It happened again: my Photoshop version got corrupted and got stuck the moment I tried to apply a filter. After unsuccessful tweaking on it, I uninstalled the programme to reinstall it with the help of my backup version. How embarrassing – it doesn’t work. Not only I need Photoshop for presenting you better looking pictures, but also I depend on it for layouting and compiling my CV. Until I have found a solution how to cope with that huge annoyance, you have to bear my unedited photos.
Having left Australia doesn’t mean that you won’t see pictures from Oz. And it starts right here, right now while sitting on a round bistro table in my Bay View Resort hotel room. The circulating ceiling fan is running, the sliding doors are wide open and the view through the arcade on Patong and the ocean is really picturesque. The construction site close by decreases the ultimate holiday feeling experience a bit, but the noise of hedge trimmers, chainsaws and circular saws in the neighbourhood of my accommodation in Isaac Street were not less bothering, so I am already used to that kind of ambient sounds.
Urban Climb: The day before I traveled to Coolangatta, I decided to go climbing with James, Daniel and his daughter Ieva for a last time. I took my camera with me and tried not to worry about the chalk we used on our hands to get a better grip on the wall. Of course it would make my beloved Lumix DMC-FZ150 filthy dirty and the chalk could potentially intrude and damage it as well. – It was worth the risk. The camera survived and we shot some memorable pictures. I have no idea why the urban climb management doesn’t provide the hall with better light conditions. They surely don’t care about the struggle, photographers with small size sensor cameras have to go through, but they should at least care about the safety of their members and guests. Furthermore the colours of the different routes on the wall are harder to distinguish when the lighting is weak.
To remember this enjoyable activity, I showed full commitment…and ended up with several blisters and loss of epidermis. 😉 (as shown in the gallery)
Travel preparation: I was concerned about the 15kg weight limit for my checked luggage and started weighing all my goods and garment the day before leaving Brisbane. I reduced the amount of shampoo, threw away pairs of socks which had seen better days… To make a long story short: I optimized the heck out of the stuff I planned to take with me. Later, at night-time, I did the online check-in and noted to my excitement that the limit wasn`t 15kg as stated on my flight itinerary but 20kg. Wow! 5kg more immediately stopped the hassle which things I should take with me and which I should abandon. The next morning I tried to pack my backpack (the big green trolley I traveled with for the last nine months is partially broken, damaged and weighs 2kg more than my backpack I used as cabin luggage before). I compressed, rearranged, pushed and pulled but there was no way to get everything in that 50+15litre backpack. James, who generously had offered me a lift to Roma Street train station, suggested to go to a well sorted luggage shop first. For $45 I found a spacious (150 litre!) super light-weight (615 gram) duffle bag. I stored my backpack in it and added all the plastic bags with the bits and pieces I couldn’t fit in my backpack. The disadvantage of that duffle bag is its inconvenience of transportability. The straps are not suitable for carrying it on my back and they are too long for walking with stretched arms. Carrying more than 20kg in this bulky fellow (I still had lots of food in it to comfort me in Coolangatta) on one shoulder quickly caused severe pain. I padded my shoulder with a T-shirt and later on with a towel but it was still heavily aching.
Coolangatta: I said goodbye to James at Roma Street station and hello to a hurting back and sore shoulders. The 500 metres from the bus station in Coolangatta to my YHA hostel took me more than 15 minutes – an eternal amount of time for someone who could easily run the same distance in less than 90 seconds. The hostel was okay, nothing to rave about. I stored my bags and headed out for some afternoon pictures at the beach, reachable in four minutes by foot. It was very misty. The skyline of Surfers Paradise appeared blurred in reality and even more on camera.
In the evening I met Tony again, a guy who stayed at the hostel with his family. We did quite extensive small talk in the afternoon and now intensified our conversation. He is a hobby photographer, too. We shop talked about camera gear, showed each other our cameras, lenses, photos and eventually changed the topic to architecture, sustainable energy resources, politics and differences in cultures… . It was already after midnight when we quit our chat and I fell asleep short before 2am. At 5:40am I got up again, ate some of my cold pasta from the evening before and was more than thankful that the only person in the breakfast room at 6am, a women at my age or even younger, saw me struggling with the duffle bag and pointed out she had seen a trolley near the hostel entrance. YES! I jogged with 29kg of luggage to the airport, pushing the trolley like a baby stroller.
The flight with Air Asia was alright, albeit unimpressive. I used the five-hour layover in Kuala Lumpur to go online and scoffing more cliff bars – the perfect energy source for vegans while traveling (if you think I sound like I am paid by that company – nope I am not but I recommend products for free if they convince me without reservations).
