Two things happened when I left Prachuap. In not getting muddy, my right foot got impaled by the bramble spikes that flanked all 5kms of this accursed path. And then, a barking mongrel grazed its teeth on my ankles, the closest any ever got. I was praying the third would not be my Achilles heel. I manage to get into the valley to rest, but not before dusk. The temple at Khao Daeng was only a constellation of silver mosaic glitter in the moonlight, and I sleep with Buddha and Guanyin watching me. I woke up with my shoes missing. At 430am, the monks chant while a horde of dogs bark at me into echoic oblivion as I hobble around gravel in darkness feeling canicidal and in a rage. I find my shoes intact, flung ten meters away. Only the laces of my left had been chewed off. Thats the third straw. I insult the mother of every dog that barked at me today with a terrible ferocity, and their subsequent barks become colored with flabbergast and protestations, to my delight. But I digress. Dawn reveals the beauty of the valley, and I decide to make a detour to the caves I first saw in a Ron Fricke film. Other than a girl who left quickly as I entered barking songs into the echoey cavern thinking I was the only one there, I was the only one there. And it was a mystical journey into some land before time. And then it started drizzling, and it never stopped. So I waddled in the rain up the coast to Paknam Pran, realising I was in farang land and amidst monumental resorts and all things expensive. and then two things happened. Night had fallen and i was on rural roads hounded by hounds, thinking I looked like tourist dollars when a white Toyota stopped. And I got into Huahin in time to breathe and see, oh cruel cruel familiarity, the comforting golden arches of civilisation.
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 15:07:44 +0000
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