A Travellerspoint blog

Adventures on the Fuschia Phantom

Godly Mr. Donut and his holey confectionary

I'm driving down the road on me motie, wind in the hair, fake ray ban av's shining, fisherman pants flying, singing 'It happened in Monterery' as loud as i can with my girl on the back (ok so its not a motie its a scooter and she's not my girl yet but give it time). I have rented a distinctly fushcia coloured scooter from down at the beach and its the best thing ever. There was a lengthy discussion concerning the colour of said moped but i tink we all agreed that it was NOT pink eventually.

Anyway I did a test drive to school and the roads are really quiet. Robbie T rented himself a snazzy lime green vehicle and we make a pretty mean gang cruising the streets on those bad boys. We shuttle everyone to dinner just because we can and hit up a nice red curry. I have finally convinced Alice to ride the scooter to school when another girl, Katherine, has an ill-fated attempt to ride rob's beast of a lime moped. Unfortunately it bucked her off and she came off a little worse for wear. At least we got to play Wambulance and spin more stories about how many lives we have saved on Manly beach haaaaa.

I needed to get some cash out so we decided to scooter to the only ATM in the area. It's a pretty wicked night ride just cruising the open roads real slow and the moon lights everything up silver. We cross a bridge and the little town is completely deserted. It looks a lot like an old strip from a western and i'm half expecting a Thai bandit to jump out of a creaky bar door with a six shooter but it stays quiet. I load my saddle bags with gold, whoopee and ride out of town firing my shooter in the air as the green light of the atm casts and etheral glow over the dark town.

The next day we drove to school and the kids thought it was hilarious. Our teaching keeps improving and i'm really enjoying it. We spend the rest of the day 'planning lessons' in the hammock. It's sadly Ruth and Rachaels last night and the plan is to head into Chumphon town for some dinner and a little boogie-sesh. Good old pyramids gets the Sangsom rum flowing and its cab time before we knot it. We eat at a nie little Thai place with live music and devour a couple more bottles of rum. Its about time to dance or go to sleep so we head to the only club in town which is called 'PAPA 2000' (best name ever?). Its interesting to see how the cool kids in Chumphon kick it but its not really my scene. We head back to the house and decide that an UNO slumber party is in order. We fill a room with mattresses and play about two hands of UNO before we all pass out. Me and old mate decide to have our own slumber party and retire elsewhere. Happy days.

The next night we sadly say goodbye to R&R and prepare for a new load of volunteers. To battle our blues we plan some retail therapy and in the morning head to the mall in Chumphon. We found an arcade and me and rob spent a good amount of time killing terrorists and zombies to the amusement of a growing crowd of Thai kids. Alice and Katherine spent most of their money and time button bashing on street fighter, only to reailse later that they had been watching a demo the whole time. Having been technologically sated we turned to feeding the sugar monster.

I had a craving for a plain old donut so we went on a quest. We walked those wild Thai streets in contained hope until, joy of joys, we stumbled upon the fabled Mr. Donut, who bestowed upon us weary travellers all manner of holey confectionary. Mr Donut is like Krispy Kreme but each donut costs about 50 cents. After laughing at descriptive donut names like 'holething' me and rob proceeded to sample every donut that old Mr.D had. Robbie, the chocolate 'pon de ring' is still the pinnacle of the noble art of doughnuttery.

On the way back we bought an 'extreme sailboat surfer' which is a little dude on a windsurfer with a little battery powered engine. We later borrowed someones good duracell batteries (hard to come by where we were staying) and let Trav, as we had named him, loose in the ocean. We watched him go out to sea, hopeful that one day he would return, or maybe wash up in another country. Once he was out of sight we realised that they were not our batteries. Oh dear. No torch for Kat.

The afternoon of the mutinous sailboat surfer we went to a monkey temple. I was intially dissapointed that it wasn't like the one in the jungle book with king Louie but got over it once we got to feed the rabid little fellas. The monkeys are amazingly dextrous. I had a whole bunch of food in one hand and when i turned the other way one of the cheeky bastards took the whole bunch right out of my hand. King Louie doesn't snatch..

