Travel – Page 23

Koh Kred, Thailand (part two)

The water level rose higher the farther we walked and flooded the market on Koh Kred. We assumed the corridor where we were walking would reclaim the high ground and pressed on with bare feet, wading through the water until we reached dry ground again. I enjoyed the exotic feel of wading through floodwater; my son and wife did not share my enthusiasm and fretted over whether critters lurked in the water waiting to nip their toes or infiltrate their bodies. I was reassured by the flowing water that it did not carry waterborne diseases common in stagnant cesspools. Just to be safe, I gave my son a piggy back ride through the water, much to his relief.

We crossed two more flooded areas. Again on dry land, we dried our feet and put on our shoes. The floodwater was a novelty but distracted us from shopping in the market, a sentiment likely shared by other visitors around us judging by the empty shops with nary a shopper. Performers dressed in ethnic Thai garb entertained a nonexistent crowd at a small outdoor theater. The water held their potential audience at bay.

Water overtook the corridor again, and we waded into it one more time. The flooding was more extensive here. We wandered through the flooded corridor for a few minutes vainly searching for dry land, but none was in sight. My wife and I decided to turn around and head for lunch instead. We had had enough of the submerged market!

We stopped at a riverside restaurant on stilts jutting into the Chao Phraya River. Delicious Thai food simmering in trays wafted from a small counter in the middle of the restaurant. I played it safe and ordered pad Thai, the quintessential Thai dish; my son ate his usual fried rice with shrimp; and my wife chose pad see ew, a noodle dish she’s taken a liking too since she arrived in Thailand. The restaurant staff cooked our meal in the dining area not far from our table. About fifteen minutes later, we were feasting on a cheap, delicious Thai meal overlooking the mighty Chao Phraya.

A giant gold Buddha more than 25 meters tall sat cross-legged across the river from us in of Koh Kred Island. The Buddha is a most prominent feature of Wat Bangchak temple on the northern bank of the river. The beautiful Buddha meditated serenely with his hands pressed together in prayer at the edge of the flowing river, shining ever brighter amid the deep greenery.

Ferries from felucca-style boats to something out of the African Queen traversed up and downriver to drop off or pick up passengers. A few fishing boats skimmed the water with underpowered motors in search of abundant fish churning the water as they jumped to catch insects on the surface. We sat next to the water and looked down at the cauldron of fish below us.

After lunch we waded back through the water to higher ground protecting the island’s largest temple, Wat Paramaiyikawatworawihan, from flooding. The sun fried us from all sides, from the heavens and to its reflection on standing pools of water. We tried to enter another market known selling for Monam Lai Wichit terracotta pottery, but the floodwaters barred our way. We aborted our shopping trip and vowed to return after the rainy season ended.

As we waited to take the ferry back to the urban sprawl of Bangkok, we indulged in one more helping of coconut ice cream, and I filled out a survey for a group of Thai students who wanted to improve their English. The day ended with an unfulfilled shopping trip and more than our fill of aquatic adventure.

Koh Kred, Thailand (part one)

September 3, 2011

My family and I recently moved to Bangkok, Thailand. Our inaugural outing took us to Koh Kred, also known as Ko Kret, an island in the Chao Phraya River in the Pak Kret district of greater Bangkok. It was a fun but wet adventure.

Created in 1722 when the Thais built the Khlong Lat Kret navigation channel, Koh Kred is the home of a popular form of terracotta pottery known as Monam Lai Wichit and a peaceful atmosphere far from the buzz of nearby Bangkok. A Buddhist temple, Wat Paramaiyikawatworawihan, dominates the northeastern part of the island and features a unique pagoda, Chedi Mutao, that leans over the river as if inspired by the Tower of Pisa.

The temple (wat) is one of several dotting the island influenced by the Mon (Raman), and ethnic group that preceded the Thais in the Chao Phraya delta region and flourishes between the 6^th and 10^th centuries A.D. (The other temples on the island are Wat Phailom, Wat Saotongthong and Wat Chimphi.)

