Koh Phangan > Bangkok

Saying goodbye to our last Thai island was unsurprisingly difficult, especially the morning after the Full Moon Party.

Disaster day started with a terrifying taxi to the pier on Koh Phangan. Our ride was a pickup truck with no cover, real benches or handles (seat belts are a laughable suggestion in SE Asia). We grasped onto the piece of wood all six of us sat on as we whipped around the hilly island. I was sure we would hit a bump and be tossed to our death, but we arrived safely – white knuckled, but safely.

What followed was utter confusion. You see, when you prebook transportation here, you're simply given a sloppy hand written receipt. No written directions or passenger names necessary. You generally hope you and your backpack reach your destination, and blindly board nondescript taxis, vans, ferries and buses.

This day, we thought we were on the boat to Surat Thani followed by an overnight ferry to Bangkok, but after waiting in the funnel of backpackers, we were redirected to another boat on its way to Koh Tao. Once seated and skeptical, we were told all Bangkok bound passengers must shimmy over to a third ferry on its way to Chumphon.

Seven hours crossing the Gulf of Thailand later, we arrived in the town of Chumphon. We saw a double decker bus and deduced an overnight bus was in our future.

After some pier noodles, a beautiful sunset and short break, we boarded the seemingly spacious bus. In true Thai style, they oversold the seats, leaving us with the option of cramming around a table in the downstairs area or occupying the last rows of the bus. We regrettably chose the later.

It wouldn't of been so bad if our bus mates hadn't been dirty, rude backpacking boys. These guys reeked and clearly hadn't showered or washed their clothes in a dangerous amount of time.

The discomfort of the tiny back row seats and having to breathe through our mouths all trip already put us on edge. When the bus broke down 30 minutes into the trip, I thought we were all going to lose it.

A couple hours and a terrible B movie later, we were on our way north again.

When our uncomfortable 10 hour bus ride came to end, we thought we were home free. That is, until we realized it was 4 a.m.

We deliriously taxied to our hostel, and thankfully the security guard let us sleep on the floor of the common room until reception opened at 7 a.m. I'm scared to think what would've happened if that Thai angel hadn't opened the doors to us.

Moral of the story: plan ahead and book a cheap flight.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Eight Months in Oz

Last photo in the U.S. before boarding my plane to Australia 🙂

Eight months ago today, I was anxiously on my way across the world to Australia. I had no idea what to expect, who I would meet or what I’d accomplish on this adventure.

So far, Oz has proved to be the dream world I never knew existed. My first five months of visiting Melbourne and then living by Bondi Beach while working in Sydney were fantastic – I met some amazing friends, saved a lot of money and embraced the life of a Sydneysider. (Update: the unsinkable café I slaved for in Bondi has indeed sunk.)

Holiday from My Working Holiday

My life as a transient traveler only got better after a brief visit to California for my brother’s sweet wedding and my Chevy cruise down the Cali coast with my best friend.

Once back in Oz in August, my smorgasbord of Aussie exploration commenced– touching the Top End, the Red Center, the Great Barrier Reef and everything gold down the East Coast.

The past three months have truly been some of the best of my life – I had an outrageously fun time meeting tons of new friends and doing things I never thought I’d do (scuba diving next to one of the seven wonders of the world, sleeping in a swag in a crocodile infested national park, watching the sunrise over one of the most impressive rock formations in the world, sailing on a yacht to a beach more beautiful than I could’ve imagined, surfing – I could reminisce all day, sigh).

And just like that, my Australian bucket list is complete. I’ve seen and done more than I expected, and I still have four months left on my visa!

Home Sweet Sydney

Arriving back in Sydney a week and a half ago felt like coming home, but strangely enough, I suddenly feel as lost as when I first landed eight months ago. I’m desperately looking for decent work and seeking room share refuge from the hostel life. And just like my first time around in Sydney, I’m frustratingly not finding either quickly enough.

Sure, I realize my “stressful” life is still pretty awesome, but living out of a suitcase in rooms with nine others loses its luster quickly and grates on your patience. And, you know times are tough when you’re getting up at 5 a.m. to enter data to survive, while spending your free time refreshing GumTree to apply for jobs like a teeth promo girl (yup).

Talk to anyone who’s “immigrated” to Australia for a year – it’s one challenging holiday. Just when you think you’ve eaten the last depressing packet of noodles your body can physical stomach, something great pops up, restoring your love for all that is Oz.

Right now, I’m waiting for that a-ha moment to bring me back to life (along with the beautiful summer weather to shine on Sydney – shedding my warm clothes on my way down the coast wasn’t wise).

Until my Australian guardian angel steps in, I’m trying to stay focused on what I can control – staying positive, social and well rested after a full on few months.

Happy Aus-iversary!