The night after Hanuman mugged me (Hanuman is the Thai monkey god) the new volunteers arrived. A real character called Liz had got back from a visa run to Burma involving near death boat rides in storms and all sorts of ridiculousness that Burma is sadly famous for and we were in the middle of a raucous game of pyramids. I had taught everyone a little too well and we were all playing like scoundresls, cheating any chance we got. I decided to sit out after a big bluff at the top of the pyramid failed (which is really unlucky because i NEVER bluff in pyramids right? (anyone remember 48 at sunset?)). The poor new volunteers walked in, bone tired, ready to sleep just as we were bouncing of the walls. We got everyone down to the bar and had a good old time. At one point early in the night Rob tried to go home. I asked two of the new girls to convince him to stay. I was back to 'planning lessons' in the hammock when, about 20 minutes later, Rob ran past me, shirtless, yelling 'Let's go swimming!!!' followed by at least 4 or 5 girls. So much for that early bedtime bobby.

Posted by codywant 22:02 Archived in Thailand Comments (0)

Back to School

Learning to teach

Im sitting in the office of our school and i don't know any Thai except, Hi, Beer, Toilet, Bye and i think the teachers around us know even less english. We have been offered strange breadlike creations with a substance in the middle that looks not dissimilar to fungus and tastes even less appealing. Being the polite chap i am i try to finish mine but am defeated by the hairy texture and feed the last of it to one of the many rabid looking dogs milling around the legs of my chair. Eventually they rustle up the best English speaker in the school and she explains our timetable to us. 4 hour long classes 4 times a week with an hour for lunch. We will be teaching from year 1 to year 6. Today is only an introduction to the school so we have a quick tour and head back to the car. The school consists of a large playing field, playground, open air cafeteria and a long 2 storey building of about 10 classrooms. All up there are like 70 students and i dont see a whole lot of teachers around.

We head back to our abode at 'Mali Blues Guesthouse'. Did i mention that i'm teaching with Alice? Anyway im pretty keen to have a good first lesson so we sit down and i plan my very first lesson as a 'teacher'. hahahah i would love to see the faces of some of my old school teachers if they knew i was teaching 'what? call the authorities!! how could this happen?' Mrs Esperaga would just kneel and pray for the children 'think of the children!!!'. Hah i reckon its a pretty good lesson, we are teaching bodyparts and have little contingencies for smarter or slower children. Satisfied we are armed for tommorow we head down to the beach for dinner.

Eating in Chumphon is excellent. Imagine the best Thai dishes you have ever tasted, then imagine they cost betwn $2-$5 and that you are eating them on the beach listening to excellent tunes. Maybe throw in a sly little beverage or two and a hammock for digestion. Gastronomical delight. i went to bed ecited about the next day of teaching.

I crouch in fear behind a table. A soccer ball flies overhead and crashes into the whiteboard with a terrible rattle. 2 small Thai boys exchange solid Muay Thai blows to each others vitals and another child hangs, swinging from the protective bars over the windowsill. It is absolute chaos. Keen to distinguish himself the young soldier joins the battle. I roll from my shelter and pounce on the soccer ball, ducking just in time to avoid a second ball. I start to dribble it like a basketball, side to side, through the legs, over the shoulder, a veritable white tornado weaving through the tables and chairs and the monstrous children rise to the challenge, diving from all positions to stop my glorious run to the hoop. But look out folks, it looks, like, he might go, all, the, wayyyy, he jumps for the shot and the buzzer sounds. I collapse on the floor, never being happier to have heard the bell signalling the end of the class. The children stream out into the light as i lay, a sweaty, inanimate mass, breathing heavily, catching as much rest as i can before the next class enters.