Patong (Phuket, Thailand) First Impressions: At the airport in Phuket, my first contact with locals was to ask a security guard for a pen to fill in the arrival card. Shortly later, I fished my luggage out of the conveyor belt area and passed the custom control without any interference. I immediately spotted my taxi driver, holding a piece of cardboard with my name. Due to his lack of English language, it was a nearly speechless ride to the hotel. Whatever the speed limit in Thailand is, I reckon, it is below 140km/h – the top speed we reached that night. Some bold maneuvers to overtake cars, scooters and lorries on the left lane as well as on the right lane made clear that Thai people regard traffic rules as vague recommendation rather than as an official regulation.
To enter the hotel, I had to overcome some steep stairs… – have I mentioned how exhaustive it is to carry my new duffle bag? To my surprise the owner was not a Thai but a guy from the UK, named Trev. He is unable to leave the house since five weeks, due to his leg put in a cast. He told me that he was exchanging a bulb at a friend’s place. Although he had asked his friend whether the electricity was shut down or not, it turned out that it wasn’t. Trev was electrocuted, fell off the ladder, broke both of his legs and some other bones. Now, for moving and getting up and down the stairs, he is crawling on his knees which looks a bit odd.
Trev is a very helpful guy. At the night of my arrival, he organized a scooter lift to an ATM for me and subsequently to a restaurant. Narin, Trev’s girlfriend who drove the scooter, talked to the waitress to make sure that my Pad Thai (basically a simple noodle dish) would be vegan. Since the hotel is a bit abroad from the beach and shopping malls, Trev offered me that whenever I would need a lift I should give him a call and he would arrange it.
My room is really nice and clean. The mattress is very firm. I couldn’t find any ants or cockroaches. I have plenty of space and a perfect view on Patong as mentioned earlier.
After my dinner at midnight, I was hoping to find a massage parlour where I could cure my pain a bit after a 16 hour lasting, strenuous journey. Most massage shops were already closed at that time but finally I found one which was still open. Woohoo! I went to bed at 3am (6am at Brisbane time) and got up again at 9am. The heat, the jet lag and the excitement to start the next chapter of my travel adventure didn’t let me rest peacefully for long.
Patong shares some similarities with Chiang Mai, but in terms of architecture, the differences are significant: bigger buildings and a smaller number of temples and more green. The tree covered hills around the town are like a belt. Also the beach, the main attraction for tourists in Patong besides the nightlife on Bangla Road, is lined with trees.
So far I like Patong, especially because it is still low season until the beginning of October. Less tourists means, less hectic, more individual treatment in shops and a bigger chance to make a snatch.
Yesterday, while walking to the beach and along the promenade, I had a Singapore flashback when about a dozen tailors tried to sell me a shirt or suit – or both. They were very persistent but most of the time polite. I had a good chat with one guy in his air-conditioned shop for 20 minutes, after telling him clearly that I would not buy anything, so he shouldn’t be disappointing afterwards. At least he signalized understanding and seemed to enjoy the talk as well.
The female counterparts to the tailors are the massage girls, desperately trying to convince me that I am in need of a wellness treatment right away. I probably said “Thank you” and “Khrop kun kap” (“Thank you” in Thai) more than hundred times and gave them a smile. Smiling is like wonder weapon in Thailand. With a smile you can get nearly everything – or in my case: avoid things without being abusive like massages, taxi services and buying suits.
My haul of yesterday’s walk into town consisted of an umbrella, (silver on the outside for sunlight reflection, and a with a green pattern on the inside) a pair of blue Nike Free shoes for 900 Baht (about €21.50 / AUD $31) and some groceries, including breakfast cereals and bread. The hotel staff supplied me with a plate, glasses, a sharp knife and a bowl. This increases my independence from going when I am lazy or simply yearn for classic European food. These little extras in hotel service are really appreciated by me.
More stories soon…I am über-hungry and run out of bottled water. Lagon Khrap
Chris
PS: Lost my way in Patong this late afternoon after walking for 10km and more. When I asked a massage girl for help, she discussed the matter with her friends for nearly ten minutes and consulted an older guy passing by. Even with the support of my Patong-Map and the hotel business card, she couldn’t figure out decisively which way she should send me. I had a theory but was fooled by the erroneous misbelief that she would know her town better than a tourist who arrived two days ago. She offered me a scooter lift. I agreed and advised her at an intersection to go right. She insisted that going left had to be the right choice. Like in Chiang Mai, many main roads only allow one-way traffic. In the end, we had to drive along the whole beach promenade before we could turn right to go back. After a 6-7 km ride we arrived at my hotel. If I had continued to follow the road instead of asking for help, I could have returned 20 minutes earlier, because the hotel was only about 500 metre distant to her massage shop! :-p Having said that, I am very pleased about the willingness of Thai people to help, not expecting anything in exchange.