After a short and pleasant flight (well, apart from being served up a grey circle of processed meat in a bap) we arrived at Bangkok airport from Koh Samui. We were planning a big night out with my friend Mark, whom I'd worked with in Ibiza 11 years earlier and had not seen in 10 years. As he is currently living in Bangkok he promised to show us the sights. Although some of the sights he showed us I wish we hadn't seen...
The night didn't get off to a great start when we touched down at Bangkok and I switched on my mobile to a text from Mark informing us that there was an election in Bangkok that night, so no bars or shops would be selling alcohol until midnight on Sunday. We were exasperated - I mean why hold an election on a Saturday night? It seemed absurd.
We gathered up all our worldy goods onto our backs and negotiated our way back to the Khao San Rd, where we hunted out suitable budget accommodation. Arriving at the Khao San Palace we discovered that this title was pretty undeserved and the room rate was double what had been advertised ("only deluxe room available Madam"). Eager to get out on the town , we accepted it anyway and hurried upstairs to get ready. "If this is the deluxe suite, I wonder what the basic room is like, " I pondered aloud, scanning the room dubiously. The walls were dirty, there was one holey sheet on the bed and no topsheet and the shower was a feeble shower head positioned above the toilet, despite there being plenty of room for it elsewhere in the bathroom. It was a bit of a jolt after the luxury of the villa in Koh Samui but we tried to readjust ourselves back into penniless traveller mode and carried on...
Changed and ready, we took a taxi to Mark's apartment off the Sukhumvit Rd where he was having a drink with his friends before heading to Patpong. We had heard about the seedy nature of the area but seeing as it was the only district to be serving alcohol during the ban we swallowed our pride and headed out to a show...
Stepping out of the taxi we were greeted with flashing neon signs, go-go bars, begging children and a bustling street market selling everything from counterfeit sunglasses to fake tattoo sleeves (which Louise bought two of later that night.)
Bracing ourselves we allowed ourselves to be ushered into a Ping Pong Show, where the promoter assured us we'd get our first drink for free. Agreeing that we'd just stay long enough to satisfy our curiosity and have one drink we stepped inside.
I was greeted with a pingpong ball whizzing past my head, narrowly missing taking one of my eyes out, as the whole crowd inside turned to follow it's path. Not the calm and controlled entrance I'd been hoping to make but still, at least it hadn't hit me. I shuddered as I contemplated explaining to an STD clinic how I'd managed to get an infection in my EYE. Yuk!
We took our seats, Louise Kirsten and I being the only females in the "establishment" - well, the only ones wearing clothes anyway.And with all our own teeth.
We ordered our drinks and sat back to watch the show, trying to avoid making eye contact with any of the girls on stage. As the club was pretty small this was more difficult than you might think and I found myself averting my gaze as the tiny Thai girls (and a couple of not-so-tiny ones) slithered up and down poles. One of the girls stepped forward and assembled her tools of the trade on the floor in front of her. I was alarmed to see darts and balloons, and before long she was spread-eagled on the floor popping balloons held above various mens' heads with parts of her anatomy that should never come into contact with darts.
And so the show continued - we saw a fat woman playing a French horn (and not with her lips, well not the ones on her face anyway), a girl who picked up plastic hoops with her nether regions and tossed them over empty bottles (I'd don't think that was what Fisher Price had in mind when they designed them), and one who produced miles of streamers from "down there". After half an hour or so we'd seen enough and made a swift exit. We gave a sigh of relief and headed for one of the "normal" bars, although I'm not sure that normal exists in Patpong.
After several more vodka redbulls and tired of being harrassed by streetkids touting their wares (Louise the sucker bought entire bouquets of red roses from the cutest ones) we headed back to Mark's and then on to the hostel, where Kirsten and Louise had just enough time for a shower and a powernap before their earlybird flight back to the UK...
Later that evening Liam and I headed out for dinner on the Khao San Rd, before going back to bed, ready for some sightseeing the next day.
The next morning we set off to arrange our tickets to Cambodia and settled on some bus tickets which would leave at 7.30am the next day,take us to the border at Poipet, wait whilst we arranged our visas into the country, then continue on to Siem Reap, arriving at 6pm that evening. Or that was the plan, but obviously when you take into account Thai Time which I mentioned earlier we knew this was unlikely to be the case.
