We took a day trip out to Phi Phi Island today. This for me was a return trip for me, because a little over four years ago, just before I met my girlfriend I had gone there on holiday on my own. If you've read "How Not To Grow Up" (or indeed this blog) then you might remember something of that trip. It was a bit of a decompression chamber in my complicated life at the time and gave me time to think about how things were going for me. The blogs
start here, but the book has a more thoughtful and complete write up if you're interested.
Anyway it felt significant to be returning with the woman who was so instrumental in turning my life around. She's amazing and even if the baby Amanda Peet threw herself at me I'd tell her to fuck off. But in the end there was little crossover between then and now as we got nowhere near the hotel I'd stayed at and I'd done next to nothing except eat satay and drink beer on that holiday. I did briefly think of the member of staff from that hotel who had gently mocked me for writing in a note book all the time. I had said I might write about her and she looked shocked and appalled at the idea. I said I would't really. But I then did write about her in the book, but of course, she will never know about that and no one would be able to recognise her from it to tell her of her mild moment of fame. Even if she was still working there I don't think I'd be able to recognise her now.
Last time I went to Phi Phi I had to wait for hours at a lonely dock for the ferry to arrive, this time I was on a speed boat with twenty or so other tourists, which made things faster. I remembered trying to fight off sleep as we slowly cruised through the fog last time, but this time the sky was clear and the boat was jumping over the sea. It was hard to see out from where we were seated, but islands that had looked spooky shrouded in mist in 2007 were now fully visible, though still familiar from that trip.
For some reason in my head I was singing the chorus of the theme tune to a TV show from the 70s that I'd totally forgotten about (and couldn't remember any details of, apart from this one refrain) - The Lost Islands. Having now YouTubed it
I can remember a bit more about the theme tune though not the show. Looks amazing though! I think it might be where the people who came up with Lost got their idea. They could have changed the name a bit more.
We zoomed around the islands, doing a bit of snorkelling and sitting on some beaches and managing more sight seeing in a day than I had done in 11 days last time. I liked our guide who was adept at his patter and had lots of tried and tested jokes like "Don't worry about the sharks - you don't have to worry about the sharks, because all the sharks have been eaten by the crocodiles!" He would give a little pause after each joke and then hold up his hand and say, "Joking. Joking." I thought he could probably do quite a good act on the circuit with this schtick and his catchphrase. But he worked the crowd well, doing the odd risque bit about ladyboys (the blue flippers were for the men, the yellow for the women or one of each for the ladyboys), but let us know he was joking by saying, "Joking, joking" afterwards. In his own little club of this speedboat he was an expert performer - I particularly liked the way that at the end he picked on a quiet man next to me and kept asking him if he had enjoyed the trip. Returning to him at perfect intervals during his closing monologue. He was a pro.
As much as I enjoyed jumping in a lagoon that Leonardo di Caprio had filmed nearby to and seeing these impressive beaches and cliffs and caves, I also love the people watching on holidays. The girl who was sitting opposite us on the boat had been tired all day and snoozed whenever she could. On the trip back she fell asleep again and a towel tied above her was flying around due to the motion of the boat and hitting her in the face over and over again. But she slept on, almost seeming to move into the towel as she snoozed. I wondered what she was dreaming. It was as fascinating to watch as anything else on the trip. Being on holiday, when it's good, can get a bit trippy I suppose (is that why it's called a trip? - I suppose one way or another it is) - you become relaxed enough to observe the minutiae.
We went out to the front of the boat for one jaunt and I was enjoying the speed and the sunshine. Suddenly the boat swerved to the right and carried on in a circle - it was quite exciting, but I didn't know if we were crashing or stopping for some emergency. As it happened my girlfriend's cap had flown off her head into the sea and they were stopping to retrieve it. What drama!
As it turned out there was no significance to the return to the Lost Islands of Phi Phi, but it was nice to revisit the ghost of that slightly lost Richard Herring and to let him know that in four years he'd be back and be happy and have a girlfriend. She might not be able to keep her hat on on a fast moving boat, but apart from that she's pretty amazing (and to be honest the boat veering off to collect it was something I was glad to have experienced).
There was a man videoing the whole trip and you could buy that on DVD if you wanted (we didn't really fancy it - it would be odd to have a video of us with all these strangers and I don't think he captured the bit with the dreaming lady being hit by a towel), but as the camera focused on us for the tenth time my girlfriend leant across and whispered "if we get killed in the next couple of days then this is the footage they will use on the news." I said it would freak out any lip readers if they did. If only I could let the ghost of me of 2007 know he would meet this brilliant woman. But he doesn't have long to wait. Tonight I watched the sunset and I wasn't eating satay on my own.
