Paul and Tracy's Main Blog

Woke up 10 minutes before the alarm was due to go off, having had another very vivid and very weird dream, about a colleague at work getting a new company car and emailing the person whose car it was – she was called Tracey with an “e”. It was so real, that I was shocked when I opened my eyes and instead of the inside of a grey open-plan office I saw thin muslin blinds with the clear outline of the bay... hey-ho, another day in paradise...





Showered and dressed we headed for breakfast, confident that our early morning start would make the buffet look more appetizing. We were wrong. Toast it was. With jam. And Orange squash and bad coffee. Then the guy arrived with his Toyota pick-up and the Great Elephant Trek was on. We climbed into the back and braced ourselves as he headed up the steep driveway and took us into town, where we picked up 3 eastern-European or Russian men before leaving town and turning into the elephant's home. Which stank of elephant doo-doo. I guess they don't know it's a bad idea to shit on your own doorstep...

We paid our money and had our choice made for us. We'd be riding “up front” on a rather large-looking elephant. Come to think of it, they were all rather large-looking. It's an elephant thing, I guess. We went upstairs in an odd-looking building with a landing that looked down on an elephant-sized pathway, into which our elephant was manoeuvred, and then clambered onto a bench-seat mounted on his back, just behind the driver (or pilot, or captain, or whatever it is you call someone who drives/rides/steers an elephant). And then we were off. The gentle rolling of our seat caused by the elephant's huge shoulders as he carried us gently up the trail was like being on a very small boat in a very big ocean with very big waves... but it was simply brilliant. I giggled and laughed like the little boy I am inside, whilst Tracy smiled and laughed alongside me (if this doesn't prove there's precious little wrong with her back now, nothing will!). The Russians, split across 2 elephants, tried their hardest not to smile. Wonder what's happened in their lives that means they've grown up so much they can no longer be 5 years old?





Our guide/driver/pilot/captain spotted a snake in the grass (ok, leaves, but it was a snake) and then started pointing into the trees. We scoured the branches looking for monkeys, or Tarzan, or even a large python, before spotting the lizard that was perfectly camouflaged and almost invisible against the trunk of the tree. We even wandered into a rubber plantation. Jungle, on an elephant? Yeah...





We then meandered through the forest for an hour or so, stopping every now and then so the elephants could destroy some more vegetation, as they pulled down bamboo or dug up large grasses and smashed their spoils against the ground to break away the soil, presumably to make it more palatable. Elephant cooking. Sort of.

Eventually we arrived at the river pool where we were due to bathe the elephants, except it didn't look like a bath, more like a stagnant puddle. When a nice English-speaking chap suggested that with the water in the condition it was, we perhaps forego the bathing and let the elephants take a walk in the water so we could have our photo taken, we gladly accepted his offer. Nellie (or was it Dumbo?) seemed to sense the reason why we were still on his back, and did his best not to get us wet. At least the photo looked good, and will sit nicely along with others we have that have been taken by proprietors of tourist entertainment...





That's not us, or our elephant, in case you didn't spot it. It's another couple who we caught up on the trail...

To make up for the disappointment of not getting to bathe our elephant (an no, that's not a euphemism for some strange Far Eastern pastime...), we got a slightly longer ride. And I got to steer/drive/ride/pilot/captain our elephant. Oh, yes! With our guide walking in front, seemingly not bothered which way Nellie took us (I say “steer”, but, trust me, without handlebars or a wheel, or even reins, I had no hope!), we continued down the trail whilst I bit my tongue to prevent me from yelling out like Tarzan... “aaaaarrrrrraaaaarrrrrraaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaagggghhhhhhhhhhhh”...





5 years old? Oh, yes...

Except my body isn't and the effort of hanging on with just my thighs made me tired and I was glad when we finally arrived back at the strange landing and were able to dismount and collect our “professional souvenir photo”...

We took the pick-up back into town and got the driver to drop us off at the bureau de change we'd spotted on the way out and gratefully changed some money as we'd been coppering-up to pay for the photo. We then wandered aimlessly up and down the high street looking for a suitable place to stop for a beer, before finally deciding to head for the beach and grab lunch where we ate last night (I said it was good, didn't I?). So lunch was taken sat on the floor, with a very small table and a very big view. We ordered a Thai salad – Larb Gai, just like I make at home except a fair bit hotter (than hell!) - and a chicken and basil with chillies on rice (also fairly spicy), and a couple of beers. Which fortunately were very cold and help soothe our burning mouths. God, I love Thai food....





Satiated once again, we strolled back along the beach to our bungalow and were pleasantly surprised to see it had been cleaned. And I now had a bed with sheets on (I've been using my new silk sleeping bag liner, which is just brilliant). And towels (we've been using our trekking ones). And fresh bottles of water in the fridge... Cool...





And so we changed again into our swimming gear and headed for the beach (or stepped outside our bungalow, it's the same thing). Where we relaxed and read and cooked until done....

A quick shower, beer and an update of the blog and it's almost time for the sunset...





Which Tracy captured on her new camera whilst sat on our patio...

Suitably chilled and with the temperature dropping to mere infero from the hell-hot of the day, we made our way back along the now familiar route round the beach to town. We'd seen an interesting looking bar earlier in the day, called the “Rock Sugar” which had a guitar-motif and a stage, and served pizza. We made our way there and ordered drinks and more Thai food. With a Garlic Bread starter... washed down with a very strong Black Russian (a drink, most of the Russian men we've seen are pale white and quite fat) for Tracy and a cold beer and SangSom & Coke chaser for me. Main course was the best yet – a fantastic whole sea bass deep fried and with a crispy garlic topping accompanied by the freshest tasting Thai Green Curry we've ever experienced. And rice, naturally.

We were all set for a long evening's drinking and merry-making when my stomach coughed politely and asked if we could head for the exit and a long sit down as quickly as possible. So we paid up and left, walking with clenched buttocks back across the beach, expecting at any moment to have to pull a very fast Reggie Perrrin and make for the sea... But we made it back in time to preserve what little dignity I have, where I disturbed the peaceful tranquillity of the resort with the loudest fart ever recorded. Sorry, but it's hard to write a blog and leave that sort of thing out...

With my stomach now more gentle breeze than rolling thunder, we read a while before attempting to go to sleep. It took much longer than usual, probably because of the lack of liquid sedatives, but eventually we fell into a deep sleep...