After my last entry, we decided to spend a long, wonderful day hanging out by the pool. We wanted to use Koh Lanta as a relaxing getaway before we head to Bangkok, which will be all hustle and bustle. So we brought our books down by the pool, ordered drinks and soaked in a little too much sun.

After our experience at the Relax Bay restaurant, we decided it would be wise to see what other dining experiences are available on Koh Lanta. It's cheaper to rent a motorbike than take taxis, so I picked up a key from the resort's front desk, and we boldly set out to see what we could find.

It's been years since I've ridden a motorcycle or scooter. Rather than hop and go, I told Shaunna to stay behind in the lobby while I gave it a test-drive. I was dressed appropriately for biking on Koh Lanta: hat, sunglasses and a bandana wrapped around my face - all in an effort to save my lungs and eyes from the dust buffet of the road.

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I started the engine, shifted into gear and tore off down the road. A group of Thai men were yelling at me from the side of the road as I came around a blind curve. It was then that I thought, "you're on the wrong side of the road!"

I hastily swerved over just in time to avoid a pack of tourists on motorbikes coming in the opposite direction. I was giggling (nervously) and loving the feel of the wind blowing through my hair.... all of this happened in a matter of seconds.

Around another bend there was a pack of people around a white dude who, like me, was just getting used to the feel of a motorbike. It looked like they were giving him instructions when all of a sudden he lurched forward into the road. I gripped the hand brake and felt the bike slide into a loose patch of dirt. The back end of the scooter wobbled underneath me, and I could see the guy in front me fearfully writhing and pushnig his bike backwards. His eyes widened, and the men all around him scurried away screaming. It seemed like an inevitable crash was going to happen, but I gained control of my bike, swerved around him and missed him by a hair.

Once again, I was laughing like a wild man, and I honked my horn as I roared down the road. I was so relieved that Shanna was safely back at the resort, because I know her extra weight would have sent us plowing into the other guy.

After riding a kilometer down the road, I finally got the hang of it. I decided to fill up the tank, do a few more tests and then pick up Shaunna.

In researching our restaurant options, we read about the View Point Restaurant which is located on the other side of the island. It sits on a high hilltop and looks over a stunning view of the east side of the island.

As is the case with many maps of Thailand, our map of Koh Lanta was confusing and not to scale. We spent twenty minutes trying to find the turn for the road across the island. We stopped and asked a Thai woman if we were going the right away, and she just pointed down the road. Eventually it occurred to us that we were on the right road. The so-called "turn" was merely a bend in the street, and the original road we were on ventured off down a side street before continuing down the length of the west side of the island... Very tricky.

We sped past some Muslim villages and over a few hills before we arrived at the View Point. We hopped off the bike, entered onto the pavillion and took in the awesome view. A table of heavily-tattooed and pierced farang sat at one table at the end, so we took a seat on the other side. Nothing against them, really.. we just wanted some privacy and a better view...

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A very friendly Thai man came up and took our drink order. A lady came up, told us about the specials and offered some recommendations. We accepted her offers and sat back to marvel at the scenery. A Muslim town sat further down the hill, and a rowdy game of football (aka: soccer) commenced with cheers and shouts.

Shaunna opted for the massive prawns with garlic...

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I had the fried fish with curry...

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After a couple of Beer Changs and a delicious meal, we sat back and discussed how odd the tourists are in Thailand. Before we came, we studied up on the culture and attempted to learn as much as we could.

Most Thai women do not wear shorts unless they're participating in sports or hanging out on the beach. Thai men (in the north and northeast) don't wear shorts either... In the south, it's a little more common. Many of the cities in the south are Muslim, so it's not uncommon to see women with headscarves (and even the occasional burka!) and men with turbans or skullcaps. Public exposure is kept to a minimum. Topless sunbathing is definitely a no-no! But alot of tourists seem to ignore these rules.

In an effort to be culturally sensitive, we purchased clothes that would help us avoid some of the frowns and sideways comments that come from being an ugly farang. Shaunna bought capri pants and loose, but discreet, clothes to avoid the heat. I've reserved my knee-length shorts for the times and places where it is appropriate.

Oddly, America has its cultural roots in Puritanism, but we pride ourselves on dressing liberally. But the Europeans here really push the limits. It's wierd to see European women wearing tight biker shorts, bikini tops and ultra-revealing clothes in public. Even the men push the limits. I've seen guys prancing around in shorts so small and tight they make my underwear look like a tent. I don't really care what kind of banana hammock a guy wants to wear under his clothes, but my Yankee sense of taste (decency?) really makes me cringe when I see some dude proudly strutting with his ping-pong ball on display.... especially on the streets of Thailand! What about cultural sensitivity?

Shaunna and I have enjoyed a couple of laughs and odd glances whenever we come across people who don't seem to care. If they were in the US, cool... no problems... but in a little Muslim village? I don't get it. It's no wonder the term farang often has a negative undertone.

Anyhow, as we were having this discussion, the mosque in the town below announced the call to prayer, and we saw people rushing to their scooters and walking towards the mosque. All around us was a soothing symphony of cicadas, chirping birds, and the words of prayer drifting over the hills. The sun set over the island, and we could hear chants and songs right below our feet.

We headed back to the resort and spent the evening laughing about cultural differences. We've both had moments of frustration dealing with different groups of European tourists (and a French chef), so it was a relief to joke about it and question how odd we are as Americans...

Around 2am I woke up with searing pain in my gut. Visions of dinner returned to me as I spent the next hour sitting on the toilet..

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I prayed that I wouldn't be sick for our cooking class the next day. The rumblings continued through the night and into the morning. After breakfast and a few anxious trips to the bathroom, the worst was behind me. As a precaution, I took some immodium and drank a couple bottles of water.