sagesex

Joe turns off the tarred main road. The little road through the jungle is not even half as wide anymore. Soon it becomes a dirt track, now some road holes appear, now some ditches in the middle of the track and now its getting steeper. Joe, by the way, is our 125cc Honda Dream, that has helped us drench the ground of Koh Pangan with our sweat and blood every day until today. We are on our way to Had Yuan, which according to a friend of ours (thank you Cathi!) is supposed to be the most beautiful beach in Thailand.

Normal people reach the bay by boat, which is a three kilometres trip from the next town. However, there is a slightly longer way through the jungle that we want to travel with a deep trust in Joe and the universe. We did not believe our neighbors when they told us we should rather take a boat. We were just lucky in managing to more fake than take the first little slopes. Now there’s a local standing here who has come up the 30° steep washed out dirt track in front of us with admirable sovereignty on his scooter. He is telling us it would be totally crazy to go that track with two people on one scooter. But he is just offending our positive mood. We crawl along, torturing Joe on the dirt track up and down. We make it about 300 meters further until the scooter cannot take the 45° steep track anymore. Stefan loses control and crashes into a rock wall. Our motivation is down, Stefan is bleeding again and we drink our last sips of water.

Stefan and Joe after I pulled both of them out of the ditch

“It can’t be more than three or four kilometers” we ponder after careful consideration of the carelessly drawn map. So we decide to leave Joe behind and walk. Every step takes us higher up to the 550 meter mountain but is equally paid for in some drops of sweat, which in turn makes our motivation sink more and more. The sun is brooding above the jungle and makes us melt like ice cubes. After the first three slopes we have gained 100 meters of height, almost gave up two times, and finally deserve a break. Here we hang out like wet rags on two rocks. A motorist stops, the only human we encounter during our entire jungle tour by the way, and prophesies we have only three kilometers to go to Had Yuan. We wring the weariness from our bones and keep on ascending.

Sagesex crew after 30 minutes of jungle climbing

You always think you’re almost up there. Every 50 meters. Everytime you beat a slope. Maybe I should have listened better when my latin teacher told me the story of the road sweeper from Michael Ende’s “Momo”. Anyway, eventually we are up there and totally exhausted. But from now on it’s almost all downhill and motivation is kicking in again: The longer we walk from the peak on, the faster we get and the happier. Finally the Germans are marching again! After two hours of steady up-and-down we look like we just had a shower, but we finally see the other end of the jungle! Doesn’t it look idyllic? We walk even faster, though it’s still up and down every few meters.

Had Yuan Beach from above

Suddenly the path stops in front of a concrete wall. A huge sign screams the name of some hotel resort at us. This hurts! Two hours of lonely trekking through the hot jungle only to arrive at a resort? Contritely we stagger through, passing the reception and the pool to get to the beach where we are greeted by two more resorts and a dozen tourists. Whatever. Let’s first replace the salt water produced naturally in the body by the one produced by Poseidon. A peak beer according to German climbers tradition is next in one of the overpriced taverns that are reachable only using wooden bridges a la Robinson Crusoe along the rock face. The mats are comfortable, water and beer tasty, and the sunset enchanting. We decide, though still quite dead, to start looking for a way back.

surprise! An expensive resort at the end of the jungle

Pick up taxis don’t go after sunset and, just like the boats, they are insolently expensive. During dinner we ask ourselves why the hell we are in a rush to get away from here, considering how hard it was to reach this place, which moreover is beautiful indeed. Convinced – we stay for the night and tomorrow we’ll march again. All the bungalows are full. So what? Let’s go to the “Stoners Bar”! We had been offered to sleep on their terrace a while ago already. We might be just as tired as before, but now we found the right place for that: Stoners Bar is the most beautiful stoner paradise imaginable, perfectly situated in this secluded and thus quasi anarchic beach. We hang out on thai mats on a terrace below the full moon. It’s neither too cold nor too warm under the open sky, with an agreeable slight breeze. Below us you can hear the surf, there’s light electronic chill music from the side and from time to time we get handed a bong by our new reggae nigger friends. What a pleasant night, if short. Because at sunrise the Germans are marching again.

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Joe biegt von der geteerten Hauptstraße ab. Das Sträßchen durch den Dschungel ist jetzt nicht mal mehr halb so breit. Bald wird es zum zwei Meter breiten Dreckweg, jetzt kommen ein paar Schlaglöcher dazu, jetzt einige tiefe Gräben, jetzt wird es immer steiler. Joe ist übrigens unsere 125cc Honda Dream, die uns bisher noch ...