Sunday dawned, humid and overcast...but still hot. We'd booked a Sunset Cruise around Phang Nga Bay, complete with on-board lunch and dinner, and guides for the exploration of the hongs. (Hong means room, and these are literally natural rooms or spaces inside limestone islands, with the tops open to the sky.)

Once again, we raided the breakfast buffet and laid waste to several platefuls of food. Departure time was around 11:15 so we had ample time before the minibus would arrive to fetch us across to Ao Por at Bang Rong on the other side of the island. We'd been told to bring along swimming costumes, towels and a change of clothing. Any worries about getting cameras wet were dispelled by the news that there'd be waterproof bags for them to be stored in.

We gathered - along with the usual crew of South Africans - outside the hotel. The bus was late so I wandered around on the traffic island across the way, taking arty pics and mucking around. Also walked up the bridge a bit to peer at the fishermen's village that was slightly upriver from the hotel. It was newly-built after the tsunami and still has that raw, shiny look to all the buildings.

A while later the minibus arrived and we piled in. A few stops along the way in Patong to pick up other travellers at other hotels, and we were on our way. (Almost all were South Africans.) The journey took about 40 minutes and for me it was fascinating.

Rubber plantations abound (there is almost no virgin jungle on Phuket any more). There's areas that are distinctly Muslim with people in Muslim dress and Muslim buildings scattered close by. So many of the houses face the road - or are smack-bang on the road's edge - and you'll often see someone fast asleep in his hammock, swaying on the verandah, metres from the traffic. Most houses have narrow frontages and stretch back from the road, but there's space either side for a garage or a shed and the usual motor-scooter/s parked there.

Schools are rather bleak-looking (to my eyes), just big slabs of buildings with rows of windows and basic playing fields out front. And talking of playing fields, I only ever saw soccer being played in Phuket - although I did hear afterwards that there was a six-a-side cricket tournament that took place in Karon a few days after we left.

When we got to Ao Por, we climbed out the taxi and into the now-usual wall of heat punctuated by **that** drain smell. Icky...

We were shown to a shed where we picked up life-jackets, and were then directed to walk down the road to a long creaky wooden pier that stretched out to where some longtail boats were waiting for us. These took us further out to a double-decker cruiser.

A very smiling crew helped us onto the cruiser and not long afterwards we left. We were invited to help ourselves to cooldrinks (pepsi, mirinda, etc). The kids and I went to the front of the boat and leaned out over the rail to watch the open waters of the bay go past. A turn to port and we headed up into Phang Nga Bay conservation area....

While we cruised, the main guide introduced himself and gave us a talk on the area. What the hongs are, how they were made, what we could expect, and various rules of conduct like no polluting the area with excess noise(!) or litter.
(To get an idea of what hongs are like http://images.google.co.za/images?q=hongs+%22Phang+Nga%22&hl=en&btnG=...)

After the talk we watched the scenery go by, and then a group of crew members joined us, introducing themselves all round as the dedicated guides who'd take us in pairs in the rubber canoes. Thank goodness I think fast.... Really, what is the point of going out in a canoe, into caves and caverns, and into the wonders of nature if you don't have someone decent to look at, er, I mean... talk to. **ahem**yes**well.... Eloise is just like me. She spotted the best-looking guy, I mean... guide immediately. We grabbed, I mean... introduced ourselves to him quickly (me Fi, she El, you Farook), before anyone else could interfere, I mean... interrupt.... Oh what a lovely er, I mean.. view, oops... trip this was going to be....! El, being El, clicked with him right away and I was there just to, well, to ... I was there. Too. Just.......

It was still very overcast but humid, and our journey was an easy cruise across a very calm sea to the islands. The kitchen crew, meanwhile, were throwing bits of discarded chicken skin out onto the sea. Seabirds like kites were diving and swooping off the cliffs of the islands, grabbing these morsels as they flew through the air. At one point there were about 20 hawks or kites following the boat!

Our guide was very chatty, so too was the guide, Billy, allocated to Edgar and Gareth. We had all sorts of things pointed out to us, and soon we heard the crew working on the canoes down below, inflating them and preparing everything for our first trip onto the water and into an island.

Getting into one of the sea-canoes was something else. Imagine a yellow craft about 15ft long, made of two long inflatable side tubes, with a flat piece in the middle where you park your bum. A bit like a large flattened banana with puffy sides? To get into it, we had to go to the back of the cruiser, onto a flat deck that overhung the water. Each canoe - with guide - would be out on the water, and as each pair of travellers was ready to go, that guide would paddle the craft next to the deck and we'd get in, carefully. We were last to go, with me at the front, El in the middle and Farook paddling behind.

