Day 366 - London, England

Home sweet home!



OK, so there's WAY too much to tell right now, and I'm super busy. But so that you know...

• YES - I haven't blogged in 6 weeks
• YES - I have some posts from India to write in the next week or so
• YES - I'm home now

and

• YES - I had the time of my life.

Until I manage to extract enough time to finish the blog, sit tight and check back here in a few days. There should be something up by then. Laters. x

Day 324 - The Full Moon Party

So, we left off with me stuck in bed, sweating out my tonsilitus-induced fever and wishing I was partying with the routy 18-30s crowd that are inhabiting my hotel. Its not looking good. Truth is - i'd kinda lost faith in the whole thing anyway. This full moon party looks more and more likely to be the worst thing we've done all year. If the people we're staying with are anything to go by, i reckon the whole crowd will be offensively laddish and uninteresting.



But its out of my hands. I'm not well enough, and sweating so much that within seconds of being out of my air-conditioned room I have sweat dripping down my chest and back. Wearing clothes is not an option. But the sun's setting. And I haven't eaten in 2 and a half days, so I wander out to meet the guys who are sat drinking vodka red bulls at the overcrowding bar area. I'm shirtless because of the sweat - I certainly don't have the body to be flashing my pecs after dark - but I have to do it. And a soda water later, my energy levels have miraculously altered. I'm laughing for the first time in days. I'm trotting to the toilet when before it would have been a near crawl. My splitting headache has been replaced with a gentle wave of nausea every 20 minutes - not ideal, but not painful.



And soon enough the hotel drags out a huge buffet which the rotten 20-somethings claw over embarassingly. And then comes the dance music, some dancing from the more drunk members of the hotel occupants, some splashing from the re-opened (although somewhat cloudier) pool. And then the body paints.



The full moon party - a legend in Thailand and around the world - is inextricably linked with fluo body paints. At the actual party you can buy the most ornate and amazing fluo paint tattoos for just a few quid, which look amazing (providing you don't sweat them off). Within minutes, I'm covered in fluo stripes down my arms and legs. Some routy girl from newcastle paints something rude on my back which I then have to try and wash off before I get caught on camera. And Eve's so wasted she's throwing paint on herself and rubbing bodies with other party-goers to spread paint over each other. All this and we've not even left the hotel yet.



But midnight comes, and the night is short, so we decide to leave. The atmosphere in our little quintet is odd. Tom's a bit wired (he took Ping Pong up on his offer and bought something suspicious) and has Tick (his new girlfriend) hanging onto his arm as excited as I am; Eve's wasted and talking non-stop; Sam's drunk but already decided that she hates tonight so isn't in the mood; and I'm smiling from ear to ear because the antibiotics have finally kicked in and I feel alive enough to go for a dance. We walk through the heaving town - past haords of revellers decked in the fluo paints and dressed up to the max. The crowd seem to all be looking for something - this far from the beach seems to be too far for the party vibe to stretch. But we as get closer, the party picks up. Before long we're just meters from the beach and it all becomes apparent.



So, I know what to expect. Its a big beach - maybe a kilometre or so long and quite wide. Bars line the top of the beach, all suitably equipped for a good party. But what we see before us is insane. The beach, from shoreline to barline, is rammed. There's barely room to move. The roar of the beach bars is deafening. Broken beer bottles poke out of the sand. Wasted teenagers lying on the the sand get trodden on and apoligised to by other drunken teens. Everyone clutches the tiny buckets that are so familiar in these parts. And the crowds go on and on and on for as far as you can see - constantly thick and throbbing and sweaty. I'm still sweating out my fever, but the electric atmophere grabs us all and propels us into the crowd.



And within seconds we realise why the beach party has such an infamous reputation. Just metres from each other, we lose sight of tom and tick and its a few minutes before we find them. Eve's dragging behind and sam has to rescue her from becoming lost. Tom's flipping out too - the overpriced chalky pill he bought has made him go a bit mental and after lashing out at some dude he's holding his head in his hands and I suggest Tick takes him somewhere quiet to calm down. 2 recruits down. 3 left.

I'm not drinking, but Eve and Sam are sinking vodka buckets (a small bottle of vodka, 2 small bottles of red bull and a CocaCola), getting more wasted by the second. Those things are lethal. Eve's suddenly talking to some welsh dude and seconds later she's got her legs wrapped around him and they're kissing in the middle of the throng of people. Sam and I spend 20 minutes trying to get the 100m down the beach to the toilet - bumbling over sand-covered plastic chairs, passed-out rudeboys and techno worshippers. I buy a bottle of water from some dude I find unable to stand up, talking to a tree (that was me in Peru, remember). When we get back, Eve's still at it, so we leave her and go for a wander.





Sam's trashed at this point, and I just wat to dance. So I tactically escort her through the crowds to a hardcore bar. Its great - every bar is blaring their choice of music out across the sands. If you don't stand directly in front of the bar, you get this nasty mix of two genres singing into each ear. But we make it about 10 bars down, and Sam's too wasted to dance to this mental squall of sound, so before long she's ready to head home (mission acomplished). I wander her back - its carnage across this part of the island. We pass people passed out on the sand, drunkenly fighting in the streets. Even a girl brazenly giving a boy a blowjob on the beach - Sam mistakenly thinks they're hugging. And within 30 minutes I'm heading back towards to the party - alone this time. I've ditched all the troops now - its just me and I can finally come and dance and space myself out (high on antibiotics and one red bull).



And excitedly I approach the beach - still heaving at 3am - ready to go and find some music to rave to - when I hear "DUNCAN!!!!! DUNCAN!!!!!!!" from the crowds. I look - horrified - its a completely wasted and slumped Eve sitting on the same deckchair we left her in with the welsh boy 2 hours ago. She's so so trashed and in her stumbling talk accuses us of promising to come back for her and never coming back. Some truth in the statement - perhaps. But she caught me out. My precious alone time destroyed - i take her under my wing and escort (again, tactically) to the Hardcore bar where the music blips at over 180 beats per minute - where only the bravest survive. She's offended by the music, slumps on the sand and leaves me to dance - keeping a watchful eye on her all the time.

And within 20 minutes some lone dude aproaches her, starts talking to her, and before long they're kissing. Nice work eve - but its all further reinforcement of how debauched this place is. He leaves shortly after, and I pick Eve up and take her for some food, after which she decided to wander home. Its a good 25-minute walk with a drunk girl, but its pretty safe so I tell I'm going to stay and minutes later I'm back on my own. I find myself a spot outside a house bar, sink another red bull and dance with the rest of the beach for 2 hours. Until the sun starts to rise.



And its here I realise that the two red bulls I've downed have had a somewhat suspicious effect on me. Its rumoured that the red bull here is of such supreme strength and mixed in such a way that it actually acts on the brain in the same way as amphetamines. The much lauded myth that they actually add amphetamines to the buckets is rubbish - its the chemicals in the red bull. And I experienced this first hand; one side effect of taking pills is gurning - the hugely unattractive practise of unconsciously grinding your teeth and jaw for a few hours after taking the drug - and by 6am the (now three) red bulls I've drunk (neat) have had the same effect. I find myself a spot on the beach to watch the sunrise and quietly gurn to myself, shading my mouth with my hand to hide how rank it looks.



And with that, the sun rises slowly. In 10 and a half months travelling the world, I've only seen 1 other sunrise. How bad is that. Yeah, I've seen some from my sleeply daze on nightbuses, and i've been awake when its got light outside. But this was only the second (after one on the Bolivian Salt Flats) that I've actually sat and watched. And this time I'm alone, and conscious, and alert and observant. At first its hard to tell what's different about a sunrise and a sunset. Its the same familar pinks and oranges, catching on the underside of clouds and beaming down towards me. But soon you realise why its so novel - the colours from the sun are the same, maybe a little more pink, but mostly the same. But the backdrop is different. Its not a dark blue sky, darkening with the dropping of the sun. This is a crystal blue sky, almost white in its purity, washed with just a hint of blue. Its stunning. And every minute the sky's changing as the sun, still lurking below the horizon, gradually rises up. I sit and wait for 40 minutes. Every second, like waiting for that bus around the corner, thinking it will break the horizon any second, but it doesn't. Eventually I bore and wander the beach until it finally rises. And with that people flock to the waters front, some dancing, some praying, some couples contemplating the new day hand-in-hand. I suddenly feel oppresively alone, and i'm still sweating out my fever and gurning. The day has arrived, and its time for me to head home.



And so start to I wander slowly back - past a fenced off section of the beach for party casualities (a commendable practise) and past literally HUNDREDS of lost flip-flops. I've never seen anything like that before, and pass a tramp collecting the ones in best condition - i assume to try and match up and sell? I wander through the streets home, now soaked in daylight and crowded with homebound revellers. I'm in a daze - the caffeine has truly gone to my head and I can barely concentrate on the raucous sights and sounds of post-party Haad Rin. And soon I'm in bed - wide awake and alert, still sweating, using a curtain as a cover because mine is nowhere to be seen. Eve's just got back - she ended up wandering the island with some boy and being lost for hours. My jaw's still crushing. My eyes are sore. And sometime in the next hour I fall asleep.

