Krabi on the Andaman Coast

In Krabi.

Typing quickly.

The night market outside is closing down. Got a mixed fruit shake. Test like lime, deep papaya banana and sweet of pineapple. Frozen. Good in the night time balm. Traveled through the mangroves today. Long wooden boat. Hundreds of pictures. Caves. Unreal limestone buttressing, blitzing up and out from the otherwise waterlevel mudjungle. Unreachable and unreached tropical trees growing vertical on the crest, islands of the wild. The limestone drips down in formations from the highest, like teeth or gritty icicles. Vines from strangler fig drape down vainly, grasping and swaying in the void.

Climbed on my belly along a vertical wooden ladder into a chest width hole in the undercarriage of a face. Crept into the light, into a gaping vaulted cavern. Sunlight spilling through from an opening, like a focal point, like a church. Bats in the ceiling. Clinging, creaking. Fingers of stone reaching from floor to ceiling. Connecting. Only after millenia. Dust. I climbed up a bare rope to a highlook. Scraped my nuckles bloody on the way down. Jungle stretched away endless from my window, the stained-glass vista.

Consumed frogs. Super spicy, in green curry on rice, on fire. Take raw cucumber from the table’s center to cool the burn. Fried split fishes. Spices. Watsfull. Squid grilled on a stick, anatomically sound. Fruit. A heavy word.

Sketches. Was gifted a small Moleskin in Dublin. Filling it up with WWOOFing names. Searching. Seeking.