Dang Horse

Day 3 in Krabi, Thailand
Friday, July 26th

"Great! I'll be ready in 5 minutes!" I exclaimed to Rich as I ran toward my jungle bungalow to quickly change into my running gear. He agreed to wait for me so I could join him for a morning run through the streets of Ao-Nang Beach in Krabi. 
The sun was strong and the skies were blue. I thought about how peaceful the morning was in this town where just 3 days ago a man from Texas got stabbed to death by 3 Thai musicians using sharpened metal poles. The beautiful limestone stacks to left and beach ahead combined with my runner's high and I had the feeling it was going to be a great day. 
Vasana, (who was the wonderful bungalow owner, chef, maid, and bookkeeper) told us that our taxi would be here soon to bring us to the 1st of our 3 excursions today: horseback riding. 

What this photo lacks in quality, it makes up for in truth! 

After getting in the bed of a pickup truck, our driver, a Thai dude who smelled like he just finished a date with the reefer, asked about our experience with horses. Most of us, including the 2 Swedish girls on board, were beginners. We arrived on the horse ranch about 20 minutes away. I mounted the brown and white horse and after a few tips spoken in broken English, we all took off through the horse ranch toward the beach. The tide was extremely high and already I could tell that my horse did not like the water. I could feel her hooves sinking in the sand and also could tell she was struggling to pull her legs out and move forward. Trying to keep my sneakers dry lasted about 5 seconds. We are really deep. This is not safe! I felt like I was on the back of Artex from The Never Ending Story and we were sinking into the Swamp of Sadness together. However, I wasn't sad. I was SCARED! What if I fell of the horse and my foot got stuck in the stirrup? The Dang horse would unknowingly drag me along until and even after I drown. Fearing my Cannon would get wet or fall in the water,  I swiftly spun my backpack to the front and shoved my camera inside.

I pulled the reigns in the direction I wanted my horse to go despite the rushing waves and hesitantly, she obliged.  Upon our exit from the beach area, we took the paved road for a bit until we reached the forest. Rubber trees colonized both sides of the road and I noticed tiny bowls suspended from each tree trunk collecting rubber. Cool. My horse kept bowing her head and I noticed its front legs were wrapped and she was sweating. At this point, I realized that something was off with my horse, and concluded she was a rebel and most likely hated me. If someone magically rolled up in a golf cart and asked if I wanted a lift back to our jungle bungalow, I would have been seated next to that driver before they finished their question. Maybe I should get off and walk this dumb horse. 
Earlier, Jasmine was the only one in our party who said she was somewhat experienced with horse back riding. Because of this, she grabbed a stick and started whacking her horse in the ass when she wanted to move faster. She was having a great time. With that being said, whenever her horse would take off running, SO WOULD MINE AND ABOUT 4 OTHERS including Marisa's. My horse, Dang,  wouldn't listen when I pulled on the reigns or when I demanded, "Walk!" At one point, Jasmine got so far ahead of our group that we saw her horse leap over a small stream in the distance. When the horse leaned back to begin his jump, she hung off the back of the horse as if she was starring as a princess in a Disney movie. Amazingly, Princess Jasmine not fall off her horse. 

Dang Horse

Dang (maybe named after Dang Fever? Does this horse HAVE Dang Fever?) continued trotting and galloping at will until we reached the break point. When I dismounted, I saw a great photo opportunity and swung my yellow backpack bag around to retrieve my Cannon.  To my dismay, my backpack was open and the camera was missing! "My camera fell out of my backpack!"  was all I could muster. In my deep water panic, I must not have zipped my pack all the way. Shocked and extremely worried, I asked the Thai man who had been tailing us on the moped to search for the camera. He easily accepted the task and I feared the worst. My camera was knocked out of my bag, off a horse, onto the ground and was lying in the middle of the jungle somewhere. The SD card inside contained pictures from Bangkok, Koh Tao, and Railay. I tried to mentally part with them and thought about the pictures that I had taken with my iPhone which was still safely tucked inside my pack. At the same time, I noticed Marisa's leg burns and immediately the burns on my inner calves began to flare up as well. We were idiots to wear shorts and were gripping the leather saddle's fender super tight! Thankfully, Rich loaned her pants and I stepped into my shorts extensions forgoing the opportunity to clean the horse hair out of my sizzling wounds. I just want to get this over with!  After what seemed like 20 minutes, but was only 5, the Thai man on his motorbike rode toward me with my amazingly undamaged $1,000 camera. Phew!
On the return trip, Rich fell off his horse gracefully after his backpack got stuck on a low tree branch and landed in an upright position on the beach. He followed his horse back on foot. Our guide fell off his horse as well and landed in the water.
The tide was low once we reached the beach. Thank God! However, selfish little Dang decided she was only going to leave room for herself to walk under the tree branches. I leaned forward, rested my head next to the horn of her saddle, and held on so tight you couldn't see daylight between the me and that horse. Just when I thought I was coming back with only a few minor leather burns (The running joke so far on the trip was that Kelly was the only person without an injury.) the loop of my backpack got stuck on a tree branch and launched me backward so I was now laying on my back. I wiggled free and sat up just in time to get bashed in the head with a thick tree branch. Of course Dang did not slow down one bit and probably wanted to get this stupid American tourist off her back as fast as possible. That branch hit me so hard that my gray bandanna fell off my head and onto the sand behind me. The swift little Thai man taking photos retrieved it and made sure I was okay. I was livid. 
The route through the ocean was unsafe and stupid. The waves crashed against the poor horses and our sneakers got soaked. With a chunk of ice on my head fastened down by my bandanna and my calves on fire I thought horseback riding sucks! 
Later, Rich and Jasmine had such terrible chaffing on their butt cheeks, that they had to take a trip to the medic to get themselves cleaned and bandaged.
We all had burns from the leather saddle on our inner calves and Marisa had them on her inner thighs as well. Ouch! My injury free days in Thailand were over
If all that pain wasn't bad enough...next we went to Tiger Temple.

