Emerald Cave

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Fergus

By Evie

Today we went to Emerald Cave (in 4 steps):

Step 1

We walked about 3 metres to the boat, waded out to it and got on. Our guide started the engine and we were off, zooming along, the engine roaring and popping behind us, as we made our way towards Emerald Cave.

Step 2

As we went I kept a sharp lookout for Emerald Cave. Then I saw it. At first I saw only boats, and then the cave. Soon, I knew we would be in a long, dark tunnel, swimming with our guide.

“OK Evie, put this on,” Mummy said, jerking me out of my thoughts. She was holding out a small life jacket for me. I took it and put it on. Next I asked Mummy if she was scared like me. She said she wasn’t. I gulped. Then Mummy jumped off the boat. Then I jumped off the boat. Then Mima jumped off the boat. Then Tettie jumped off the boat. Then Daddy dived off the boat (without a life jacket).

Step 3

When finally we were all in the water, our guide led us over to a creepy, cavernous, cold cave in the side of the low-hanging cliff…

We swam in!

Inside the cave it was no better than it had looked, just a long tunnel leading off into the distance. Then it began to grow dark. I couldn’t see…until the guide switched on his torch.

Step 4

I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff walls with great thunderous BOOMS! Only then I saw the light, we were approaching Emerald Cave. I swam fast towards it until I reached the light, first. But not by far, my sisters were catching up fast. Soon we were all there. It looked like a secret cove with a small beach and big cliffs surrounding it. The only entrance or exit was the tiny dark cave.

Me and Daddy went and looked at some rocks that looked like dinosaurs and then I went in the sea and played silent gliders with my sisters, which is a game where we swim very quietly towards each other and attack (splashing each other).

[Evie and her sisters all wrote about our trip to Emerald Cave as part of homeschool. You can read the other accounts here and here.]

An Adventure in a Sea of Emerald Green

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Fergus

By Scarlett

Today we went to Emerald Cave on a longtail boat. The engine was loud but we put up with it. When we got to Emerald Cave, there was a long tunnel we had to swim through. So, leaving the boat and putting on life jackets that rubbed our arms off, we jumped into the water. Mummy first, them Evie, then Mima, then Tettie, then Daddy. We followed our guide into the tunnel. The water washing on the tunnel wall made an echo like ghosts howling. At the end of the tunnel there was a beach surrounded by cliffs. The emerald green water lapped gently against the sand. The only opening was the tunnel we’d come through.

We were silent gliders for a while, before going back on the same longtail boat. Silent gliders is a game that we play when we are wearing life jackts. We move really quietly towards each other…and attack! (Splash each other). We enjoy it a lot.

[Scarlett and her sisters all wrote about our trip to Emerald Cave as part of homeschool. You can read the other accounts here and here.]

A Tunnel Full of Emerald

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Fergus

By Jemima

Today we did something totally amazing! Well, it doesn’t start off sounding brilliant. First we were woken up by mummy, and then we got dressed. Then she realised she hadn’t suncreamed us – disaster! We had to get undressed again – even more disaster! It was kind of lucky though because I realised I had normal knickers on, instead of bikini bottoms. We got dressed for the second time, and Daddy got back from his run. Then me, Evie, Tettie and Mummy went to the café for breakfast. We ordered muesli, fruit and yogurt. We ordered Daddy fruit and yogurt. In a couple of minuites, Daddy came and ate his up. YUM! YUM! YUM!!!!

When we had finished we waked down the beach, then we waded out a little way to the boat where we climbed up the ladder; we were on the boat! We sat on hard wooden benches for a while, talking. Then the engine started up and the boat turned around. Soon we found ourselves zooming through the sea, with a cliff on one side. In a matter of minuites we came to a group of other longtail boats, where we stopped. The man – our guide – put down the ladder again. We put on our lifejackets – Daddy didn’t want one.

On the boat I had been scared that the rocks would fall on top of us. But when we got into the tunnel it wasn’t that bad. We swam along around dark corners we didn’t know were there. Mummy nearly bumped her head. It was pitch black, but our guide had a torch. When we arrived at last, I saw Emerald Cave. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected it to be like this.

We were in a secret cave or beach. There were cliffs on all sides. On one side, there is sand – the beach. If you stand on the beach and face the sea, you can see an enclosure of rock, except for the tunnel. In front of you there is a sheer cliff face with the tunnel poking through, like a straw. On the left, there is another sheer rock face but with no tunnel, and on the right there is another sheer cliff face with no tunnel. The strange thing is that there were no crabs on the rocks, not one!

We played for a bit then began to swim back down the tunnel. As we went along people kept making spooky ghost noises which helped a lot – not!

