatting relented slightly and I dozed off until we were within five kilometers or so of our destination. We had arrived in some shanty village and the ensemble was in need of sustenance before undertaking our mission for the day. I was simply in need of caffeine and gulped down two cups of something smelling remotely like coffee despite tasting like ground dishcloth. It did the trick though, and whether it was coffee or dishcloth made no difference to me. I smoked a couple of cigarettes and was soon alive and sitting enjoying the ambient morning temperature and the smell of fresh air — whenever my head was far enough away from my coffee cup that was.
We arrived at our destination at around 8:30AM and it was already alive with activity, albeit the sort of stifled, shuffling activity that one expects at such an early hour from those who have been denied sleep the previous night. It was at this point that I discovered the full extent of what was expected of me this very day and was also rather clear that much of the story had been omitted from pre-trip discussions.
We were in Khao Khitchakut National Park and ready to visit the ‘holy’ Prabad Mountain on the Thai-Cambodian border. This mountain was only open for a few weeks every year as part of some Buddhist festival. I know I should have all of the details pertaining to the festival, however, here in Thailand it does appear that there is a festival, or festivals, for almost every day of the week and a few spare in case of disaster striking! I therefore become somewhat confused on those rare occasions when the nature of a festival is explained to me and have normally completely forgotten every single thing I told to me within seconds of the telling. In addition I have also come to realize a general lack of desire on the part of Thais to impart meaningful information or replies to direct questions. It could be that they believe that knowledge is power and thus better retained by them or, alternatively, it is simply that they do not know the answer to 99 percent of questions ever posed. My money is firmly on the latter!
Despite the lack of information passed on to me by Mrs. Boss and my Thai work colleagues I set about first scouring a Thailand map before then enjoying the wonders of the Internet. Through this research I discovered that every February/March was when an annual pilgrimage was undertaken. The reason for such a pilgrimage was that the walk to the top of the mountain was thought to be following in the footsteps of the Lord Buddha. I presume Lord Buddha climbed up the full six and one-half kilometers to the top once upon a time and doubt he had the benefit of pickup trucks to do the majority of the work. Once again the Internet manages to give the illusion that even the daftest of us have some high level of intellectual capability. Perhaps ‘The Internet’ is the new religion.
The mountain trek started, quite understandably, at the base where there were assembled temporary dwellings such as food stalls, shops selling candles and other Buddhist paraphernalia, various ornament retailers and a few drink carts. There appeared to be ample parking available, although this was a weekday and I was advised that the weekends were considerably busier. We would ride on a pickup truck to the first phase of the mountain expedition and there would then be a second pickup truck to take us on phase two of the expedition. Phase three, my obvious favourite, was the final climb to the top which would be done on foot! My heart filled with joy as I contemplated a steep climb of two and one-half kilometers to the summit. As you may have gathered, I am not someone who is ever likely to be mentioned in the same breath as the recently departed Sir Edmund Hilary.
We boarded the first pickup, with its seats either side, and set off with our fellow passengers. The speed the driver was traveling at gave me some cause for concern which turned to panic as we careered around corners and skidded along narrow roadways cut into the mountain and offering steep drops which were all too clearly visible. With the screams from my traveling companions at a seriously high decibel level this experience started to remind me of an amusement park big dipper ride. The only real difference was that on a big dipper you do not get cars hurtling towards you going in the opposite direction.
After several minutes of this torture I did start to relax. The driving was impeccable, the drivers knew every twist and turn and operated each passing manoeuver with a seamless display of proficiency. It is not often, well actually it is not ever, that I will praise those behind the wheel of any motorized vehicle in Thailand but, believe me, these guys were damn good. Further investigation later revealed that these drivers would be trained for approximately one year before being given their mountain driving licence — if only the rest of the country would follow this particular example then Thailand would be a whole lot better and safer place.
As we exited our vehicle we walked through pathways adorned with numerous Buddha images and places to pray, throw money into ‘lucky’ trays and so forth. There was a large stone over which was draped a red sheet upon which visitors would write their names — for good luck of course! Fortunately there were also a few food and beverage establishments, which would more accurately be described as shacks, selling pot noodles and cold drinks. A warm coke, with no ice available, was the best refreshment I could find, but it passed a few minutes as we awaited the arrival of the second pickup truck and the commencement of phase two. This next journey was no less harrowing than the first and the speed if anything was slightly increased, despite a significantly higher incline.
Once we reached the end of phase two I was, for the first time, able to get an idea of the walk that lay ahead. “Not steep walk,†Mrs. Boss lied, as she saw the colour draining from my face. How on Earth would she know whether the walk was steep or not? She had never been here before, neither had any other member of our small group. Only young James, as is the way with children, had the ability to gauge the difficulties that lay ahead by exclaiming “We walk up that?†in somewhat less than positive tones!