Happy that we'd decided on a plan of action, we headed out into the streets of Bangkok to take in some sights. As we stood gazing at our Lonely Planet and trying to work out which way the King's Palace was, a little Thai man appeared out of nowhere and began chatting to us. He leaned casually against the railings of the bridge and offered us directions, not seeming to want anything in return. We should have smelled a rather large rat at this point, but allowed him to explain that the King's Palace was closed due to a public holiday, but if we liked he could draw us a map of some other temples which were worth a visit and free for tourists to enter. We studied his map and a tuk-tuk driver who just happened to be nearby took the map and agreed to take us to each of the temples for only 20 baht. Seeing as 20 baht is about 40 pence we thought he had made a mistake but he assured us that this was correct. I know that saying "if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is" but we pushed our cynicism aside and jumped into the tuk-tuk.
For the first part of the afternoon he kept to his side of the bargain, dutifully taking us to a huge standing Buddha made from gold, then to a temple where people with ragged clothes and lacking teeth spent their last baht on tiny slivers of gold leaf which they took it in turns to solemnly rub onto various religious statues.
The next 2 temples he took us to were closed and he appeared to be getting a little impatient. The final port of call on our little jaunt was a gem factory.Hmmm.. Finally, the penny dropped. We were expected to buy grossly overpriced gems in gaudy yellow gold with brightly-coloured stones which were probably fakes anyway. The driver begged us to buy something, saying that the factory would give him free gasoline if we did. Having heard first-hand of such scams and knowing people who have fallen for them, only to find their jewellery to be worthless, we made our excuses and attempted to leave.Jumping back into the tuk-tuk, our driver began to drive then thought better of it and dumped us unceremoniously into the street, shouting abuse at us. Oh well, we'd had a free afternoon's sightseeing, hadn't succumbed to their cunning plan and the poor chap hadn't even got his 20 baht, seeing as he had jumped back into his tuk-tuk and sped off into the sunset.I'd been planning to give him a generous tip as well. One point to The Walshes I guess...
By the time the morning came we'd had our fill of hectic Bangkok and were eager to continue to Cambodia. Little did we know just how much Buddhist calm would be required for the epic journey to Siem Reap, home to eighth wonder of the world, the temples of Angkor...
About Me
- Sam and Liam
- We wanted to celebrate our 10 year anniversary with a holiday we'd never forget - we reckon 6 months of travelling the world (from trekking on the Inca Trail and through the Amazon to riding an elephant in Thailand) should just about cover it!
Thursday, 15 January 2009
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Koh Samui
We awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for our ferry to Koh Samui. When I say "we", I mean Liam and I - we had left Louise and Kirsten to work their way through the cocktail menu before stumbling back to their bungalow at sunrise. Needless to say they were feeling a tad worse for wear, not at all looking forward to another ferry crossing like the last, which was akin to being on a spin-cycle in a washing machine.
Fortunately this time we had the benefit of a catamaran, which felt infinitely more sturdy than the previous vessel.The journey passed without any dramas. The girls even managed a little shut-eye, which would've been impossible on the last boat.
We all agreed that Koh Tao had been fantastic and were curious as to whether Koh Samui would impress us equally. First impressions...probably not. Taking a pickup to Chaweng Beach, we were greeted by that Thai delicacy...MacDonalds. The golden arches were accompanied by a Burger King, a Starbucks and a Pizza Hut. We expressed our disdain at seeing all this Westernised gluttony....and then headed straight to Pizza Hut for lunch.
Well, we WERE starving and hadn't eaten breakfast for fear of regurgitating it on the ferry.
We had come to Koh Samui to meet up with our friends Jo and Ross who had booked a luxury 5-star villa called Eden Rock, which was located between Chaweng and Lamai.
Fully recharged on deep pan delights, we took another taxi up to the villa. When I say "up" to the villa, it was a 75 degree angle uphill to the resort, on a clifftop. Impractical to get to, but the altitude of the house made for fantastic views over the Koh Samui coastline.
Welcomed by Jo and Ross, they ushered us inside where we were greeted by what can only be described as a palace, such was the sumptuous luxury of this villa.
The living area was absolutely huge, with a bar, 4-poster bed, piano, chaise-longue, pc, flatscreen tv, sofas and various other pieces of furniture all rattling around and still planty of space for a football pitch or two. Well, maybe not two.
The ceilings were so high that our voices echoed.I could picture Katherine Jenkins belting out a few classical tunes in that vast room, such were the acoustics. French doors opened out onto a balcony overlooking the infinity pool with swim-up bar and breathtaking views.
The rest of the house was just as impressive - 4-posters in all the bedrooms, huge marble sunken baths, walk-in closets, waiters and a chef..this place was seriously impressive. Even a proper diva like Marey Carey wouldn't have been able to stick out her bottom lip and find fault with this place. I kept half-expecting the crew from MTV Cribs to show up and request an interview for the next episode.
