krabi.

a coddle fish on the beach in krabi.

arriving on the andaman sea as the sun rose over the aqua ocean in thailand woke bryn & india up bright and early. as their bus zoomed along the coast line, the two kept their noses pressed against the glass in awe. in the same way that bangkok had wowed them with it's modern atmosphere and traditional people, the southern coast sparkled their eyes open and kept them that way until the bus finally stopped at an empty roadside cafe on the edge of krabi town. here, bryn & india hopped off the bus, grabbed their bags, and hailed a cab to the hotel that they had prebooked on the internet.

after twenty minutes of winding through coconut tree forests, passing remote open air restaurants facing the water, and families crowded onto smoking motor scooters, bryn & india were dropped off in front of the krabi tropical beach resort. is this right? their driver asked. bryn turned to the sign welcoming a misspelled mr. little and guest. oh yes, bryn said. this is it.

despite their early hour of arrival, bryn & india were immediately assured into their swanky room where they admired the towels folded in the shape of swans, tried on their terrycloth bathrobes and slippers, and bounced on the bed before donning their bathing suits and heading down to the pool.

the pool at krabi tropical beach resort.

bryn & india's first afternoon on the beaches of thailand was spent just like that: on the beach. the two swam in the pool, walked along the water, watched the longboats float out into the distance, their pilots off to catch dinner for their restaurants and their families. they sipped fruity cocktails and made friends with the few other guests at their hotel and, after bryn had properly scorched his freckled pale skin in the sun, the two showered, dressed, and began the walk to ao nang beach, the most frequently visited stretch of sand in krabi.

when bryn & india got there, they understood why.

the boardwalk at ao nang was a bizarre mix of international corporate fast food joints next to literal hole-in-the-wall bars manned by a teenage thai boy with a cooler full of chang beer. the small town feel mixed with the familiar sight of a starbucks reminded india of seaside, oregon. but, you know, totally tropical. the two walked hand in hand along the beach, dipping their toes in an ocean for the first time since goa, and felt comforted by being back on a coast again. they walked and walked until the beach ended against a steep brushy hill. here hung a sign warned against the feeding of monkeys. what monkeys? india wondered aloud. and then they saw.

across a wooden step bridge that hung over a small tributary hung a colony of lanky, chattering sand-colored monkeys, beckoning bryn over to them. hesitant at first, bryn was soon in the thick of things, the monkeys pulling at his thumbs with their tiny fingers, dangling from his hands, crawling up his arms and onto his head, preening his thick hair, kissing his sun burned ears. these were so unlike the growling territorial monkeys of india! the little guys of ao nang craved your attention and were shameless in their attempts to get it fully. for an hour, bryn & india sat in the setting sunlight with monkeys crawling all over them.

fighting over bryn.

mr. monkey man.

that night, bryn & india shared chips and salsa and a half dozen games of backgammon at a mexican restaurant on the beach called 'crazy gringos.' and after three strawberry margaritas each, that's exactly what bryn & india became. they crawled into bed that night in their fancy bathrobes and slept for 12 hours straight.

the next morning was cloudy but warm, and bryn & india put on their bathing suits for breakfast down in the hotel cafe. after munching on sliced dragon fruit and poached eggs, the two were approached by a blond and bronzed young couple in search of some coffee. aric & tracey were (like bryn & india's favorite travel partners in india, randy & avi) from toronto. after working in surfer's paradise in australia for three months, the two had flown to thailand for some asian travel before heading back home in the fall for graduate school. bryn & india immediately took a liking to these talkative canadians with matching stretched smiles. the four decided to adventure together for the day and, after breakfast, the four headed down the street to a pier where they rode a longtail for twenty minutes to the hidden beach of railay.

after being shoved off the boat into two feet of glass colored water, tracey, aric, bryn & india made their way through a sort of tunnel carved out of the rising limestone mountains. winding along the path, they were spit out into a curved bay protected from the wind by towering mountains on either side. here, thai women spread out coolers of beer, 20 baht a can, and set up table top barbecues that grilled citrus drenched shrimp and buttery corn. the four sat in the sand, sharing changs and leos, dipping into the wavy ocean, watching the tide roll in.

