Day 100

Most of the time (read: all of the time. Except when we have a very important (read: expensive) bus, train or boat to catch) we have no idea what day it is, nor what time it is. We try to live somewhat according to the sun, wake up when it's been light for a couple hours (term used very loosely here), go to sleep when it's been dark for a couple of hours. In between we mostly eat. (However, none of this applies when in Big Cities. Then we usually don't sleep at all, or only when it's light outside (presumably daytime). Luckily this does not interfare with The Eating, since most Big Cities have 24/7 veg restaurants. Double parenthesis is the new black.)

Now we've come so far from where this blog post was originally going, that I think we should start all over again.
Most of the time we have no idea what day it is, nor what time it is. One thing we always know (at least after checking the camera, which keeps count for us) is how many days we've been traveling. Today, the 13th of January, 2011, is Day 100 of our journey.
So, where are you spending Day 100? you might ask. And this question is a quite appropriate one, since we haven't updated the blog for a couple days. You might have come to the conclusion (if you are one of the few ones to even notice we haven't updated...hello mom) that we must be somewhere thouroughly uninteresting, not worth writing about. The fact that the most common cause of death here, wherever here is since I still have failed to tell you, is getting hit by a coconut, could support your line of though. Nothing probably ever happens here, wherever here is.
But you couldn't be more wrong. The island which is 'here' offers immense opportunities of activity... smaller islands scattered all around just waiting for your visit, jungle trails to trek, waterfalls to swim in, turtles to take care of as a volunteer, corals to snorkel above, shipwrecks to scuba dive to, waves to surf, rocks to climb...
...none of this during the monsoon, of course.

And this so happens to be the monsoon season.
And we love it.

The boat ride out here was worse than a bus ride in Cambodia - the sanitary bags were see-through. The three hour boat ride was however also a lot more fun than a bus ride in Cambodia, and we'd turn up the volume on our ipods (to block out the sound of people throwing up), dab more Tiger Balm under our nostrils (to block out the smell) and stare at the horizon, feeling a little guilty when singing along and laughing at how well Florida's and Kesha's song 'Right Round' describe the state our fellow passengers are in, the boat being what's going 'down' this time. (Train and bus rides in Asia make you well prepared for situations like this... I just hope that someone would teach the locals some simple motion sickness survival tips, none of them being 'don't eat, look down, lay down on the floor, close your eyes, close the window, don't look out....')
The boat did, to our great surprise, not 'go down' and when arriving at the jetty even the storm subsided and made it possible for us to enjoy yet another amazing ride - now on the back-loader of a 4x4, and instead of waves crashing over us we now had incredible jungle and a vehicle driving up and down way to steep hills, way too fast. This, while we're trying to hold on and watch out for every branch and leaf who seemed to have set out to get us.

When we first arrived at our Paradise, it was raining. I supposed that's what it's supposed to do during the monsoon, and couldn't have cared less. This was OUR Paradise.
That's when we noticed something funny - at the crowded tourist beaches of Krabi, we'd encounter lots and lots of Swedes, all claiming it their paradise, and seemingly undisturbed by all the other tourists. We were very disturbed by them.
Now we found the perfect empty Paradise, almost all to ourselves, then who do we meet? A couple of other Finns. And a german couple. Apparently us Finns are drawn to places we can have all to ourselves, unlike our social neighbors. Even if having a beach to yourself means having a very rainy beach to yourself.

Or so we thought. Ever since the first day we've had sunshine and weather that can, hands down, compete with the weather in Krabi anytime. Gets a bit cloudy in the evenings, but so it did in Krabi, and we are grateful... What was first mistaken for a nice tan seems to have developed in to something a tad red-ish. But that's what happens when people tell you it's the monsoon and you'll get rain, thunder and lightning and it turns out to be a lie, probably made up by someone (a Finn?) who likes empty beaches as much as we do.

