We got up late this
morning and wandered down to the pier to get some breakfast. The
restaurant we chose was populated by numerous little bob-tailed cats,
including a tiny, absurdly scrawny ginger kitten. In common with a
lot of the other restaurants on Don Det, it also had a rather squalid
day-bed out the front (it was one of the first things you saw as you
entered), where the staff could lie down and watch television during
the restaurant's many quiet moments.
After breakfast we
set off to walk around the eastern edge of the island (the so-called
Sunrise Boulevard) and across to Don Khon, the island on which we had
planned to stay. Don Det has a reputation as a backpacker hang-out.
There isn't much to do there except laze around in a hammock drinking
beer and smoking dope. Don Khon is supposed to be a bit more
'authentic', which is why we had chosen to stay there, but as it's
low season, it seems to be very quiet everywhere. The path around the
island took us first past a series of restaurants and guesthouses and
then into a more rural area, where pigs wallowed in mud and chickens
pecked in the grass.
We eventually made
it to the bridge across the river to Don Khon. You have to pay an
entry fee to get onto the island and as we stepped up to the ticket
office, the guy behind the counter didn't even bother to look up from
the game he was playing on his phone. Kate asked him a question and
he still didn't respond, so we both laid into him, explaining calmly
just how rude he was being and how appalling it was that they were
charging us all this money to cross onto the island and he couldn't
even manage to show us a little common courtesy. He quickly put the
phone away and looked suitable abashed as he took our money and
handed over our tickets.
Our first stop was
at an old steam train – a remnant of the seven-kilometre
narrow-gauge railway, built by the French in the late 19th
century, that used to link the two islands. We then set off for the
'waterfall', the only real 'sight' on the islands, which, when we
reached it, turned out to actually be a series of rapids where the
riverbed takes a big step down. They may have been misnamed, but the
rapids were certainly impressive, with an enormous volume of water
gushing through gaps in the rocks. Within those gaps we could see
flimsy-looking structures that the local fisherman use for
essentially scooping out fish that are sucked down and into the
torrent, but they're not in use at the moment.
The viewing area for
the 'waterfall' is set on a large island in the river, to which our
tickets allowed us access. It had a number of paths on it, along
which were dotted clumps of bamboo that had been curved over to form
bamboo 'tunnels'. At one end of the island there's a restaurant and
bar with several small 'bungalows' spread out along the river bank.
We bought some drinks and sat for a while in one of them watching the
water rush by, before crossing back to the mainland. There's a
collection of small restaurants and market stalls adjacent to the
ticket office, and we had a little browse through the latter,
eventually buying some pashminas for Kate and the girls – birthday
presents for Sarah and Zoe. Just as we were paying for them, it
started to rain a little. We headed up the road and it started to
rain a lot, so we scampered back under cover in the market. It was
lunch time by now, so we scanned the restaurants, but none of them
appealed, so we crossed back over onto the waterfall island and went
back to the restaurant at the far end. After checking through the
menu at the bar, we ordered a few dishes but were then told that
there were only four options available, so we just got some fried
rice, chips and beers. Looking down at another of the bungalows we
noticed that the large family that just left had barely touched their
food – several plates of fried rice were sitting on the table. This
fact hadn't escaped the attention of the local cats, who quickly
jumped up and dined like feline kings.
The rain stopped
while we were eating and when we were done, we walked into the middle
of the island looking for the train tracks that Kate thought we could
walk along. We eventually figured out that the road we were walking
along was probably the old train line – the tracks had surely been
removed a long time ago – and we decided to give up and return to
our island. There were some ominous-looking clouds in the sky as we
walked and as it happens, we turned back just in time, as it started
to pour with rain just as we got to the bridge. We and several other
tourists all hastily descended on the closest restaurant and then
helped to move chairs and table in under cover. We were still a bit
peckish, so we ordered some fried rice and beer, and sat playing
cards as we waited for the rain to stop. We then walked under a light
drizzle back through the middle of the island, past rice paddies where farmers crouched planting new seedlings, dodging puddles in
which numerous tiny metamorph frogs congregated. On the way, a couple
of young Dutch girls stopped us to ask what there was to do on the
island and how far it was to the area in which we were staying. Their
guesthouse was near the bridge and they had been slightly taken aback
at how quiet it was. We stood chatting with them for quite a while
and then walked back to 'town', where we had dinner at a small but
very popular Indian restaurant. While we ate, two slightly older and
very voluble American guys sat at the adjacent table. They had been
based in Bangkok for several years and were making little hops around
Southeast Asia in their holidays. They recommended a restaurant down
Sunrise Boulevard called Street View, so we'll probably go and check
it out tomorrow.
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