And with the morning comes the most horrendous of Sam and Eve's hangovers. Tom's happy - he finally did the deed with Tick last night - but we've got to check out in less than an hour and are booked on a nightbus to Bangkok later today. Sam's been sick. Eve's miserable. I'm packing my stuff, feeling much better although in need of some proper sleep, and soon enough we're wishing farewell to Tom (see you in London mate) and jumping on a taxi across the island to the ferry terminal.

What did I think of the party? Well - it was pretty awesome. In terms of scale, its amazing. Its a huge beach, rivalling the first Fat Boy Slim party in Brighton, but on a monthly basis. The people are routs, but that's a huge generalisation since I managed to meet (when on my own) some nice people. Its got a little something for everyone, and whilst the anticipation was a bit more exciting than the real thing, I had a wicked time, despite the sweats and unexpected gurning. I wish I'd felt better. But it was great. Perhaps. My ambivalence stretches as far and wide as that crammed beach. Would I go back - probably not. Will I remember it fondly - I think so. Its back to Bangkok for me now, and then India. Farewell Thailand. Its been fun.

Day 321 - Ko Pha Ngan

Ko Pha Ngan is probably the most revered of all the thai islands. Its small enough to have a single road running around its perimetre, its got great beaches and plenty of snorkelling sights, and its overrun with party animals every month, flocking here from all over the world to celebrate the Full Moon Party. How could it go so wrong?



So, after still-drunkenly leaving Ko Samui, we have what can only be described as one of the most amusing and soul-destroying short-journies of our lives. All 4 of us are hungover (I've hardley slept and still have redbull coursing through my veins) when we get picked up by a truck driver with a deathwish. Within 30 seconds of leaving the hotel, he's driven so fast around a corner that Tom's backpack flies 5 metres into the air and slams down on the road in front of the oncoming traffic. We reload it onto the roof, then we're off again at 90mph along dust tracks, sat unprotected in the back of this guys pickup truck. There's 10 of us crammed in. Sam's fearing for her life, banging on the driver's rear window to tell him to slow down. he doesn't. Before long, Sam's halfway between crying and being sick, so we stop the truck and get out.

demanding our ticket from the truck driver, who's promising to go slower now, sam's had enough, so we hop in a cab and take a leisurely journey to the port. Much nicer. That is until, after checking in to the port ready for our ferry ride to Ko Pha Ngan, we're told that we're at the wrong port. OUR ferry is about a mile down the road. We're flipping out. we've missed the ferry by 5 minutes and probably lost our 10quid ticket price. Sam's nearly crying again. I'm shouting for her to calm down. We wait 10 minutes for a cab, then travel 2 minutes down the road where our ferry is sat in the dock *waiting* for us to arrive.

Our mental truck driver is shouting at us to hurry, whilst we're lugging our massive bags onto our backs and walking down the wooden gangway. Its shameful. An entire open-topped ferry of people are staring at us - they've been forced to sweat it out in the blazing sun for 20minutes waiting for us to arrive. Its truly the walk of shame. But we make it on the ferry, which choppily crosses the straight in an hour and drops us off on the beachless shore of Haad Rin, party town on Ko Pha Ngan. Sam makes an immediate run for the toilet, projectile vomits and poisonously returns and sits in the shade, while Tom and I investigate the missing ferry pickup we were expecting. But soon enough, we're in a cab to our hotel (its just down the road, but the heats insane) and checking in.



And here's where the fun starts. Ping pong - the hotel's resident bar manager - welcomes us, leads me to reception, and offers me whatever drugs I want on the way. I nervously decline (the penalties for buying drugs in thailand are enough to scare the crap out of anyone, especially when he's brazen about it). We're then shown around - the common area is a huge expanse of wooden floorboards covered in cushions and adorned with about 30 shirtless beach bums laughing and drinking. The site has an internet cafe, well-stocked bar, a nice, albeit narrow, beach and a lush swimming pool - plenty deep enough and big enough for me to dive around like an idiot for days without disturbing the peace. And in case a swimming pool wasnt quite enough, the place is consumed in flesh - hot boys and girls, lounging around in barely enough clothes to be considered decent, showing off their buff bodies and trim stomachs. Its a bit grim, but kinda pretty at the same time. And since its so bloody hot, i grab my towel and spend the next 3 hours with Tom in the pool, chatting to some of the more interesting members of the congregation of young people.



An that's where the fun stops for me. That evening takes ages to arrive, and whenit does we're too tired to attend the hotel-hosted pool party. So after watching a DVD instead, I nip to the bar to see how things are going down and ITS HIDEOUS. Its actually like a Club 18-30s holiday - shed loads of completely wasted 20-year-olds dancing like monkeys, bumping into me, spitting on the floor. Girls with their tops off shaking their tits around while boys stare at their chests like they've never seen a pair before (I caught you Tom). People in the pool, wasted, holding their pint glasses above their heads so not to spill anything. Drunk girls in bikinis spiralling around and being pushed into the pool by equally wasted boys. I stayed for about 3 minutes. It was grim. Although I kinda wanted to stay just for the sights.

And in the morning, my beloved Pool Of Dreams was closed - for cleaning. A process which ultimtely took 3 whole days. A team of 6 thai guys with sieves crouch beside the pool sieving up the most revolting mixture of frothing beer, vomit and, i'm sure, other bodily emissions. The party went on til 6am, and is known for being heinously debaucherous. Great. No diving for me today.



So Sam, Eve and I head into town where we wander the single main high-street crowded with jewellery shops, 7-11 stores and swimwear shops. Within 10 minutes we arrive at the famous Sunrise Beach, site of the upcoming Full Moon Party, and we spend a couple of hours wandering the wide and lush beach, tapping our toes to the oversized sound-systems adorning each and every bar on the beachfront and dipping our feet in the cool water to cool off. The beach is overrun with the same crowds as the hotel - buff and trim 18-30s flexing their muscles during a game of volleyball or tanning their already stupidly dark skin further. Eve and I feel like the rank lard-arses of the beach, covering our shamefully un-toned stomachs and trying not to make too much eye-contact with the prettiest of the herds.



And its now that things go a bit messy for me. Walking along the beach heading home, a sudden shoot of headache cracks through my skull. Followed by a hint of shivering. Within 20 minutes I'm in bed, air-con cranked down to its lowest setting (18 degrees), wrapped in 3 towelling blankets to soak up the sweat. An hour later, I'm unable to sleep from the fever and moaning to myself constantly. Its tonsilitus - confirmed the next day when I sum up all the strength I have to get a cab to the island's doctor and recieve not just a course of anti-biotics, but my first ever INJECTION IN MY ARSE! (come on guys, no jokes please). Much to Sam's amusement, I'm laid out on a doctor's bed, white never-seen-the-light-of-day bum cheeks shining in the waiting room while a tiny nurse pokes my fleshy rear as deep as she can go, walks off with the needle still poking out, waggling with every move I make, and eventually injects the good stuff 5 minutes later and charges me 30 quid for the pleasure.

It was supposed to sort me out properly. But it didn't. The next morning, the holy day which marks the start of the Full Moon Party, I am still sick as a dog. The pool is still being seived. The weather's kinda rubbish, but i don't care because I still want to spend my life in bed. I'm devastated. Its looks like I'll miss the party after all. The only energy I have I waste on buying some water to drink. Ko Pha Ngan isn't working out as I had hoped. And our shitty bedroom has hardly any light and no TV, so I'm bored as well as miserable and lonely. And we were so excited about coming here and its so grim now. So I sit it out - reading my book, watching the walls, listening to the same music I've listened to for the last 10 months, and wishing I was feeling just slightly well enough to leave this pit of a room. But I can't.

And so I prepare to miss out on the Full Moon Party - its probably gonna be hideous anyway. Or will I....

Day 318 - Ko Samui

Fake bags, fake sunglasses, fake dvds... this place is so fake, even the women are fakes.



A day of travelling across Thailand takes its toll on your sensibilities. After a ferry ride, 2 bus journies, another ferry ride and then an hour journey in the back of a truck not really knowing where to get off, we decide to hop off, tired and irritable, on a highstreet that we *think* is Chaweng - most populous and happening town of the sleepy island of Ko Samui. Another 40 minutes of trawling for a cheap hostel and eventually we're unpacking our stuff at 8pm. I've said it before guys, and i'll say it again, travelling is like a full time job.

Anyway, we unpack in our plush, air-conditioned rooms, and head out to get some food. Minor drama (sam would probably disagree with the 'minor' aspect of that last comment) when we find that Sam's cash card doesn't work anymore through lack of funds. She's nearly in tears, as am I since I have been relying on her for cash advances since I maxxed my Egg card. But we leave her to fight it out with the bank and Eve and I head into Chaweng town.



