Joshua Tree: A Land of Subtle, Stark Wonder

I’d never been to Joshua Tree National Park before. I’d heard about it from friends, and often said to myself I should go there, but I never got around to it. Like a lot of things in California, it was so close that it was easy to forget it was there. California is like that, so full of things to see and experience your choices become as congested and difficult to maneuver as the freeways of Los Angeles.  A friend of mine, back from teaching kids in Korea for the winter, asked me to join him on a day long excursion to this special place, and not having seen him in almost two years I could not refuse. Besides, it would be good to get away after a truly awful divorce from someone I thought I could trust. This is also a common thing in California.

Joshua Tree National Park, California

Like most people, in my youth I thought of a desert as a barren, boiling wasteland choked with sand. I thought of Lawrence of Arabia leading a charging army of fierce desert nomads. Deserts were places for the lost and the damned, filled with shallow graves just off the road and swarmed by nefarious hitchhikers and shady characters. Giant worms ridden by noble Fremen charged across endless dunes. It was easy to believe the Hollywood vision. And nothing could be further from the truth (except when it is). Deserts (yes there are different kinds), as varied as any other environment you’ll pass through, team with survivors, creatures so well adapted they thrive in places that can suck the life out of a person in a few hours.

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Bali to Bangkok, Part 5

The final chapter of Bali to Bangkok (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)...

Soon I found myself showered and with a full stomach slipping into this big soft bed covered and comfy, relaxed and drifting off into a deep undisturbed sleep. It was early around 7:30 or 8:00 P.M. and I was ready to drift away till morning. Alas, Heaven turned to Hell at about 9:30 P.M. when a band fired up in the bar below me and at screaming Mack 5 decibels. The Thai’s have only one setting on their amps, all the way up. This went on until 3:00 A.M. With ear plugs and my head buried inside double pillows there was no relief. I began to feel like I was a prisoner at Guantanamo being tortured into signing a confession for having committed some heinous terrorist act.

In the morning I lay there in bed trying to recover a little bit from the torture I had just endured. I sat up and without my glasses I saw what looked to be on the snow white sheet a small black bug, looking like an ant I squished it with my thumb blood the size of a dime dominated the spot where this little creature had once been, bright red blood, my blood. Then I spotted another squished to as well and again bright red blood. Bed bugs! In all my travels I have not before encountered these vile creatures.

Bali to Bangkok by Robert Varney

That was it, with bloodshot eyes I staggered down the stairs to the front desk and explained to the desk manager that there was no way that I could possibly endure such another night.  And, that regrettably as lovely as the room was, it was never going to give me a restful night, something I now desperately need. I began to feel like a refugee fleeing from a war zone as I staggered across the street to yet a third guest house to inquire as to the availability of a room far from the little bar, bed bugs and loud music. I was shown on the third floor in the back a small but seemingly adequate room and the price was within reason so I now have moved for the third time in as many nights. Home at last?

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Bali to Bangkok, Part 4

Bali to Bangkok continues (Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)...

I quickly take up my bags, scurry out of the office, down the stairs, cross the lines of people, find counter number K14 walk up, and present my ticket. I ask the attendant if I can get on standby, she looks at the computer and says, “Yes, please check your bag here and you have 15 minutes to get to gate B6 before boarding.” Off I went in a dead run. Security check. Off with the shoes, belt, watch, cell phone… next they will ask to remove the fillings in your teeth. Scanned and screened, I recapture all my stuff and resume my fast pace to B6. As luck would have it, it is another seeming mile away.

Bali to Bangkok by Robert Varney

Running between horizontal escalators past the boutique shops selling bags and watches and duty free items I go. Alas, panting and out of breath I arrive just as they are announcing my boarding number and I slide into the plane and find my seat. I try to rest and gather my wits during the 1 ½ hour flight. We land. I disembark, gather the bags, find a taxi stand, buy a ticket to Karon Beach, wait forever for the taxi, jump in paying too much as this is not a time to try and bargain (it’s now close to midnight), and sit back in the cab gathering my breath once again. What is often as much as a two hour ride is cut in half due to the absence of any traffic at this hour; the streets are wide open and we make record time.

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Bali to Bangkok, Part 3

Bali to Bangkok continues (Read Part 1, Part 2)...

Off I went to locate my bag. The information counter misunderstood me; I should have just shown her my flight number on my baggage claim. As it was not at what I discovered to be an empty carousel. Rechecking at yet another Information stand, I was to then find that my bag was at the complete opposite end from where I now stood. So off I went not yet realizing what valuable time this had cost me.

I arrived to see only one lonely bag left slowly orbiting around waiting for me to reunite with it. Grabbing it up and locating a baggage cart, off I went to find the departure floor and check what I then presumed to be one of several airline counters which had flights to Phuket. The departure floor is up three stories. There is a lift that will accommodate the baggage carts, but the line for this was too long. I abandoned the cart and lugged my bag up the escalator. At last inside the departure area and to inquire as to when would be my soonest opportunity to grab a flight to Phuket. Soon I realize that whereas last year there were many companies; there are now none. What?! I go to Information, and ask what happened to all the airline counters that were just there last year. Gone. Now there are only two airlines that have flights to Phuket. Thai and Bangkok airlines. Thai ticket sales, I was informed, was just across the many check-in counters at the end of Isle N. Above that up the elevator is Bangkok. Off I go to test my luck, which has not been proven to be so kind thus far.

Bali to Bangkok by Robert Varney

I worked my way through the throngs of people checking in, until I was able to cover the distance between the entrances of the check in area and the Thai Air ticketing office. The ticketing office resembled a bank of tellers. One was then obliged to use a small machine to get a number and watch and wait until your number came up on a screen informing you as to which of the several ticketing agents were free to accommodate you. There were several people before me, and then at last my number came up. 

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