If a Stevie Falls in the Forest

Does it make a sound?

In our last entry the Steves and I were leaving the tropical paradise of Koh Samui for the dense jungle of Chiang Mai. We signed up for two days of ziplining, elephant riding, mountain biking, white water rafting and bar hopping. We succeeded in all but the latter.

There were only three things between us and these extreme adventures: Bangkok Airways, Thai Elections and Dengue Fever.

Bangkok Airways, the self-proclaimed boutique airline in Asia, was superb. Although Lang encountered issues since he had misplaced his Visa credit card somewhere in Hong Kong, Bangkok Air really plays up its brand. From “Asia’s Boutique Airline Lounge” for all seating classes—we ate breakfast four times on our journey to Chiang Mai, twice on each leg of the flight and in both airports—to the remote domestic destinations it flies to the preflight announcements where, even when the flight attendant announces the flight plan in Thai (he did in English, too), he says “Asia’s Boutique Airline” in English then resumes Thai.

Next were the Thai elections. Last year, when results were announced riots broke out and 90 protestors were killed. An equally contentious election this year, we were slightly worried. What if all the pilots went on strike? What if Bangkok overnight turned into Syria or Lebanon or Egypt or Yemen or Libya or…? What if the military backed incumbent kidnapped American tourists in Thailand? Well, Thai voters decisively and democratically elected their first female prime minister. Of all elections to be fixed, the one where the first female is elected clearly isn’t one of them. The incumbent conceded and congratulated Ms. Yingluck. Phew.

Last was Dengue Fever. We’re not sure what Stevie has, but with his spirits high we’re confident it’s not the bubonic plague. Unfortunately, this would cut Steve’s adventure in Chiang Mai short as he was bedridden day two here. Get well soon!

Obstacles aside, we woke up at 4am for our Chiang Mai flight and by 9am we were there ready for Jungle Flight—Chiang Mai’s premier ziplining experience. We met our two tour guides for the afternoon affair. Surprisingly, the first introduced himself as Mr. Boston. Unsurprisingly, he claimed to be from Massachusetts. He introduced us to our other tour guide, known only as Boston’s father in law. We also met a guide named Miami. Apparently he’s as knowledgeable about the Heat as Marcos Perez.

Boston, clearly from the village this excursion takes place, is Spiderman. He jumped from B52s in the military and ziplines as flawlessly as Spiderman navigates the Chicago skyline. Safety is of utmost importance when a carabineer is the only thing between you and the trees 50-120 meters below you. So when Stevie asked the guy adjusting his equipment who spoke no English whether it was safe and his friend responded, “of course, it’s his first day,” our fears escalated. We made our way to the first platform where Boston gave us our safety tutorial. Afterward, we waited for about five minutes as Boston was on his walkie talkie.

Boston quietly: “(Speaking Thai) mayday, mayday (more Thai)”

Us: “Uhh…what’s Mayday?”

Boston: “Oh nothing, just due to the rain, the tree on the second platform may fall at any moment”

Us: “What?”

[Awkward two minute pause]

Boston: “I’m kidding! We’re waiting for a couple more people.”

Sometimes it’s okay when they don’t speak English very well.

Ultimately, Jungle Flight was extremely safe and professional. At all moments, we were either attached to the tree on the platform or the zipline. You would have to go out of your way to fall. If you’ve never ziplined before, do it! You are offered an unparalleled view of the jungle and the surrounding mountains. The longest line we went on was 300 meters platform to platform. To put you in the moment, imagine going to a professional football game where the stadium is three times as long and you’re 100 meters above it zooming across the field ESPN 360-game-camera-style on a one inch wide tight rope.

We bowed out early for the night to prepare for day two in Chiang Mai sans Stevie. Lang and I first took an hour long elephant ride. There’s no way our 360 pounds can be comfortable for the elephant, but our elephant Pho Nanh was always satisfied with the bamboo sized sugarcane treats we fed him. Joining our tour was two friendly Irish women who rode a female elephant. An elephant with a similar Thai name to Pho Nanh, Tessa ate all grass, trees and sugar canes in her path.

A stark contrast to the casual elephant-back ride was the challenging mountain bike ride. Our first 100 meters of the trip were through a muddy, quicksand like, elephant and oxen dung filled moat. While we could have started where our path (a road) starts, the mud added character to our shoes, clothing and faces. We were surprised to find out that leg two of our journey was coincidentally leg 15 of the Tour De France. Although the only other bikers on the road where motorcyclists (and a few babies riding shotgun), we scaled a mile long uphill mountain. In the brochure, the pictures of this part of the tour were filled with smiles of riders on durable mountain bikes. We, however, were using Soviet brake pad free mountain bikes. Even our tour guide had never taken this route before. Needless to say, we didn’t earn the yellow jersey upon arriving to home base for lunch.