After visiting the medic to dress Rich's and her own wounds, Jasmine cleans and bandages Marisa's Thai-style horseback riding battle scars.  

TAKEN to Khao San Road

July 13, 2013
Marisa and I were delirious as we walked away from immigration kiosks in Suvarnabhumi Airport and began hunting for a taxi to take us to our hotel in Bangkok. It was 3 o'clock in the morning and we had been traveling for over 22 hours.The Juke ride with Jorj from Edison to Newark airport seemed like days ago. The immigration line took over an hour to get through and everything was very new and confusing. 
We got a small taste of culture shock as being the only 2 Americans on an airplane filled with Asian people. During our layover in Shanghai, China, we spent 35 Yen on 2 cups of coffee and definitely got the vibe that the barista working there hated American tourists just like the China Eastern Airlines flight attendants we had just experienced. We estimated that 35 Yen converts to about $18, and after having a difficult time attempting to place our order to the woman, we almost aborted Mission: Get Caffeine. The $9 cup of coffee was delicious. (We were totally wrong about the conversion, we'd find out later. The coffees totaled $5.75. Ha ha.) 
We headed toward what we hoped were exit signs to flag a taxi diver. However, instead of us doing the flagging, a young Thai woman in a business suit flashed her badge as she flagged us down, asking, "Do you need a taxi? I work for the airport." She read our reservation confirmation for the Rikka Inn and in what seemed like 3 seconds, we had agreed to her price and were tossing our 45L backpacks into the trunk of her unmarked, white Toyota while exchanging skeptical glances. 
The scent of incense inside her very clean car was as powerful as the fear growing inside of us. We had an overwhelming feeling that we had made a very bad decision. To make matters worse, our driver who may either work for the airport for the sex trade made a phone call as soon as she got in the driver's seat. Instantly, I recalled the Paris airport scene from the movie Taken where the 2 dumb American girls agree to share a taxi with a cute French boy. He made a phone call to the Albanians and I was convinced that she was placing a call to the Albanians who run the Thai sex trade. I also wondered how my father, who has never been out of the US, would come and rescue Kimmy, I mean Marisa and I. 
As the woman spoke in Thai, I tried to think of a way to tell Marisa how I was feeling about this 45 minute cab ride without letting our driver hear us. Until I thought to use the Notes App on my iPhone, we had only been communicating through apprehensive expressions. 

K: Do you think we are being sold into the sex trade?

M: Too soon to say. But i can easily choke this bitch

K: She may have ninja skills. Watch your hair. My samurai sword is under my seat. I've got your back.

M: No company on car is a bit disheartening


At this point, Marisa was showering our driver with questions. We realized her English was not very good. Our initial panic decreased but was definitely still present.

M: Well this is going swimmingly

K: 35 min to go...this scent is very strong

M: Jesus Christ I know.

K: Meant to calm us down...maybe. "We'll meet people ..." 

M: Dude no ideA

K: Should we say we are hungry? To stop and leave us at a Burger King or something and then let them call a cab?

M: Is that what you want to do?

K: How do you feel? If we survive this...I may throw up and shit myself at the same time. Actually, I feel that way right now. No more unmarked cars for us.

M: Yeah. It was a rash decision. My fault.

