My interpretation of the memorable ferry ride in pencil |
We decided to leave Koh Tao on an impulse. Can’t quite advocate unplanned ventures or adventures but more than often have gone that way! Undeniably, it has failed me a few times. Nonetheless, the apparent escapist in me said, that planning and then failing is more defeating than not planning and failing! Or better still an unexpected result, win or fail is perhaps more gratifying than an expected one. Well, philosophies aside, we elected to head south.
A
few many knocks on the doors of half a dozen travel agencies finally got us two
last-minute tickets for the night ferry to Surat Thani. The ferry was a
complete chock-a-block! 8 in the night the little port seemed alive with festive
exuberance. There were few Thai natives and a swarm of enthusiastic
young Western tourists. Most of them were in their early twenties, I presumed. I
could hear the excitement and eager introductions going around. ‘Hiya! I am John from the UK..oh kool I am Monica from Switzerland. A German couple… A group of students
from France. Wow! The world had just come to a small South Asian port at this
hour of the night.
Our
big bags were stowed away in the cargo section with number slips handed out and
then we boarded in a queue (I make a particular mention of this pleasant word
because it's such a rarity in my part of the world, unfortunately!). On the basis
of first come first serve, some got the cabins with beds and I muttered in my
mind ‘Jeez what a miss!’ only to realize in the next hour, that it was a miss worth well. The next in the queue were
given mattresses and pillows and the final last-minute-ers including us got coir
mats and the invaluable instruction to find ourselves a place (if we can) to safely
rest our butts!
We
were on the topmost deck. It was clean though crammed with people, drinking,
laughing, and merrymaking; seemed like a partying cruise. Scampering through
the crowd and dodging the carefree passengers sitting on the deck floor with beer bottles in their hands, we finally managed to get ourselves to a strip of vacant space
exactly in front of the engine room.
What
lay before us was the last railing protectively separating us from the endless starry sky and the
endless gurgling sea - almost inviting us to dive into that seeming limitlessness. I wasn’t sure if the gooseflesh bespoke the
chill breeze brushing against the skin or the hypnotic panorama in
front of my eyes. We spread the mat, leaned against the backpacks, and wrapped
the stole around. The chill had started to pinch. Yes! it wasn’t a dream.
Countless
stars had irradiated the clear January sky. The sea was calm, the air bore the
moist seaweed smell, and often times I could hear the waves splash against the
ferry walls. Before long I was in a trance. For the next many hours,
while time stood still, I sat reminiscing and reflecting on all the myriad
moments gone past in the last many years. Maybe this is how close one can get to peace. A quarry we pursue so relentlessly to actually chase it away most often.
Suddenly,
the ship's haunting horn blasted through the dead silence of the night
interrupting my introspection. I could see distant lights moving….another
ferry….carrying another traveler from another distant land to another distant
destination.. who might be wondering quite like me, 'Perhaps this is where the stars meet the sky!'
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