After 4 months of backpacking, such luxury brought a tear to my eye. Not having had a bath for ages, I had the taps running and my lotions and potions unpacked before you could say "freeloader", although Jo insisted it was no trouble.
Some other friends of Jo and Ross's were due over that evening so we washed and changed and generally made ourselves at home. Louise draped herself over one of the chaise-longues wearing a chiffon kaftan. She reminded me of a photoshoot I'd seen for OK magazine featuring Nancy De'llolio.When Jo had said there was plenty of space for us all to sleep over we had pictured bodies piled high on sofabeds, not that Liam and I would haver our own honeymoon suite with a bath big enough for 6 to sit in comfortably. We could hardly contain our excitement.
Later, Ross's friends Terry and Dan arrived, along with Fran, Anna and Nicki. The 11 of us got better acquainted whilst the chefs and staff busied themselves preparing a banquet fit for a king.
We all went up to the dining area and tucked into a mouth-watering meal of tiger prawns, red snapper, chicken and various other barbequed delights.
Afterwards we retreated back to the pool area where the evening began to degenerate from sophisticated soiree to drink-fuelled mayhem. Some of the boys explained a drinking game called Circle of Death whereby playing cards are arranged in a circle face down and each person takes turns to turn one over. Each card has a rule, action, or word game attached, with drinking penalties for failure to complete your task. After 2 games (and plenty of vodka, whisky and beer) the rules were being forgotten and it was all getting too confusing, so we did what any group of Brits abroad would do...we all jumped in the pool and messed about..
After drinking,dancing and working our way through the villa's extensive CD collection we decided to call it a night after one more rendition of "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics..oh, and a few plays of "the Reflex-flex-flex-flex...."
The next day we hit the beach at Lamai and indulged in several treatments - a foot-file buffing treatment whereby a Thai women removes about 2 inches of hard skin from your feet then excitedly holds up the shavings for you to see just how gross your feet were before. (I'm only five foot six now, the rest was dead skin..)
Liam and I also had a full Thai massage, where bones you didn't even know you had are cracked noisily by tiny Thai women.The girls all had a pedicure and little flowers painted on their toenails.I opted out of this one - I think my therapist was still traumatised after picking up all the dead skin from my heels..)
That evening we went for a Thai meal in Chaweng, then hit the bars for a few drinks. Unfortunately, the Brits were out in force, beering it up and springing about in an alcohol-fuelled frenzy to dodgy drum-and-bass music. We avoided this area like the plague, except for a bar called Mint, where Brandon Block was spinning old house tunes, with the help of his old mate Ricky Butcher. I told you it was tacky - I kept expecting Bianca to come screeching out from behind the decks at any moment, letting out an ear-piercing "Riickkkkkaaaayyy!!!".
We stuck it out til 4am - by this time I'd had enough of roided-up bodybuilders and bleary-eyed skinheads, no matter how good the music was...
The next day we had just enough time for a cooked breakfast by the pool and a bit of speed-sunbathing before it was time to say a sad goodbye to Ross, Jo and the beautiful villa and head to the airport for our flight back to Bangkok and the evening's entertainment - a ping-pong show in Patpong....
Fortunately this time we had the benefit of a catamaran, which felt infinitely more sturdy than the previous vessel.The journey passed without any dramas. The girls even managed a little shut-eye, which would've been impossible on the last boat.
We all agreed that Koh Tao had been fantastic and were curious as to whether Koh Samui would impress us equally. First impressions...probably not. Taking a pickup to Chaweng Beach, we were greeted by that Thai delicacy...MacDonalds. The golden arches were accompanied by a Burger King, a Starbucks and a Pizza Hut. We expressed our disdain at seeing all this Westernised gluttony....and then headed straight to Pizza Hut for lunch.
Well, we WERE starving and hadn't eaten breakfast for fear of regurgitating it on the ferry.
We had come to Koh Samui to meet up with our friends Jo and Ross who had booked a luxury 5-star villa called Eden Rock, which was located between Chaweng and Lamai.
Fully recharged on deep pan delights, we took another taxi up to the villa. When I say "up" to the villa, it was a 75 degree angle uphill to the resort, on a clifftop. Impractical to get to, but the altitude of the house made for fantastic views over the Koh Samui coastline.
Welcomed by Jo and Ross, they ushered us inside where we were greeted by what can only be described as a palace, such was the sumptuous luxury of this villa.
