Back in Korat after two nights a Khao Yai National Park, my leg up on a chair, the heal on ice, hoping to walk normally again soon. [I wrote this last night. Today the foot isn't 100%, but it's much, much better.) But it was worth it. Getting info on the park was sketchy. The official tourist office in Korat gave us the name of a small ‘resort’ outside the park for B600 (@$17) air conditioned with breakfast. Tours can be arranged. We took the bus from Korat to Pak Chong (normally an hour on the ‘tour’ bus, but someone signed us up for a cheaper bus before we realized it. The air conditioning was weak – and it is in the high 90s in Korat – and this was clearly and older bus. And we stopped anywhere there might be a potential passenger. But 90 minutes later we were told it was time to get off the bus. On a commercial street in Pak Chong with our suitcase and backpack. But people were right there to help us out. A Song Thaew (truck with two benches in the back) with Khao Yai in English on the front was there right away and we climbed in. There was another farang couple in there already. Was this father and daughter? Was he younger than he looked and she older? It sounded like they were speaking German. I finally asked if they’d been to Khao Yai before and she said ‘no.’ The ‘resort’ was supposed to be a mile 19.5, but there were no mile markers. Well, there were, but they were just white, no numbers.
I asked Joan if we should just go on to the park and see about places in there. We knew they had them, but not much about them. We could always go back to the resort. She agreed. So eventually the German father and daughter – they’d lived in Krabi in the south and she spoke Thai – and Joan and I got out at the park entrance and the Song Thaew turned around and went back. B400 each for foreigners entry fee. If you stay outside the park, you pay each day. If you stay in the park, good for a week or two. OK, now, how do we get into the park? Taxi is B400 (@$13). We didn’t see any taxis. Or, she said, you can hitchhike. We four looked at each other. There didn’t seem to be much traffic either. Joan and I started walking. It was 14 km’s and we could use a little walk and someone would surely pick us up. Within five minutes two cars had passed us. One had stopped to pick up the Germans and another stopped to pick us up. Our driver turned out to be a test driver, driving an Opel, which he would be driving for about 5000km around Thailand.
We climbed about 1000 meters and he dropped us off at the visitors' center. Nothing was completely clear. We could have a room with a bathroom, no fan, no air, for B800. It was four kilometers away. No food there, come back here to eat or get take out – Thai version, which would be to put some fried rice or whatever we ordered in a plastic bag. We can get a guide for Wednesday for a hike and then drive to a view point and then if there is still time to an animal viewing stand. And he would take us back to Pak Chong on Thursday. B1500 each. That was the same price the travel agent in Korat had quoted so I said fine. The driver would take us to the room in a couple of hours. Meanwhile we could take a short walk on the nature trail. So we wandered around and ran into the Germans who said they were staying about 800 meters away and there were plenty of empty rooms there. So we went back and checked. Then to the building next door that was the accommodation place and first they said there wasn’t any place. Then they said the place we were staying was being renovated and we couldn’t stay there. Then said we should go check the place before paying for it. Where else can we stay if we don’t like it? No where. So why not just take it? (There were also tents available.) Apparently enough people change their minds so we went up to look at it, with our luggage, and said it was fine. And got a ride back to pay. It was a row of about 20 rooms, just room for two beds and a small table, and a bathroom. Very clean and neat. The bathroom nicely tiled, flush toilet. All well screened and windows on both sides for good cross ventilation. We could walk back after we ate. What about the monkeys on the side of the road? Oh, it’s ok if you aren’t carrying anything. (And Joan already has had two rabies shots, so no problem.) The pavilion with the food was nice, though the food was very basic Thai curries that are sitting out for a while or noodles. But aside for the room which was pricey by Thai standards for what we got, the prices in the park were more than reasonable. Two fried rice plates came to B50 – less than $2, and less than in most places in Korat. I saw candles in the little store where I bought water – also cheap – and bought them. Joan guessed the two candles and box of matches was B35 ($1). They were B6 altogether. As we walked back to the room, we found Joan a walking stick (and potential monkey protection stick) on the side of the road. But all we saw were neat birds, a couple deer, and a few other tourists walking or biking. There was also a large building for groups and a school group nearby.
Before the sun went down, I walked around and found a little stream behind the rooms, surrounded by thick jungle, frogs beginning to croak. Also saw a monkey on the shore a ways down. We brought Joan’s audio recorder to Thailand but hadn’t used it. She showed me how to use it and I took it back down to the stream and caught five minutes of evening sounds..
Taping evening sounds (hope it looks better on your computer than it does on this one)
As it was getting dark, we lit a candle and listened to frogs and insects and some birds. I took a shower – no hot water, but it felt good after a hot sticky day. And now the temperature had dropped (we were about 3000 feet up) and with a breeze coming into the room, it was delightful. The sign at the visitor center said the temperatures ranged from 29C high to 20C low. So that would have it dipping into the 60s, a delightful change, similar to Umphang early morning. Lights were out about 7:30pm.
Today we biked to see the grave of Henri Mouhot, the man who found Angkor Wat buried in the jungle. He died up the road from here of malaria at 35. It was really just a destination for us that seemed like a reasonable bike ride. We couldn't find the sign. We finally stopped at a little shop - a shack really - and asked. It turned out we could walk to it in 15 minutes from there. A young man led us to it. When I got back we met the headmaster of the school and visited a few classrooms and one of the men took me into the village to see his house. I have lots of pictures to print and send them. 