Out on the water it was lovely. A gentle (hot) breeze, water lapping against the sides, the island looking mysterious in jungly magnificence ahead of us. El was all a-chatter to her new fella (he'd been enslaved by her within minutes) and they discussed everything from CartoonNetwork and Boomerang to favourite movies. I got to ask clever questions too. "Is that a bird? What kind is it? What is that noise?"   Yes. Verrry clever.... What a good thing the dark half was far out on the water with Gareth and their guide. My fatuous grin would have given the game away immediately..........

When we got close to the entrance to one of the sea-caves we faced disappointment. The tide was too low for the canoes to get over the mudbank that protected the entrance, so we had to reluctantly go back to the cruiser. But it was all very beautiful to see.

Back on the boat we had something to drink and headed further up into the Bay. At  the next island we again got into the canoes and headed for the caves. Success... And.... Oh wow ... (No, I wasn't looking backwards......the very thought!! ;0)

The way through, under the limestone wall, was very short - you could see from outside to inside, but once inside? Gosh...... The tide was down so the mudflats inside were exposed. There were mudskippers everywhere! You know that little fish that can get out the water and looks like half-fish half-frog? Flip-flop-plip-plop everywhere. They'd see you coming, give you a sideways glare, then bubble their way down into the mud. Fascinating.

There were also blue egrets fishing for shrimp in the water, picking their way along the mud. And giant hornbills calling above. Cicadas ringing in the trees. And the hum of millions of hidden insects and creatures.

The "hong" stretched all the way into the island, not a round stretch of water but meandering its way like a self-contained sea-stream. The sides rose almost sheer up to the sky, dotted with tall trees and tangled with creepers. The water was also very shallow -- I might have been able to stand ankle-deep in it if I'd liked the idea of standing in mud that was like sticky cake icing........ El and the guide kept up a constant chatter and they fooled around doing stupid stuff like splashing each other (gave me a reason to look.....ahem...).

We came out the hong and took a right turn, going along the outside cliffs of the island. They're heavily undercut by the sea so you have a stalactite-covered limestone roof above your head as you go past rock that you can reach out and touch. Multi-coloured crabs angled their way across the rough rock and you almost felt like you could pick them off.

A light lunch was served when we got back to the boat and we headed off to the next hong known as Bat Cave. This one was long! The channel twisted its way through the rock so that you lost daylight very quickly. Dark. Dark like utter-and-total absence of light! We had a torch which El used to show Farook the way through. Above us the bats were twittering and squeaking and we'd been warned not to look up with our mouths open....... But OMG, the pong? Bat guano smells like nothing else, specially as we came out the cave and into the inside of the island. It was nasal assault! Again, inside it was amazing. No doubt. Mangroves poking out the water, birds, insects. Fish like silver darts below the surface. A sound and a feeling like nothing else I have ever seen or experienced. I wanted to get out and stay. Even now, when I think back to it I get that 'ache', if you know what I mean?

Once again, we came out the cave and back to the boat, but this time for a short cruise to a pleasant cliff-surrounded little bay where we were invited to swim. There was a tiny beach but the deep water was most inviting, so we anchored offshore. I strapped El into her life jacket and we headed to the back deck where we threw ourselves into the water. What a relief that was! I'd got very salt-sticky from sitting in a warm seawater puddle in the canoe, so the fresh seawater was welcome.

Some of the crew started doing somersaults off the railing of the upper deck, so of course the travellers had to try this too. Even Gareth did it, although his was more of a 20ft leap into space! But it turned out that our guide could not swim! How disappointed I was... I mean, El was. She kept calling him into the water! But he said no. Alas.

Someone then shouted that there was a jellyfish in the water, and this resulted in ten South Africans walking on water back to the boat... Or should I say swimming very fast? Turns out it was a brown stingless jellyfish, so we'd panicked for nothing. But we did get a freshwater shower from each of our guides! See, there was this big barrel at the back of the boat with a big dipper in it...

"Shower, madame?"
"Oh, yes, please..."
"More?"
"Yes, please......"
"And more?"
"OK...."

Never thought I'd get an improvised shower from a yummy-looking, brown-skinned, islander fella on the back of a boat in the Andaman Sea! With sunset approaching...... ;0

The last hong turned out to be the one that finally did me in. I had loved every one of the previous islands, but this one was almost beyond words. We went in through another sea-cave. Inside it was still light - a very short tunnel - but above us the limestone was dotted with crystals. It was called Diamond Cave. But going into the hong ...oh my. This one was oblong and the tide was still low, so the mangroves were standing high up above the surface, their skinny-leg roots a maze of slick brown wetness. Cicadas were singing in the trees above, birds calling invisibly, the heat and humidity licking against my skin.