schmoozing on railay beach.

after soaking up the best sun they could through the fluffy gray clouds, bryn & india and their new friends waited patiently for a longtail driver to give them a ride back to ao nang. the thai people are a relaxed people. in thailand, with the small waves rolling and slow cooking food smoking around their feet, the pilots of the skinny wooden boats found no rush to leave the hidden coves of railay. after an hour of digging their feet into the cool sand beside the pier, the four were finally ushered into a boat and zoomed through the water to ao nang. here, still covered in sand with damp hair, the four found a happy hour and shared 'buckets' of gin and tonics. a few hours and a few drinks later, aric and tracey bumped into two british boys who they had met earlier in their thai adventure, and the six of them found an open air bar with a pool table where they made friends over drinking games which, in turn, gave tracey and india the confidence to take off into the dark ocean in the late night for a midnight swim. the evening concluded with india (in a burger king crown) dancing to four thai boys performing aggressive american classic rock songs in a dingy dive bar.

new friends share buckets.

bryn & india spent their last day in krabi lounging by the pool, reading their novels, making friends with their hotels employees. after saying goodbye to tracey and aric and promising to meet up the following week for the full moon party, the sun came out and prompted a series of death-defying launchings of india off of bryn's shoulders in the pool. more fruit salads, more sweet cocktails, and an impromptu viewing of a 'hot tub time machine' dvd purchased bootleg on the side of the street is how bryn & india recovered from their krabi party night.

early the next morning, the two set off on their first thai public bus ride over to the island of phuket.

goa.

bryndia arrived in panjim after a long but comfortable bus trip. it was early. just passed five am. the sun was rising over the mandovi river. dozens of men stirred from their sleeping places in the middle of dusty traffic roundabouts. bryndia shuffled through the quiet streets with their heavy backpacks, searching for a place to stay.

india was immediately taken by a small, bright yellow building down the block from the large post office. bryn noticed the red sign that hung over the door. a pousada: a guest house. the pair rang the bell, forgetting briefly that it was so early in the morning. a middle aged man came to the door in a tank top and plaid boxers. yes, yes, i have room, he said. you go in, you sleep, we worry later. thank you, thank you, bryndia said, and then cozied up in their lucky room.

a few hours passed and the two emerged feeling clean and rested. they met their hosts, a homeopathic doctor and his housekeeper wife with a daughter who was living in hollywood. obviously, bryndia immediately took a liking to them. the couple made bryn & india's happiness their personal responsibility. they sketched out maps of the city, of the beaches, explained the locations of all their favorite restaurants and sights, and helped bryndia rent a scooter to get around. that first day in panjim was spent getting acquainted with the city. bryndia walked the length of the river, down trough the portuguese influenced architecture, inside of the largest christian cathedral in all of asia. it was a definite change from bryn & india's first days in the country. in goa, jesus was everyone. bumper stickers and murals and hand painted posters plastered onto the side of white concrete buildings. the smallest state in india wore their european heritage proudly.

the following morning, bryndia rounded the corner from their guest house to find their host's favorite breakfast spot. the two ate poached eggs and toast while perched on a tiny balcony overlooking the cobblestoned street. here, they thought, if they used their imagination, it could feel like they were back in spain. refueled and ready, bryn mounted the rickety rented scooter, india strapped on the helmet, and the two rode thirty minutes north through the dense tropical forests and small river side towns packed with donkeys, up to the famous beach of baga.

bryndia sat in the throngs of indian tourists, their feet buried in the damp sand. the ocean waves crashed loudly in front of them, their company jumping into the brown water, all the men in their tiny underwear, all the women fully covered in their bright colored saris. women carrying huge baskets on their heads approached, selling piles of chunky jewelry. teenage boys pressed dangerous looking paragliding packages. bryndia walked all the way down the beach and then turned up onto the road and walked back along the dusty path dotted with beach boutiques and outdoor bars. they bought forty cent ice cream cones from thirty one flavors and dresses and tee shirts for a few bucks each. the ride back to panjim felt like flying.

