The John Gray Experience

Canoeing through the calm lagoons of the islands surrounding Phuket, you have a slim chance of coming across a bearded face with dark beady eyes wandering through the caverns, taming the waters and bringing serenity to the green, crystalline waters in the shadow of the cliffs. Bopping about steadily on his canoe is John Gray, the founder of a legacy and living fairytale that lies at the dawn of creation for tourism in Phuket. John is the proud owner of the John Gray company who’s tour I am on today. A tour consisting of 40 odd adventurous souls on a boat for the day, living the same experience once lived by John 35 years ago.

At noon, we are loaded on a two story vessel accompanied by a large crew of cooks, sailors and staff. We are introduced to our guide, an over enthusiastic local who shares his reign with his sidekick whom he calls Morgan Freeman according to his frightening resemblance to the actor. While Morgan dives into character and puts on the appropriate accent, we are offered lunch. Inviting us are a wide selection of fruits and vegetables with noodles and spring rolls who lay waiting on a wide table. Immediately, a series of obese looking children escape the mighty grasp of their parent’s tentacle arms and dive nose down into the buffet in the fear of losing their prey to the hoards awaiting behind them. Nevertheless I arrive last and find almost half of the buffet intact and untouched with plenty still left to feed even the hungriest peasants within us.

After voyaging on the boat for about an hour Morgan decides to split my family and I between two canoes, one for my parents and one for me to share with Michelle, an history teacher from Australia who’s more than happy to make new friends in the boat environment. Canoeing through the caves and lagoons I immediately absorb the beauty of the serene landscape irregardless of the mass exodus of tourists hoping to do the same. The islands make me forget everything. I forget my about my problems, my fears, emotions and even forget to notice the other boats around me. But in all this haze and blur, from behind a cliff emerges a figure who seems not to escape my sight, who I know was prowling in the shadows from the start, who had transcended upon the waters from behind the mist. John Gray is drifting along, trailing his long scruffy beard and wearing a Christmas hat. Giving in to the slightest smile, John passes, leaving behind him a trail of pure glory.

Night falls and I find myself in a cave with Michelle and the other canoeists. Simmering on the surface lights flicker. The souls of plankton who’s light feeds on the slow motion of our hands through the water. Above us, bats hang upside down, facing downwards, shrieking collectively at the visitors in their cave. Nature breathes through the cave, shedding its skin through its walls, hanging over us leaving us with no choice but to fall to its feet. And so we do. We prepare our offerings which consist of a floating banana tree trunk decorated with candles and orchids. As we release our floats we pray through a wish. All wishing secretly that when our candles fall out, our souls live on through the echos of the cave.