The living area was absolutely huge, with a bar, 4-poster bed, piano, chaise-longue, pc, flatscreen tv, sofas and various other pieces of furniture all rattling around and still planty of space for a football pitch or two. Well, maybe not two.
The ceilings were so high that our voices echoed.I could picture Katherine Jenkins belting out a few classical tunes in that vast room, such were the acoustics. French doors opened out onto a balcony overlooking the infinity pool with swim-up bar and breathtaking views.
The rest of the house was just as impressive - 4-posters in all the bedrooms, huge marble sunken baths, walk-in closets, waiters and a chef..this place was seriously impressive. Even a proper diva like Marey Carey wouldn't have been able to stick out her bottom lip and find fault with this place. I kept half-expecting the crew from MTV Cribs to show up and request an interview for the next episode.
After 4 months of backpacking, such luxury brought a tear to my eye. Not having had a bath for ages, I had the taps running and my lotions and potions unpacked before you could say "freeloader", although Jo insisted it was no trouble.
Some other friends of Jo and Ross's were due over that evening so we washed and changed and generally made ourselves at home. Louise draped herself over one of the chaise-longues wearing a chiffon kaftan. She reminded me of a photoshoot I'd seen for OK magazine featuring Nancy De'llolio.When Jo had said there was plenty of space for us all to sleep over we had pictured bodies piled high on sofabeds, not that Liam and I would haver our own honeymoon suite with a bath big enough for 6 to sit in comfortably. We could hardly contain our excitement.
Later, Ross's friends Terry and Dan arrived, along with Fran, Anna and Nicki. The 11 of us got better acquainted whilst the chefs and staff busied themselves preparing a banquet fit for a king.
We all went up to the dining area and tucked into a mouth-watering meal of tiger prawns, red snapper, chicken and various other barbequed delights.
Afterwards we retreated back to the pool area where the evening began to degenerate from sophisticated soiree to drink-fuelled mayhem. Some of the boys explained a drinking game called Circle of Death whereby playing cards are arranged in a circle face down and each person takes turns to turn one over. Each card has a rule, action, or word game attached, with drinking penalties for failure to complete your task. After 2 games (and plenty of vodka, whisky and beer) the rules were being forgotten and it was all getting too confusing, so we did what any group of Brits abroad would do...we all jumped in the pool and messed about..
After drinking,dancing and working our way through the villa's extensive CD collection we decided to call it a night after one more rendition of "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics..oh, and a few plays of "the Reflex-flex-flex-flex...."
The next day we hit the beach at Lamai and indulged in several treatments - a foot-file buffing treatment whereby a Thai women removes about 2 inches of hard skin from your feet then excitedly holds up the shavings for you to see just how gross your feet were before. (I'm only five foot six now, the rest was dead skin..)
Liam and I also had a full Thai massage, where bones you didn't even know you had are cracked noisily by tiny Thai women.The girls all had a pedicure and little flowers painted on their toenails.I opted out of this one - I think my therapist was still traumatised after picking up all the dead skin from my heels..)
That evening we went for a Thai meal in Chaweng, then hit the bars for a few drinks. Unfortunately, the Brits were out in force, beering it up and springing about in an alcohol-fuelled frenzy to dodgy drum-and-bass music. We avoided this area like the plague, except for a bar called Mint, where Brandon Block was spinning old house tunes, with the help of his old mate Ricky Butcher. I told you it was tacky - I kept expecting Bianca to come screeching out from behind the decks at any moment, letting out an ear-piercing "Riickkkkkaaaayyy!!!".
We stuck it out til 4am - by this time I'd had enough of roided-up bodybuilders and bleary-eyed skinheads, no matter how good the music was...
The next day we had just enough time for a cooked breakfast by the pool and a bit of speed-sunbathing before it was time to say a sad goodbye to Ross, Jo and the beautiful villa and head to the airport for our flight back to Bangkok and the evening's entertainment - a ping-pong show in Patpong....
Koh Tao
So, we wait at the entrance to our villa complex for our driver who is due to pick us up and take us to the ferry port at Thongsala. And we wait. And we wait. When it becomes clear that the driver (who we stupidly had already paid for our ferry transfers) is not going to show we jump into the nearest pickup and hurry to the port. We needn't have bothered. Let me explain about "Thai time." If time were a person, in England he'd be an uptight businessman. In Thailand, if time were a person he'd be a dope-smoking rasta. There is simply no importance attached to time here. When Thais say the ferry leaves at 8.30am, they really mean that they'll start to think about leaving at around 9.15am, and will probably actually leave at around 9.30am. They would be sacked for tardiness within a week should they take up employment in London, not that they'd want to, obviously.