And this is when it dawns on us exactly what Ko Samui is. This town is made up entirely, without any exceptions, from fake designer goods. Every shop sells fake Christian Dior sunglasses, or fake Billabong boardshorts. Fake Fendi handbags. Fake Gucci shoes. Fake DVDs, CDs, Playstation, Xbox and PC games. Fake Eastpak backpacks. Even fake Dali paintings. This whole town thrives on a industry of selling fake stuff to cheap tourists. Its tacky and imposing and feels like you're taking a bath in dirty water when you wander the streets and peer in at the goods they're displaying with embarrassingly low prices (which are just a starter price, usually 4 times more expensive than what a keen haggler can get). I don't like it, and to top it off, we're located about a mile down the road from the Burger King which we're all craving, so it takes an age to walk there and back, by which time I'm ready for bed.

So yeah, i'm not altogether taken with Ko Samui. Whilst I'm happy to browse the Playstation 2 games and try and find some boardshorts to get for my impending trip to Ibiza (i know - a year travelling isn't enough, I need another 2 weeks of sun just after I get back), I still feel this place is rotten and cheap and unappealing. And having no cash makes it all the worse. I can't even afford the cheap games, and they cost just over a quid. Anyway, to lighten my mood, effervescent Tom, who's always up for a bit of adventure, decides we should hire a jeep for the day and explore the island. And a good idea it is too.



First stop was some huge buddha on a hill. Its kinda cute and feels like you've stepped into the set of a movie - cute local shacks selling drinks and snacks (overpriced, of course), dusty roads and big trees bending their branches down to the brush on the ground. Its nice. Tom and I wander the monastry, which the girls don't want because they're wearing disrespectful clothes, which is nice. Monks everywhere, elaborate snake carvings and of course a close-up on the huge buddha that dominates the landscape. Its big. Not MASSIVE. Not Rio Jesus big. But big all the same and probably took a while to make. So I'm impressed.



Thais (and buddhists in general I think, correct me if I'm wrong) have a style of foretune telling, a lot like a horoscope but far less ambiguous. Here, as in china, people shake a basket of sticks really gently until one stick falls out. Each stick is numbered between 1 and 26 (or something like that) and that number corresponds to a fixed fortune description. bringing all this into the 20th century is this amazing machine...



yes, just like a fruit machine / roulette wheel, you insert a coin (5baht), watch the LED-wheel spin and eventually stop on a number, and correspond it to your fortune. And here was mine.



And whilst the description may read my 'fortune', it unfortunately wasn't so fortunate for Tom, who left his wallet on the machine and when returning to get it 5 minutes later, found that it had been nicked. Credit cards and cash, swiped from a monastry. Karma? i dunno. But these monks are sophisticated - they have CCTV watching the whole place, which Tom and I examine at length but find nothing incrimating. Gutted.

We then bomb it in the jeep, open topped and breezy in the scorching pre-monsoon heat, down to the south of the island where we're promised a huge waterfall. We don't find it. But we do find a tiny pool for the girls to soak their sweating bodies in, whilst Tom and I don our hiking boots and trek for an hour up the steep valley sides, clinging to vines and braches, as far as we can go before the sun sets on our adventure.



And one last stop before we head home was this amazing sight...



Here stands a mummified buddha, sat upright, decaying arms resting on his lap, in a sealed glass container. But by some strange fate, he's wearing sunglasses (fakes from Chaweng highstreet, no less). We're told its because his eyes started rotting and they wanted to hide the empty sockets.

Anyway, we ditch the jeep and spend the rest of the evening watching Sex and the City (eve's just bought a whole series on fake dvd), and I end up playing pool with Tom and his new friend Tick (tiny cute cambodian girl who introduced herself as Dick - she's mental).

Now, all along, I was due to travel with Darren when I was in Thailand for a while. he was coming out this way at the same time as us, and we arranged to meet up and have a few beers. But until now, we've only seen each other for one evening and haven't crossed paths since. It all looked like we were gonna miss each other when I emailed him yesterday, until he comes up with an amazing plan. If we stay on the island one extra day, he's coming back, so we get to have a day together. Awesome. So 9am my alarm breaks my already broken sleep, I hop in the jeep and drive to the docks 20 minutes away with Sam to meet Darren and Kate from the jetty. And a couple of hours later we're at their hotel (their *plush* hotel), swimming in their pool and catching up on 2 weeks of thai travels.

And with the evening comes something I'm SO EXCITED about its hard to put it into words. Of course, thailand is famous for its ladyboys. That's a fact. But little did we know, Ko Samui is a hotbed for ladyboys, hosting 2 nightly ladyboy shows and being a haven for ladyboy wannabes. Just wandering through town you see at least 10 boys covered in glitter, boys who are now girls loaded with makeup, and feather boas and huge peacock tails adorning both boys and girls promoting the shows. Its awesome. I wolf whistle a couple (they don't appreciate it, understandable. as if I was bought up to wolf-whistle anyone). Chat to a couple (they like to hold hands with me it seems). Its amazing.



I don't really know why I have a fascination with ladyboys. Its not like I ever did back home. But then its different here. Here these girls (i.e. ex boys) are respected. They are as much part of thai culture as standard men and women. Being a ladyboy isn't so much a person who's uncomfortable in their owen gender, its a whole gender of its own. That's fascinating to me. That it can be so well regarded in society. And to think that we think we're liberal and progressive enough as a western democratic society. This beats the crap out of our attitudes towards gender and identity.



Anyway, on with the show. After a few cocktails to loosen us up on the beach, we weave our way to the show on the main highstreet, take a seat at the side (i'm crapping myself with excitement now) and order some (again, overpriced) drinks. And the show starts. Its amazing. Like a drag show at a tacky gay bar, but with girls in bikinis (they've all had the chop it seems) and an audience of half-shocked, half-fascinated western tourists.



The shows progresses - much to my over-enegetic delight - with a rendition of "I will follow him" from sister act (ladyboy with a blacked-out face), a workout routine hosted by a leotard wearing ladyboy, a couple of power ballards from the host with huge hair and some weird fashion shows with ladyboys wearing antlers. Its mental and I love it.



At one point, they're looking for volunteers from the audience. I hate this stuff, and as the main light shines on me to attract the hosts attention, I make a run for the toilets and lock myself inside. Its hideous. I hate audience participation. But the moment passes and some german guy is seduced into a lapdance from the girls in his pants. Its amusing. I'm glad it wasn't me.



And with that the show goes on. Another few acts, more dancing routines. A big fashion show with each girl labelled with a country. And then the host announces that they need 5 volunteers. Sam, Eve, Tick, Darren and Kate all grab me and Tom by the neck and shouting and cheering thrust our arms in the air. Tom's a (reformed?) homophobe and finds ladyboys somewhat distasteful, so I knew I could count of him to shake the others off and allow me to make a toilet dash. But before I know it he's on his feet, laughing and swearing and dragging me onstage. This is hideous.

So yeah, I'm a show-off. I know that. And I love being the centre of attention. But on my terms only. I hate not being in control, and I hate being stared at. This is awful and I have no idea what they want us to do. The next 10 minutes are a blur of fear, nerves and shame. In front of an audience of some 100 people Tom and I, along with 3 other guys, are escorted across the main stage behind the curtains where a completely naked ladyboy (CHOP CHOP) starts touching my penis and telling me to drop my trousers. I ask what's happening, and she says nothing. More groping of my genitalia as I drop my trousers and she helps me take my t-shirt off. I'm stood in my boxers, next to a naked ladyboy, confused, as she brings out a huge red sequinned dress and a wig.

I'm mortified. I hate this stuff. I hate guys who dress up in girls clothes. I hate it at parties and i hate drunk guys who think its funny. I find it SO cringey its ureal. and here I am, getting zipped up by a ladyboy who seems obsessed with fluffing me up (it only worked a little). And then, all 5 of us are pushed onto the stage with just a thick red curtain between us and the audience, told to dance and smile, and the curtain is raised.



The place erupts. The whole crowd is on its feet, dancing, screaming, laughing. 5 guys, hairy chests and beards a plenty, dressed as women, dancing on stage. I'm near tyhe back, but can make out Sam rushing to the front, smile stretched across her face, taking close up photos. Eve's howling in the distance. We dance for a minute, then we're lined up on stage and interviewed by the hostess. I don't remember what I said, but the place is still in stitches and loving every minute of the show's finale.



And then we're doing the conga through the crowd, dancing some more, and I'm doing some weird kind of dry humping up against a ladyboy (i'm so ashamed of myself) before being led backstage for some more fluffing and the removal of the dress. more naked ladyboys with their hands on my privates, a return to my own clothes and a free huge glass of vodka and coke to numb my adrenaline-fuelled psyche.



It was amazing. The audience ebbs away as the show ends, but we're lauding it up,laughing and taking photos. Its amazing. I'm still in shock somewhat, but its fun. The three ladyboys who'd been fluffing me earlier come out for a photo, and after some play-flirting and raucous laughing we leave the bar to find a club to drink in.



