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{"id":2038,"date":"2018-02-17T07:59:05","date_gmt":"2018-02-17T07:59:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lifeabirdseyeview.com\/?p=2038"},"modified":"2018-02-17T10:35:37","modified_gmt":"2018-02-17T10:35:37","slug":"the-thai-diaries-phi-phi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/lifeabirdseyeview.com\/2018\/02\/the-thai-diaries-phi-phi.html\/","title":{"rendered":"The Thai Diaries: Phi Phi (3\/6)"},"content":{"rendered":"

23rd January<\/h3>\n

After breakfast and bidding fond farewells to our lovely hosts (half the hotels we stay at on this trip are run by a European guy and his Thai wife) we take a minibus to the pier. The 45-minute bus journey plus two-hour ferry ride is 350 baht each (about eight quid). Despite being pretty well organised, boarding the ferry becomes a bun-fight, as nobody seems able to grasp the (apparently alien) concept of q-u-e-u-e-i-n-g. Highly annoying. Being terribly British, we refuse to push in…and are subsequently shoved out of the way by a bunch of Scandi Neanderthals who\u2019ve clearly been sharpening their elbows all morning especially. Grrr!<\/p>\n

\"The
Phi Phi bound!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Samantha
The three Muska-Thais<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"ferry
The 2hr ferry crossing from Phuket passes quickly<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Nevertheless, we bag ourselves some prime seats on the front deck, slather ourselves in suncream, and begin to enjoy the scenery…which is not so much the view from<\/em> the boat as the view on<\/em> the boat: a swarthy, olive-skinned model-type dude with more of a 12-pack than a measly six-pack is slowly rubbing coconut oil into his rock-hard abs and taking endless chisel-cheeked selfies, turning this way and that with his selfie stick. How do you choose your best angle when they are all<\/em> your best angles? I ponder his lucky predicament for a moment. However what starts off as drool-worthy soon becomes downright embarrassing…and when he\u2019s still making love to the camera an hour into the journey we can\u2019t stop simultaneously eyeball-rolling and cracking up at his narcissism. He doesn\u2019t notice of course – he only has eyes for himself.<\/p>\n

\"Phi
arriving at Phi Phi Don<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

By 3.15pm we\u2019re approaching Phi Phi Don<\/span><\/a><\/strong>, the larger of the two Phi Phi\u00a0<\/span><\/a><\/strong>islands (the other, Phi Phi Leh<\/span><\/a><\/strong>, is uninhabited and visited on day trips) – and boy, is she stunning: smooth white sands, clear blue sea and limestone foliage-covered mountains jutting out of the ocean all around. She makes Mr Perfect over there look positively flawed by comparison. As soon as we disembark at Tonsai Pier I immediately detect a similarity between this place and Koh Tao<\/span><\/a><\/strong>, one of my favourite Thai islands, as it has a distinctly village-y feel: winding footpaths with bars, dive schools, bungalows and cute little stalls lining each side. Like Koh Tao, there are no cars on this island. We instantly fall in love with it.<\/p>\n

We struggle with our bags in the intense heat and humidity, sweating our way along until we come to our bungalows.<\/p>\n

\"typical
Chunut House: typical bamboo huts with palm-leaf roofs<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"outside
outside our jungle bungalow<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"\"
Junglist massive: surrounded by wildlife<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Chunut House<\/span><\/a><\/strong> is a little village of palm leaf-roofed bamboo huts, dotted haphazardly in a dense jungle setting surrounded by lush green undergrowth. We freshen up and head down to one of the beachfront restaurants, where I eat (what I think is) a delicious Panang curry. Little do I know that it won\u2019t be the last time I see it (TMI, sorry). When I request that it not be too hot, I meant spicy…<\/p>\n

\"Penang
Penang curry (garnished with a sprinkling of Campylobacter and a side order of Salmonella)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Samantha
“Some-whereeee, over the rainbow….” Luke brings out his inner Judy Garland<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Several hours later, and the rain arrives. And when I say rain, I mean RAIN. Epic amounts. I attempt to Facetime a contact in Athens about an upcoming blog booking, but it\u2019s pitch black and deafening so we give up, arranging to speak when I get back to the UK.<\/p>\n

\"a
making strawberry and Nutella pancakes<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\nhttp:\/\/lifeabirdseyeview.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/02\/nutellavid.mp4<\/a><\/video><\/div>\n

We head out to buy Nutella and banana pancakes (because, Nutella<\/em>) and duck into one of the massage shops to escape the downpour. It seems everyone else has had a similar idea as the place is busy, so we relax into adjoining reclining seats and settle in for an hour-long foot and leg treatment. With the state of my trotters (disclaimer: retail wrecks your feet) the therapist has got her work cut out, and I half expect her to reach for an angle grinder instead of a bit of coconut oil.<\/p>\n

\"Samantha
enjoying a foot massage and a chat…until we’re sternly told to pipe down<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Luke and I are gossiping away until his square-jawed ladyboy therapist scowls, tuts loudly, and tells us to shut up in a distinctly unladylike manner. Feeling reprimanded, we giggle and close our eyes and I drift off to sleep…<\/p>\n

An hour later our feet have been sufficiently pummelled and the rain has stopped. We explore a bit more, stopping to watch the fire-dancing at Slinky\u2019s<\/span><\/a><\/strong> and the raucous goings-on down at the Ibiza Pool Party<\/span><\/a><\/strong>. We make a note of the next pool party (Thursday) and vow to return.<\/p>\n

\"fire-dancing
fire-dancing at Slinky’s Beach Bar<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Ibiza
Like Ibiza, only cheaper…and with lethal Thai whisky<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Ibiza
buckets + bikinis + slippery floor = carnage<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Arriving back at our bungalow we are greeted by a cacophony of active wildlife: bullfrogs, birds and God-knows-what-else are conversing loudly in the trees and bushes. We need that moody ladyboy from the massage parlour to give them a talking to about the noise levels. Our neighbours in the next-door bungalow explain that the loud belching noises coming from the bushes are in fact trumpet frogs. There must be so many of them that it\u2019s not so much one trumpet as an entire orchestra; we have to shout above the din to hear one another. That\u2019s fine, I think – so long as they stay in the bushes where they belong…<\/p>\n