40 degrees in 40 degrees

Sandra, intelligently, to Buddy Lissy after an extraordinarily taxing day: "How do you feel like food?"
Lissy in response: "Sounds like you need some."

..........

We weaved our loaded bicycles down the thin wooden gang plank onto the ferry, and the surprisingly small motor boat powered us through the hazy teal waters to Island (Koh) Kood. The boat carried farm tools, bags of diapers, loads of vegetables, and a mix of pale eager tourists and browned un-phased locals. And one golden-robed monk. And our bikes.

We stepped, weaving a little, onto the island, ready to find a guest house and some lunch.

Guest houses were across the island, and we set out with a thumbs up from a Mr. Motorcycle who'd given us his little map, and the wavy arm sign for "mountains". In the middle of the heat of the day. Without lunch. Through a thin road in the dense breeze-less rainforest.

The hills on this island nearly fried us. At some points feeling like 40 degree grades. We were sweating like two sweat lodges, and heaving like bellows. We got off and pushed and walked. We'd climb a knee-creaking hill, to fly down for short-lived bliss, only to slog up another one. This continued for a burning 12 kilometers. Motor bikes flew effortlessly past, and this was one of the few times I wished to be on one. But Lissy and I are rather stoic and we did our best to keep down the complaining. I stopped for a vigorous roadside consumption of pineapple cookies, because I was experiencing that fascinating feeling where you realize your body has zero caloric resources to it's name.

After this trek, we were discouraged to find that many guest houses were full. But before we consumed the last of our dates and began to really despair in exhausted hunger and heat, another Mr. Helpful Motorbike suggested we check out a little resort down (up and down and up and down) the road. There were 3 huts left and we got ourselves one for 400 baht.

This thing truly fulfills the word "hut"--it is more like one of those blanket-card-table forts I'd made as a kid than a cabin. There is no prospect of standing upright inside it; only room for two tiny sleeping pads and mosquito netting. The thing is made of bamboo and thatch. It is quite cute in a rustic way, but certainly I would not want to spend more than a night or two in it.

But it sits on a beach of paradise. Truly, this place is the epitome of tropical delight. Seeing that beach--hammocks, white sand, palm trees--after that impossible trek, was just a throng of Arrival! and Wow! and Here we are!

This is the first clear water I've seen in Thailand. I watched little yellow and blue stripey fish swim around some seaweed, and felt like I was in a postcard.