photography

Songkran in Cha-am, Thailand

Songkran is one of the three occasions that Thailand celebrates as New Year. And I had a plan. It was to be a legendary road trip. I had gotten a hammock with mosquito net and fly sheet, so that I could sleep anywhere where there are trees trees—which is everywhere in Thailand. I had my motorbike loaded up. I had weeks off work. The vision was big: ride as far south as I could, perhaps spending half of each day on the bike, and maybe even get as far as Malaysia.

Except it didn’t go according to plan. It was April, which is the hottest time of year here. It’s exhausting to spend even half a day on a motorbike, in the blazing sun, blasting down the roads which only get hotter as you move further south. So instead of finding some pristine spot of nature to pitch my hammock camp, I went looking for a cheap guesthouse. A cold water shower can sometimes feel like all the luxury you would ever need. After reading a novel on my Kindle, getting a good night’s sleep, and then breakfast, I got back on the road, and wondered where I would be sleeping the next night.

When I got near Cha-am, which is under 200 km from Bangkok, I headed for a small national park that I had already researched and marked on my GPS. It was almost deserted, but the few staff left said it was fine for me to stay there in my hammock. I dumped my stuff and went for a walk around this small park.

The summit of a hill, overlooking a precipice. The walk was only about an hour, but the heat was utterly debilitating. Here you see me hot, exhausted, but happy.

And that was it. No more! Sometimes we’ve got to toughen-up and be strong, but sometimes we have to go with the flow, which is always towards the sea, and find somewhere comfortable to lay low. I found another guesthouse, parked my bike inside and decided to stop trying to be a hardened woodsman and start enjoying things the Thai way.

All Thai festivals are considered in some way sacred and so monks have a duty to be around giving blessings. This one looks serious but I know he was enjoying showering us all with holy water.

Remember how much fun water fights were when you were a kid? Think about an all-day water fight that lasts between three days and a week.

A favourite way to experience Songkran is from the back of a pickup truck.

Thai society seems relaxed and open, but affectionate physical contact in public is frowned upon. Songkran is one of those special times when people get to break all the rules. The way to do this is to mix talcum powder with water and then slap into over anyone that you wouldn’t ordinarily be allowed to touch!

fire power

Koh Tao is one of the best places to go in Thailand. I’ve been there several times, and although the trip from Bangkok is long and arduous, after I arrive I normally make the effort of crossing the island’s treacherous network of roads and tracks to the East coast, which has some isolated and beautiful beaches. This time, however, I was with my brother, and he hadn’t slept a wink on the overnight sleeper train, and so we crashed as soon as the catamaran had pulled up to the main beach. And that is where we stayed for five days.

I love this island. Even the most developed place still has a laid-back feel.

My brother and I have both transformed ourselves from pitifully weak swimmers into being able to swim a mile or two without any problem at all. I have to thank the TI technique for getting me to where I am now. The greatest thing about being here was being able to try-out this amazing skill away from the pool. (If you’ve never known the frustration of wanting to swim but being unable to, you may not understand how awesome it feels for me to finally do it well.)

On the second day we slapped on sunscreen, did a few stretches, and then donned our goggles. After admiring each other’s new strokes (he learned in England, I in Thailand, and we had not yet seen each other in action), then set out in earnest. Our destination: as far we needed to go to find some good fish.

I’ve never known freedom like this! We swam on and on, cutting through the water, not tiring. We saw a diving boat ahead and agreed to head for it. When we rolled-up, and then dove down, we saw why they had anchored-up here: we had found our tropical fish. Joy washed through me as I bobbed up and down with the small waves, soaking in the intensely blue water and pale sky.

Come evening, we feasted—as one likes to do in Thailand—and then found a cool beach bar. As we ordered our drinks, we got chatting to a couple of Australians. Settling down on comfy cushions spread on the sand, we enjoyed the fire show.

Of course, I couldn’t sit still for long. As the others continue the conversation, I tried out a new lighting technique. With the camera on a tripod, I triggered the shutter with a cheap infra-red remote control. The on-camera flash triggered a manual slave flash, gelled with +1 CTO orange, held by yours truly. I aimed this hard light directly onto the poi artist’s head.