The ferry finally lurches into action after 9.30am, grossly overcrowded due to the fact that all ferries had been cancelled the previous day because of rough weather conditions. Liam and I just managed to get a seat, squeezed between two Japanese guys,whilst Kirsten and Louise wedged themselves down the other end of the boat. Then the fun began - the ferry took off at an alarming rate, bouncing off the oncoming waves with such force that every window was being soaked with spray. I had wondered how the "express" boat could do the journey in 1 1/2hrs, whilst the regular crossing took 3 hours. Now I knew - by zooming along, listing dangerously from side to side and with the front of the boat going up at 90 degree angles when it hit particularly large waves. Within minutes everyone on the boat had turned an unflattering shade of green, even several Thais. Children were throwing up their breakfast into carrier bags that their mothers had thoughtfully remembered to keep handy. Looking out of the window I saw sea, sky, sea, sky... and decided closing my eyes would be the best option.
A white-knuckle ride is not what you need first thing in the morning and by the time we reached Koh Tao we were all seriously fearing for our lives, even a group of tough-looking German guys looked terrifed. (Since that ferry ride Liam heard on the local news that a similar ferry had capsized in Indonesia, killing all 240 passengers).
I don't know if it was just that we were grateful to see dry land, but our first impressions of Koh Tao were all good - white sandy beaches, blue skies and neat little bungalows. We took a pickup to Sai Ree Beach,the area of Koh Tao famous for diving schools, and began our search for accommodation. It was very busy, being peak season, but we managed to find a couple of bungalows right next to the beach for 800 baht per person per night (16 pounds each, which wasn't as cheap as we'd hoped).
Koh Tao was beautiful and we quickly settled into a blissful routine of breakfast, sunbathe, lunch, sunbathe, dinner, cocktails and bed.
To our relief the sun shone brightly and the sea was warm and inviting. Finally we were able to work on our tans after the clouds of Koh Phangnan...
Days were spent lazing on the beach and meeting the various stray dogs on the island (by the end of our stay they all had names and different personalities) and by night we would go for a meal at one of the beachfront restaurants.This would be followed by cocktails at one of the many bars, our favourite being Lotus, which was a chilled-out bar on the beach with a DJ and some flame-throwers entertaining the crowd who reclined on embroidered cushions on the sand.
One evening we went to a party at The Castle, an open-aired club with all different areas and pumping house music. After several buckets (plastic bucket containing a gallon of Vodka, Red Bull and sometimes Sansong whisky) we were up for continuing the party so took a pickup back to Sai Ree Beach and joined the throng of people at Bann's, a plush resort and diving school near our bungalows.
Desperate to make the most of the sunshine we got up relatively early the next morning, despite having gone to bed after 5am. A full English breakfast soon sorted us out and we soaked up the rays whilst all the grease from our brekkie soaked up the alcohol.
That evening we enjoyed one last Thai meal, had a few caipirinhas and left Kirsten and Louise to continue partying whilst Liam and I took the lightweight option and went to bed, ready for our ferry to take us to Koh Samui bright and early the next morning. If it was anything like the last one, we'd need a clear head and a strong stomach for the journey...
The ferry finally lurches into action after 9.30am, grossly overcrowded due to the fact that all ferries had been cancelled the previous day because of rough weather conditions. Liam and I just managed to get a seat, squeezed between two Japanese guys,whilst Kirsten and Louise wedged themselves down the other end of the boat. Then the fun began - the ferry took off at an alarming rate, bouncing off the oncoming waves with such force that every window was being soaked with spray. I had wondered how the "express" boat could do the journey in 1 1/2hrs, whilst the regular crossing took 3 hours. Now I knew - by zooming along, listing dangerously from side to side and with the front of the boat going up at 90 degree angles when it hit particularly large waves. Within minutes everyone on the boat had turned an unflattering shade of green, even several Thais. Children were throwing up their breakfast into carrier bags that their mothers had thoughtfully remembered to keep handy. Looking out of the window I saw sea, sky, sea, sky... and decided closing my eyes would be the best option.
A white-knuckle ride is not what you need first thing in the morning and by the time we reached Koh Tao we were all seriously fearing for our lives, even a group of tough-looking German guys looked terrifed. (Since that ferry ride Liam heard on the local news that a similar ferry had capsized in Indonesia, killing all 240 passengers).