And its here where the night becomes a mess. One strong vodka and a number of beers, in addition to Darren's exquisite company mean we're all into a truck and heading 10 minutes down the road to Malebox, one of the two gay clubs in Ko Samui. Its empty, except for a lone thong-wearing dancer shaking it on a podium and 5 of 6 thai guys lurking around the bar. We're all manic, laughing and shouting. Tom gets up on the podium, dancing aruond when he's not cuddling up to his new lady friend Tick, and Eve and I are dancing around like idiots.



And about an hour later the girls decide to head off, so Darren, Tom, Tick and I jump in a cab and head into town, where a huge party is going off. Hundreds of thais, dancing in the streets. Its unreal. My alcohol-fuelled lack of perception blends the next 3 hours into a blur of moments - following the crowds to a secret pool party, dancing in the toilets with a load of thai guys, talking to an irritating australian (i love australians, just not this one), drinking out of other people buckets of whisky, taking way too many photos with people I don't know, waving goodbye to darren and staying on my own, and eventually making it home and slumping into bed. All very rock n roll.





And with the morning comes a still-drunken last chance to pack my backpack, regale the stories of last night to the girls and Tom and grab some crisps for our journey to Ko Pha Ngan. Ko Samui might be tacky as hell and hideously ripped off, but having Darren here made it an awesome time. It looks like we'll be having plenty more nights of carnage when I get back.

Day 317 - "The Beach" & the tsunami

Today was possibly one of my favourite days in Thailand. In fact, I think it was my most favourite. I'm writing this almost 2 weeks after it happened - a sure sign that I've been enjoying myself way too much - and nothing's topped it yet. So I dedicated a whole posting to a 4-hour event. Anyway, on with the day...



So, its our 4th day on Ko Phi Phi. Yesterday we were supposed to be jaunting around the island in a boat but the weather decided to betray us, so we're here today, 9am, mildly hungover from an evening of watching bad lady boys dance to bad gay pop music to the open-mouthed reception of hundreds of western tourists. More on that another day, but for now, its sufficient to say that I'm still a little drunk, giggling like a kid and overly excited about our day on the waves. Slapping on the factor 15 and clambering into our boat, the 6 of us head off across the crystal clear waters of Ko Phi Phi's east beach heading south.



After passing bay after bay of white sand beaches and cliff-side huts, decorated with wooden shacks and garland-covered long-boats, we stop in a small cove where the 10ft deep perfectly clear water covers a vast field of sparkling coral. No idea how deep it is from above the gentle waves, i'm the first to don my snorkel and mask and drop in. And within minutes we're all face down in the water, gazing at the gorgeous coral formations.



So, its not the Great Barrier Reef here. The water's not *quite* as clear, and the coral's not *quite* as colourful or varied. There's the odd Chang Beer can rusting on the needle-like coral bed, and occasional trees of coral the size of footballs snapped at the their root and fading from life rest against other more vivid sponges. That all said, its a pretty good alternative. This isn't the best place in Thailand for snorkelling, but its as good as it could be and for anyone thinking of visiting, don't be put off by what you get told. Its a nice ride, and we spent a good 30minutes lost in the abundance of fish, circling us as our boat driver throws banana skins in to attract them, and the warm sunshine penetrating our lotioned backs and glittering off the shallowest corals.



And the next 2 hours were pretty much this. Another stop - this time in deep deep water with thousands of fish bombing around in those amazing formations likes dynamic clouds. We'd dive deep to try and reach them and the cloud would gracefully arch away from us. Diving off the boat was amazing - the long boat we were riding stands high out of the water on the helm - perfect for perfecting backflip dives (I couldn't do it - some kind of fear of breaking my neck on the water - no doubt instilled in my from childhood - MUM!).



And after some more corals and a brief landing on a picturesque coral beach (we were expected to pay to disembark - we refused and I have no photos - take my word for it, it was beautiful), our comical guide throws us the map and directs us around the other end of the network of islands to "the beach" beach. "from the movie".





If you haven't seen "The Beach", starring Leo DiCaprio, you're not missing too much. Its good. Not as good as the book (of course), but good. The book itself was *the* traveller book to read if you were in thailand in the late nineties. Even now, its seen gracing the shelves of book exchanges across SE Asia and around these parts of talked about by travellers and locals alike. Some kind of selling point to thailand. Anyway, Lord of the Flies style thriller, Leo hears of the last perfect beach in thailand, uncorrupted by tourists and locals alike, and hunts it down to find a community of backpackers running the place. I won't go on - read it if you're bored.

BUT, the fact is that whilst in the book/film the untouched island paradise is located miles away from here on the other side of Thailand, the actually filming took place on a island off the coast of Ko Phi Phi. And we're heading for it. Its around the back of the most impressive of volcanic plugs that we skirt around, gawping at the sheer hugeness of the rising cliffs, undercut dramatically at the sea level and waiting to collapse at any time. And just minutes later, a mere 20min boat ride from our home island, we encounter The Beach.



I'm pretty rubbish at describing these things, so I'll let the photos do the talking, but this beach is now. Instantly recognisable if you've seen the film, the beach is surrounded by towering limestone cliffs and exudes a serene and tribal quality. Our boat driver, as is the custom for thai tourist-workers, decides to rip us off by charging us to go on the island - we're all well aware this isn't the case and pay up begrudgingly as he hides his face from us in some kind of shame-filled ritual. That aside, we swim in the chalky blue waters, Dan and I skim stones til are arms are tired, and sam skulks around in the shade of the surrounding cliffs to protect her burnt skin, over-sensitised by the anti-malarials we're routinely taking.





But we can't stay for too long - we have other items on the agenda, and after some more sight-seeing under the water (this time dogged by the those microscopic jellyfish that we all hate with venom), we take a slow casual ride around the amazing blues and greens of the coves of the island, claustrophobic from their imposing cliffs and water that radiates colour.





And just as the sun starts to make its descent, slowly at first and then rushing to submerge itself below the horizon about an hour later, our boat driver takes us to our last stop - the 25ft jump. I'm crapping myself. I HATE heights and I HATE climbing to heights and I certainly HATE jumping from heights. I'm nervous and agitated - he's dropped us not at the cliff-jumping site routinely used by these tours with a footpath to the top. No, we're at low-tide and need to clamber over sharp volcanic rocks, scaling the precipitous rockface in flip-flops and bare hands. I cut my foot. I hate this. I can feel the pressure of having to jump getting stronger - the lack of an easy alternative - no way of climbing down. I'll have to jump. I hate that.



Dan's up first. He reaches the top - its about 5 storeys high, and none of us really know if its deep enough. He's nervous (although not scared), but Tom isn't, so he skirts past me (clinging to a tree) and dan, takes a firm grip on his removed flip-flops, smiles for the camera, and he's gone. I see his head disappear over the edge and seconds later a splash and the cheers from the girls in the boat. Dan's itching to get moving too, so edges forward, hesitates a little, then he's gone too. He screamed on the way down - I feel justified to be scared now.



And then its me. Unable for a few seconds to let go of the tree holding me back, I edge myself across the sharp weathered rocks - the deep grooves and razor-like ridges of rocks exposed to the elements for hundreds of years but too tough to let themselves erode gently - and peer over the edge. It so far down. My heart is racing and all I really remember is shouting expletives as I searched for the balls to make the jump deep in my stomach. I look at Sam - she's pleading me on with her eyes. The whole boat now is cheering and shouting but I'm zoned out. Its too high. And I'm scared. I can't do this.



But I did. That hidden part of your brain that hates your fear and hates your weakness grabbed control of my motor-nuerons, zapping them with enough electrical activity to make me step, almost outside of my own control, off the edge of the cliff. Melodrama aside, falling those 5 storeys was more than just a cliff-dive. I remember lucidly the rushing of the air past my ears, the speed at which the water's surface zoomed towards me, the pain as my feet slapped the concrete-like floor and the depth I sunk too, surrounded by an all-encompassing spray of bubble, before clawing my way to the surface.

Its funny. I take this whole experience way too seriously. I shouldn't. It was just a bit of fun. But my whole life I've been hounded by dreams of falling. Dreams of hanging above huge drops, letting go, falling for long enough to compose my thoughts and realise my impending impact, but waking before it happens. And here I was, dropping through the sky. The ground rushed me, its perspective doubling, tripling in size as it comes towards me, only my feet and water seperating what feels like a near-certain death. It was poignant. A realisation that those dreams were accurate. How did I know it would be like that, all those years that i've been having those dreams. How did i know how potently acute that feeling was?

Anyway, I survived. The adrenaline kept me reeling about it for the next hour, and despite the slithers of blood of my feet from the rocks I'm beaming and ready for some more action sports. Maybe not another cliff-dive. But something fun nonetheless. And with that, our boat trip comes to an end and we head back to Ko Phi Phi, where we part company for an hour from the others as Tom and I decide to head up to the viewpoint, high on the cliff overlooking the approaching sunset and a vista over the developed part of the island.