Following a classic Caribbean soul food fried chicken and rice lunch, we were off to the Moon River for a two hour white water rafting journey. Having traveled during the rainy season, we knew we were in for a ride not to mention the fact none of us (there were 12 split into three boats) had ever white water rafted, let alone on Class 4 (of 6) rapids.

Each boat was equipped with a captain and our boat consisted of Lang, two girls from Sawrey (outside London) both named Emily and me. The English speaking guide offered a comprehensive tutorial to both educate and scare us. We learned commands such as forward, backward, get down, back to work, right and left. The latter was only used in one circumstance. In the calmest of waters, our captain yelled LEFT! Everyone shifted to the left side of the boat and our captain capsized it sending us all in the water. Don’t any of you remember that the second time a new marine crosses the equator he’s hurled into the water? An oversized bug caused our second traumatic experience when it landed in our raft. Emily shrieked and jumped into the other Emily while Lang instinctively reacted jumping onto my side of the raft and jabbing his knee on my paddle. Another close call, we were back on our feet ready to conquer the rapids. While we were the C team on the river—our captain and the kayaking spotters constantly laughed at us—we were as perseverant as the Little Engine That Could. At one point, we took on enemy fire as fellow rafters splashed us. We simply paddled away; sometimes you just have to be the bigger boat.

Exhausted and back at the hotel, we had a few hours to relax before meeting up with our fellow rafters for drinks. In this night, we discovered the top three ways American tourists get sent to a Thai prison.

3. Placing a bet with the wrong guy at Muay Thai boxing

2. Not paying your Tuk Tuk driver 60 Bhat ($2)

As we mentioned, we had planned to meet the people from the tour at a bar named “The Wall.” After minor research we found the location of the bar online; it was on the bottom floor of a hotel in Old City. Our first Tuk Tuk driver, seeing the word “hotel,” took us to a hotel. 0 for 1. Our second Tuk Tuk driver didn’t understand the social concept of meeting friends at a bar and kept trying to take us to bars in general (strip bars, karaoke bars and strip karaoke bars). Upfront, we told him we’re not paying unless we get to our destination. We made three laps around the city and ended our journey within 50 meters of our pick up. We refused to pay the 60 Bhat so he cursed us off (we think). You may find us on Thailand’s most wanted. 0 for 2. Ultimately we found a large brick wall in Old City that lacked a bartender, the Irish girls, Emilys and British Fellas we were looking for. Strike three.

Irish girls, Emilys, British Fellas: If you’re reading this, we tried! We even went to the outdoor sushi stands in the market because you mentioned you had been there the night before!

1. Purchasing alcohol the only day it’s banned.

We’ve been in Southeast Asia for three weeks without encountering so much as one law, rule or even suggestion, until now. We happened to be in Thailand on the one day alcohol was not for sale. Since the national elections were controversial last year, the government wanted to minimize political unrest by limiting alcohol consumption. It had been a long day and we were hoping to relax with a Chang beer. We entered 7-Eleven. No dice. If beer isn’t for sale at bars, it’s not for sale at convenience stores. We then traveled less than a block to another 7-Eleven. This attendant didn’t get the memo. We purchased a couple beers to take back to the hotel. I was worried this may have been a Chris Hanson sting operation (too soon?) and we would be swarmed by Thai police and spend the fourth in prison. No police in sight, we enjoyed our final few hours in Chiang Mai.

Happy Fourth of July everyone!

We’ll be back in the states in a couple days. Expect one final post!

Operation Koh Samui

Oh Jack talk Thai. Jack talk Thai very well.

You may remember “Operation Koh Samui” from that scene at the end of Meet the Parents when Ben Stiller gets kicked out of the house, right before we learn that his real first name is Gaylord. Koh Samui is the tropical island where Robert DeNiro arranged for the suprise honeymoon in Meet the Parents. Having loved that movie, Koh Samui was the natural choice for our second honeymoon of the trip.

Our first day on Koh Samui was spent at the beach, kayaking, exploring and recovering from our previous night in Bangkok. While we were floating around in the crystal clear, coral filled water of the Gulf of Thailand, a vendor selling an assortment of balls and Frisbees appeared on the distant beach with the largest grin known to mankind. Looking to make a few Baht off some tourists, Ballman solicited us to shore by tossing a red football over his head and dancing around back and forth on the beach.

