The start of the excursion was again set early the next morning, when the minivan of the organizing company came to pick us up from the complex and take us to the port, where together with our friends we were about to board a large vessel, which we took to the final destination. There was a bit of excitement, which wasn't too worrisome, but our friends' child (a 4 year old boy) didn't take it very well and brought a bit of commotion among the company. Eventually, after transferring to smaller motorboats, we reached the first location. We were about to climb a rock massif with no clearly defined trail, and the goal was a few Viewpoints from which to enjoy the beautiful view. Great, but no one had warned us about the extreme climb, and we were all wearing ...flip flops. To bring further clarification about the climbing route, which wasn't short at all, the lack of a designated trail meant climbing from boulder to boulder, plus we had to hold on to an aid rope the whole time. I'm by no means saying it was impossible to climb, but it certainly needed serious attention as most of the boulders were sharp and irregularly shaped. Add in my 110 pounds packed into a 192cm body and it meant a sign of tremendous caution for me. But then again, there was no way I was going to put myself out there, I bravely rushed my way to the top. My wife, about 6'3" and 60 pounds, was a few feet ahead of me, casting a glance at where I was. I confess I was sweating profusely after only a few meters, and my t-shirt was like I had just stepped out of the bathroom. Unfortunately, the weight was unforgiving. Somehow, I felt proud that Viewpoint #1 had been reached, but there were still two more heights to go. I was halfway to the second terrace when the wife had already lost sight of me and reached Viewpoint Number 2 and we were communicating, but only by hearing our voices. Just at that moment the rope failed to hold me, I spun on my axis, one of my flip flops broke and flew off in an unclear direction but falling close to me. I flew down briefly and managed to step with one foot fairly steady, the other stuck in a sharp rock. Luckily for me, I managed to land and sat on a boulder that didn't split in two and its shape was such that the damage wasn't great. While this semi-acrobatic performance of mine was going on, I apparently let out a shout that reached my better half and she came down immediately to see what state I was in. Good thing there were other Europeans around me who immediately offered help. The result was - a torn flip flop that I couldn't continue the journey back with, and 2 bleeding toes from the impact with the sharp stone. "Good thing I didn't hit a sharp rock while sitting down!". These were my first words and somehow the prophecy of the grandmother from Bangkok, which predicted that I would never return to Sofia again, gently surfaced in my mind. However, when everything in this incident ended with minimal damage, I still decided not to pay that much attention to it. However, I needed shoes or other flip flops so I could get back down there and not risk getting beat up again. At this point, luck reminded me again that it is my trusted friend. A young couple from Denmark was passing by us, and the boy, seeing my bloodied toes and torn flip-flop, offered his spare ones that he had taken just in case. "Unbelievable," I said to myself. What were the chances in rock climbing that anyone had spare flip-flops? Not very high. But, when fortune helps you, you grab handfuls. I thanked the guy and we agreed I'd give them back to him when we got to the bottom, and then I somehow had to hold on to my second flip flop so I wasn't completely barefoot. This is the time to share that I decided not to throw this pair of mine away because they could have been stitched up. And now you're probably asking, "Why were they so important to me?" You'll probably remember that these are the same ones I bought from the Jungseylon Mall in Phuket. Not only did they have emotional value, but they carried a nice message and most of all were a quality brand that could be repaired. It will hardly surprise you to know that after getting stitched up in Sofia, I wore these flip-flops to the seaside and to the time of writing this story. Funny, isn't it? But let me take the story further. Once we got down there, I was able to find some alcohol to wash my toe wounds and from there we got back on the speedboat. It took us to another beach where there was a cove and the sea was calmer and there we were to test our canoeing abilities in pairs. The challenge sounded great, but the organization was staggering. At a time like this it was imperative to have a boat guide and one following us all to oversee the process as it wasn't exactly safe, especially for those like us who couldn't swim. It sounds a shame, but at least we admitted it. They put us in safety vests, all our papers were stowed in dive bags that stayed with us on the canoes. Off we went, but with the detail that we were last and there was no one behind us. The route was across the sea, then we had to go