The Mon, who are prevalent among the island’s inhabitants, run many pottery and souvenir shops and stalls in Ko Kret’s markets. One village on the eastern side of the island known locally as the “Koh Kred Pottery Village” is supported by the Thai government’s “One Tambon One Product” (OTOP) local entrepreneurship program. (A “tambon” is an administrative subdistrict. OTOP-style programs are popular in Asia.)

We took a ferry from the western bank of the Chao Phraya River to the island at Wat Sanamnau. We should have known what lay ahead after wading through muddy waters that washed over the ferry gangway. Flooding on the Chao Phraya River had raised the water level a meter higher than normal, foreshadowing a soggy visit to Koh Kred. Ferry operators overloaded the boat with tourists, whose weight caused the boat to list and elicited startled gasps from trepid Western and Thai passengers. I surveyed the river as the bloated wooden ferry struggled to cross over to the island. The river was swollen and churned brown with silt and debris floating from upstream. The lush green landscape fed by heavy rainfall was interspersed with rambler houses bedecked with orange Asian tiles crowding either side of the river. A few more meters of floodwater would have submerged the entire area in a murky soup.

The boat dumped us on a metal gangway superheated by the morning sun. Barefoot from traipsing through the water at Wat Sanamnau, I did an involuntary “hot, hot, hot!” dance on the pier until the crowds subsided and let me pass to shore, where I could put on my shoes. My family and I wandered briefly through the Wat Paramaiyikawatworawihan temple grounds as the sun beat down on us. I admired the mixture of ornate Buddhist architecture with traces of Mon influence most apparent in facades of some wooden structures.

Snapping photos and video, we stopped to enjoy some delicious coconut ice cream before wandering into the covered market. (The ice cream was a concoction of vanilla ice cream, sticky rice, and processed coconut milk.)

Stalls turned to shops in a covered area flanking the north side of the island. We browsed the stores but did not buy much. I purchased an over-the-top faux Thai “silk” shirt for a few dollars while my wife sampled and bought delicate Thai desserts made from boiled egg yolk and other confections.

Our disinterested son bumped along with us and zeroed in on some items he thought might make good toys, but the shops at Koh Kred didn’t make many products appealing to young boys.

As we walked along an elevated corridor about two feet above ground, we noticed that water had flooded shops with floors at ground level. The shop owners did not seem to mind standing or sitting in water and were more preoccupied with making sales to the few visitors who had braved the flooding. Accustomed to the flooding, the vendors tended displayed their wares on tables in standing water as if it did not exist! Some of the wealthier shop owners installed raised flooring that helped keep their stores dry.

Click here to read part two of our adventure on Koh Kred Island.

Kilimanjaro (Epilogue)

I awoke early on my final day in Arusha. We needed to depart early for the airport to catch a morning flight to Lusaka, Zambia via Zanzibar and Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. I felt refreshed after a good night’s sleep in a real bed albeit still very sore. We met in the lobby and rejoined our companion Betty for the first time in days. I gave her a big hug. Although she did not make it to the top on our trip, I admire her for trying to climb Kilimanjaro twice, the first time in 2005 when she was forced to cut her climb short when she was hit by altitude sickness. It takes guts to pick up the pieces and try again.

Betty recounted the events that had transpired during her evacuation from Kibo Hut three days prior. The guides had placed her in a wheeled stretcher akin to a wheel barrow and hauled her down the mountain to Mandara Huts on the Marangu Route. A kindly physician on her way up the mountain spotted Betty and assisted her with some on-the-spot medical attention. A rescue team sent by Kilimanjaro National Park management rendezvoused with Betty at Mandara Huts and escorted her down the mountain with guides in tow. They loaded her into one of August’s vans and took her to a local hospital for treatment. Much to her consternation, employees who helped evacuate and treat Betty demanded compensation, even though the $742 Kilimanjaro park entrance fee includes insurance coverage for medical evacuations. She had no recourse but to pay for assistance at every turn, even the hospital bill. The Tanzanian authorities may never reimburse for her troubles.

