45 MINUTES IN BURMA

Today was the day of our visa run to Burma, a trip somewhat into the unknown for us as it's not every day that you visit a military dictatorship and a pariah state which is one of the most cut-off in the world. We set off from Koh Tao with a certain amount of trepidation as we had read internet reports about various scams involving corrupt immigration officials and people on the Burmese side waiting to rip you off as soon as you enter the country. To be honest we were actually quite looking forward to getting a glimpse of a country that most people never get to see.

Our experience was quite different to the accounts we'd read. A pick-up truck took us from our hotel to the port, and we boarded a ferry to the town of Chumporn on the mainland. We didn't think it was possible to get to Burma and back in one day so had allowed enough time to spend the night in Ranong on the east coast of Thailand then do the visa run the next day. As it turned out, however, we managed to get it all done before nightfall, thanks to the very high speeds which the minibus driver managed to reach around the twisting turning cross country roads to Ranong. We had unwittingly chosen the expensive 5 star option which unfortunately meant that we completely bypassed the usual entry point via longtail boat for most tourists renewing their visas. Instead, we were taken to the bizarre parallel universe of a huge, deserted luxury hotel on its own remote island. The Andaman Club was a surreal sight, like the bad guy's lair in a Bond film, a posh hotel seemingly with absolutely no guests whatsoever, just lots of staff loitering everywhere. We had 45 minutes to kill while they processed our passports at immigration so we wandered around the deserted duty free shop and had a coffee in the empty bar. It was quite sad, really, but presumably it survives thanks to its massive casino, which we assume is frequented by Thais who cross the border to a country where gambling isn't illegal.. Over coffee, we chatted to two feisty Italian women also on the visa run, who were on a similar trip to us around South East Asia but in reverse, and had tales to tell us from Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos. Then we hopped back on a little bus to the waiting boat. Our brief stay in Burma was over and we had the all-important stamps in our passport.

We were soon speeding back to Chumporn again and made it in time to buy tickets for the overnight train to Bangkok. We had dinner with our new Italian friends from the visa run, and a French couple who had spent the last few months on a walking holiday on Koh Samui. This had involved walking about 20km a day, which explained their dark mahogany leathery tans. The conversation was very friendly, the only drawback being that the French didn't speak English and the Italians had no French so we acted as interpreters between the two groups which tested our rusty French skills to the max. We were amused as we left that the four of them, with our help, were planning to meet up for dinner the following evening, sans interpreters. We said our goodbyes and headed off to catch our train to the capital. As we settled into our train seats we pulled on more warm clothes than we had worn in months - even so, Emma had a sleepless night freezing to death under the icy blasts of the train's Arctic air conditioning.