I don't know if it was just that we were grateful to see dry land, but our first impressions of Koh Tao were all good - white sandy beaches, blue skies and neat little bungalows. We took a pickup to Sai Ree Beach,the area of Koh Tao famous for diving schools, and began our search for accommodation. It was very busy, being peak season, but we managed to find a couple of bungalows right next to the beach for 800 baht per person per night (16 pounds each, which wasn't as cheap as we'd hoped).
Koh Tao was beautiful and we quickly settled into a blissful routine of breakfast, sunbathe, lunch, sunbathe, dinner, cocktails and bed.
To our relief the sun shone brightly and the sea was warm and inviting. Finally we were able to work on our tans after the clouds of Koh Phangnan...
Days were spent lazing on the beach and meeting the various stray dogs on the island (by the end of our stay they all had names and different personalities) and by night we would go for a meal at one of the beachfront restaurants.This would be followed by cocktails at one of the many bars, our favourite being Lotus, which was a chilled-out bar on the beach with a DJ and some flame-throwers entertaining the crowd who reclined on embroidered cushions on the sand.
One evening we went to a party at The Castle, an open-aired club with all different areas and pumping house music. After several buckets (plastic bucket containing a gallon of Vodka, Red Bull and sometimes Sansong whisky) we were up for continuing the party so took a pickup back to Sai Ree Beach and joined the throng of people at Bann's, a plush resort and diving school near our bungalows.
Desperate to make the most of the sunshine we got up relatively early the next morning, despite having gone to bed after 5am. A full English breakfast soon sorted us out and we soaked up the rays whilst all the grease from our brekkie soaked up the alcohol.
That evening we enjoyed one last Thai meal, had a few caipirinhas and left Kirsten and Louise to continue partying whilst Liam and I took the lightweight option and went to bed, ready for our ferry to take us to Koh Samui bright and early the next morning. If it was anything like the last one, we'd need a clear head and a strong stomach for the journey...
Monday, 12 January 2009
Koh Phangan cont..
To our dismay the weather didn't improve, so we decided to rent a pick-up and drive around the island. We'd been warned about the state of the roads and how treacherous they could be, so Liam was the designated driver. I'm not saying women drivers aren't the best, but Liam took charge of the situation and us girlies were more than happy to let him. You can rent a pick-up for the equivalent of around 16 pounds per day, which was hardly anything between the 5 of us - me, Liam, Kirsten, Louise and Hannah (who we'd befriended on the train journey from Bangkok). It was my job to navigate.Hannah sat up front with Liam and I,whilst Kirsten and Louise looked cool (literally, it wasn't sunny remember) sitting in the back with their hair whipping in the wind.
We hadn't realised just how small the island was, and had travelled from Thongsala in the south east to the far north in about half an hour, taking in lush countryside covered in densely-packed palms, waterfalls and small townships. We stopped at an elaborately-decorated temple with brightly coloured ornate windows surrounded by tiny pieces of mirrored glass which made for a breathtaking sight. A few Buddhist monks dressed in the traditional orange robes and with shaven heads watched us disinterestedly as we circled the temple taking photographs, although we didn't try to enter as we were not dressed appropriately - shoulders and legs must be covered and we were wearing shorts and vest tops. We also saw elephants up in the hills, patiently waiting to pick up tourists and take them trekking. We decided against this at this stage as we have already planned to do jungle and elephant trekking when we go to Northern Thailand later in our trip.
As darkness drew in we decided to return to our villa since the roads are bad enough in daylight...
Back at the villa we showered and changed and took a pick-up to our entertainment for the evening..a Thai Kick-Boxing event. As we arrived at the outdoor stadium we could hear the beat of the music and noise of the crowd, who were drinking Chang and talking animatedly whilst awaiting the start of first match. Snake-charmer music was played to announce the start of the match and 2 Thai men climbed up into the ring, one dressed in red silk shorts, the other in blue. In Thai boxing pretty much anything is fair game - kicking, punching, pushing and slapping. Of course, it may be a bit more technical than this, but to my untrained eye this is what it looked like.
We watched a few more fights, the crowd egging on their favourites, sloshing beer about in their excitement and the atmosphere became more and more charged.I thought Louise was really getting into the match, but alas she was only jumping from foot to foot because a huge cockroach had crawled onto her leg.A Thai man casually picked it up and put it in his pocket, before throwing it at his girlfriend. I hope she dumped him for that.
Then came the turn of the English fighter. I'm not sure which weight category he was supposed to be in but he was definitely OVERweight. He looked like Dale Winton wearing a gorilla suit (this guy was HAIRY), only with more fake tan. He was 43, and looked every one of his 43 years, maybe even a couple more. He ddn't do his country proud - we were watching through our fingers, wincing with embarassment as he blundered around the ring, swiping at thin air, stumbling over his own size 11 feet and looking like an elephant fighting a ballerina, such was the grace and size of his opponent. Needless to say, he got his fat ass whipped and limped out of the ring with his mahogany-coloured balding head bowed only a few rounds later. We found it hilarious.
