As there is no transport to Thailand in the evening I check into a hostel this Monday and decide to look around. The local cultural centre hosts free (Malay) muay-thai boxing matches in the evening. Sounds great! The building is dark, all the lights are out, the doors are barred. Not so great! And there, on a small sign to the right it reads "closed during the month of Ramadan". Great! The first of many encounters with Muslim culture...

Kota Bharu is the capital of Kelantan province in Malaysia, the most devout Islam state of all. So everybody (happily) enjoys the blessings of the holy month. What this meant for me, I quickly found out the next day. Breakfast? Forget it. Every, and I mean every stall, bakery, fast-food restaurant is closed. Every single one. In my deepest desperation I made my way to the 24h McDonalds; even that was closed during the day. And as I failed to get up before sunrise to enjoy a most satisfying breakfast, it meant no food for me all day. At least KFC's opened around 15:00 o'clock and I promptly devoured a whole bucket of chicken-wings. I know; I'm sorry. I've gotten a bit used to everything being closed between 18:00-20:00 but at least on the Perhentians you could eat all day. This is just horrible.

There is nothing to do in Kota Bharu. I stroll around town, venture inside some big shopping malls, find some fruit in the afternoon; look at the downtrodden, lethargic Malays. Nobody has any energy, everything moves slower than normal. Although, some, if they think nobody is looking, do take a few bites from a sandwich, chicken leg, or snack. Sneaky b******s! I should have them whipped! ;)

The next morning I wake up early to take the local bus to the Thai - Malaysian border, and from there make my way up north. Of course it's raining. Why wouldn't it? And I don't have an umbrella. I buy one at the local 7-eleven, hopefully my last for this trip. The bus is full of people, and about an hour and a half later we arrive and the border. OMG! One would think this small crossing in the deep-south of Thailand would be completely deserted, but to the contrary! It's like the Austrian - Hungarian border when there still was one. Long lines of cars, motorbikes, and a separate, long, snaking, queue for pedestrians. Later on in the day I read up on this crossing in the Lonely Planet. All the Malays use this crossing to go over to Thailand. For karaoke... and hookers. Well, well, well, devout Muslims my ass! You sneaky, horny, b******s!

Well, anyways; a good hour, four stamps and several hundred metres later I am in Thailand once again. On a fifteen day visa which is just enough to catch my plane from Bangkok. I walk - luckily it stopped raining - into the centre of town, fighting off offers for taxis in search for the train station. The big plan is to take the train up to Hat Yai, and from there, as there is no railway connection, use a bus to Krabi. As I stroll along the streets pulling my suitcase I notice an unusually large amount of armed Thai military personnel. The train station even has a military checkpoint, inside the building itself are a dozen more men with big guns. Hmm... interesting. I walk up to the ticket booth to buy a ticket, the official inside looks up and immediately suggests to take the minivan because it is faster. "But I want the train" I tell him, as it is much more comfortable, but he won't budge, and keeps repeating the same thing over and over again. Well, if he is so adamant about it he might actually have a point and I walk back towards the minivans. Buy a ticket to one (180 baht for a four-hour trip) and fifteen minutes later we're already on our way.

Just outside of town, there is a roadblock and a military checkpoint. Ok... we swirl around it, continue our way. A few kilometres later, another. And another. With fully armed military peering from behind camouflaged sandbags, complete with barbed wire. Ok. I lose count after the first dozen orso of these checkpoints. But most interesting...

As we pass one after the other something really vague starts to dawn on me. I remember checking the foreign office advisory website for Thailand back in May, and there was something about the deep-south. And avoiding it if possible. Eh... I get out Lonely Planet again to read up, and then suddenly I remember! The deep-south of Thailand is mostly Muslim and separatist forces have been fighting the past five or six years for independence. Random targets, killing indiscriminately, setting off bombs. Not specifically targeting tourists, but if he/she happens to be in a minibus or train that is targeted, bad luck. There is still no traffic at night in this area, and "...trains should be avoided unless absolutely necessary". Ah so, that's why I've been given the most pressing advice to take the bus. He just didn't want to scare me.

Luckily nothing happened except for the swirling around roadblocks and four hours later I safely arrive in Hat Yai. I book the minibus to Krabi and less than an hour later we're on our way. Somewhere around eight in the evening we arrive. I left at eight in the morning from Kota Bharu. Thirteen hours! For how much? 400-500 kilometres maximum. Why does travelling always go so slowly?

The suitcase. It's falling apart. The trolley bar is regularly coming out of its shaft if it encounters the least amount of resistance, the handlebars' screws have come half-way off, the zippers on the inside don't work anymore and several plastic pieces at the bottom have broken off. Haven't I already said this in Bangkok before? Never, never, never again buy fake stuff! Why do I keep making the same mistakes? God, I just hope it'll last the final four weeks...