through a rock lagoon, ending up on another beach where we would see Lake Erawan. Everyone had gone through the section with the lagoon, where couples had to lean back to be able to cross successfully and not hit their body and head on the protruding extremely sharp diamonds of the cave in this part of the route. It was our turn to push our canoe out of there, and we could see absolutely no one around us. Manoeuvring the canoe, at one point we failed to tilt our bodies nicely and the boat flipped into the water, and the dive bags went flying out with the flip flops. We were in a cave and in a 10 by 5 meter hole, alone. Instinctively, at the moment of the capsize, I managed to grab one of the propellers to keep my distance from the rock so we wouldn't hit it, because as I mentioned, the sharp diamonds were sticking out next to each other and were super dangerous. We were visibly scared because we couldn't see anyone, and even though we had our life jackets on, it was the first time we had been in contact with the sea and the lack of bottom in a situation like this added to our anxiety. We both grabbed onto an upturned boat, the propeller between my legs. The bad thing was that despite the bay, there was a swell that was pushing the canoe further and further back and we risked hitting the rock, and backwards. We started shouting for help. Luck apparently covered us again because one of our friendly Bulgarian couples had heard our cries and headed over to help us. Hearing that help was coming, we supposedly calmed down a bit, but right at that moment I dropped the propeller, hence the boat. Our friends were already approaching (they were excellent swimmers). By the time they were quite close to us, a new wave passed and to keep us both from splitting our heads on the rocks, I managed to keep my wife in front of me while I made some distance with my arm. The result was clear - the flesh of two of my fingers was ripped off because of the sharp diamonds they were stuck in. We had no other chance, because the next wave could have been a nightmare. The blood spilling out scared me further as it started to stain the water, and we didn't know what the marine fauna was like around us. Literally at the last minute our friends showed up, and with them quickly came a Thai from the group organizers. Together they helped us move 5-6 meters further out to sea, where they knew there was a small section in the rocks we could temporarily step on. Surprisingly for us, the Thai man, instead of picking us up and taking us to the beach in his canoe, put us in another one that he said was "more reliable" and had us steer it again and finish everything ourselves. It's not believable, but it kind of made us feel better. Reaching the beach I was taken to a special medical station to get first aid, flushing both my toes and my hand and bandaging both. We were especially grateful to our friends, who it is no exaggeration to admit probably saved us from very serious damage and God forbid from something even scarier. This was the second moment where I briefly saw a connection to the Bangkok grandmother's prediction, but again I decided not to pay quite so serious attention, after all we were alive and well. All the arrangements for the trip continued with a long flight of stairs to take us up to View Point to Lake Erawan. It was a little hard to tread barefoot, but that's why we went, to see the maximum. There was a very funny moment here. All the way up I could hear what seemed like real machine gun fire and super loud clattering. Good thing I didn't ask what that was at the start, because I wouldn't have continued the climb. Eventually my friends told me through laughter that it was rattlesnakes. Well, it's a good thing they didn't thunder even more seriously either. As I write, I remembered that on our way to this seaside park, at the harbor, we were snapped as a souvenir, and this photo of us still sits in the living room of the apartment we live in Sofia, along with another photo, which will be discussed later. After this peculiar action, we got back to the hotel late in the evening and decided to chill out on the dark terrace with a Hong Tong cocktail and a coke. Lest you say the fun part was over for the day, it was going to be a new dose of fear and laughter at the same time. We sat on the terrace and put our feet up high on the ledge, not knowing what was passing down there. We were just saying cheers, and something fell and crashed onto the roof of the house that was a few feet in front of us, with trees between our houses. "End! That's a snake now," I said, and through laughter we went back inside the house, barring the door to uninvited guests. Inside, the nightly flashlight check followed. A moment of reassurance and an attempt at sleep came though. No matter what we said, we did not have a restful night. Every little noise, even if it was in our sleep, riveted our attention and it made the nights a real nightmare. Good thing that after every night came a day that threw us again and again into the heavenly dimensions of this magical place.