The day that follows involves about 30 to 40 minutes of 'teaching' until the children reach the end of their attention span and snap, degrading into raging animals, at which stage we play semi controlled games until the lsson ends. One boy tried to tackle me, tripped and grabbed my pants, promptly dacking me. At least i wore undies today. By the end of the day we were shattered and out of ideas. The last class was starting to go mental so we sat them down and knocked them unconscious with a special pressure point a thai monk had taught me only the other day at the bar. No that didn't happen but it could have right? I didnt feel like showing off my special monk endowed ninja skills so instead we got them to make and decorate paper aeroplanes. We started throwing them around the class and word got out to the rest of the school. Kids from all classes came in and joined the aeronautical chaos and soon enough just bout the whole damn school was throwing paper aeroplanes EVERYWHERE. There were planes in fans, windows, trees, on the lawn, in the pond, on the roof and even on the poor buddha statue. No school authority came out to stop the madness. Our lesson was over and we packed our bags and ran to the car, ducking paper missiles, collapsing inside with a sigh.

The first day of teaching was hectic, tiring and absolutley chaotic but it was also seriously fun. Me and Alice made a good team and it felt pretty natural teaching. The next day we had an even better plan, teaching animals and transport and we dominated the first couple of classes. I made the error of drawing a robot for one boy. The next day at lunch i had to draw about 15 different robots to be left in peace. It might sound easy to draw a robot but after about 5 you kinda run out of ideas so i started attaching giant cannons and swords to them which was probably not entirely appropraite but was a step up from the mercenary with an AK i had drawn the day before. I also made the error of playing soccer with the boys. I was actually playing well but it was so hot, i thought i was going to die. I kept crumbling to the ground in distress and the children would run past singing, hot! hot! hot! and wiping their foreheads in imitation of me.

Over the next few days we really started to get the hang of teaching and we did a pretty good job. It was a lot of fun. At times i couldnt believe i was getting paid for it but then remembered that i was not getting paid for it so i could believe it. Our school is small and rowdy but we like it. We spoke to the other volunteers and their schools sounded really strict and organised compared to our ruffian school. Really though i reckon ours was a badass school. A typical entry into the school would go like this: Drive through the school gates. The driveway is almost completely blocked by building equipment and piles of supplies from the construction site next to the playground. The builders hang from the second storey of the construction like monkeys, no harness. Small children are playing below in the swings. There is usually about a whole class worth of kids playing soccer unattended on the playing field, which also has a shady looking billboard being constructed above where the kids run. Packs of dogs, looking dead or dying roam around like zombies ocassionaly fighting among themselves when they have the energy as the younger children mingle with them. An odd feature in this landscape is the random fire, which i saw a lot of in Thailand, just a small contained fire burning for no apparant reason. On this occassion a tree stump was smoking away as a class of nursery children played around it, unattended. The only form of authority in this scene is the golden statue of buddha that watches over the school with a cheeky grin. Its a hilarious sight.

I only saw four teachers while at the school. 1 teacher was really nice and she always seemed to teach outside in the cafeteria. One guy i never saw outside his classroom, which was always empty, and he would be sitting in his chair, he was definately on the juice or the herb, he was a corpselike chappy. The other guy at the school always wore a military outfit and carried a cane and the last woman, the english speaker, would tell us she had errands to run and drive into town everyday, returning with shopping bags or a friend, and one time even her boyfriend. If she wasnt running errands she was on the phone or sleeping and one time we went to ask her something and she was asleep on a bed she had made by pushing the nursery kids beds together as the children danced and fought around her, faces white with talcom powder they had got hold of. Its certainly an interesting place but its a lot of fun and everyone there is a character. Who said education was boring?