You can see the difference between throwing some light onto the poi artist (the standout shot at the top of this post) and no light (these silhouettes).

glow poi

Poi has been one of those on-and-off hobbies that I’ve had since first getting into the festival scene in England in 2007. There are some really talented fire spinners in the south of Thailand, and they’ve inspired me.

These are shots from an intense session in my apartment recently.

thai national park

Rolling through the backcountry of North-West Thailand, my friend and I found this National Park just outside Mae Horng Sorn. We arrived just in time. All was quiet, except for the rain which came so quickly, and threatened to swamp the tent.

As shower became deluge, we tightened-up guy ropes, closed all zips, and settled-down for a very early night. In the sticky confines of a tent not designed for the intense heat and humidity of the Thai rainy season, sleep was fitful.

But like so many camping adventures, it all felt worthwhile come morning:

I captured an impression of the magic of this morning with a single raw file, which I treated to the HDR powers of QTPFSGUI’s Mantiuk algorithm.

(Be sure to click on the image to get a full-screen rendering.)

danny

Another visa run. A new country. Every country I have been to has a unique feeling. It’s just surprising how quickly you get to sense it.

I was prepared for the onslaught of hawkers peddling fake brand-name cigarettes, fake DVDs, and genuine Burmese prostitutes. Not feeling tempted, I walked purposefully away from the roundabout up a road that seemed to fit the purpose, to get away from hawkers. I did not have a clue where I was going, as I’d neglected to do any research, but I wanted to see Burma. As much as that was possible in the three hour gap before my return bus.

Dirty, open-air restaurant. An old Burmese man with grey, blond-streaked hair, and teeth that were falling out. Danny. He was the only Burmese man in the restaurant that spoke any English. And what English. He opened with a one-liner: “love can create anything”. Taken aback, but interested, I let him go on. It was not long before he was talking about wave-particle duality and matterless motion.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember too many occasions where I spoke about matterless motion with a guy I met in a restaurant in south-east Asia.

He sounded genuinely crazy, but as we went further into his Christianity I couldn’t help but feel we understood each other. He talked about the ground of our lives that is love beyond knowledge. I probed: what of the people who call it God, and claim to understand it–to have captured it inside knowledge? Without hesitation he replied: “Bullshit!”

When we’d stopped laughing, I gave him a hundred baht (three US dollars), securing him as my guide to Tachilek.

Danny: a guy filled with truth and love.

Danny talked of how he had ostracised himself from the local Reverend and community because of his heretical opinions. (Yes, much of Burma is Christian. The missionaries did their job well.) We talked about sacrifice in chess and life, and how so many wish to sacrifice their time, energy, love, money, but refuse to see that what is needed is to sacrifice the self.

He had a gift for seeing the future, and in the end I risked missing my bus back home and asked him to read my palm. Over a cup of the local sweet, milky tea for him, and a Sprite for me. I was a bit scared, but something inside me wanted to try it.

Danny told me how he had predicted a lying preacher would die within three months, and how he did. The other foresights he described were also of sickness and death. The words ‘he is a messenger of death’ came to me. My fear heightened further when he started saying that the spirit cuts through all lies, and does not tell us what we want to hear, but what is true. He seemed to be prepping me for something.

Gulping down a little more Sprite, I held out my hands for this ruthless seer to inspect.

Now I’ve had a palm reading done before, by a Thai man, whose insight was limited to generalities and one specific prediction: that I was an English teacher. Not breathtakingly impressive. I know a lot of people that could predict that a white guy living in Thailand is an English teacher. But Danny was good. He told me some very difficult to guess things about my past and then made a couple of suggestions about my present, which were penetrating. He helped me understand my own situation.

This was not an every day occurrence; Danny is not the kind of person you meet every day. When I got back to my room, later in the evening, I had the feeling that something special had happened. My first trip to Burma, and I doubt my last.

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