Day 21
Got a late start out to the Mo Chit Bus Station. We are on our way to Khao Yai National Park. It only took us until the third taxi to get one to run the meter. The drivers who accept the system and happily meter tend to be friendly. Bus stations here have been easy for us. In the USA, bus stations are chaos without considering the opium den atmosphere. We got out of our taxi and a uniformed station employee asked us where we were going. She pointed us to the proper floor. There were three floors to choose from. We crested the stairs and were immediately asisted in finding a ticket window. Next step: getting to the bus. We followed behind yet another bus station employee. I wondered if all this assistance was due to us being foreigners. That, plus the constant perplexity plastered on our faces.
The bus ride allowed excitement to build. Our first National Park in Thailand! Our bus dropped us off in the town of Pak Chong. Here’s where the vagaries began; the line where planning and knowledge ended. We wandered. We asked. People pointed, mostly directional, not at anything in particular. After some searching we found the bus that would take us to Khao Yai National Park. Packed full of kids returning home after their school day in town. It was now 5:00 PM. We were planning on renting a tent and camping tonight. Thankfully it was Friday and not Saturday; Bangkok empties out into Khao Yai on Saturdays. Anyway, time was running out. The sun was on it’s way to setting. Our bus dropped us a short walk away from the Park gate. The visitor’s center is 17km from the front gate. We asked the gate keeper if there were buses up to the center. He said our best bet at this hour was to hitch-hike. We had not hitch-hiked yet in Thailand but someone had recently told us that hailing a passing car is not done the way it is done in America. You do not hold out a thumbs up, you flap your hand up and down with your fingers out-stretched and your palm facing down. This is a common Thai gesture meaning, “come here.” We were not walking long when a couple driving a pick-up truck pulled over. We hopped in the truck bed and off we went.
The sun set as we bounced down the road. From the back of the truck, the twilight jungle whisked past. A great hornbill flew over the truck, startling us with its massive wingspan and sudden appearance. As the driver switched on the headlights, I immediately started laughing. So much was still up in the air. We needed a tent, a campsite, food! We hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As long as we were alive and together we would be fine. That realization banished all anxiety. I reveled in the wind rushing over the cab. Slipping into a moment knows no equal feeling. Obscure moments. Fresh moments. Every moment holds elements. The moment the lights went out in the sky and the lights came on in the truck. Riding in the unknown, not into but in already. I have come to respect and adore the occasional complete lack of preparation in travel. Arriving at the visitor’s center, we were informed that the campsite is 7 km farther on. Back to the road, into the back of a another truck. We had a map and knew the next turn would be a left one, the truck turned right. My chest was instantly too small for my heart. Sweat beaded on my brow in the cool air. Before exiting the park we expressed our panic to the teenage hitcher next to us. He glanced at our map and leaned over the cab and communicated the need to turn around. The imagined danger borne of anxiety left me. Once again I knew we would be fine; not before noting how quickly reckless abandon can go from bubbly laughter to sweaty palms. We set off at a brisk walk for the turn we knew we had to take. At this point we are surrounded by pitch blackness and the sounds of a jungle at night. The headlamp was summoned and we steeled ourselves for a creepy walk in the dark. Two Thai guys that looked our age pulled up and offered a ride in the back of their truck. We knew the drill by now. We pulled up to the park police station, very near to where we were picked up, they stopped the car. The passenger walked back to us and asked, “polit, polit, yes?” We had never told them where we were going. Liz and I blurted out at the same time the name of our camp area, “ohhhh sorry, ‘Lam Thakong?’” They responded, in Thai, with what I assumed was, “why didn’t you say so?” (accompanied by laughter). They were actually going there as well.
We easily rented a tent, sleeping bag (for me), and sleeping pad (also for me). The process felt more loosey goosey than US National Parks, especially when we asked where the campsites were. The park official patiently told us there are no campsites and to camp wherever we would like within the camp area. It was at this time that our hunger levels decided it was time to be addressed. We found dinner in the form of noodle cups and chips. We dined with two older Thai men and a Thai woman. None of them spoke English well but after a while we realized that they understand the language better than they may have been letting on. Despite communication difficulties, they told us stories about the park. I gathered that one of the guys fell of his motorbike once and fell directly onto a porcupine. I think. This interpretation was backed up when he brought out two porcupine quills.
thecereallife 