Posted by codywant 01:29 Archived in Thailand Comments (0)

The House on the Hill

Old sage pete and the dismembered squirrel

Hin Wong Bay sounds like the scene of an important battle but it is actually a really nice place. Koh Tao is known for its excellent diving and snorkeling and this was evident as soon as we went swimming. We had rented a family room, which is basically just 2 double beds, 2 mosquito nets and 2 of the saddest fans in the world. All this for 100Baht each, which is about the price of a beer. After killing a few resident spiders we locked the room and went down to the water. Me and Rob were hoping the storm was making swell but sadly it was very peaceful. The bay was beautiful, surrounded by those very Thai rock formations lazing and lounging around in all shapes, fringed by coconut trees. There was a wharf of questionable integrity that led out to a diving point (there was no sand). As usual Rob managed to cut himself but it wasn't that bad. We set a course for a rock formation about 100 metres out and started swimming. I hadn't swum this far in a while. Eventually we made it, scaled the oyster riddled rocks and sat down. Unfortunately we then realised it was a fairly pointless expedition to have undertaken and sate getting our breath back, slowly losing blood to numerous oyster induced woundings.

By this time those lovely slow pale friends of ours had roused themselves and come down to the water. Roberto and myself decided to go oldschool and swam out from behind a boat with our swimmers on our heads, collaroy style. Oh some of our well bred colonial friends were truly shocked, having never been skinny dipping themselves (bar ruth who was already drying off on the dock but was back in the water in a flash when she heard skinny dippping was going on). Our tactful coaxing remedied this, the only loser being the diver waiting on the dock who had to witness me and rob repeatedly doing periscopes and diving whales.

After our pleasant swim it was about time for a feed and a tall chang or two. I had a green curry that was otherwordly tasty. Our meal was rudely interrupted by a feral cat who strolled up and dumped a dismembered squirrels tail next to us. The waitress squeeled and would ran off and would not return until the grisly entree was removed from the immediate area. Charming. now Hin Wong Bay is a real quiet little diving establishment and pretty much consists of the dock and a few bungalows and a whole lot of insects. The restaurant closed at 8 but ever watchful i had noticed, on the drive in, a small house at the top of the hill with a small sign that said 'Pete's Bar'.

Keen to celebrate our survival from our previous nautical adventures we were not ready to go to sleep, plus there were 7 people in 2 beds so we wanted to be pretty tired when bedtime came around. We decided to walk up to the house on the hill. The house rested peacefully on the hillside, a long deck curling around the outer extremities and a well used pool table that must have travelled pretty far to be resting on the concrete slab it was on, under the protection of a bamboo roof. Upon the deck lay several pillows and hammocks and we made ourselves at home. 'Pete' came out to greet us as we settled down. He emerged from his room in well worn shorts and a loose singlet, looking like an old sage emerging from his bamboo hut, creased face heavy with knowledge. The old sage sat next to me and began to tell his story, a familiar one in Thailand, of having travelled for a short time and returned to live, drawn by the charming way of life in the islands. He was of Irish birth and now had a Thai wife and child and lived in the house on the hill. Beers were dispensed from the fridge and due to the death of pete's mp3 my exultant ipod provided relaxed beats. The old fellow disappeared for a moment and returned with his meditational goods, a bag of the dirty lettuce and a great big bamboo bong. he sat himself, cross-legged before me, and having told his life story, began to ennumerate the pros and cons of the drugs before him, intbetween great big hoofs of smoke. The old boy had obviously run off the track a little, smoked a forest in his time, and kinda just found himself in old Koh Tao, lost but happy. I wasn't one to judge and from the pits of his herbally enlightened brain, some worth spilt forth during our conversations. After some time everyone went quiet and sat back in their hammocks and on their pillows, and felt the serenity of the quiet bay, lit by the big moon above, trees gently whispering in the sea breeze as a little Shwayze beats relaxed me soul. I looked through the rising smoke out into the bay, took a big swig of my beer, cold condensation running down my hand, and felt pretty good. Soon enough it was time for bed and we trooped back down the hill to our little family room for a well deserved kip. My wiley ways snagged me a bed with three lovely English girls and i caught the train to spoontown with old mate Alice, capping of a pretty good detour of a day.

