I’m going to be honest… I wasn’t so thrilled about taking a night bus that was scheduled to arrive at 3am in some random city in Thailand.
Our last bus experience had been less than thrilling, so KNOWING that we were going to get dumped in a random street in the wee hours of the morning wasn’t something I was keen on. But my fearless travel partner had faith in the good people of Phuket, so we geared up on oreos and potato chips and boarded a bus head for Satun (pronounced “stone” or “sat-uhhn”, apparently either is acceptable). I was running on barely six hours of sleep for the past two days, so I had no doubt that I would sleep through the journey.
NOPE. Wide awake the entire bus ride, and too car/bus sick to read. All I could do was listen to my iPod and watch the desolate Thai landscape whiz by. Six hours later, we were dropped off (again, random street), and a minor panic set in. I will take this time to advise you that ALL buses in Southeast Asia (at least those in Malaysia, Thailand, and Singapore) will dump you somewhere completely random. Anyways, back to panic. The 24 hour coffee house that was promised to us was nowhere to be seen. Thankfully a hotel was, so we dumped our bags, headed over to 7-11 for our last ever toastie (gift from heaven above) and camped out on the hotel lobby.
Emma, again, snoozed away while I sat on the couches of the world’s most uncomfortable lobby. It was decently clean and respectable, but the air unit would switch between hot air (think 90 degrees F and humid) and cold air (wild artic, dry air). Combine that with my lack of sleep and 2 toasties (ham+cheese and a chocolate croissant. DAMN you, glorious pastries) made for an incredibly nauseous night.
Four hours later, we again paid the tourist price on a taxi fare (which was just pilling up and leading to Emma’s inevitable taxi breakdown… that story is to come) but ended up at the international port bound for Langkawi, Malaysia. And now to load the world’s smallest boat. Hey guys, remember me? Prone to dock sickness, boat sickness, plane sickness, car sickness, bus sickness, anything that moves sickness. Two hours on THAT thing?!? Fantastic. Whaddya know, I would get to experience that last toastie AGAIN.
I tried to focus on the movie they were playing. Emma said it was The Knowing and I (again) freaked out. After years of trying to tell him that I really don’t handle scary movies well, the point really didn’t stick until I cried during The Knowing. Huge alligator tears. John was flabbergasted and had to put on FRIENDS while surrounding me with all the pillows, stuffed animals, and comforters we had to calm me down. I am quite the catch.
So Emma and I argued over if it was The Knowing or not; somewhere between the plane crashes, the earth falling apart, and fervent whispers of “YES, it is!” “No, it’s totally not”, the boat slowed down and we had arrived.
Another taxi ride, two hostel visits, an hour of FINALLY using the internet, we were there in Langkawi. Zombie-esque, and on the verge of snapping (at one point, Emma told me she could tell I was breaking and she was scared it was going to come out on her), but we were there. Hello again, Malaysia.
Random side note… if you look at our diaries, mine says “watched Nick Cage movie about end of the world. NOT The Knowing” while Emma’s says “watched The Knowing on the boat ride”, while. Funny thing is, we were both wrong. It was 2012, staring John Cusack.