The Backpacking Housewife. Janice Horton

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СКАЧАТЬ the rest of Krabi province, and we all gasp at the sight of the picture-perfect utopia in front of us. The photos in my guidebook did no justice at all to the incredible beauty of this place.

      The soaring limestone cliffs look like giant fingers pointing into a cloudless blue sky.

      Having entered the protection of the bay, I see the water all around us is now a flat calm shimmering emerald green sheet of pristine clarity. Just ahead of us is the much-anticipated white-sand half-moon curved beach with its backdrop of lush green forest and swaying palm trees. Our boat takes us right up to the shore line, beaching itself so that we can all clamber out, straight into the calf-deep, bathtub-warm water that is gently lapping the soft powder white sand. I look around me. Happily, so far, the place doesn’t look too overcrowded or trashy.

      The boatman throws us our backpacks. I grab mine and trudge with everyone else up the beach until we reach a sand path between the low-lying buildings sitting under the palm trees.

      ‘Where shall we try first?’ I ask Summer, thinking the hotels on the beach looked very nice.

      ‘Oh, not here, Lori. Not for me anyway. These hotels are way above my budget.’

      I shrug it off. ‘Then they’ll be over mine too. I imagine this place is pricy, right?’

      Summer nods. ‘Right. If you stay on West Beach you’ll pay a fortune for the privilege of watching the sunset from your balcony when you could actually just watch it for free on the beach. But don’t worry, I’m sure there are places far less expensive further in.’

      ‘Okay. Let’s go. I’ll follow your lead,’ I say to her, trying to hide my concern over ending up in a shared dorm with one bathroom and with all the lads from the bus and the boat.

      As it is, on East Beach, just a five-minute walk away from the idyllic West Beach, while Summer checks out the shared hostel dorms, I find a pretty twin-bed wooden bungalow with private bathroom for rent. It’s double the cost of the hostel – but when I point out if we shared it would be the same price, Summer agrees it would be far nicer than the dorm.

      We decide to spend the rest of the day lazing on the beach. Summer wants to top up her tan and I’m hoping to develop one. Summer, looking the very definition of her name, is wearing a tiny white bikini on her tiny, toned and evenly suntanned body while I’m searching a local beach stall for a sun hat, a tube of factor thirty sunscreen, and a swimsuit.

      The hat is no problem but the sunscreen is ridiculously expensive and the swimsuits (bikinis as they don’t seem to do one-pieces) are all ridiculously small and nothing more than triangles of fabric and string.

      Eventually, I find one with large enough triangles and we head for the sand and the sea.

      The beauty of the enclave surrounding Railay beach is unreal.

      It’s so blissful to lie on the silky soft, white sand and feel the hot sun radiating over my body.

      I keep closing my eyes and then opening them again just to make sure I’m not dreaming.

      I see that Summer has gone off snorkelling with the lads. I watch them swim over to the rocks underneath the wrap-around cliffs. I can hear them whooping and shouting, ‘oh wow look – you gotta see this!’ I’m curious to wonder what they have seen in the water.

      Soon Summer comes running back up the beach to insist that I go snorkelling too.

      ‘Come on, Lori. It’s amazing. There are so many fish. It’s so beautiful – it’s like a tropical fish tank, and it’s so shallow and close to the rocks that you can stand up if you want.’

      As comfortable as I am sunning myself on the beach, Summer won’t take no for an answer and she is being so sweet to want to include me. It does look like fun. I reason with myself, that if I intend to learn to scuba dive then I really should try snorkelling first, so I agree to rent a snorkel and mask and join them.

      Well, from the very first moment I put my face into the water, I find I’m utterly spellbound.

      The sea is warm and clear. Below me, lying on the sandy seabed are starfish, and all around me there are tiny colourful fish. I’ve never seen anything like it.

      It’s like being in Finding Nemo. I float on the surface, with my face in the water and my arms and legs splayed out so I look like a starfish myself, watching all the fish darting about in the corals and rocks and sea grasses. It’s so fascinating that I soon forgot to panic about breathing through a narrow tube or getting a little bit of water in my facemask.

      I’d absolutely no idea that the underwater world could be this stunningly beautiful.

      I’ve watched Blue Planet, of course, but even that hadn’t done the real thing any justice.

      From above, I watch the underwater creatures going about their fishy business, looking for food, having little fights, falling in love, chasing bubbles and each other, and all the while being unaware of the crazy world of people who inhabit the land above them with their lives and loves and wars and politics. I decide that I’d much prefer to be part of their watery world than my complicated earth-y one. I swim up and down that rock face for I don’t know how long. I completely lose track of time. It’s so peaceful, so very tranquil and calming.

      Now I’m even more determined that while I’m on the islands I will learn to scuba dive.

      I’m sure there will be scuba diving schools on the next island of Koh Lanta, which is the first and the largest island in the chain that I plan to visit and explore. Once I get my dive certificate, I’ll be able to do even more scuba diving, and build up my experience and confidence in the water.

      Eventually, despite the expensive factor thirty sunscreen, I’m sure I’ve got rather too much sun on my back, and so I decide to head back up the beach. Summer and the boys are all lying flat out on the sand and in the sun but I know that I must find some shade. It has to be the hottest part of the day right now. But I see that all the palm tree shade has already been taken.

      I wander up and down the beach for a while, until I spot a just-vacated chair in the shade of a palm-thatched parasol and I run like a sprinter to plonk myself into it. It isn’t long before a hostess comes over to ask me what I’d like to order. It seems the seat comes with a price. I order an iced tea and it’s by far the most refreshing iced tea I’ve ever tasted and well worth the exorbitant cost.

      Later on, that same afternoon, spruced up for the evening and while Summer is taking her shower, I’m feeling mellow and reflective so I take a walk along the shoreline. The beach is quiet and the tide is going out. There are just a few families still building sandcastles with their kids now the sun had lost its burning intensity. A few local people are walking their dogs. The lads have invited both Summer and I to join them for sundowners on the beach tonight. I can see the bar owners at the top of the beach are getting ready by expanding their pitch and putting out beanbags and rugs and low tables on the beach in front of their bars. I imagine that I’ve been invited out of kindness and because Summer and I are travelling together. They clearly all have the hots for Summer, and must be at least a little furious at me for finding the only available bungalow on the beach – when they’d all had high hopes of sharing a dorm with her! I smile at foxing their plans. I do remember what it was like to be their age. Young and high on hormones, trying to fit in, desperate to fall in love.

      Even if it was a long time ago.

      Although, generally, СКАЧАТЬ