the next morning, the two returned to their breakfast balcony, drank mango juice as bright as turmeric, and took off on their rented scooter bound north for mapusa, a small town forty five minutes north of panjim, where the goan branch of international animal rescue was located. bryndia volunteered walking dogs for the afternoon. the scrawny animals lay panting in concrete cages, circling anxiously, and bryn would coo them out of their corners, loop the leash around their neck, and stroll around the jungle compound with them, sprinting down the road and collapsing on their heads, ruffling their ears. after each of the dozen dogs had been let out, bryndia went behind the building to where the puppies and kittens were kept, and ohhed and ahhed over the assortment. they missed their animals at home.


as they were leaving, a leader of IAR mentioned to them that the founder of the charity was now living in a secluded mansion housing a collection of different monkeys only twenty minutes from where they were. could it be true? it sounded magical. a phone call was made and an invite was extended, and bryndia rode along winding rocky roads to find the tree house, the home of john hicks and his twenty five young monkeys. bryndia was greeted with an air of routine friendliness. john shook their hands as he emerged from the swimming pool with a quickly moving ball of fur on each shoulder. bryndia was given a tour of the house, three stories overlooking green goa, and shown to the wooden chest filled with bathing suits for unprepared guests. put on one of those, john said, and come take a swim with the little buggers.


for thirty minutes, bryndia floated in the fresh water pool and watched two one year old monkeys dart through the water like they were michael phelps. they were so full of energy, so fearless. soaring from their perches on john's shoulders into a cannon ball that splashed all over bryn's face. john told them stories of the work IAR did in india and bryndia told him of their time in europe. the afternoon grew late, and bryndia rode back towards mapusa as the air began to cool.

the two decided to stop in mapusa for the famed friday market. here, hundreds of families gathered to sell their goods. thousands of shoppers surrounded them. bryndia walked through the produce wing of the market first. their breath grew hot as they walked through the aisle of huge piles of red chili peppers. they found a bakery stand and stood, staring bewildered at the piles of cakes and cookies. two teenage girls approached them giggling. bryn smiled at them. you look so different than everyone else, the girls said without shame. yes, said bryn, i don't look very indian. you look like barbie, the girls said to india. come to my shop, come buy nice silk from me. india picked out a scarf printed with elephants. pink, the girls said, is barbie's favorite color too.

that night, bryndia ate pizza and drank gin and tonics in their guest house. they planned for a scooter ride to old goa in the morning. they slept soundly and set off on their adventure early. they didn't count on their scooter breaking down in the middle of the highway halfway there. their afternoon was spent hitchhiking back to panjim and obtaining a new ride. that evening, the two rode down the mandovi river, out to dona paula where it meets the ocean, and sat on the beach for hours, watching goats graze next to the water.

the next day, bryndia made it all the way to old goa, the old colonial capital, now an impressive collection of beautiful catholic churches. the two visited the se cathedral, st. francis of assisi, and the basilica of bom jesus. it was funny to be back in the grand gothic buildings of the catholics. after a break from western europe, a month filled with mosques and temples, returning to the cathedral felt comfortingly familiar. the two wandered through the flat park that connected the three churches and shared a coconut, the top hacked off and a straw stuck in by a preteen boy. the two explored old goa by scooter, found some beaches, and some shady corners, and relaxed for their last afternoon in goa. that night, they returned to their favorite restaurant, ate spicy indian food and sweet wine, and took off for the bus station late.




on their bus, bryndia reveled in how concerned every indian they had met had been. after awaking their guest house host at daybreak, he had insisted on getting them comfortable before returning to bed. stranded on the side of the road with a dead scooter, a young man who spoke no english at all had stopped to help before offering a ride. this kind of sweet affection, offered without any expectation or hesitation, flowed from the people of goa. bryndia drank it up.

the south had been sweet. the northwest awaited.