What is there do here then, it still, theoretically, being the monsoon? you might wonder now.
 Well, not much. I usually wake up, put my bikini on, go for a swim, put a t-shirt on, eat breakfast in one of the few places that hasn't closed because it's off season (that's four places, and they all have the same menu), take my t-shirt off, and then read my book in the hammock, tied between two palm treas, until it gets too hot and I go for a swim/jump in the waves again. Then perhaps I go for a walk along the beach, still in shock that we have this long beach, with perfectly white sand, fringed with palm treas and surrounded by hills coverd in lush jungle, all to ourselves. No one else to be seen except a couple local kids playing in the water, shouting 'hello' as I pass. Of course there are the germans on the next beach, surf beach, and more tourists on the other side of the island. But this, this is Our Paradise. And then we eat a couple times more.
Sounds boring? Great. I'm almost happy I'm not able to rock climb or dive or snorkel... because then I'd feel bad about not doing so, when all I want is to do... nothing. And enjoy the pretty scenery as I do so.
The only thing there is to do it so surf, but lately the waves have been 'too, too crazy... my board snapped in two today!', for the only surfing instructor there is, to want to give us a lesson. Well, we'll just hope we're natural talents then, said we, and rented a board and carried it to our beach where the waves are less crazy.
Turns out we aren't natural talents at surfing.

Despite all that I've written, and the fact that you may still be giggling when thinking of people dying because they get hit by a coconut (we know you are, since we find the fact that people at home are dying from snow falling of the roof slightly hilarious... snow? Absurd.) I think this island sometime has too much action for it's own good. After nearly being killed (or at least getting a slight headache) by a falling coconut right outside our bungalow door (we are, of course, the only residents in the 'resort' called Last Paradise) and only hours before that learning an important lesson about listening to the locals... if they tell you the waves are too, too crazy and the currents strong, don't go for a late evening swim with Sophia because 'the waves look so cool'!
The waves don't look so cool when you've been trying to reach the shore (or at least a patch of sand to stand on, just for a little while) for over half an hour, with waves constantly washing over you, pushing you down, and making you wonder what way is up. When you figure it out, and manage to reach 'up', you take a big gulp of air... only to discover that the next Huge Wave has already hit you, and you instead took a big gulp of very salty water. Cough, cough, gasp, gasp, okay where's the shore? Oh, even further away. Splendid. Swim, swim. Hanna: Should we just give up? Like lay on our backs to save energy? Sophia: dive! That can only mean one thing... and you turn around to see yet another Huge Wave coming towards you. Great. Not so cool anymore.
Luckily said locals also have surfboards they decide to come and rescue you with. Though they where too late. Not as in the late Hanna and Sophia, but we finally managed to reach shore... the trick is not to swim against the current as the friendly germans pointed out. Ha.

So, despite all this immense action, we're all still alive, although more or less comatose after all this doing nothing-ness, and can therefor celebrate our 100th day today! How we'll do it, we don't know, since there is no one (except for the germans on the next beach) to celebrate it with. Sophia is suggesting a bonfire on the beach and drinking this soda they sell here in the store called '100'. Ruut is suggesting we buy lots of food as well.
The store seems to have closed though, so we will see what happens... for now, however, I think I've rambled too much for even my mom to rad this, and we actually have something important to do, one of the few important things there is to do here (make it anywhere): eat.

But wait, you haven't yet told us where you are! you might exclaim. (especially if you are my mom, and, against all odds, still reading)
Well, I'm not sure I should tell people this, since this is Our Paradise, and maybe it's some sort of code amongst us Finns that this is our secret?
However, if the coconut actually hits me next time, or I am too tired to try to swim towards the shore for yet another half an hour before the locals on the beach realize I'm not swallowing all that salt water for kicks, or I fail to duck when the branch swings towards me while standing in the backloader thinking I'm way cool, or the boat actually does sink on the way back to mainland... I want you to know that I died at extreemly beautiful Juara Beach, Tioman Island. Also known as, Our Paradise.
Or 'here' as I referred to it in the beginning.


The sea faking calm-ness for the picture and the killer coconut tree - The view when you open our bungalow (or cabana?) door.
Later Ruut managed to open the coconut with a stone and we had a delicious snack, while pretending we where on a deserted island. Which is almost true.

//H