When I leap out of bed early and head for the buffet zone in
search of the Malaysians, there is no sign of Lisa and her husband, who have no
doubt gone off on their tour and forgotten to pass on the name of the company.
Perhaps I hallucinated the whole thing and the super cheap tours are but a
chimera? I am, however, thrilled to to have finished brekky so early that I am on
the beach with my young coconut drink by 9am.
Just as I head back to the pool area to talk snorkelling equipment with the friendly kiosk attendant, another marvellous spectacle greets me. Perhaps a dozen Theravada Buddhist monks in their fine regalia of tangerine, ochre and pumpkin-coloured robes waft past me along the waterfront path. I tell you, there is nothing as uplifting as seeing a bald orange dude gazing prayerfully out to sea, framed by the blue backdrop of sky and water. They have definitely brought the sunshine with them. There’s also nothing that brings a smile to my face more quickly than witnessing a young, bespectacled monk smoking a cigarette, while taking pictures from the poolside bar sun lounger of a resort hotel. Perhaps because it confounds my naïve Farang lay-dee expectations of appropriate monk behaviour and decorum. Apparently from another part of Thailand, I guess they consider themselves tourists too.
After a polite sawat dee ka and a hand-clasped bow, I muster the courage to ask
some of them if I may take their photo. They’re cool with it, are quite chatty
and the most senior of them speaks good English. With reciprocal curiosity, he asks
me where I am from, whether I have kids. I tell them I am having a holiday from
my family in Australia, just resting and writing. Eventually, the monks wend
their way in procession down to the old Siam restaurant, where evidently some
kind of Buddhist event is about to take place, to mark an auspicious occasion.
The Karate Kid is on as I try Fox movies again while I transfer and edit my photos of them while the afternoon rain does it’s thing. I’m enjoying its overlapping Asian culture references, its noble if syrupy"fall down, pick yourself up again" and "attain your goals by honourable, rather than ruthless, means" motifs. Very Buddhist.
If they went island-hopping today, I reckon Lisa and co will have
just made I before the sky tipped it down. I wonder what tomorrow holds for the
similar tour I have booked? This seems to be the monsoon pattern if any: clear
to sunny skies mornings with rain late afternoon on the days it does rain,
clearing again by nightfall. I spot them in the lobby, where they have left the tour details with reception, after all. But they are weary from being on a speedboat that didn't quite manage to duck the monsoon at its last destination, on the choppy sea, with only a disappointingly average lunch. This confirms my gut feeling to stick with the island tour I'd originally chosen, so I have booked and am crossing my fingers.
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