We set off with James, Kung and I leading the way whilst Mrs. Boss and Dan ambled along looking intensely at every tree or bush they passed and each piece of earth beneath their feet. It was not long before James and Kung were out of sight. I had stopped to catch my breath at one point when James advised he would be carrying on, fortunately Kung appeared happy enough to accompany him onwards and upwards. As my limbs started to ache and my heart commenced pounding as if someone inside me was using it as a bongo drum I saw a notice board in English for the first time. I looked and wished I had missed the damn thing which informed me I was approximately one-third of the way to the top! I was never going to make it, I would surely die on this mountain and not only did my past life start to flash in front of me, so it appeared did little old Thai ladies in their 80s!
Despite my singular lack of progress and regular stops for a sit down, drink of water and a cigarette it was clear that Mrs. Boss and Dan were obviously as far behind me as James and Kung were ahead. I was, save for the several thousand other visitors, alone on the top of a bloody mountain and I had no idea why I was climbing this thing and even less inclination with every passing second to continue. However, continue I did and made progress, despite my rate of ascent never likely to trouble any keepers of land speed or mountain climbing records. I continued until I thought my heart was going to explode. I collapsed into a crumpled heap at the foot of yet another stairway and believed that whatever was now in my vision would be the last things I ever saw on this earth. As I looked for what I imagined was one last glimpse of life a monk walked past. He smiled at me before saying “Keep going, not far now,†and he continued his way up the staircase which I was sure was my final resting place.
I sat for about fifteen minutes and was so exhausted I did not even have the strength to light a cigarette. My heart was still pounding and, despite the relative cool of the mountain air, my clothes were soaked with my perspiration. Just as I started to say my farewell to the world Mrs. Boss and Dan appeared. They looked as though they had been for a simple walk and were merrily chatting and laughing away until they caught sight of me. “Are you okay?†was Mrs. Boss’s comment as she hurried towards me and sat by my side. “Are you fucking mad?†was the response I wanted to give but I was able only to emit a rather squeaky and quite pathetic “No.†They sat with me for a full ten minutes or more until, eventually, I decided that I was going to continue to the top of this damnable mountain, wherever the bloody top may be!
As it happened the top was twelve steps up the staircase that I had collapsed at the foot of. The monk had been wholly accurate in telling me I was close to the top — it may, however, have helped psychologically if nothing else, if he had added “Just up these twelve steps and you are there.†Once at the top I was met by James who looked at me as though I was an alien before telling me he had been waiting almost an hour — surely a gross exaggeration I thought!
Having reached the summit and started to realise that I was probably not going to pass away just yet, I took in the incredible views of the world below. I looked in wonderment at how far up we had travelled and down upon the mists that surrounded the mountain. I then saw the great ‘wishing stone’ that had been the point of this trek and we came together as a group to make our way towards it. After removing our shoes we clambered towards the rock where we were to place one hand against it and make a wish. The wish, I was duly advised, could be as many things as you wanted to wish for but you just got the one go, once you removed your hands your turn was over.
This final chapter of our ascent was not quite as easy as it had been envisaged. The base on the rock was literally covered in candle wax from previous worshippers and made the slope treacherous. One foot forward and two backwards followed by three side way stumbles was about par the course for me although eventually I made it. I put my hands on the great rock, more for balance than to make a wish it must be said, and went through my gamut of requests. Once completed, my hands removed, I then very unceremoniously tumbled to the foot of this particular area and nearly took out half-a-dozen Buddha images and assembled worshipers. Mrs. Boss mumbled apologies to the fellow worshippers I had nearly sent plummeting to their certain deaths as she led me away although she did also show some, albeit slight, concern for my well being.
After a few minutes seated and taking in the views whilst Mrs. Boss, Dan and Kung visited the monk giving a speech in a nearby tent it was time for the descent. This I was, in a perverse way, looking forward to. As we all know going down is a lot easier than going up! I coped with the descent with ease and although James still managed to get down quicker than me it was by only a matter of seconds rather than hours. In fact when we all reached the foot of the climb we universally acknowledged James as the hero of the day and agreed he had shown both a maturity and stamina well beyond his years — just a shame the same could not really be said of me!
Our two pickup trips to the mountains base were easily navigated and all we wanted now was to eat — we had been mountaineering for five hours almost and were starving. This is with the exception of our day’s hero who simply sat on a chair at our chosen restaurant and fell into a deep sleep.
As we journeyed back to Pattaya with the pains of the climb receding further every second I began to think about the whole day’s experience. It was absolutely wonderful, cool, beautiful, natural and, of course, high up! It was an uplifting and something totally different. Yes, very definitely one of my best ever days in Thailand!