I was born and raised in Stony Brook, NY, a quaint university town on Long Island. That University is Stony Brook University, a fairly unknown state university with a football team that even the most avid college football fan has probably never heard of. I couldn’t be much further from home right now; Koh Samui is over 9000 miles away and would require a ferry, a bus, three flight changes and at least a 30 hour journey to get to back to eastern Long Island. That’s why when I saw that one of the two footballs that grinning Ballman was selling was a red Stony Brook Seawolves branded mini-football I couldn’t help but to laugh. A lot of things we have seen here simply don’t make sense but this one takes the cake for me. He looked at me and starting laughing as well, even though it was clear he had no idea what was going on.

We spent the remainder of the day walking around the main strip and ended with a great dinner. I ordered the shark, Jeff a 15oz steak, and Lang the Land, Sea, and Air Combo for Two featuring eight different animals and a plate that had to weigh at least three pounds.

The night ended abruptly as an island disease hit me hard and suddenly after dinner. After running a 103 fever all night with all too many symptoms of dengue fever, I checked into the Samui International Hospital, conveniently located next to our luxury resort.

When I was teaching in a remote Andes Mountain village atop a 14,000 foot peak in Peru two summers ago, I foolishly left my window open one night. The temperature during the day at the time was a pleasant 60 degrees. At night the temperature would drop down to the low teens, and the lack of heat, electricity, and hot water made the bitter cold inside my mud made house painfully uncomfortable, even under several layers of locally made alpaca sweaters. Waking up to an open window, a freezing room, and a mild case of hypothermia, I headed down to the local hospital, a one room tiled hut adjacent to the church at one end of town. The doctor laid me down and proceeded to use the ancient Incan language Quechua to chant healing prayers while rolling an egg back and forth on my forehead. Although I did feel better later that day, modern medicine tells me that the doctor’s method in curing my ailment was probably misguided.

My world tour of remote location hospitals continued yesterday. (Un)Fortunately, no ancient prayer or medieval medicine was practiced this time. Simply a quick flip on my stomach and the Thai-nurse-version of Brian McNamee greeted my backside with a steroid injection. The young Thai nurse administering the shot giggled the entire time as I gave a little yelp at the pain of the unexpected pinch. Maybe she had never seen someone ask three times to ensure that the shot didn’t include penicillin, which is the only thing I am devastatingly allergic to. Perhaps it was just the fact that no rear end as white as the full moon which they celebrate monthly has ever been exposed in that hospital. Either way, it was amusingly unprofessional.

I slept in for the next 18 hours while Jeff and Steve spent the day at the beach. After awakening from hibernation and feeling a hundred times better, I found Jeff and Steve and we headed to the local stadium to watch a Muay Thai boxing match. Muay Thai is the national sport of Thailand and is basically their version of mixed martial arts. Blood is often spilled before each fight is over, usually by knockout. We sat ringside among the rowdy island people who bet on every match. In one, Jeff bet on the clear blue corner favorite against a mustached local and, as the local betting population got rowdier, we were all, Jeff included, relieved when Jeff's fighter didn't win.

Every night there are also "Special Fights" which may include such matches as young children, Little People and a blindfolded free-for-all with many contestants. On our night they had a match between two girls and a match between a local champion and a British guy named Tim. Tim didn’t do so well.

While the bathroom attendants in Cambodia gave a very awkward yet relaxing shoulder massage while we stood at the urinals, the bathroom attendants at Chaweng Beach Stadium on Koh Samui, Thailand took it to the extreme. Lang had strained his neck badly while kayaking the previous day and had spent the past 36 hours complaining that he “couldn’t turn left”. Despite many stretches and painkillers, it was a struggle for him tilt his head upward to watch the boxing matches. He returned from the bathroom midway through the third match of the night with a huge grin on his face, saying “that easily had a 30% chance of paralyzing me for life, but I feel great now!”

While relieving yourself in the co-ed bathroom in Chaweng Beach Stadium, a warm towel is applied to the back of your neck. Afterward, while at the sink, a cold towel is rubbed over your face, arms, chest, and back. Then a full on chiropractic treatment is given as the bathroom attendants (who I am sure have completed extensive years of chiropractic schooling), realign your neck, back and shoulders with some of the loudest cracks you’ll ever hear. They topped it off by cracking your earlobes—who knew?

Well rested from our island retreat, we are off to a two day adventure tour in the Northern Thailand jungle in the mountains of Chiang Mai. The tour includes white water rafting, rainforest canopy zip lining, elephant riding, waterfall scaling, hiking, and exploring a wild tiger kingdom. Stick with us as we head toward the final stretch of our trip.