Time spent here on Koh Pi Pi is like a slow, tender crock pot roast: tons of flavors thrown together on a steaming island to create something colorful and comforting. Like soul food. It's something wonderful. Here, you'll find farangs of the world: Asian groupies with their matching red hats; gorgeous Aussie bromancers who audibly recount the misadventures of last night for all to hear; blonde Swedes with tans so dark, one can only chuckle at the mismatch of their bodily hues. Add a dash of the Thais for spice – they're more outspoken and wild down south than up in Bangkok, what with their banshee-like cackles as they weave frenetically on their dirt bikes through the tourist-ridden alleyways and quaint cobblestone streets. They remind me of American frat boys on spring break (or not). For a final touch, add a couple of couples. No, scratch that. Add a ton. Pi Pi screams romantic getaway.
Paralleling this eclectic mix of tourists is the food selection. Open-air Thai, Italian, Indian, and Mexican eateries light up the alleys with colorful stringy lights. There's a beautiful linguistic hum in these venues, a symphony of accented English, European, and Asian dialects woven together with Thai vendors in the background calling “Same, same!” or “Boat, boat!” to overwhelmed passersby, whose hands have been stuffed with club advertisements and deceptive flyers for “free buckets” (but the buckets only come with mixers – no alcohol. I speak from experience.) by club promoters, who are mostly 20-something ex-vacationers-turned-expats.
The island is bigger than I imagined. Though there are no cars and most every attraction is within walking distance, don't be fooled – the hills make you wish you could hire a motorbike to save the small amount of energy that the sun hadn't zapped from your sun-stroked bod as a result of lounging out the whole day.
The nightlife pulsates and rocks the island to its core. Fire-throwers and fire limbo and fire jump roping taunt, dare, and tease tipsy tourists to try them out. My heart was pounding as I tied my hair back to fire jump rope with my friend, Jenny, while at the beachfront Ibiza bar. It's something you'd think only young and stupid vacationers (ding ding) would get themselves into, but we witnessed many a balding farang join in on the fun – er, “fun.” That is, Jenny landed on the gasoline-drenched rope when I fell (...on the first jump. What, the sand was uneven and I was terribly nervous!). It burned her and left a welt. When another friend Emily tried, the jump rope landed on her shoulder and in her hair. Talk about FAIL – but amazingly, we all walked away unharmed. How a maternal person like myself would engage in such a risky act is beyond me, but the thought, “When in Thailand...” ruled. Anyway, Mom and Dad, I'm alive. Hair's still here. Don't ferry out to come fetch me. Oh, and for the record, I was sober (I know, I know, I'm such a BAMF).
The ferry that we did take to get to Pi Pi, however, was preceded by a one-hour plane trip from Bangkok to Phuket via Orient Thai Airways. Linnea was worried about flying with them because she found out that they're blacklisted by the EU for breaching safety regulations – which is probably why the flight was so cheap – but it was honestly fine. We stayed a few nights in Phuket on Patong Beach before reaching Pi Pi, and in all honesty, Patong is one of the trashiest places I've ever been. I might have enjoyed it more if I were interested in dirty clubs, packed streets lined with Lady Boys, and a mediocre beach with water activities that broke my puny bank, but unfortunately none of the aforementioned apply to me. At least the hotel was nice.
(they love the glow-in-the-dark paint on Pi Pi!)I only wish we could have checked on the Pi Pi hotel reservations before booking with TAT, which placed us for four nights at Maney Resort – which was not a resort by any means whatsoever. People tend to think that everything at vacation destinations are nice, but that's not true at all. We had to walk up dark hills and climb dangerous steps, through the thick of island vegetation, to get to Maney, its tagline of which was inscribed on its wooden sign that plead: “Come here please” (Imagine our nervous chuckle when we read that). Our bungalow was perilously perched above a dirt mound, the stairs to the entrance of which were wooden planks haphazardly shoved into the unwilling earth. Once inside our bungalow, we were greeted by mosquitoes (courtesy of the crappily made wooden door) and a semi-outdoor bathroom that wrecked of burnt sewage. Our friend who stayed with us there for a night even saw a mouse in the bathroom. Isn't that cute.
Despite our conditions (which apparently weren't too horrendous, according to our friends who stayed at a different place – “You have A/C?!”), nothing could have spoiled the absolute beauty of the island. Though I wasn't fond of the tourists, Pi Pi shines in its aesthetic splendor: majestic and somewhat frightening rocks jut out of the perfectly turquoise water. Schools of baby fish swim by your feet. Book an all-day boat tour, like we did, and you'll get the chance to explore seven highlights that surround the island, including an incredible, incredible cove; Maya Bay, which was featured in the movie, “The Beach”, staring Leonardo DiCaprio; and a monkey island (which we weren't too impressed by, considering our Lopburi adventure. Geez, we're getting spoiled by exotic animals. In fact, as a lady was parading her leashed sloth around Pi Pi, Linnea and I just rolled our eyes, as if to say, “Enough, lady. Been there, done that.”).
True, I was very disappointed by the snorkeling and the boat trip was a tiring, all-day event (though cheap!), I am still glad to have had the opportunity to see these sights. As the perfect ocean breeze whipped through my hair, I stared out into the ocean throughout the day and thought about how some people only dream about visiting these slices of paradise, and here I was in this wooden boat, zipping around the fabled islands of Thailand without much care in the world. I felt so blessed to be there, as time stood still and I was put in my place by Nature's wonders.
New Year was spent on the beach at Ibiza bar with other CIEE friends. I had the time of my life, dancing barefoot in the sand, under the full moon, with fireworks lighting up the sky and reflecting in the endless black ocean. I thought about how this past year, and throughout my life, really, I have traveled so much and have had many of these nights, where I'd felt like I couldn't be happier in life than in that present moment in time. And in the days that followed, as Linnea and I lounged on Pi Pi's Long beach, or as I blissfully surrendered to an oceanfront coconut-oil massage, I tried so hard to focus my thoughts on the present; to soak in and appreciate all the simple pleasures of the moment: the mountain peaks; the fresh coconut shake in my hand; the colorful shells I had collected when I went kayaking; the simply but classily written Hemingway book I was reading; the new Israeli friends we'd met on the plane who we'd ran into and played games with on the beach; the sunsets I'd witnessed. Oh, the sunsets. Forever will these images, thoughts, and sensations stay imprinted in my mind.
Look, Pi Pi isn't perfect, and I realized that with the help of our terrible accommodation, but what can you expect from an island that has been rebuilding itself after being positively destroyed by the tsunami five years prior? If you've read my previous posts, you'll know that I'm in love with an island called Koh Samet, which is closer to Bangkok, about four hours away by bus. I adore Samet because it has a this welcoming, non-menacing, soft vibe. Its beauty is like the girl next door. Pi Pi's beauty is different, though, with its jaw-dropping scenery, making it like some sort of an intimidating goddess that you're afraid yet compelled to approach. In mythology, it'd be Helen, perhaps. Or the Sirens. Like, so beautifully captivating, but entirely capable of destroying, or worse, being destroyed, if its power were unleashed. I sure hope Pi Pi doesn't fall to the hands of extreme tourism.
Anyway, thanks for reading this long one. Pi Pi was good to me.
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