And here is probably a good time to talk, just briefly, about the tsunami. Ko Phi Phi was hit pretty bad - remember we're on the Andaman coast now, west of mainland Thailand and in direct fire of any approaching tsunami's from the Indian Ocean. I've studied some of this stuff, so its not that new to me, but the practicalities are pretty different from my text-book education. The locals here aren't that keen to talk about what happened - when Eve decided to sing the Manic Street Preachers "Tsunami" chorus on the boat trip, the driver berated her quickly and refused to entertain the subject any more. 300,00 people died on Boxing Day, just over 3 years ago. The whole of Ko Phi Phi as I know it was destroyed. Tsunami warning signs around the island point people towards the higher ground that Tom and I are hiking towards to catch the sunset.



I didn't probe much about this stuff - so many people died here, and all around the Indian Ocean that its likely that whoever you speak to probably knows someone in their family, or one of their close friends who died. Especially those people here. But what I did find out was encouraging. One fisherman on Ko Chang told me that as the waters recede (prior to each 10ft high wave to hit the coast, the water recedes back almost a hundred meters out to sea as the wave gathers water), exposing land never seen before by human eyes, fish are left stranded on the seabed. It was at these times, perfectly timed to prevent anyone coming to harm, that fishermen, their children and their wives, would run out to the seabed with baskets grabbing as many of the stranded fish as possible, before running back inland and bracing themselves for the next wave.



And now that Ko Phi Phi has been rebuilt, its as charming as I imagine it ever was. The tourists have returned (after a serious lull that further destroyed a lot of the local businesses here), the evacuation routes and alarms have been installed and everyone keeps a quiet eye on that falling tide, just incase it doesn't come back in. Life has moved on. And as we clamber up the steepest incline I've done in months (since china in fact), we eventually make it up to the viewpoint with just 10 minutes to go before the sun slips out of view. The place is overcome with tourists, some of whom seem to have been sat here for hours waiting for the same thing. But its quiet and contemplative. A book stands outside a shop selling photographs of the damage and destruction caused by the tsunami, at key points that can be picked out from here. But its not tasteless. In fact, its informative and done without unnecessary pity. More a success story in rehabilitation than of defeat by nature.







And with an evening of goodbye drinks with Dan and Sarah, we party into the night, stumble home drunk and prepare for an early rise to head off to Ko Samui, a day's travel away from here but with the lure of more beaches and cheaper prices.

Day 313 - Ko Phi Phi

Leonardo DiCaprio has been here. Confirmed.



Right. Let's get one thing straight. Ko Phi Phi is gorgeous. I don't care how much you think Thailand sucks because *everyone* goes there these days. I don't care how overdeveloped, over-priced or over-trodden those shores are. I don't care. Ko Phi Phi is, without exception, one of the most beautiful islands I've seen on the planet. This is a fact.



We spent 4 days here. Its enough. You need extra days lurking around the Andaman coast (that's the one on the west of the thai peninsula) since the weather is a bit more temperamental than after its crossed the mainland and drenches the gulf coast in ceaseless sunshine. The journey from Ko Chang to Kratie, launchpad for the island, was without incident. Kratie itself, perhaps different when its not raining as heavy as a british winter, was lifeless and uninspiring. We hid ourselves in an internet cafe and slept in log cabins before waking early to catch the 2 hour ferry to the island. Which was beautiful. The islands, as well as most of the coastline in southern thailand, is karst limestone - that type of limestone that stretches vertically towards the heavens for ever, narrowing at the sea level and so appearing to hang in the air, almost weightlessly. Its so beautiful. We're racing across the ocean, catching glimpses of dolphins darting in and out of the water in packs, and growing closer to the large, densely forested island. The most amazing slips of white beaches stretch between headlands, and the crystal clear blue waters get closer to us with every minute.



Arriving on Ko Phi Phi (or PP for short) was another matter. The harbour area is clear, but dirty. The huge passenger ferries clump together, side by side, so that you have to cross from one to another, 3 ferries this time for us, just to get to the jetty. Then its an epic struggle to make it through the crowds of hotel owners thrusting flyers and booklets in your face, side-stepping lazy backpackers blocking your path and all along contending with the searing heat and lack of sea-breeze once on the land.

We stood around for ages - contemplating, trying to bag a decent deal. Getting a room for 4 was out of the question. And 2 doubles were gonna be expensive. Pool out of the question. But trying to get a good price is impossible - and soon we settle for 800B (!!!) per double room with NO FRILLS - the skankiest, most hideous rooms we've stayed in in south-east asia.



That stuff aside, we've arrived and its pretty and its hot, so within minutes we're stripped off down to our boardies and heading the 30seconds walk from our rooms to the beach. The water's crystal clear and calm and we chuck out towels down on the narrow beach and hop in the water. Its amazing. For about 30 seconds. Whilst still only waist deep in the beauitul waters, surrounded by the most impressive of natural bays I've ever seen, a jellyfish about the size of a grain of sand gives me a gentle although painful prod on my leg. Its unpleasant. I swim on. 10 seconds later, I look back and Sam and Eve are striding out of the water towards our towels, scratching and rubbing themselves in discomfort. Tom and I brave it onwards, out to sea. But within a minute we're heading back to shore. The microscopic sea stingers are dogging our every move. Simply the friction of water over the sting sites is enough to make it ripple pain subtly across the surface of my thighs. I'm narked off. Its too hot to sunbathe without being able to dip in the water, so Sam heads back to the room and I sit scratching my invisible 'stings' angrily with Tom and Eve in tow.

So, the sea is out of bounds, at least - as far as my pain threshold will allow - so Tom (fellow sex pest) and I wander along the short beach to see what the place is like. And its a sight to behold. I've only seen this sort of place a couple of other places in the world. Ibiza is one of them. The other is off the tv - some MTV show where they get loads of pretty people to all dance around in their swimmers in the late 90s.



You see Ko Phi Phi is stacked with buff bodies and thin, pretty girls. Its like a perv's dream destination. On every sun bed, lurking in the shallows of the waters edge, playing volleyball enthusiastically, wandering along the beach listening to their iPods with their shorts hanging too low off their hips - this place is overrun with well oiled, worked out and bronzed bodies. Its a bit sick. I mean, what brings all these people to the same place? How do they all know about it? Does Men's Health recommend you come here once you have established your six-pack? Is it known as *the* place to go if you think that you're hot?

I dunno. Whatever, I feel ambivalent about the place. One minute I'm gawping open-mouthed at the guys playing beach ping-pong as the infectious salt waters lap their feet, and the next I'm shading my (not unattractive but evident) belly from the flocks of girls watching me wander by. I never feel self-conscious with my shirt off - i think I look alright - but here I look like a pale, under-excersised over-eater. I hate it. But at the same time, no one seems to care, and I feel accepted into the gang of fun-loving 18-30s. Its so not my scene, but it feels like for a day or two, I can stop and stay.

But the lure of beauty is short-lived as I get bored and sweaty so decide the next best option after being surrounded by hot people is to be surrounded by electromagnetic waves, eminating from Myspace headquarters. A good couple of hours on the internet puts everything into perspective.



Which it does. Along with the promise of some more familar faces. Dan and Sarah, who we met in Sydney at the infamous Maze Backpackers, are on the island, staying at some posh resort on the other end of our locality. Sam has already gone in search of the guys, so I round up Tom and Eve and head off across the island to do the same. It takes us over an hour, 3 hotels and a lot of patient scouring through filing cabinets to find them, but eventually we're pointed at bungalow 2 and soon we're clambering over each other to say hello and catching up on 3 months of missed action.



Its a thai (that is a thai-tourist) custom to drink buckets of alcohol here. They get you wasted in a relatively short amount of time and you ALWAYS want another bucket, so you see these orphaned little half-full buckets lining the streets of thai resorts the next morning. Containing a bottle of local whisky, 2 bottles of redbull and a can of coke, they're lethal, and when I arrive at the scene in the bar, these guys are onto their second and its pretty obvious they're gonna keep going.



2 becomes 3, which becomes 4 before Sarah's dancing on the table, flashing her knickers; eve's wild as always; i'm dragging everyone upstairs onto the dancefloor overlooking the whole bar and dancing like a monkey and tom's sat sweating and wasted in the corner cos he can't really handle his buckets (sorry mate - its true though). Some dude manages to make Dan cry (ah, mate) but he's fought off in no time and soon I'm walking sarah home and stumbling my way through the local village back to our hostel.





And the next two days were a considerably more relaxed affair. Dan and Sarah are staying in the posh place for a few days, so they have a pool, so after getting up around midday we drag ourselves across the island (its a long walk and there's no cars here) to their pool and laze around all day, soaking up the temperamental Andaman sun. We eat plenty, drink plenty, soak and bathe ourselves and even hire a DVD player to watch some films on. Being here is so much like being on a two-week holiday its unreal. I love it.





