Escapes from Phi Phi

And the Thai treatment for a foot injury

The Phi Phi islands, pronounced Pee Pee, are an archipelago of which only one, Koh Phi Phi Don, is inhabited. And its not just inhabited, it is really full to the brim. I appreciate that I am also a tourist here, but there is tourism and tourism. Phi Phi Don is jam-packed and trying to navigate the crowded tiny Old Town streets, where fortunately no motorised vehicles are allowed, but with thumping music blaring out everywhere to make up for it, is not my idea of fun. So the best thing to do if you find yourself here for a couple of days is to make temporary escapes, one of which is into the stepped gardens through which you meander through on your way up to Viewpoint.

You first have to navigate your way through the throngs of ‘foreigners’ (as the Thais call us), whilst also dodging the carts pushed by young Thais shouting ‘beep beep’ to those in their way, mostly to no avail until they’re virtually under the wheels. The carts are filled with an array of supplies, food, laundry, building materials (there are building sites everywhere) tourists’ luggage, and in some cases, tourists themselves. Cats of every shape and colour dart under your feet, and you have to step over dogs which won’t budge from any shady spot they find. I limped along, (more on the cause of the limp below), following the signs to ‘Viewpoint’ and ‘Elevation Escape Route.’ Gradually the overwhelming aromas of hash, urine, drains, sweat, and various other noxious substances that supposedly disguise body odour, dispersed.

Hot cat on walk up to Viewpoint with Bougainvillea glabra

There are 343 steps up to Viewpoint which takes a little effort in this tropical humid climate. But it is definitely worth the effort for the gardens at least. There are some bizarre sculptures enroute, such as giant concrete pineapples, but there is good variety of of very colourful and quirky planting.

Steps up to Viewpoint

Cerise Hibiscus schizopetalusare; a gaudy array of Bougainvillea glabra; bright orange, yellow and red Heliconias, including H. psittacorum (Parakeet flower) and H. subulate (Bird of Paradise flower) and H. Laitispatha (Expanded Lobsterclaw); line the route up. Apricot Canna lilies are flourishing and you get wafts of the gorgeous pale pink Plumeria rubra (Frangipani) which is especially stong in the evenings when they are pollinated by moths.

Heliconia psittacorum (Parakeet flower)

Multi-coloured Bromeliads, orchids and ferns are strapped to tree trunks and braids of silvery Tillandsia (Air plants) are strung from an assortment of bamboo structures.

Tillandsia sp.

Pine trees, palms and pergolas wrapped in the branches of a cashew tree (Anacardium occidentale) provide some shade as you wind your way up the twisting path. An interesting specimen is Aracaria columnaris, Cook’s Pine, which was named by the botanist Johann Reinhold whilst travelling on Cook’s second voyage of the Pacific. Recently it has been found that these trees tilt depending upon the hemisphere of their location. As this particular specimen is growing slightly North of the equator, it should be leaning North, although it looked fairly straight to me but perhaps because it was planted on a slope, that counteracted the slant?

Half way

The rockery near the summit

As you near the summit, you pass Euphorbias, Tradescantia and an assortment of cacti. At the peak itself you are provided with a panorama of how this island has been destroyed by tourism. From here you see the extent of the crazy building schemes and masses of hotels which have totally ruined the place. But an interesting view of the archipelago and whilst the summit was teeming with hungover-looking young people, they were strangely quiet.

Euphorbia milli (Crown-of-Thorns)

The reason for my limp was when I had taken another opportunity to escape the crowds of Phi Phi the previous day. I had embarked on an 7 hour long boat trip which included a snorkelling stop. I was in the sea enjoying the stunning array of stripey multi-coloured fish when I needed to clear my mask. Stupidly, I flipped to a more vertical position to do so and caught my foot on a sea urchin. I weakly climbed back onto the boat and asked for some tweezers to try and remove the 15 or so sharp purple needles sticking out of my heel, which was suddenly stinging like mad. One of the boat men insisted, however, that I should not remove the spines as that would cause infection and he had no tweezers anyway. He reassured me that this happens frequently and they know what to do. Slightly sceptical, I watched as he dug into the ice-bucket for the coldest bottle of water; I assumed he was going to either pour the clean, cold water over my stinging foot, or perhaps press it gently against my heel to ease the pain, or even just give me a cold drink. But instead, much to the horror of both the other passengers on board, and to me, he proceeded to whack my foot really hard with it. I don’t speak any Thai and his English was limited, but he indicated how this would break up the spines and stop the poison penetrating more deeply. He then sprayed vinegar on it which, he explained, would quickly dissolve them. He was very optimistic about it all.