Oh man someone turn that fan back on. The damn power clicked off at 6am before the sun had even peeked its cheeky yellow head above the horizon and our charming family abode quickly turned nightmarish. The gecko's on the wall trilled 'up and atom bitches!!!' in gecko language and i was inclined to agree. I sullenly left the comfort of my spot and ran down to the water for a blessedly cool swim. Not much later we were back on the tourist side of the island and we somehow squeezed onto a pre-booked ferry (rachael is very persuasive) , heading back to good old Chumphon town. The trip was still bumpy but the melodrama was less and we plugged in some Norah Jones, comfortable in the VIP room and gloating in the fact we had done it for free, and settled into the oversize chairs, content to sleep the trip away.

Posted by codywant 05:42 Archived in Thailand Comments (0)

Half-Perfect Storm

melodrama on the high seas

Today you join me in a marked contrast to the last reflections on moon fuelled madness. I am listening to Jack Johnson and looking forward to a massage and a swim. We are at one of the many reggae bars and today im going to try an oil massage. I lay down on the mattress, under a big shady tree on the beachfront. The masseuse asks me to take my pants off. Good thing i wore underpants today. The oil goes on, nice and warm and its feeling pretty good. But then a real technical difficulty occurs. I believe the scientific word is 'friction'. Curse my hairy nature! The pleasant oil massage soon turns into an elaborate form of torture, more so because i am paying to have it done. The girl is laughing maniacally as the massage turns to a waxing and the hair starts to come off in her hand. The relaxed state i was in just moments ago seems a distant dream as i grimace my way through this 'pleasant' experience. Finally we are finished and i leave the massage place a little more streamlined than when i entered.

We get a table and sit down for a long late lunch. Everyone is pretty tired from our escapades the night before and the relaxing scene is just right. We end up staying till late and order a few cocktails. The best introduction ive seen for some time was when a younger waiter gave our friend a 'fuck on the beach'. Keen to continue the strange sights we had so far encountered we decided to go and see a ladyboy show.

The ladyboy's are a strange phenomenom in Thailand. For some reason it is funny when a Thai man dresses as a woman wheras it is distrubing when a white man does. The show was really funny and pretty well done, maybe even 'classy' if i may use the word in this context. Well it was at least classier than some of the other ones we had glanced into. The really dodgy thing about the ladyboy show is how feminine some of them are. When you are no wearing glasses and you've had a few beers it gets pretty hard to tell which is which and if that was your flavour...well i could see how a few poor boys got caught in the rain. After the show we walked the 'seedy' streets in Samui to see all the hookers and dodgy bars, red lights and all plus free pool!!! I'm sure thats not the only suprise you'd get in one of these joints.

After full moon rob came over to Samui and we hatched a plan for him to roll with us in big Chumphon. It was nice to be heading 'home' with everyone and i was looking forward to starting teaching (kind of). The plan was to be home on the saturday night in time to see P-boys live band at the bar.

No dice. Remember how i fell asleep on the way to Samui because the ferry ride was so smooth? Not so much this time. We walked out to the wharf and i said to everyone, 'hey dudes it looks a little windy today, it might get a little bumpy' or some such statement. By this time, however, our little crew knew that i liked to spin a tall tale now and then so they chose to call me on my possible bs'ing, nautical experts that they all are (damn colonialists). Long story short i was right (was it in doubt?) and it was real stormy and looking pretty perfect storm.

Now these ferries are designed to travel between islands in most weather and we've seen worse on the trip from Manly to the city so i wasn't too worried. What was worrying was how everyone on the ferry handled the bad weather. I think at least 10 people earnt Academy awards that day. It was like a bad drama play directed by Mr.G. I mean, i haven't seen this quality melodrama since Days Of Our Lives (a horrible daytime soap for our international readers). Two basic rules on a boat: keep balanced and always hold onto something. I guess thats not common knowledge in old Angleland. Dear god these tourists were diving about the place, trying to avoid sea spray, screaming bloody murder everytime they got wet, crowding one side of the heavily rolling boat, slipping over and sliding everywhere. I could have sworn i was in a live reinactment of Titanic (which is you've seen the movie is one time too many). I saw one girl, on her stomach, clutching desperately at her backpack, reaching, streching as hard as she could for her friends hand, her friend, sitting on the bench and screaming, 'Sarah, please grab my hand! Don't give up!!' It was truly a ridiculous sight.