Betty’s sad story did not dampen our enthusiasm (including Betty’s) to head home. We got into August’s van as the porters stored our gear in the back and set off for Kilimanjaro International Airport. None of us spoke much on final leg of our trip; I stared out the window and watched Tanzania pass me by for perhaps the last time. I found some names of local businesses rather amusing, none more so than the “Obama Bar.” Colorful shops with sheet metal roofs painted in a livery of beige or blue with bright lettering and trim stood out among strands of palms. The subtropical climate near Arusha gave way to the semiarid steppes around the airport closer to Kilimanjaro’s shadow. I watched as we passed locals going about their business as they headed to work on bicycles, carried children on their backs or goods on their heads, or sat next to the highway selling fruits and vegetables. I saw an image of Africa reminiscent of what I often see in Zambia.

The flight home was rather uneventful other than sitting next to an oversized, perspiring, asocial man on the flight to Zanzibar who nearly crowded me out of my seat. As we waited on the tarmac at Zanzibar airport, I started to have flashbacks of a trip I took with my family there in 2010. We arrived in Dar Es Salaam less than half an hour later and navigated the byzantine international airport without too much hassle. The airline was inexplicably confused about seating assignments and checked-in bags, and it took some cajoling on our part to set them straight. We made it home safely to Lusaka 2.5 hours later without incident, back in the arms of our families who had waited anxiously for our arrival.

And thus my Kilimanjaro adventure ended. If you made the climb yourself, I commend you for your effort and hope that this story rekindled memories of your own trip. Only those who have “done” Kilimanjaro truly understand the full magnitude of climbing the rooftop of Africa.

Perhaps you are considering Kilimanjaro. If so, I urge you to plan ahead. The climb is not technically difficult and does not require special climbing gear such as oxygen, and you don’t have to be a professional mountaineer to reach the summit. That said, it’s not for everyone. I am glad I did it but would never do it again, although the idea of another adventure in the Himilayas has begun to percolate. You do not have to be in the best physical shape to reach the summit, although it definitely helps. A well-developed respiratory system may be the best indicator of whether you will reach the top. Some of the fittest people in the world like former tennis star Martina Navratilova have succumbed to altitude sickness on Kilimanjaro. I almost did too. If you are a smoker or have asthma, this climb may adversely affect you. It also helps to have a strong lower body as you will exert tremendous pressure on your legs, knees, or feet. If you have knee or hip problems, you may want to reconsider tackling Kilimanjaro.

It’s also critical that you climb with a group of people you enjoy. You will spend a week together in a harsh environment that inevitably brings out the worst in people. If you find someone annoying at sea level, they will surely drive you to distraction in thin air. The support team you hire is also critical to your success. Hire a professional guide; don’t cut costs by going with an amateur. Many companies eager for your business, and you should balance quality with cost. Steer clear of hiring a company simply because they are the cheapest and at the same time avoid choosing one that charges you thousands of dollars more than you need to spend. Your support team cannot guarantee that you will have a rewarding experience or reach the summit, but they can make or break your climb.

Talk to someone you know who’s already climbed Kilimanjaro for tips on the do’s and don’ts to help you prepare for your own climb. Although every climber’s experience is different, there are some basic rules and insights to consider before you climb. Many web sites offer good advice on preparing for the trip. Although they are not always right, they can give you advice on how to prepare. Don’t end up discovering at 16,000 feet that you forgot to bring a critical piece of equipment.

Finally, it’s good to have an inspiration to guide you up and down the mountain. Maybe it’s your faith, family, or friends. Maybe it’s a goal you’ve set for yourself. Or perhaps it’s Steve Jobs and the marvelous gadgets his company has created for the mobile lifestyle. Whatever sustains you whenever you’re in a very uncomfortable situation or driven to the point of despair will suffice.

If after reading this story you have questions about climbing Kilimanjaro, you may contact me at mgedwards@worldadventurers.com for more information.