…Another hour went by.

And another.

An umbrella would have been nice

Layla had gone into her bag at one point and noticed that the shitty rain mac had served no purpose at all – her entire handbag was wet.  Her purse, her money, even her passport.  I’ve got to hand it to her though, she just shrugged. There was nothing she could do.

Nine long, wet hours later, our boat arrived.  We pushed straight on and collapsed.

The saga wasn’t over yet though.  The storm was so bad the boat was heaving from side to side with such force we feared it would capsize.  We had both taken many boats around Thailand but this was like nothing else.  Everyone on board had that strained, slightly crazed look, green with nausea and exhaustion.

Around four hours later, it was pitch black outside but we realised the boat had  started to slow, we were here.  For some reason we weren’t able to fully dock though, the storm was making it impossible.

As everyone scuttled to grab their bags, I lost Layla. I knew she must have gone to the front to get her backpack. I only had my little daypack with me so I waited by the back door to get out.  Everyone was holding on to the seats as the boat thrashed around.  As the queue began moving out the door, I watched with sheer horror at the black waves – so high they were slamming the boat into the side of the pier.

My stomach dropped. I felt so vulnerable.  I couldn’t help but wish Roscoe was there at that moment, he always makes me feel safe.  Natural instinct told me this was too dangerous.

Just as I was thinking this, a huge wave hit the end of the pier and there was a quick flash of a man falling in.  The boat crashed once more against the side and I thought that was his body being crushed.  The girls in front of me screamed. Speechless, I covered my mouth, too scared to move.

Loud shouts in Thai halted anyone from disembarking the boat.  Men were scrambling trying to see where he was in the thunderous black water. My heart was racing a thousand beats a minute.  I can still feel the fear now.

Suddenly, thankfully, the man appeared.  He had managed to hold on to the pier somehow and climbed up, he was drenched but he smiled.  I’d like to say this made me feel better but I was shaking like a leaf. The sense of panic in the air was so thick you could taste it.

Moving everyone to the front of the boat where the waves weren’t crashing as hard, we now queued to get off.  Each person had to time their attempt with every swell, the board between the boat and pier, thrashing wildly.

I made it across.

But the trauma still wasn’t over.  I had forgotten how truly awful the Chumpon pier was.  It’s just a pile of Jenga sticks stuck together. I could feel the pier moving underneath us. The wood was so slippery, everyone was in flip flops and we all slipped and many fell.  It was the longest walk till the end, done in almost pitch black darkness whilst being pounded with rain.

At the other end I managed to find Layla.

I was in a right state. She hadn’t seen what I had seen and I’m glad she didn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that flash of the man falling.

I still couldn’t quite believe that we were now 12 hours into our journey and only half way.

You’ll be glad to hear that we made it into Bangkok around 6am the next morning. We had to wait an age for a bus, the journey  took another 10 hours and we were spat out the other end, only an entire day and night late. Our dreams of a nice meal and night out where dashed. We passed out for a few hours before waking, enjoying a send off meal and then just like that, she was gone.

Our rather tired send off meal...

I love Thailand but this was one journey I’d rather forget.

…Furious, freezing, and quite frankly completely over this whole experience, we now sat at the end of the pier, staring out into an angry ocean with ferocious waves lashing against the pier.

I joined the throngs of shouting would-be passengers, many from the original 9am group, vehemently angry that the staff had basically let people on who were from the later group, disregarding us early birds entirely.  Clearly nothing would make any difference, the boat was still late, no amount of shouting was going to get it here any sooner.

waiting at the Pier as the skies turn...

We resorted to plonking our wet bottoms on the floor, cowering from the incessant ran.

Another hour went by.

Then two.

Around three o’clock I peeked out from under my hood to see another boat appearing. Thank fuck.  We were now six hours late, cold, wet and thoroughly pissed off.

The closer the boat came, the more pier staff seemed to appear. They were cordoning off the entry area. We quickly got in the queue, sensing something was up.  When the boat finally arrived we noticed they were turning people away, people who had the same colour ticket as us. What the fuck was going on?

Before we knew it, hundreds of passengers had pushed in front of us, waving their ticket and we were pushed and shoved not knowing what was going on.  Despite our ridiculous delay, they were only letting on the people who were originally due to leave at three.

The Kiri Wrath exploded.

I began screaming at the little Thai lady who was standing on the other side of the barrier.  She was totally overwhelmed and drenched to the bone. She had been crying for the last ten minutes and my sympathy had gone straight overboard. Why is she crying when we are the ones who have been here for six hours?

Furious 9am passengers were now jumping over the barriers. The staff weren’t able to control who was getting on at all. We didn’t understand any of the Thai they were spewing at us.

It was far too difficult to attempt to jump with our bags.  In hindsight, I’m glad we now didn’t as I’m guessing this boat wasn’t going to the same drop off point on the other side. If only the staff had told us that in the first place, there wouldn’t have been such mayhem. But this is where communication in Thailand often fails.  We were kept in the dark the whole time.

Two boats had now left and we were still on Koh Phangan soaking wet, being pummelled by the worst storm the island had seen in weeks. Layla and I kept giving each other exhausted but reassuring hugs, attempting to laugh at the sheer madness of it all. We should have been on our coach by now, out of the rain and on target for BKK.

And another hour ticked by…