The hilarity was to continue, with an obese American guy taking on 2 Thais who were about the same weight as one of his fleshy arms. He practically knocked them out with just a flick of a moob (man boob in case this expression is new to you) and despite their best efforts were both KO'd in seconds. The rest of the fighters were a bit more evenly matched, which seemed fairer but was infinitely less entertaining. After about 12 fights we decided to call it a night. On the way back we stopped at a classy-looking bar (not!) called Smash Hits Bar(the name says it all) - a tacky establishment with half-naked Thai girls (we think they were girls anyway) gyrating on sticky tables outside. Once we realised that a steady stream of ugly Western men seemed to be coming out of a room at the back of the bar with sleazy grins on their faces we decided to drink elsewhere and headed back to the beach bar next to the villa. Having met some other English people, Liam and Louise coaxed everyone to sit up until 3am to watch the Spurs match. Everyone was pretty merry by the time the bar revealed at 2.59am that their Sky channel was down and that we wouldn't be able to watch the footie after all, much to the Spurs fans' disgust. Oh well, let's just have another cocktail instead then..
The next day we took the pickup to a different part of the island and found a nice restaurant and gorgeous beach. We spent the day chilling (literally, the weather was rubbish again) before dropping the car back in Thongsala.
After 5 days of overcast weather we'd had our fill of Koh Phangan and decided to go to a different island in the hope that the sun would be shining. We'd heard that Koh Tao was only an hour away by ferry and that the weather there was better.
The following morning, having bought our ferry tickets to Koh Tao, we awoke to brilliant sunshine.This was mildly annoying as we'd waited patiently for the sun, only for it to come out with a vengeance just as we were leaving, completely altering the look of the beach.Whereas the beach had looked a bit grey before, now the hammocks swayed gently, the sea looked bright blue and the whole beach was bathed in a gentle orange glow.
Let's hope the weather is just as good in Koh Tao...
We hadn't realised just how small the island was, and had travelled from Thongsala in the south east to the far north in about half an hour, taking in lush countryside covered in densely-packed palms, waterfalls and small townships. We stopped at an elaborately-decorated temple with brightly coloured ornate windows surrounded by tiny pieces of mirrored glass which made for a breathtaking sight. A few Buddhist monks dressed in the traditional orange robes and with shaven heads watched us disinterestedly as we circled the temple taking photographs, although we didn't try to enter as we were not dressed appropriately - shoulders and legs must be covered and we were wearing shorts and vest tops. We also saw elephants up in the hills, patiently waiting to pick up tourists and take them trekking. We decided against this at this stage as we have already planned to do jungle and elephant trekking when we go to Northern Thailand later in our trip.
As darkness drew in we decided to return to our villa since the roads are bad enough in daylight...
Back at the villa we showered and changed and took a pick-up to our entertainment for the evening..a Thai Kick-Boxing event. As we arrived at the outdoor stadium we could hear the beat of the music and noise of the crowd, who were drinking Chang and talking animatedly whilst awaiting the start of first match. Snake-charmer music was played to announce the start of the match and 2 Thai men climbed up into the ring, one dressed in red silk shorts, the other in blue. In Thai boxing pretty much anything is fair game - kicking, punching, pushing and slapping. Of course, it may be a bit more technical than this, but to my untrained eye this is what it looked like.
We watched a few more fights, the crowd egging on their favourites, sloshing beer about in their excitement and the atmosphere became more and more charged.I thought Louise was really getting into the match, but alas she was only jumping from foot to foot because a huge cockroach had crawled onto her leg.A Thai man casually picked it up and put it in his pocket, before throwing it at his girlfriend. I hope she dumped him for that.
Then came the turn of the English fighter. I'm not sure which weight category he was supposed to be in but he was definitely OVERweight. He looked like Dale Winton wearing a gorilla suit (this guy was HAIRY), only with more fake tan. He was 43, and looked every one of his 43 years, maybe even a couple more. He ddn't do his country proud - we were watching through our fingers, wincing with embarassment as he blundered around the ring, swiping at thin air, stumbling over his own size 11 feet and looking like an elephant fighting a ballerina, such was the grace and size of his opponent. Needless to say, he got his fat ass whipped and limped out of the ring with his mahogany-coloured balding head bowed only a few rounds later. We found it hilarious.
