Phi Phi or Phoo Phoo

The 7:30 alarm found me struggling to roll out of bed. Torrents of rain smashed against the roof of our bungaloo and I was deeply dreading the trek back over the jungle mountain. Chad and I decided to postpone our departure as long as possible. The rain died down to a drizzle and eventually stopped. We packed our bags and headed for the beach. The sea was calm and we were fortunate enough to find a native who was willing to carry us on a boat around the island rather than having to climb over the mountain.

Climbing off the boat on the otherside of the island the shoulder strap of my backpack snapped. I nearly lost everything to the ocean, but thanks to my unparalleled strength I was able to miraculously save my luggage.

We spent the morning on boats travelling toward Kho Phi Phi, or Phi Phi Island (In Thai an "h" following a "p" is silent). I would have to admit that this island was even more stunning than the first one. The mountains were even greener, the beaches were whiter, the skies were bluer, and the water was clearer. Coming of the boat one could see the schools of fish playing in the deep. The island folk were quite friendly and Chad knew of a place to stay with a spectacular view.

That evening we enjoyed some Thai-style kick boxing. Most of the matches were between westerners. The fighters were given extra padding, to prevent serious injury, but there were still some pretty good punches thrown. A drunk Finnish fellow wanted to fight against me, but I politely declined. He ended up getting beaten pretty badly.

The trip back to Bangkok was a nightmare. Of course, the day you leave an area is always the most beautiful day. We were like children kicking and screaming while being dragged away from a toy store by their parents. Just as I walked out of the door of our lodgings another strap on my backpack broke. You might say it was the strap that broke the camel's backpack. (ok, that wasn't so good, I am still working on my puns). My clothes had become soaked by the humidity and nearly doubled the weight I had to carry. I heaved the mass onto my shoulder and worked my way down to the docks. I fell ill on the sea voyage back to the mainland. The sickness was mostly just a fever, swollen tonsils, dizziness, and weak muscles. The agony of the illness was only exacerbated once we climbed onto the bus to Bangkok.

Imagine, if you can, a group of smelly, sweaty, tired travellers packed onto a bus with little leg room and seats specially designed to create kinks in your back. Then to make matters worse the air conditioning fails. The ride was horrendous. Just as I was nearly asleep the bus would make another stop and everyone had to get out and wait for something to be fixed. The most ridiculous stop of all was at 2AM, when they told us to get out at a little restaurant where we were supposed to get something to eat. People aren't supposed to eat at 2 in the morning, but maybe they figured it was lunchtime in America, so they were trying to be considerate.

A little later in the morning my knees began to itch, then my arms and feet. I counted 10 mosquito bites. Upon arriving in Bangkok, I was tired, but decided to take a shower at the hotel we are staying at. The itching had grown worse and this time I counted no less than one hundred mosquito bites. After eating lunch, I did another count. By now my arms and legs were covered in little red itchy dots. The count exceeded two hundred! I couldn't believe it. I had been eaten alive!! We went to a local pharmacy where they prescribed some pills and cream, I will see how it goes. Each key I push on this keyboard is accompanied by an itchy sensation somewhere, which upon being appeased only make matters worse.
I suppose things will undoubtedly get better. Due to the incommodious nature of this leg of the trip, I feel it warrants a 4 of 10.