K: No way...I agreed


It turned out that our driver used her own car to transport people to and from the airport as a second job, hence the Hello Kitty sitting on her dashboard. Forty minutes and 800 baht later, we arrived at one end of Khao San Road at 4am at the peak of the debauchery. 
Four o'clock in the morning in the "Backpacker Ghetto" of Bangkok felt like we arrived late to a party and were the only sober people there. Khao San Road was hot, loud, stinky, and filled with backpackers, vendors, tuk-tuks, taxis, and random people. Our driver, we never called the Albanians, told us that the Rikka Inn was a five-minute walk down the road. However, after 5 minutes, we arrived at the opposite end of the road and had no idea who to ask for help. There weren't any police officers and I didn't give myself enough time to learn how to ask for directions in Thai. We cautiously gripped our backpacks and "frontpacks" and made sure we observed our surroundings carefully, I felt like I was drowning in the chaos. We backtracked to continue our hotel search after consulting 2 intoxicated and very unhelpful English guys. Marisa approached a cute little lady behind a fruit stand and asked for help. She pointed to a woman on a moped who guided us in the right direction. Phew! 
With our moped escort, I finally spotted the rectangular, white sign displaying Rikka Inn. We continued to avoid street vendors and drunks until we reached the entrance. 
After over 24 hours of traveling, much confusion, unidentifiable Asian airplane food, a potential sex trade encounter cab ride, and the chaos that is Khao San Road, we finally unlocked the door to our room on the 4th floor. I dropped my pack, threw myself onto the bed, and let out a long sigh of relief because we didn't get taken and thought, we are in Thailand! 


Khao San Road Video Clip

We Should Have Taken A Greyhound

July 2000
Journal Entry

Miragliotta party of 5 departed 74 Redwood St. in a black limousine. So basically, our trip started off perfectly. Even I was ready to leave on time. We arrived at Newark Liberty International Airport within 45 minutes. We checked our bags, got something gross to eat, and heard an announcement informing us that our 2:30 flight had been delayed until 4:00. Okay, fine. An hour and a half was not that bad.
We continued to sit in the waiting area where we wrote song parodies, played cards and walked to the bathroom about 20 times (we drank a lot of water). As we kept ourselves occupied in Newark Airport, we kept hearing cancellation after cancellation of flights because of bad weather. Naturally, our delay was extended from 4 pm to 7:30 pm. Okay, now my mother is heated, so a Delta man gave her some food vouchers to cheer her up (it worked).
We got hungry again so we walked over to none other than one of the finest of restaurants...Burger King. My lovely mother rushed us through our meal, but I still managed to get my vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.
Upon our return to the very uncomfortable Delta waiting area, we found out that the flight is now delayed until 9:05 pm. Now we are happy that we will still be leaving tonight.
Okay, so on with the trauma...as if this last delay wasn't enough, the airplane is here now, but to our surprise, they say it is "broken." At this point, we all resemble fire breathing dragons because they just announced our flight is canceled.
Lindsey is clueless and is getting more and more talkative which means she is getting more and more annoying. Every person in this waiting area just bugged out at the same exact time. Since I always try to stay positive, I found this rather funny. After my "non-frantic" mother waited in line for 45 minutes to book a new flight, the lady helping the long line had to go home. :o(
Let's analyze this situation. Jackie is going through withdrawal from not seeing Gordy is almost 12 hours, Mom is hysterical because she fears we will miss the cruise, Dad wants to kill every person on the planet (there is a good chance we are included), Lindsey is now crying and beyond annoying and I am having a great time observing it all.
About 20 minutes have gone by and our family now possesses $500 in airfare money, $50 in food vouchers, and a flight booked for 8:00 in the morning. Basically, this means we are sleeping at Newark Airport. I am contemplating suicide using this pen because Lindsey decided to sit next to me.
We are now in a corner laying down on not one, but eleven suitcases. There is a hanger poking me in the back and a toothbrush digging into my leg, but I am okay...really. Lindsey just asked an intelligent question that I thought I might share: "Why are we at the airport?"
After countless hours of tossing and turning on our queen-sized array of suitcases, Lindsey woke up...screaming. She woke up just about everyone in the airport. After she fell back to sleep, I couldn't. Awesome.
Soon after, it was 6:00 am and we went to check our bags again. This time we were flight 2311 instead of 2347. On the menu for our free breakfast was...you guessed it! Burger King! We pretty much "bought" the entire line breakfast in order to use the voucher in its entirety. While dining on greasy hashbrowns, I saw a friend of mine, Sal the Ray Catena guy who was one of my regulars from Applebee's, sitting near us. He was going to Cancun. It must be nice to come to the airport and actually leave on time.
Now we are back at the luxurious Delta airline waiting area, near gate 45. It is now 6:15am.
After a turbulent plane ride (which I pretty much slept through), we finally landed in Florida where it was pouring rain. We found Grandpa Pickles as soon as we got off the plane and he told us, "Your silly asses should have taken a Greyhound."