The whole time was only marred by the weather and a few matters of the heart which came to a climax during the first evening. That said, its hard to be depressed when you're on such a pretty place. The weaving street that runs along the length of the beach, scattered with massage palours, cafes, restaurants and tattoo shops. Shops selling beads and sunglasses and boardies. Seafood restaurants where obese rich men are pointing out which lobster they want their trophy wife to eat. Blind dudes selling garlands of flowers. Palm trees overhanging the path so the steady flow of tourists, like ants marching in single file, need to veer out the way to get around them. Couples hanging off each other as they tread slowly along the sandy brick paths. Kids dropping ice creams and crying, and thai boat drivers calling out for you to take their taxi-boat around the islands on a day-trip tomorrow. Its relaxing and beautiful and despite the horrendous day yesterday, its a pleaure to have arrived and to be enjoying this place. And for minute I thought I was too jaded a traveller to enjoy an over-touristed thai island.



Now, I have to include the photographs, because I'm quite pleased with them, but I want everyone to be fully aware that I HATE FIREDANCERS. I'm not saying that out of some bravado for hating people who work on beaches, or because i'm too cool to like something like that. I just think its a lot of effort to learn this 'art' and the end results are a bit rubbish. Even here, where the shows were wowwing everyone in sight, I felt a bit let down and bored within a minute. I DID like taking photos of them though. This is my personal favourite.



So yeah, the place is awash with a million firedancers - some are like 5 years old and throw their flaming bats around like they've been doing it for years (they probably have - child labour enforcers are nowhere to be seen over these ways) to the angst of Rage Against the Machine. The older ones don't get as much applause (age discrimination is anything but subtle over here) despite the shows being just as energetic. and rubbish. and its hard to ignore these guys when you see flaming balls being lobbed into the air while you're eating your dinner, or the fear-filled gasps of the crowd when a flaming pole flies from its owners hands near to the feet of the crowd by accident and people start edging away. Some even pack up and leave, taking a final snap of the butter-fingered offender as they trapse reluctantly away.



We're off tomorrow on a boat trip around the island - if you don't know by now that I LIVE for boat trips around islands, then you should be aware that I have this annoying habit of gushing about them afterwards - so its an early-ish night tonight, soaking up the electrical thunderstorm that raises the hairs on Sam's legs and keeps me awake for hours after I've actually gone to bed. I'm kinda enamoured with Ko Phi Phi. Perhaps because Dan and Sarah are here? Perhaps because its so different (in the most touristy of ways) to the rest of our trip so far? Perhaps just because it really does have a magnetic, dazzling hold on you? I dunno. I like it a lot though.

Day 311 - Ko Chang

The last unspoilt corner of Thailand???



Well, that's a statement I'm not actually qualified to make. Since I've only been here 3 days. But hey, on Eves' friend's advice, this island, Ko Chang, is the very last beautiful, isolated, idyllic place left off the coast of the thai mainland. So we're off. The lonley planet (urgh!) threatens this place with a scathing review of its effluent-filled waters and lack of electricity. That's not true. The water's not *crystal* and the electricity doesn't stay on all night, but I loved Ko Chang.



So, after booking on a 10hour night bus and arriving 21hours later in Ko Chang. Now, for those who know Thailand, don't confuse yourself with the 'well-known' Ko Chang in the Gulf of Thailand. No. This is Ko Chang, Andaman Coast island and barely known by anyone except its own locals and handful of tourists. After a hour waiting for it to arrive, we find ourselves on a tiny boat, carrying 10 backpackers and 10 locals, and about 10 tonnes of food/drink/ice for the 10 hotels on the island. We have no idea where to go (we're like this - unprepared for EVERYTHING), so we get off the boat at the same place as some german backpackers. And its amazing.



Wooden shack bungalows litter the rugged coastline, with waters lapping the bottom of the hut stilts and rushing over the rocks gently. People sit on their little wooden balconies staring out to the sea, which is warm and inviting and has the tinies limestone outcrops dotted on the horizon. We jump off onto a small pier and check into a small bungalow with just 2 double beds - enough for the 4 of us on a budget.



And that's pretty much all there is to say about Ko Chang. For the next 48 hours until the same little boat picked us up, we did nothing but relax. We played cards until the lights went out at 11pm. We watched DVDs on Tom's laptop. We ate Pad Thai and Chicken with Cashew Nuts until we were sick of the spices. We dived in the warm and deep high-tide waters and ate breakfast on a table half-submerged in the gentle lapping of the tide.





My favourite moment was going for a wander along the deserted shores to the local convenience store (a shack with 3 shelves of bathroom products and some crisp packets with just 6 crisps in them). It was so sparce in there I felt obliged to buy a bar of soap out of pity for the shop owner. And on my return journey home along the beach, I was befriended this beautiful little dog (who I named Mustafa) who decided to follow me home. Something I was against in the slightest. For the first 10 minutes. A little later, it got annoying. Then some other dogs started on Mustafa, who couldn't defend himself and was getting bitten, but stayed at my side as I kicked back the other dogs. Eventually I had to pick him up, carry him past the howling hounds, and after dropping him near my hostel, he leapt and bound around like he was happy to have found a new home. He spent the next night and day sleeping in our cabin and pissing Eve off by pissing on the floor (wooden slat floorboards, soaked stright through).



This island isn't 'stunning'. Its not like some of the islands I've been to in Brazil, or Australia or even like Vietnam. Its no where near the quality so many peolpe would expect from an island paradise. The colours are muted (at times). The water is kinda murky and, depending on the tide, filthy. And there's jellyfish. Its flawed. BUT, it does the trick. Better than that. Its magical. It has this hypnotic appeal. We sat and watched a sunset. For hours. Transfixed. I don't care for sunsets, but this one was different. Not because of the rich colours. Not because of the breaking cloud shaping the sunset like a sculpter's wheel. No. It was the silence. It was the meditative peace of this island that drove us onto our balconies, legs dangling towards the ground and minds empty of distraction. It definately got something special going on here. Maybe not special enough to turn it into the next 'Ko Pha Ngan', but then, perhaps that whole point. I don't know.



Anyway, 2 days of blissful relaxation later, and a whole night of alcohol abuse at the bar talking to stoned germans, 7-times-visited brits and a weird belgian guy who ranted on incessantly about german techno parties, we decided to pack up and move on. Its getting more tiring everytime I have to repack my bags these days, but its a small price to pay for the pleasure of travelling. And as the 11am boat comes into dock at the end of some slippery rocks only visible at low tide, we're all clambering over them (with our backpacks, handbags and hangovers), attempting to get from the beach to the boat in flip-flops and with our pride in tact. Eve lost the fight, stacking it onto her arse almost at the final hurdle, but before long we were on the boat, heading back to the mainland, and onwards towards Kratie - launchpad to the revered Ko Phi Phi.

Day 306 - Bangkok & the Ping Pong Show

Pussy ping pong...



Bangkok STINKS. In fact, Thailand stinks. This is a fact. Its a confirmed fact. It stinks. Sometimes of toilets. Sometimes of bins. Sometimes of wet dogs. And its almost always rank. Has it put me off Bangkok? No way.

OK, so we're booked on an amazing air-conditioned, reclining chair bus to go to the Thai border. Its 5 hours away. We get up at 7am. Tired. Grumpy. I've got a hangover from hell after going out with Tom last night and drinking too much beer. And our bus arrives. Right - visualise this. Its a minibus. Its tiny. There's already 10 people in the 12 seater bus. Plus all their backpacks. The driver crams us on, some in the aisle on makeshift fold-out chairs. We pick up some more people and then head off. No air con. No reclining chairs. 5 hours of hell. And then we find out that the road to the border is UNPAVED. That's right - its a dirt-track. And not just any dirt track. Its the most hideous road you've ever driven on. IT WAS HELL. We stopped twice for food. We all swore at how painful our butts were. We're all miserable. But 5 hours later, we're at the border. stamped out of Cambodia and stamped into Thailand. And it is from this very point that the rotten smells of thailand begun.



And its from this very point that things change dramatically. Thailand is considerably more developed than Cambodia. First up - the buses are amazing. No more minibus after the border. we swap into a double-decker, super deluxe, air conned and freezing cold mega-bus. The roads are paved. and street lit. Houses are on concrete, not on stilts. The people wear clothes, not pyjamas. Everything is significantly first-world. Its nice, although suitably uncharming.

Any 4 hours later we're arriving in Bangkok. I'm excited. Bangkok, in my head, is a city of dingy alleyways. dark and imposing. seedy. I had this perfect picture of it. And driving in destroyed it all. Bangkok looks a lot like any other major city. Huge skyscrapers, sprawling motorways, neon and billboards. There's pictures of the King EVERYWHERE. Sometimes they're the size of 10-storey buildings. Sometimes just framed photos in shop windows. But they're everywhere. And the thai flag flies outside every house, shop and streetlight all the way through the country.



We're dropped off at the top of the famous Koh San Road. Again - mental picture destroyed. Its one huge pedestrianised street flaunting market stalls, thunderous bars, street sellers selling fried crickets and noodles, our first McDonalds since China, and more shitty run-down hostels than you could ever care to trawl through. Its late and after seeing 6 rooms we settle for an expensive and hideously basic set of rooms. Rooms here are RANK. The matresses are too hard. the rooms too small. They take a massive room and divide into 5 with plywood divides that don't even reach the ceiling. Its rank. We opted out of sharing a snorefest and chose a walled room, without windows and with aircon. And its like a really not nice sauna.

