It's 6am and the Hemidactylus frenatus (house Gecko), that's shared my room for the night wakes me with a chirping sound; it’s almost like kissing teeth in quick succession. I can't find it – not that I want to, I'm happy for it to eat mozzies around my room while I slumber.
After breakfast, it’s time to give the rented moped a try. I’ve never ridden one before, but I’m told by my expert motorcyclist sister that it’ll be easy. And easy it is indeed: Lift the kickstand, hold one of the brakes on and press start. Twist to go forward, let go to engine-brake. The rest is identical to cycling. A sense of freedom that I've not experienced since selling my car was immediate upon pressing that start button. Stating that an automatic moped is an easy drive is a gross understatement – though if you do twist hard with your right hand, the speedo dial will pass 50 in no time at all.
My plan was to visit a national park and navigate in a hybrid fashion of old and new. This involved using my watch’s GPS compass along with asking locals. In fact there was no need for either, as soon enough after stopping and retrieving my map, we're greeted by a local fellow biker who offers to lead the way. A quick glance at each other and a nod decides that we’ll take him up and we follow, at distance. It’s awful being this cynical – the chap was as honest as can be and gave us all the help we could possibly have asked for.
These roads put the UK to shame. I can run my hand across the surface and it's as smooth as cotton. Not a sign of a pothole anywhere, it's an invigorating drive through jungle on either side as we head up towards the Khao Phanom Bencha National Park.
En route there's a cave or two to pass by, which necessitate some care when entering. The guide loans us a torch each for a pound. That's a lot to her and she's so keen for the business, that we are told any and everything there is to know about the region. The first cave is a steep climb, so much so that I end up on all fours. Further ahead I'm looking for a hold to reach with my right hand. Noticing a large red rock formation looking good for grip, my hand passes through it and the emerging termites declare war as they swarm.
I hadn't noticed the two hand-sized spiders looming above, and with that I think I'm done. It's like something from an Indiana Jones film – though I’d be far happier running from a large foam ball and I don’t carry a whip. Dodging the Elephant excrement (the size of footballs), it’s on to the waterfalls.
This is picturesque stuff. On arrival I notice a PeaCock strutting around. Making a rainbow movement with my hands, he responds admirably by opening his plumage on demand. Striking a pose, it’s as if he knows I want a shot of him.
Entrance is £2.40 and setting the moped down, it’s a mile hike to the waterfalls. The map shows a circular route, so I decide it’s an idea to circumnavigate and attack it like a trek. The climb up the waterfall is not only treacherous but also demanding – I’m grateful for having climbed for almost a year. On arrival at the Pool of Life at the top, a guide informs us there is no continuous route – it’s back the way we came. Climbing up is easy, descending is even more tricky.
At the bottom I spot a family gathering around for a picnic lunch. I’ll generally ask permission when taking photos, and once I’ve fired the shutter, the father points to an empty space offering me lunch. It’s a lovely gesture, but I’m not hungry; “khorb koon kup” I say, smiling as I leave.
Back at Ao Nang it seems about time to indulge in a foot massage. This is appropriate Thai stuff and after the tickling sensation has subsided, I’m in awe as to the strength of my 4’5” masseuse. I’m sure there are more sleazy massages on offer in other shops, but the American bar owner opposite assures me that this is “the best in town”. And I can’t stress enough how relaxed and rejuvenated I was after the experience; I’ll be going back for the full monty tomorrow.
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