December 5-18: I observed in the introduction to this book/blog that much of my trip appears in hindsight to have been a near-random series of poorly-planned coincidences. The balance of my trip after Calcutta is probably “Exhibit #1”. My original plan had been to visit the northern hill tribes of Thailand in the Chiang Mai area, visit Malaysia and Singapore, and end up in Australia and possibly New Zealand before heading home. I ran out of a lot of necessary ingredients to fulfill those plans: 1) money–I was broke other than the camera proceeds, two final $50 traveler’s cheques, and my Mastercard; 2) time–in theory, I could travel for the rest of my life but I had given in to anxiety of the unknown and decided I “needed” to return home in time to meet the February submission deadlines for law schools I wanted to apply to; and 3) attention span–vagabonding around the entire world wears a guy out more than one would expect when the initial plans are created. In short, while I was usually very happy, I was also broke, worn-out, homesick, and feeling the urge to “move on” with my life.

After landing in Bangkok airport, I got on a bus that went to the area in the city that had cheap housing that attracted backpackers. I met a number of New Zealanders (the nicest English-speaking people in the world based on my experience), Aussies (not nearly so nice unless you like drunken fights), and assorted Europeans who were all on the same bus headed to the same part of town. I joined in with some New Zealanders who had the address of an old warehouse that was renting spaces with cots for next to nothing. Areas of the warehouse were separated into “dorm rooms” of various sizes by “walls” made out of chain-link fence type material and there was a gate on the front that could be locked for each dorm room. There were no solid walls at all and you could see the “dorm rooms” on either side of your “dorm room”. Four or five of us got a “dorm room” together and agreed who would hold the key. After dropping off our backpacks, we headed out to find a delicious stir fried Thai seafood dinner with Thai beer. The only place we could afford was one of the many street vendors set up throughout Bangkok that has a wok, oil, and raw food kept in dodgy storage containers. We got a lot of food for little money and it was the first of several “spiciest, hottest meal of my life” that I would experience in Thailand!

I was simply too worn out to take on Bangkok. For two days, I went through the motions of seeing the top sites–the amazing temples of Wat Traimit, Wat Pho, and Wat Arun; and the markets but I just wasn’t enjoying myself and found traveling around Bangkok on the cheap to be exhausting. Oddly, the one thing that totally captivated me was the Red Cross Snake Farm in the heart of the city. I had read about it in a National Geographic article about King Cobra snakes and was able to realize my twisted desire to actually see a King Cobra.

Nai Han Beach & “Mr. John’s”: Nothing to Do, No Where to Go, and No One to Be

I decided that there were two affordable destinations I had to pick from–either north to the northern Hills Tribes in Chiang Mai or south to Phuket Island. Each option involved lengthy bus trips. Ultimately, I made my decision based on the name of a place I had seen on a posting in the Pudding Shop back in Istanbul–“Mr. John’s Restaurant & Bungalows” on Phuket Island where “thatched huts were $.50 per night and omelettes for breakfast were $.50 or $.75 with magic mushrooms!” Mr. John’s Restaurant & Bungalows sounded like my kind of place to finish an around the world journey.

Bus to Phuket December 8th, I got on a long-distance bus that was fairly comfortable but not air conditioned. It only stopped at a couple of towns and dropped me off on Phuket Island–550 miles and 18 hours later. I sat next to a robed Buddhist monk most of the trip. I quickly figured out that it was best (cheapest) to travel by motorcycle on Phuket Island–there were many shops offering 250cc Yamahas for very little money per week. Phuket was very “English friendly” as it had become a major “rest and relaxation” area for American troops serving in Viet Nam through the early 1970’s. I got a map, figured out the route to Mr. John’s Restaurant & Bungalows, and learned how to ride a motorcycle–I had only been on them a couple of times in the past,,,usually late at night when drunk. Patong Beach–a very popular and developed area–was directly across the island from Old Town Phuket but Nai Han Beach and Mr. John’s was about 30 minutes south on roads that changed from paved, to gravel, to packed sand. I learned quickly that motorcycles don’t travel through loose sand at all and I was careful to park the bike and walk whenever the trail wasn’t packed. I had originally learned about “Mr. John’s” from the Pudding Shop billboard four months earlier. I also read about it in the recently published “Southeast Asia on a Shoestring” guide that came out in 1975 and which, along with “Asia on the Cheap”, were two of the founding publications of Lonely Planets Press. A few copies of each publication circulated among travelers. While increasing numbers of guest houses and hotels were starting to be constructed along Patong Beach, Nai Han Beach was almost deserted except for Mr. John’s Restaurant and the thatched bungalows Mr. John rented for next to nothing.