The trees rose above us like antedeluvian pillars, their branches arching like green fans against the grey-blue sky. In my mind these hongs are now called God's Cathedrals. There is no other word to describe it. I am not an particularly religious person, but something touched me there, more than any medieval church or cathedral ever did.

We stayed quiet, until no one on the whole stretch of water was saying anything. All we could hear was the lap of water against the canoe's side, with the odd whine of a mosquito pricking the stillness. Then, a disturbance and gasps of wonder ahead. A seahorse. Someone found a seahorse.

Those who know, will know that seahorses mean something to me. Both creatively and ancestrally. When we got to where they had it, a guide had managed to scoop it into a plastic bag for us to have a quick look. Lonely little brown-scaled creature. Bobbing at an angle, with everyone staring. About as long as my pinkie finger, and as angular and twisted as an old root. Edgar was last to get it and he then lowered it into the water and it flicked itself away from us.

Not much else to say after that - for me anyway - and we went back through the cathedral-like hong to the diamond cave, and back out to our boat, bobbing on the sea.

Dinner was served... Oh my..... We could smell it. Getting on-board earlier we'd seen the two cooks working in the galley. Everything is freshly-prepared on the boat and it had smelled delishus! El and I - being the nosey pair that we are - had previously sneaked into the galley to have a look at what was happening. Several of the crew were real characters and one guy in particular seemed to have his mission in life as teasing and laughing about everything -- he made a big joke of us being clapped in irons if I took pics of the secret food preparations down below. But now we would find out if it tasted as good as it smelled....

On the upper deck, there was a long table. The crew brought up each dish and laid them out. Whole grilled fish, covered in spices and herbs. Bowls of shrimp and prawns, deep-fried with either batter or tempura. Stir-fried chicken. Rice. Vegetables. Enough food to feed us all and still have loads left over. We ate like royalty, and it tasted even better because we'd been doing so much in the water and the caves.

It didn't take long for us to finish off, and then there was a lull as we watched the world go by, the boat bobbing like a lazy cork on the glassy sea. The sun was going down amid a haze of soft evening clouds. Smears of orange reached long fingers across the sky. We went to stand at the top railing of the upper deck.

That's where our... my, er... El's bodyslave started mucking around with "I'm the king of the worrrrld!" a la Titanic. On the rail, leaning out, the whole damn thing... It's cheesy but when you're in that moment, it's darn funny!

But one thing I loved: Thai's really do have a highly-developed sense of fun, and at one point I wanted to fold over laughing. I mean, there you are standing at the railing, watching the sea and all the luvely scenery...next moment, some guy's grabbing your ankles from the deck below for a laugh to make you jump (and totally ignoring stoneface hubby who's nearby), while alongside him his crew-mate is on his prayer mat facing Mecca for the third time that day, and a bunch of them are playing drafts on the bow. You couldn't make that up now, could you?

The setting sun just kept up its Turner-esque display, streaking the world around us with greys and pinks, oranges and blues. As you'd look out to the horizon you'd see layer after layer of islands, like tissue-paper cut outs, receding into the distance. The heat was ever-present, and the slap of water against the hull as we cruised along was a soundtrack to what was an almost-perfect day.

Being used to rapid sunsets -- living at this latitude in SA we don't have long twilights -- I was still taken aback by how quickly night falls near the equator. It really is dark in less than half an hour. Soon we were out on the bay with only our riding lights blinking into the darkness. Vague shadows to the west told us where Phuket was, but other than that I guess the captain was just following his usual route.

Some time later we could see the lights of the 'harbour' at Ao Por coming into view. I suppose it's the pattern of how they look that tells the crew where home is? But we got there safely. Onshore there weren't many lights glowing, just a few gleams from small houses and stores on the lone main street.

We docked at one of the long wooden piers, but there was no light. We had to be escorted by crew members with torches showing us the way to land along that narrow pier.

Onshore, we found the minubuses waiting for us, for the long ride back to Patong. We said our fond farewells to our guides and crew, and found our seats. Soon our minbus was full and we left.

A jolting ride along deserted roads. Houses with single lights on the porch, glowing blue. Houses darkened. Houses with a small business going on the verandah -- scooter repair, anyone? Another a late-night barbershop. Darkened rubber plantations, blazing neon lights around a pub-and-pool-hall. Stillness and busy-ness.