We took the easy way out + rode into town on one of the taxi-trucks. At B15 it was impossibly expensive, but we were feeling lazy. We had travelled into town early so that we wouldn’t be in any rush, but in fact we erred on the side of caution, + were marooned in town with nothing to do – except eat – until 3.30 when the boat left. So eat is what we did. Breakfast, yogurt, hamburger, banana lassi – super wonderful. Val also bought herself a new T-shirt, a much needed + much urged acquisition, but it didn’t amount to a day’s worth of effort.
The boat journey was short, just half an hour or so – we sat on the roof, which was no cheaper but much pleasanter. When we arrived at the island, instead of pulling up at a dock, we were forced to transfer to 2 old + creaky lighters to carry us to shore. They were both very crowded + uncomfortable, + the transfer was precarious, but to add injury to insult, they then charged us an extra B3 each for the privilege. Waiting on the dock was a throng of people eager to snare the incoming travellers, + whisk them off to their particular bungalow. Hearing the name “OK”, I nodded my agreement to go with them – OK had advertisements in Na Thon on Ko Samui, + sounded alright, so I reckoned we might as well go to one I’d at least heard of.
Our transport there was bizarre in the extreme however – we were ushered over to one of a team of waiting motorcycles + drivers, + told to climb on. At the front was the driver, resting my heavy pack on his handlebars, then me behind him, + Val behind me, wearing her pack + sitting on the luggage rack. I’d often thought of Val riding pillion behind me, but never dreamed I wouldn’t be driving. It was a crazy ride – we hurtled along what was not much more than a narrow track thro’ the jungle, frequently being bounced off the seat, but always managing to come down again – he was a skilful driver, with what must have been an ungainly load. We were glad, finally, to arrive at OK – at first it had been huge fun, but soon enough, like most such experiences (long boat trips, aircraft flights) became tedious.
First impression of OK was disappointment – the restaurant + surroundings were shabbier than Chaweng, the beach was a mud-flat abandoned by the tide, the water rather murky. Gradually however, one was able to adjust. The place was certainly easy-going, + they had facilities around to spend the time enjoyably – free snorkelling gear, lorry inner-tubes, a sailing dinghy, even free coconuts. Our hut too was bigger, airier. We had only a light meal in the evening – after a day’s feeding we didn’t need more – + Val went off to bed quite early. I sat around, reading a little, then listening to the various conversations. I’ll confess my eyes pricked up – if eyes can do such things – when a bong was brought out, charged, + passed around first one table, then another, all quite openly (unsurprisingly, since I later discovered OK sell the stuff over the counter.) Eventually, after quite a bit of sitting there feeling sorry for myself, I introduced myself to an English-speaking table – if you see what I mean – just as they were re-charging their bong. They had no objections at all to my joining them, + tho’ the conversation did not sparkle – they were very stoned, + I soon joined them – at least there was a conversation, an exchange of information + ideas. Eventually, I managed to say goodnight + find our hut – no small achievement.
So, exchanging one form of hedonism for another – trippier (especially that motor-cycle ride!), less developed – noth that Ko Samui was overdeveloped at that time, but this was that bit more remote, closer to what it must have been like a few years previously. But obviously, with an even looser attitude to dope, I was quite happy.