I fell in love with “Mr. John’s” at first sight. The “restaurant” was a rickety thatched structure with half-walls and tables inside and on the area leading to the beach. The menu was written on chalk-boards and there were colorful placards advertising the specials–mostly fresh fish-of-the-day dishes caught right off the beach by local fishermen and, of course, “all day omelettes–10 Baht…15 Baht with Magic Mushrooms”–that was equivalent of 50 and 75 cents in US money! I enjoyed a fresh fish stir-fry the first day that was smokin’ spicy. The manager showed me an available thatched Bungalow–one of about 10 nestled in the sand surrounding the restaurant. Inside was just a charpoi-type bed and a box for a night-stand. There was no electricity and electricity to the restaurant was very unreliable and they had a back-up generator. The toilet was on the side of the restaurant and the only shower was a cold water shower used to wash sand and seawater off after a dip in the bay. Except when I needed something from it, I kept my backpack zipped tightly in the bungalow to discourage insects and lizards. Two things amazed me about my thatched hut: 1) even though the door didn’t lock, no one ever took anything from my room (I kept my money, passport, and a few items in the under-arm pouch my mother had sewed for me but left other items in my room); and 2) the variety and size of geckos and lizards that lived on and in the roof material never ceased to amaze me–I would turn on my headlamp in the middle of the night just to see them scurry across the thatched ceiling to the corners.

The only nightlife at Mr. John’s was people sitting around the restaurant or on the beach chatting and admiring the incredible scenery and sunsets. Nearby, there was a lot of nightlife along Patong Beach Road at the growing number of resorts being constructed in that entire area and Old Town Phuket was always hoppin’. Nai Harn Beach and bay had very little development. I walked the beach a lot and snorkeled on the reefs. About a kilometer down the beach from John’s was a section of beach mostly used by a new hotel that catered to airline crews that were overnighting or vacationing on Phuket–lots of friendly stewardesses. Just beyond that beach was the “unofficial” nude beach–I tried it but decided it wasn’t my cup of tea…especially all the sand in places you don’t want sand!

For better or worse, I really unwound on Phuket. In addition to mushroom omelettes, fruit smoothies, and beer, John’s sold Thai-sticks (super high-grade marijuana buds wrapped around a stick) and Mekong Whiskey. I toured the island on my motorcycle with a bottle of Mekong Whiskey and a Tai-stick in my pack, but usually settled into a nearby beach for a few hours if I got buzzed as the traffic was pretty insane–especially for a novice motorcyclist. I spent most of my time enjoying Nai Harn Beach–nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to be. It was a slice of heaven and the perfect end to ten months of travel.

Return to Bangkok December 15: All good things come to an end, and I bid farewell to Phuket, returned my motorcycle, and bought a ticket on a long-distance bus back to Bangkok arriving the night before my flight to Manilla in the Philippine Islands. I was nearly broke by then, so, like I did in Pokhara, Nepal, I splurged on a nice hotel near the Bangkok Airport that accepted Mastercard. It had an expensive gift shop and I ended up buying a silk bathrobe with an intricate design on the back which we still have in a closet forty-seven years later.

Residual Hash from Amsterdam!!! I used the privacy of my nice hotel room in Bangkok to carefully sift through my entire pack to clean out sand, to look for any contraband I might have stuck into a pocket or nook and cranny during the trip, and to generally get my act together for the return flight to the US and the scrutiny of US Customs in Honolulu. As I sorted through my items, a yellow cannister of Dr. Scholl’s Foot Power caught my eye–it had accompanied me on the entire trip treating my boots a hundred times and still there was powder left. It dawned on me that I had used the Foot Powder container to hide hash in early in the trip when I was going from Amsterdam to Norway. Out of an abundance of caution, I took the dispenser cap off the cannister and poured all the foot powder out into a bag. To my amazement, a chunk of hash was still in the powder! Holy shit–I had transported it throughout Europe, Russia, and across the borders into Turkey and Iran where penalties for smuggling drugs were particularly harsh. I immediately destroyed the contraband right there in my hotel room in Bangkok and had very pleasant dreams:)