Soon we began to see light. We swam along into glowing emerald water and got out in the open at last. It was good to see light all around us – we could see! There were fish all around us too. We boarded the boat and the engine started up for the second time and we were off again. Soon we were back on our beach. We had a little swim, then we went back to the bungalow and Daddy had a little sleep while mummy read us Harry Potter.

When Daddy woke up, we went and had some Thai tea. After that, we went to bed.

Thank goodness it’s the end of the day. That was a very long blogpost – my arm is tired. Phew! Zzzzzzz rec.

[Jemima and her sisters all wrote about our trip to Emerald Cave as part of homeschool. You can read the other accounts here and here. The “rec” at the end is because we have been learning about recurring decimals in maths…]

Hot & Getting Hotter

Posted on February 16, 2014 by Janet

Our estate agent contacted us today. There’s been some damage to the fence in the recent stormy weather in Leeds. Apparently, the giant trampoline blew over in the violent wind and has knocked a panel out.

We’re not talking about a small 1-person trampoline. We’re talking about a triplet-capacity monstrosity; I’m amazed that the wind could be strong enough to move it an inch. Our tenants have taken the netting down which they think will stop it happening again. I hope so, and I’m very glad no one was hurt.

It’s impossible to imagine English weather for us right now. In stark contrast to our friends and family back home, each day that passes turns the temperature dial up a notch. Not only are we approaching the hottest part of the year in SE Asia; every time we move we inch further and further towards the equator.

It’s entirely our own doing, we deliberately factored the ‘eternal summer’ into our itinerary, carefully planning how we could avoid much of the monsoon and move from country to country, making the best of the changing Summer seasons as we go. If we’re lucky, we won’t drop much below 30 degrees most days now until we fly home next August.

The kids have adapted amazingly well to the climate. They very rarely complain, probably because we’re staying close to the sea, so there is always a means of escape. Although I must say, I’m sure I’ve had baths that have been colder than the sea here.

And I’m enjoying it a lot too. I remember now how I loved it last time we went backpacking. At first, the heat is oppressive, but once you get through that stage you just enjoy the warmth right through to your bones; and the ‘smell’ of the heat. It’s an intensity that you just don’t get in Europe, an experience to be savored and appreciated.

But not if you go running any time after 8 in the morning.

Moving On from Koh Chang

Posted on January 31, 2014 by Fergus

Our bungalow on its tall stilts

And already, after just four days, we’re packing up. It’s beautiful here on Koh Chang but it wouldn’t be island hopping without some hopping. So, tomorrow, we’re getting on a speedboat and heading off to Koh Phayam, just a few miles to the south of here.

It’s hard uprooting ourselves. Not least because within moments of arriving anywhere, our rucksacks are empty and our room is suddenly stuffed with clothes, sarongs, hats, a kettle, tea cups, tea (Earl Gray and redbush – thanks, Mum!), sun lotion, a medical bag, a wash bag, a dirty washing bag, packing cubes, games, cards, diaries, pens and pencils, school books, various electrical gizmos, cameras, a multitude of chargers for the gizmos and cameras, inflatable mattresses, sheets, snacks, bottled water and all the other paraphernalia apparently essential to travelling light. It’s surprisingly easy to unpack all that stuff. And surprisingly daunting to somehow fit it back into our bags.

Whenever we stay still too long in any place where there’s not much more to do than wander the same jungle paths or strip of beach, a Groundhog Day effect comes into play, each day blending with the one before. The later days offer diminishing returns of experience.

And, I’m pretty sure there’s something psychologically beneficial to moving on like this. It’s not the house that makes a family. And it’s comforting knowing that we can survive in relative comfort with just what we carry. Or maybe not. Maybe it makes us feel rootless and unconnected and we’ll return to the UK psychologically shattered. I don’t know.

Whatever. We’ve decided to island hop, so it’s time to move on.

Most importantly, though, even more so than the impending mega-pack and possible psychological implications of abandoning the comforting familiarity of our resort, I have a very practical reason for wanting to move on. Our bungalow is one of the most dramatically-located we’ve yet inhabited. It’s perched atop stilts over a rocky outcrop jutting out to sea, directly facing the amazing sunsets you get here. As you sit on the decking, the waves lap the rocks below, crabs shuffling among rock pools. It’s stunning.

But it also scares me. We’re just recovering from one disastrous five-metre fall, and the balcony rail here is so low that every time my girls stand near it I find myself tensing to sprung and catch them should they fall. Even with strict warnings about acting sensibly near the edge (together with constant reminders), I just cannot quite relax. The rocks below are sharp, and of course, very hard.

I really don’t want any more accidents. And Koh Phayam looks like it has very soft beaches.