Sea Urchin

At the next boat stop as I was hopping about on an uninhabited beach, the guy’s brother, who had earlier taken a dive down to the depths and emerged with an example of the culprit to show me, said that my foot needed more treatment. I saw with some alarm that he was holding what appeared to be a large rock. This turned out to be a big piece of coral into the pits of which he splashed some vinegar before bashing my foot with far more force than his brother had done. I was almost sick with the pain. However, I managed to hobble along the raised, wooden walkway through the dark forest to see some of the unusual and protected trees and shrubs on this serene island.

Phi Phi Leh Forest

There was Atlanta monophyla the Ghost Lime, Terminalia catappa (Sea Almond), Pandanus odoratissimus (Screw Pine), Ficus annulata, with its deep red, slender trunk, Alocasia macrorhizos (Giant Taro), which are grown in pots locally, and sometimes the giant leaves can be cut off for impromptu umbrellas.

Alocasia macrorhizos (Giant Taro) used as umbrellas

The scarlet flowers of the tree Sterculia foetida caught my eye. It has more than its fair share of common names; Indian Almond, Bastard poon tree, Skunk tree, and Java Olive to name but a few. Thank God for Linneaus’ classification of plants. I read that Sterculia comes from Sterquilinus, the Roman god of manure. The flowers do smell bad, thus Skunk Tree. Foetida also means stinking and is quite a common specific name, including Passiflora foetida, whose stems smell fetid when crushed, and Anagyris foetida, the leaves which stink when rubbed. To me Sterculia suggests sterility and indeed this plant is dioecious, the male and female flowers are found on different trees (thus ‘Bastard poon tree’ which is rather insulting!). I learned that the seeds are poisonous when raw, but can be eaten after roasting, that the tree oil is used for biofuels but that the sterculic acid that is derived from this tree is carcinogenic.

Stinking flowers of the peculiar Sterculia

After spending time trying to identify various plants, I suddenly emerged the other side of the forest on to what must be one of the most perfect beaches in the world. Edged by towering limestone cliffs, the sand on Maya beach is virtually pure white and the sea a dazzling turquoise. It is probably so pristine because no swimming or lingering is allowed. But you can paddle through the surf and see the little white fish darting to and fro in the gently lapping waves. This certainly took my mind off my foot.

Maya Bay

Although that wasn’t the last of the Thai foot treatment. When I got back to the hostel and explained to the lovely manager what had happened, she assured me that the boatmen know best. She got a beer bottle out of the fridge and subjected my heel to yet another bashing. She then said that I need a man to pee on it. As I didn’t have a man available, and none of the few men hanging about the hostel offered, I had to try and pee on it myself. And the torture didn’t end there. When she produced a large bowl of absolutely scalding water and instructed me to sit with my foot in it for an hour, I thought this was absolutely the final straw; perhaps I have a low pain threshold, but I added some cold water and then sat with both feet in comparative comfort instead.

Two weeks later and I am still limping around and the spines have not dissolved. I subsequently dropped into a pharmacist to see whether they could offer advice, but he was not particularly interested; perhaps showing him my sole was not very tactful; I had temporarily forgotten that it is an extremely offensive gesture here. Anyway, he shooed me across the road to the massage parlour where the women were quite happy to examine it, and seemed to take some delight in discussing potential remedies, before kindly sending me off with a large needle and a small lime. The spines by then, however, were far too embedded in my foot to dig out. I have bought swimming shoes and taken tweezers on all subsequent snorkelling trips, which I would highly recommend.

Being woken up at 3.00 am by drunken arguments outside my front door is what I expect in Hulme not Thailand so I bailed out of Phi Phi early. At least I hope the local community are doing well out of all this. They have suffered the tragic loss of many lives, businesses and homes which were destroyed in the 2004 Tsunami and then again during covid. Fortunately for me there are plenty of unspoiled islands in Thailand to enjoy, but it was definitely worth a visit for that beach.