Across the table from me were 4 boys chain smoking. Now girls have no problem screaming and carrying on but boys don't like to be sooks infront of their mates. So these guys were all doing the overly hearty laugh that poorly hid their intense fear. They posed and smoked in all sorts of shapes, leaning on rails, each other and jumping about the place. One guy 'jokingly' puts on a life vest and his whole crew follows, all 'heartily laughing' even as they take one from one of the girls. One of them even took a valium and offered me the other one! I guess we take for granted how comfortable we are with the water (Yew Australians are sick units). It would have been scary if you weren't used to it and the boats morale of melodramatic hysteria was really not helping.

The girls were really not digging the whole experience and at one stage we actually started to really roll a lot. It was still safe but me and robbie knew we wern't going to make it to Chumphon that day. Chumphon was another 2 hours after the next stop, Koh Tao. There was no way we could convince our little pale friends to continue. Anyway i've heard Koh Tao is nice. At this stage it was still pretty bumpy and Rachael was squeezing my arm. At first it was not a problem but each roll resulted in a tightening of her hand, and seriously Rachael has little hands of steel. Just as i was preparing myself for a life with one arm something miraculous happened.

The morale of the boat at this time was ridiculously low. It was foggy and stormy all around and people were clutching loved ones, ready to face the lukewarm tropical water, prepared to be the next Jack and Rose. But then oh, at the most dire moment, a cry rises from the front of the boat. No, its not iceberg!, its 'Land! I see land!!' A most joyous eruption of cheers flows through the boat and everyone rejoices as they realise they will not be headlining CNN today. But then, at that most perfect moment a horrible crack rends the air and our boat of love snaps back to its former state of black fear, everyone wondering which important peice of the boat has broken. However it was only a plastic chair breaking under the weight of two chain smoking boys embracing. A big laugh rises and the boat of love returns. Ah the perfect comical timing of our valium fuelled heroes is hard to describe, it was a beautifully amusing moment capping off a hilariously melodramatic ferry ride.

We arrive in Koh Tao and it was sure nice to be on solid ground. As a price for our detour me and rob had bartered a few beers from our companions and it was time to pay up. We head to 7-Eleven and get paid. The important work being done, we set our minds to finding a place to sleep. Unfortunately the full moon bandits were all island hopping back to Bangkok and had filled out the popular side of the island. Through not inconsiderate research we found a place on the other, quiet side of the island. We jumped in the back of our courtesy ute and a very hairy suprise 4wding session later we were at 'Hin Wong Bay Bungalows'. The detour to Koh Tao proved to be very entertaining but we'll talk about that later.

Posted by codywant 04:36 Archived in Thailand Comments (0)

Howling at the Moon

madness in haad rin

We spend full moon day chilling out at the beach. We have arranged to get a speedboat to Koh Penyang. It feels distinctly Miama Vice as we jet across the ocean, sun setting behind us. I crush my can of chang beer and plant a big grin on my face. Alice looks especially nice tonight in blue and im feeling pretty good about everything.

We arrive and jump onto the rickety excuse for a wharf and wander with the crowd. From the moment we arrive the air has a tangible madness and everyone is excited. We walk towards the main beach and the road is lined with stores selling all manner of frothing equipment for the night ahead. I’m actually tempted to buy fluro body paint but pass on it (for now). There are stalls selling ‘buckets’, basically a plastic bucket with a bottle of spirits and some red bull to mix it with and the red bull here is that intense, condensed shit that makes you go woooo. The crowd begins to thicken and we start to hear that loopy bass run that all the kids dig. It’s still early and we meet sam kat and rob for dinner. They have the lowdown and have been sussing the place for a few days. We throw a couple of tables together and have a big ol’ dinner. I’m pretty stoked being with all these cool cats right now and that longneck of chang aint half bad either. We get a taste of the madness to come as fireworks explode pretty much at head height on the beach below us.

