Monsoon

The road to our village before the rain started

November footwear!

Our island

Girlpower

The man of the village

Chilling at the beach

Cafédoodle

The artist and her friend Ingrid

The ferry over to Koh Phangan was rescheduled the day we were going over from Koh Samui because of wind. Luckily I had no idea how bad it was before we got on. The boat finally arrived after another delay of 45 minutes. A catamaran, room for maybe 50. It was a 30 minute ride, joyful for some and painful for others. Amongst young partiers with their beer cans and the laughing crew, who acted as we were on a tivoli, we managed to drag our packs, stroller and our selves on the moving boat. Steffen took immediatly a seat alone and told us not to talk to him for the next half hour, wise from past experiences. I was in the front with the kids.

The waves were a lot bigger then what I feared. I was holding on to both kids and trying not to fall off the seat while manuvering small plastic bags for Teo who unfortunatly is like his dad on boats, while he screamed for his dad the whole trip. After thirthy very long minutes I was thrilled to get off the boat, fully covered in vomit and with legs that felt crippled, we were happy to meet Roman, our pickup and villa man.

Roman suggested to stock up and we managed somehow to pull our seasick and beaten bodies together and daised through the supermarket in Tong Sala with slaughtered pig parts spread out on ice. There where eyeballs, other balls, feet, noses and other delicious parts,  we just could not feel the temptation. Only the last stretch was left: Forty minutes on bumpy roads, or something that once were roads. We felt mildly beat up as we entered our new home for 9 weeks. Our very ‘simple’ back pack villa with our own pool, 4 bedrooms, maid, beautiful view of the ocean hugged in by tall palm trees, papaya and banana trees.

We later learned we arrived on a good day with mild winds and no rain, the next day monsoon really started! It is raining buckets of water. It sounds like torpedos. All traffic to the island is closed down, roads are cut off and have fallen into the rivers. The village shops are overflowing, power is toast and we are on level one on the extra power supply.

Today the rain stopped for a moment. We can hear the insects, they sound as they are batterydriven. A tiny lizzard sound like a beefeating mammal.

Tunes are flowing out from the awakening cafés and bars, the ceiling fans are on slow speed, 28 degrees, an island dog is streching under our table, the curry is hot, creamy and filled of wonders.