Anyway, settled in and unpacked, we spend the evening wandering the streets, eating a Burger King (sick - thai food is so nice and we had a BK instead) and checked out the busy backpackers district. There's a shed load of beautiful people here - all western tourists. It seems good looking people don't go backpacking in SE Asia as much as they go backpacking round thailand. That aside, its got a nice vibe here. hectic and messy, but nice.



We did NOTHING in bangkok. There's so much to do and so much stuff to explore, and we barely did any of it. We didn't go to the palace - we walked around it. We reluctantly went and saw this massive buddha (its actually MASSIVE), reclining as he's about to be whisked off to enlightenment (i like the sound of that) and reluctantly took some crappy photos.





We barely touched china town. We didn't go to the red light district. We didn't go to any temples. We didn't go to any nightclubs. But we DID go to a Ping Pong Show. Yes guys - I now know what it looks like to stare up the barrel of a "gun" about to fire a piece of banana at your head. As night fell, Tom, Sam, Eve and I jumped in a cab and on the request of "ping pong" we're driven 20 minutes away, dropped outside a very seedy looking old warehouse, and invited in by a thai woman who looks amazingly like my Mum (sorry mooms).



Stripped of our cameras, I have no photos. Which is a crime, because it was pretty photogenic (i stole the one below from the internet). Guided upstairs, the place is about the size of two school classrooms. i.e. tiny. A small stage about 8ft square has an unimpressed girl in a miniskirt (just a miniskirt) dancing on the spot to an audience of 30 men (mainly indians) sat passively on two rows of leather seats circling the stage. I'm excited. I love naked people. So yeah, we sit down, grab our beer, and out comes a girl with a nothing on. Tom's got a serious face on (he's a bit of a sexpest so he's in his element here), and sam, eve and I are giggling like kids.



So, out she comes. naked girl. Takes centre stage. Lights dim. blacklight up. she reaches down there, grabbing something and out she pulls some neon-glowing ribbon. I love it. Its so funny. I'm laughing. She's pulling out this ribbon. 1ft. 2ft. 3ft. It changes colour. 4ft. 5ft. 6ft. Colour change again. I'm still laughing. And she keeps going. 10ft. 15ft. 20ft. More colours. she's got a shed load of ribbon sprawling out of her hands. 25ft. 30ft. she whinces (pain?) as the last bit pings out of her clearly oversized vagina and I burst into applause. There's little other encouragement for such talent, but I led the way. Tom kinda liked the whole thing too much, but that's understandable I guess.

Anyway, settling in to it, we watch as girl after girl comes out and show's us what they've learnt while bunking off from school. Next up we've got high-heeled naked girl. she comes out with her modesty covered with some lacy pants, but a quick dim of the lights and she whips them down and starts carefully moving her hips so that a string of RAZOR BLADES slide out of her. Sick. Although she was stood up, so you can't see much going on.

Then there's cheeky naked girl, who throws me a smile and wink as she bounds on stage with a birthday cake and a tube. She lights the candles. she inserts the tube between her legs. then blows them out one by one. Sick.

Then miserable naked girl. she slowly lubes up 3 ping pong balls, never breaking her miserable pout, and one by one pops them out into a glass with near-perfect aim. that was rubbish. I expected ping pong balls pinging off the walls, not dropping vertically into a cup. rubbish.

Equally exciting naked girls proceeded to demonstrate the firing of darts from between their legs and bursting balloons (I loved this one - especially as Tom got to hold the balloons!). One girl removed a whole hawaiian garland of flowers from inside her unfeasibly oversized chute, and another transfered the contents of one bottle of coke into another bottle. That was kinda gross though, and involved some serious bottle penetration, which I found mildly distasteful.

And then came the best bit. Right, so old woman naked girl comes out in NOTHING but some black heels, peels a banana and breaks it into 3 bits. She then lies on her back and fires the pieces of banana from between her legs to 2 metres in the air, then catches it. Its amazing. Real hip action. And then cheeky girl who threw me a smile tells banana woman to fire a piece of banana at me. I'm mortified. Cheeky's laughing, bananawoman is questioning me for an approval, and I'm pointing at Tom saying "DO IT TO HIM". She's not having any of it, so I bow my head to conceal my face and with a quick hip thrust she fires the banana at me from 4 metres away and it hits me square on the top of the head. The crowd roars. cheeky is wetting herself. I have banana in my hair. And to top it off - old woman naked girl comes and sits on my lap and asks for a tip. I told her where to go.

A few more tricks later - smoking cigarettes down there, opening beer bottles (which is AMAZING I will add) - and one naked girl comes down to the crowd to gather some names. We jump on her. we've heard about this. I'm desperate to get Freddy a souvenir, so I say I'm called Freddy. Sam, Eve and Tom all hand in their names. Naked girl passes it to cigarette smoking naked girl on the stage, who then lays out some A3 paper, gets down into a squat, and inserts a marker pen between her legs. With them spread open and just a marker pen and a brazilian between her and the paper, she starts to write. "Welcome to Bangkok Tom". "Have a good time Eve". "Thank you Samantha". And this...


[check out the beauty of the letter G]

*THIS* I love. Anyway, we're all laughing. We pay up a tip for our presents and get ready to leave. Not before one last show. Out comes tiny unimpressed naked girl and muscle-boy naked man with a semi-erect penis. We didn't know about this part of the show. We weren't prepared for this one. Lights dim, but enough that you can see everything. Some peaceful chinese music comes on, and naked girl lies down on her back. Naked guy fluffs up a little, tugs on a condom, and starts the dance. Its car-crash material. I can't turn away, but its grim viewing. We're all transfixed. What happens next is hideous. Its a perfectly coreographed display of some 100 classic sex positions. He'd do 3 little thursts inside the girl, then the two will move to the next position. 3 more, move again. And so one for 3 minutes. Every movement is slick and fast and perfectly rehersed. One minutes she's on her back, next she's on her knees, next he's throwing her legs over his shoulders, next he's got his back against a wall. Its bizarre. I never anticipated it. And its all on display - every grim detail. Its finale is spectacular - he grabs two bars on the ceiling, pulls himself up in the air. she does the same, and they do the 3 thrusts in mid-air. The crowd goes wild. I'm open-mouthed. They get down and then the most uncomfortable moment - he gets mildly aggresive and starts thrusting the hell out of her before an untimely finish and quick withdrawal. He looks sheepish. I don't even think he had a hard-on towards the end.

Anyway, that over, we stay - shocked - for a couple more repeat tricks. Tom gets more involved this time, tugging garlands out, holding balloons, holding candles, flirting with the prostitutes (they are - we asked - he asked). And soon we're leaving the venue, stirring between shock and amusement. Its a must-see in bangkok. But I could have happily lived my life without seeing the sex show.



The rest of our stay in Bangkok was a little less exciting i'm afraid to say. We're all kinda hungover the next day and spend it doing absolutely nothing. Wandering the streets. Browsing the hideous traveller-style shell jewellery and friendship bracelets. Looking through masses of tie-dyed t-shirts, fisherman pants (if you don't know already, don't ask), tacky brand-rip-off t-shirts (the worse being a girl listening to her iPod on the toilet, with the caption "iPood" - rank). You name it, they sell it. Snide DVDs, flags of the world patches, North Face backpacks and photocopies of the Sun newspaper from yesterday.



Sunday was a little, although not much, more productive. There's a weekend market in Bangkok, so we get up, get in a cab and spend the next 45 minutes fearing for our lives as our mental cab driver shoots us across the city via every back alley and market street you can imagine. Sam's screaming in the back. Tom's loving it. I'm in the front and kinda uncomfortable. But its all ok. we arrive safe. we don't tip. we don't ask him to wait for us.



And we're faced with possibly the biggest market I've ever been to. Its massive. Its probably about the size of wembly stadium or something. We arrive, wander around in the blazing heat, getting stressed and losing each other, and soon enough I've spent 2 hours joyously collecting new t-shirts and empty sprite cans.



And the day was completed with the wonderful and much anticipated appearance of DARREN. Now, I love darren. I've only known him for about a year and half (a year of that being away travelling) but he's a good mate and he's pretty special to be around. anyway, it's just dinner for now, and after catching up on the news from back home (Talia - i know what you've been up to now...), we said goodbye and arranged to meet further south for some more fun before he heads home and I head to India.



And 24 lazy hours later i'm waiting in line to board a bus to Ko Chang (andaman coast, not gulf coast) - a reported island paradise that the lonely planet doesn't even mention. Finger's crossed it'll be as amazing as we hope - but it probably won't. These things are way too hard to find in thailand.

