The Pink Panther

Thai people, apparently like much of Asia, have very little regard for the rules of the road. There are no such things as lanes, and passing happens as close as possible to the slow vehicle. Right-of-way seems to be a concept as foreign as snow. Traffic lights are optional. And those double yellow lines that in Canada mean "very dangerous, absolutely no passing"? In Thailand they don't seem to mean that, but they should, considering they are only found up a hill and around a corner.

So when we rented a charming little scooter Lynae was a little scared. She reminded me of the time I allegedly almost killed her when I took her for an exciting Sea-doo ride 10 years ago. Also of the time I allegedly almost killed her with my other siblings in a speedboat 12 years ago. Bah. Of course she also reminds me that the Thai people drive on the left side of the road, which maybe difficult getting used to, Denise, when you have been driving on the right all your life. Double bah.

So with her gripping my waist rather tightly, I gave the little scooter some throttle as I wobbled down the street, dodging a mini bus in the process. And here we are, alive to talk about it.

We originally wanted our own scooters. However, we neglected to bring our driver's licenses to Thailand and were informed that the police love to prey on white people driving scooters and fine them when they are unable to produce a license. The lady basically told us to expect this more than once. A fine is only 300 baht, the equivalent of about $10, but we could get a Thai massage on the beach for the same price, and fines seemed to be a dreadful way to cut into our travel budget. Especially if we both got hit multiple times. In comparison, to rent the scooter for 24 hours was only 250 baht. So we rented just one. And to avoid unnecessary suspense here, we didn't get one fine. One explanation was that the Thai Police don't work too hard to Sundays.

Our scooter was pink, and Lynae wittingly named him "The Pink Panther" when I suggested that he needed a name. You all know my obssession with naming things. Before you think of us girls as silly and frivolous, renting a pink scooter, let me inform you that the color pink is everywhere in Thailand. It started when we boarded the Thai airlines plane, where the seats were purple with bright pink designs. Then we saw pink taxis, macho men wearing pink helmets, pink bowls, pink this, pink that. Therefore, we could only chuckle at our gleaming pink scooter.


The glorious thing about Phuket is that the mountains collash with the ocean. Therefore, we would whir up a remote road, surrounded by trees, turn a sharp bend, and be hit by a view so breathtaking I would almost crash. A cliff overlooking the vast ocean, as blue as my dad's Dutch eyes. Sand as white as lace. Palm trees and other lush greenery covering the mountains like a garment. Seeing the terrain of Thailand on the scooter was like seeing the most amazing scenery on the big screen, like Lord of the Rings, live and in person, and even that doesn't begin to justify the magnificence.

We puttered around on the scooter for a while, through the mountains, around the bend, and along the coast. At particularly steep inclines, The Pink Panther would chug, me giving her all she's got, and still only pushing 40 kph at best. But going down was fun: no throttle needed. I actually had to give the brakes all they had, spurned, in part, by Lynae's increasingly tight death grip on my waist. The only thing that would have make the day any better was if the Pink Panther was subbed with my Honda Shadow.


We ate lunch on the beach, sitting down Indian style at a table with stubby legs. I ordered seafood salad. "Spicy ok?" He asked in a thick accent. "Yes, ok," I said with a smile. You all know my love for spicy food, and I can tolerate it fairly well.

But one bite of this and I felt like someone had detonated a bomb in my mouth. I chugged water. I sucked ice cubes. I blew my nose. My eyes poured tears. "Oh...my...goodness," I sputtered.

Lynae took one of whiff of it, claimed it burned her nostrils, and told me to order something else. But I had to finish it. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was determination not to let the food get the best of me. Maybe it was the prawn and squid and calamarie staring at me, having sacrificed their lives for my dinner. Every bite seemed to have a fire pepper in it. But I did (hack, cough) finish my lunch (Lynae, can I have some of your water?). I swear all tastebuds were annihilated. My mouth burned solidly for 15 minutes.

After that near death experience, we scootered around some more, went to the beach, lazed around, had dinner on the beach and watched the sun set. Then we said bye-bye to our lovely Pink Panther.

Must jet. You will all get a treat in the next day or so when Lynae will dazzle you with her own post.