Jungle hut (km 910, Suk Samran-Khao Sok National Park)

Khao Sak, 24.12.2012
The day started with a broken back in our Thai motel. Opening the door a little lake with ducks welcomed us. Other inhabitants came to visit, especially a peacock and some turkeys.
Hot shower, instant coffee and off we went to check out last night’s beach during daylight. Unfortunately there was no sun over the spotless white beach full of shells and framed by some limestone rocks covered with jungle.
The road south towards Takua Pa leads through an amazing tropical forest. The cloudy sky and occasional rain enriched the scenery. We bought fresh fruit on the roadside and checked out a fisher men’s village (video to be added upon return). Shortly before arriving in Takua Pa the road to various national parks leaves to the east.

A couple of km inland we had lunch at a roadside “food and drinks” place. Shrimp noodle soup and fried rice with chicken (spices to be added at discretion were soy sauce, spicy vinegar, ground chili or sugar), water and Leo beer, 180 thb. We barely started the car when we encountered an elephant on the roadside and took pictures of tetka Kena i slon for Emma. Another few km later a jungle valley opened up in front of us, framed by various mountains and topped with clouds.
Finally we arrived at the national park. We tried Our Jungle House, the last huts at the end of the smallest road. Very lovely huts in the trees along a little river with crystal clear water (950-2100 thb), fantastic views on jungle and the nearby rocks, but completely booked. Only place available was a tent on the river, with the river being the shower and toilet, 500 thb. Looking at the sky it looked like rain, so we decided against the tent. Once you found the best and can’t have it, the fear of finding only a B-place is there. But 2 mins back on the road we found some other huts (600 thb), and are writing this from a veranda overlooking the river, enjoying a watermelon and listening to the jungle noise. I’m trying to spot the Vietcong crawling up the river to invade our bungalow while I wait for a platoon of British prisoners marching to their forced labor camp to build a bridge.
In the meanwhile the raindrops fall on the roof of the bungalow and the tree leaves around us, making very different noises.