Day 303 - Angkor Wat

Angkor wat is pretty spectacular. Right - i have to say that. No choice in the matter. It is. Its big and grand and amazing and everyone knows that. It sprawls itself over what feels like half of cambodia. Almost as many people visit this place as actually live in cambodia. Its a beast when it comes to international top tourist attractions. I'm not disagreeing. BUT (and here it comes)... it was a little bit rubbish.

OK, so from the start. Cambodia is small - so everything is between 2 and 8 hours away from each other. So its no trouble crossing the country. That is when your bus driver remembers to stop the bus so that you can get off and change buses. Ours didn't. After 5 evil hours (it should have been 3), we're dumped at the side of a road and told to get on the next bus to Siem Reap. Which we do. That then takes another 6 hours (it should have been 3 more). It was an horrific journey. Horrific. But we made it.

'Tuk-tuk'ed to our hotel on the advice of two girls who were also stranded on our runaway bus, then we check in and settle down to some Star Movies and pizza. We're in Siem Reap, access town to Angkor Wat, and its beaming with neon. Its not cambodia we're in now. Siem Reap is in fact its own hybrid country. Its got ATMs (which you NEVER see in Cambodia). Its got paved streets (shock!). Its got 24hour street lighting. Its even got traffic lights, pavements, and fast internet. This isn't cambodia as we know it. But its a welcome break.



Anyway, onto the main attraction. Everyone in the entire world who has ever been to Angkor Wat will tell you that you need more than 1 day to explore it. Most people reckon 2 is enough (missing some stuff out) and that 3 days is plenty, but necessary. We went for 5 hours. Its kinda rude. I'm a little ashamed. NOBODY goes for less than a day. Let alone half a day. Its just... not very exciting.

Anyway, 3 days spent in the park is not a prerequisite to seeing the sights. We all got up early (10am), suncreamed up (its scorching hot here) and rode the tuk-tuk across town and into the heart of Angkor Wat. Within minutes we're whizzing past the postcard-beautiful main angkor location, through amazing stone-carved archways and breezing across ornate bridges lined with amazing stone statues. No stopping for these meagre sights. Instead we're dropped right at the base of a huge network of temples called 'Angkor Thom'.



The place is so hot its soul-destroying. And you're made to clamber around. The sound of crickets in the trees gets louder and softer at every turn. Crumbling rocks surround the temples. fenced off areas protect near-extinct ruins. tourists occupy every photo-spot, others queueing politely behind. its grey and lifeless except for a splash of colour from a buddhist monk in orange wandering through the ruins (camera concealed beneath their loin-cloths).



The next hour is spent scrambling around the ruins. Right - they're beautiful. They are. This temple has hundreds of massive faces on it, and its SO BEAUTIFUL. But its not magical. Its not overgrown or falling to bits. Its preserved well. Its maintained. Tourists don't climb the rocky outcrops, and the outcrops - in return - don't break anyone's legs. Its all quite civilised and overcrowded and not at all temple-like. That said - despite being a variety of shades of grey against a blue sky - its actually kinda pretty when you don't have a fat american sitting in your professional-photographer's eye view.





So yeah, we scrurry around the sight, camera armed and ready the whole time. Saw some dressed up cambodians...



...saw some more big faces...



...explored some corridors of amazing carved faces...





...and generally sweated so much that I didn't need to pee for hours. It was SO HOT. we spent more time recovering in the shade than bearing the midday sun here. I was soaked. Anyway, onto more temples...



...and more...



...and some more (Tom's such a poser)...



...before finally we arrive at one dusty dirt track, are pointed down it by our driver, and he calls out "TOMB RAIDER... TOMB RAIDER". We're here. In case you didn't know (i did) old Angelina Jolie has trodden these same wooded dirt-tracks herself just a few years ago when filming the first Tomb Raider film. Am I excited? A little. Not because of angelina jolie. No. Because I've seen what lurks down there. and its nice. The other temples are cool - right - but they're not AMAZING. They're just temples. But what is down here - i know - is gonna be good. And it didn't dissappoint.





Minutes later you're thrown into a temple so overgrown that they're still clearing the trees form the sides of the main temple walls. Some temples have trees growing out of the roofs. Others have tree trucks destroying parts of the temple. roots meander through the brickwork like the temple was built around them, but they weren't. this place is shockingly good quality.







Tom and I escape the crowds to do some tomb-raiding ourselves and wander through the trees for a while in search of something more exciting. We fail miserably. It seems the tourists have cottoned on to where the goods are. But before long we're back exploring (along the predefined route) and taking more photos than our memory cards are happy with. Before long we're both out of battery and memory card space and we trudge back to the tuk-tuk for the final leg of the journey.



Angkor Wat itself is this massive main temple - surrounded by an ENORMOUS man-made moat which I think is mental. getting buddhist monks to dig the moat seems so cruel - they're all so weedy and lifeless. But I guess they wanted to protect they're hard-earned labour. Anyway - the main temple is worth a 30 minute wander, and despite inducing vertigo half-way up, I managed to clamber up the steps and see the impressive view over the rest of the temples.



And that was it. 3 day pass for 20 quid - used up in 5 hours. I'm a bit gutted actually. Angkor Wat was actually the only reason I wanted to come to SE Asia. Its not like I'm dissappointed by the rest of it - i like being here. But it was a mild let-down. But then - most people felt let down a little by Machu Picchu - so I guess it all evens out in the end.

So the next 2 days (which should have been spent at the temples) were flaunted around a posh swimming pool and eating cambodia food and watching Brass Eye episodes and dreaming of coming home and doing nothing and having only enough money to buy World of Warcraft and playing it on Angie's PC until I get a job out of necessity and not personal pride.

And once our 3-day passes were suitably expired we packed up out stuff and prepared for the journey to Bangkok - one which no one looks forward to - apparently. great.

Day 301 - Kratie

Dissentry and rubbish dolphins...



Kratie is a funny one. I'm kinda torn on how I feel about it. First glance, you get a cute TINY village, swinging its feet into the cool waters of the mekong river which looks SO NICE from here. Its hot and humid and lush and green. The soils are rusty brown and the locals are the most beautiful rich brown colour. Its so nice. BUT, it was a bit of a let down. Afraid to say it, but I don't have much to say about this place.



So, we arrive, dropped off outside the usual town market the size of a large blockbuster store supplying all the needs of the town. We wander round and buy more kiddy pyjamas (i love these) before spending the night chatting to new canadian friend chuck (thanks for the canada map mate - and solving the Quebec mystery).

And in the morning we're booked on a trip to go and see the famous kratie DOLPHINS! Freshwater, endangered, WWF sponsored, weird egg-head looking dolphins without the cute nose spike thing, very exciting. But first we pay an extra dollar each to go and swim in the mekong. Its so hot here, all I dream about is swimming.



So, we driving through the outback - flat, vegetated, rusty iron-swamped soils, houses on stilts and cute cambodian kids waving as we pass, and before long we're dropped off and pointed towards the river. "you can swim there?". REALLY? really? its the mekong. Its gross. I'm pretty sure I saw a dog vomiting in there the other day, and you want me to swim in it? OK.



So we wander down, pay some piss-taking little girl a dollar to cross a wooden (toll) bridge. and stand at the shore of the mekong, waiting to dive in. Its so gross. we didn't. we walked on to find somewhere cleaner. Not much luck. In the end I crawled into some small rapids (much to the amusement of the locals who were all diving around without fear of swallowing any of the sick-inducing fluids). Anyway, I had a dip - firmly keeping my head above water - then we wandered back to the car, scared of what diseases just crawled up my ass.



And the extra 4 dollars for the swimming was clearly worth it because our driver then drove 30seconds down the road to the dolphin drop-off point. this country knows how to rip its visitors off. so yeah, minutes later we're on a boat swanning across the mekong searching for these amazing dolphins. expecting some dolphin stroking action. expecting some good photos. expecting something wicked.



but it didn't deliver. the bastard dolphins are (a) scared of the boats so are (b) too far away to see and (c) its so hot we can't concentrate on them appearing randomly every 2 minutes for just a brief chug of air, so we lose interest, throw our feet of the side of the boat and dream of swimming in the vile puke that is the mekong.



Its a shame. I mean, it was nice being on a boat (i LOVE boat trips) but the dolphins were rubbish and the whole thing was overpriced. Gutted. And I'm so desperate to swim to rid myself of the evil sweat that is destroying all my clothes, I convince the driver to take us to a swimming spot and jump in regardless of whichever parasites are clawing their way under my flesh.







We're treated to a quick trip to a buddhist monastry, which is nice as well, although there's too many steps. steps everywhere. its like climbing everest. anyway, its kinda cute, although unfinished. some female monk (monkess?) tells me off for taking photos of a mural with naked women being eating out by dogs - she makes me delete the photo but I took another one. check this out...



and then we headed back to the hotel, watched zoolander, and sweated the night away in our un-air-conditioned bedroom. sick. ready for the morning, which would bring an exciting 10-hour journey to Siem Reap, home of Angkor Wat. 10 hours? that's nothing. i can do that in my sleep. in fact - i do do that in my sleep.