Somehow sam had met the ‘proprietor’ of the infamous ‘magic mountain’ and convinced him to let him play a set at midnight on full moon. Now for those who have never heard of magic mountain, here is a quick lowdown. MM is perched on the rocks overlooking Haad Rin (full moon) beach. Adorned with lights of evey colour imaginable the most interesting thing about this place is that the police have been paid not to walk above the bottom step. This becomes very evident when you venture into the heart of magic mountain. The sweet smell of herb wafts from the two incredibly large joints that some Australian boys are lighting up and all manner of street freaks and substance bashers groove, slide, shuffle and fall their way around the dance floor. A great big balcony overlooks the madness on the beach below and we make this our temporary home. The laughs are plentiful and the drinks more so, everyone is feeling pretty good. I stand against the banister with rob and sam and we marvel at the scene below us.

The beach stretches out and it is a carnival of madness that could well have been designed by Hunter S. Thompson in his prime. Random fires splash up and light the sky, flashing lights and lasers dance on the rising smoke. An epic crowd moves and sways on the beach to all manner of beats. Fluro painted bodies pump and writhe and people dance, fall, rise or sleep, some looking distinctly corpselike in the sand, some dance as if in the process of being electrocuted. A lone stage sits a few metres out in the water, people crawl along it like spiders. A fiery sign labels this warzone, Hadd Rin, 209, Full Moon Party. We raise our glasses in cheers and survey below, we are stoked, we are in a strange land and a strange place but we wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Sam plays a wicket set and gets all the crazy cats on magic mountain up and bopping. I’m trying to answer this Australian cabby who is high as a fucking kite and talking about the human ego when a man enters the dance floor with a heavy shuffle, a midriff top and a g-banger. I’m no longer shocked by the things I see here and I go back to watching sambo. He does an ace job and ive never seen him so stoked. To dj on magic mountain on full moon at midnight is surreal and super cool.

I can’t tell you what happened the rest of the night. You could attribute this to excessive consumption but im going with the, ‘whatever happens on full moon stays on full moon.’ We howl at the moon and descend from our mountain lair into the sea of activity. The night blurs into beats, bodies and lights, things come and go, I hold alice, I laugh with rob, I dance to mj and I crash in the sand. We all watch the sun rise and begin our trek back to the hotel. Sunlight casts a judging gaze on all involved and all we have to say is, water!!!!

We come to the wharf, its about 9 o’clock and getting hot. We are all pretty keen to go home but so is everyone else. The rickety excuse of a wharf is swaying and buckling and so overloaded that people are climbing down the side of the metal railing like spiders. Horrible people still munted on all manner of substances groan and grimace in ecstasy, agony or a combination of both as they crowd closer. I see the most repulsive thing I have seen for some time. A woman wears a saggy olive bikini that she has no business wearing and her face is contorted in a gruesome grin, her pupils dilated to saucers. She wears an ethnic hat of vibrant colours with dangling silver pieces. One hand scratches and the other is held aloft, a gigantic greasy chicken leg being waved back and forth as she tries to talk. Then the leg descends and she attacks the meat like a wild animal, ripping and slurping, grease splashing. I try to move back but find myself on the edge of the wharf. The water looks pretty damn inviting right now. Eventually this Neanderthal with a chicken leg club leaves and I relax a little. After a big wait we finally board the boat and head back to our haven of Koh Samui, a ragged shadow of the group that came yesterday, but having thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. On the boat back a drunk irish man informs alice that she is lucky to be with me because I look like a male megan fox. The time is 10:30am and this man is still well liquored. I pull alice closer and feel pretty lucky myself. The irish man swings into depression and starts to talk about how the world is ending. I look ahead to the island and feel like it is just beginning.

Posted by codywant 03:46 Archived in Thailand Comments (1)

(Entries 6 - 10 of 14) « Page 1 [2] 3 »