The hilarity was to continue, with an obese American guy taking on 2 Thais who were about the same weight as one of his fleshy arms. He practically knocked them out with just a flick of a moob (man boob in case this expression is new to you) and despite their best efforts were both KO'd in seconds. The rest of the fighters were a bit more evenly matched, which seemed fairer but was infinitely less entertaining. After about 12 fights we decided to call it a night. On the way back we stopped at a classy-looking bar (not!) called Smash Hits Bar(the name says it all) - a tacky establishment with half-naked Thai girls (we think they were girls anyway) gyrating on sticky tables outside. Once we realised that a steady stream of ugly Western men seemed to be coming out of a room at the back of the bar with sleazy grins on their faces we decided to drink elsewhere and headed back to the beach bar next to the villa. Having met some other English people, Liam and Louise coaxed everyone to sit up until 3am to watch the Spurs match. Everyone was pretty merry by the time the bar revealed at 2.59am that their Sky channel was down and that we wouldn't be able to watch the footie after all, much to the Spurs fans' disgust. Oh well, let's just have another cocktail instead then..
The next day we took the pickup to a different part of the island and found a nice restaurant and gorgeous beach. We spent the day chilling (literally, the weather was rubbish again) before dropping the car back in Thongsala.
After 5 days of overcast weather we'd had our fill of Koh Phangan and decided to go to a different island in the hope that the sun would be shining. We'd heard that Koh Tao was only an hour away by ferry and that the weather there was better.
The following morning, having bought our ferry tickets to Koh Tao, we awoke to brilliant sunshine.This was mildly annoying as we'd waited patiently for the sun, only for it to come out with a vengeance just as we were leaving, completely altering the look of the beach.Whereas the beach had looked a bit grey before, now the hammocks swayed gently, the sea looked bright blue and the whole beach was bathed in a gentle orange glow.
Let's hope the weather is just as good in Koh Tao...
Monday, 5 January 2009
Koh Phangan and the Full Moon Party
The next morning was New Year's Eve and to our horror we awoke to grey skies and torrential rain.
The first thing we did was find an internet cafe and book our onward flights from Koh Samui back to Bangkok, such was our desire to avoid another journey like the one we'd endured the previous day.
The weather failed to improve as the day went on and our image of New Years Eve spent partying on the beach under the stars was replaced with images of us stomping about in the rain with mascara-streaked faces, frizzy hair and flip-flops sinking into wet sand.
As we were getting ready we applied industrial-strength make-up and even put our shower caps in our pockets in an attempt to ward off the inevitable bad hair moments later on.
We piled into the back of a pick-up truck and set off for Haad Rin beach in the south of the island, over a series of treacherous hills and pot-holes in the badly-maintained roads. We knew by the buzz that we'd arrived, as hundreds of revellers thronged the streets clutching their "buckets". Buckets are plastic buckets (duh) filled with a whole bottle of Samsung whisky, vodka and redbull. Two of these and you can forget the rest of the night.Literally. Wisely, we declined the offer of buckets from all angles on the stalls in the street and headed to a restaurant for some dinner.
Having lined our stomachs with suitably stodgy fodder, we headed down to the beach for the main event, the Full Moon Party. These parties have been running since the Eighties when a party was thrown on the beach to celebrate someone's birthday. It was so successful that they have continued regularly ever since, and have now been accompanied by the Half Moon Party and the Black Moon Party. Basically, any excuse for a party.
As we approached the beach along with several thousand other holidaymakers and travellers, most of whom were either English or Australian, the pumping bass of the music got louder and louder, and the average age of the partygoers got younger and younger.
Down on the beach the party was in full swing, with buckets being sloshed about, people dancing maniacally on every available surface.Several beats from various different soundsystems clashed as the many beach bars vyed for people's attention.
We stocked up on vodka redbulls from one of the many bars on the beach and wandered up and down the beach checking out the music and the crowd.
We found a bar at the end of the beach called Magic Mountain which suited our musical tastes the best and started partying in earnest. When the clock struck midnight fireworks were set off all along ther beach, fire dancers gyrated and skipped over a flame-covered rope and everyone kissed each other Happy New Year. House and techno music blasted from the sound sytems and people danced or sat around chatting on mats scattered around on the balconies in the bar.
Already some people were worse for wear, bodies littered the beach and people were jumping around fully-clothed in the sea. A couple of civilian caners were slogging it out in the unattended Thai Boxing ring, much to the amusement of the onlookers.They weren't so much punch drunk, as just drunk.The atmosphere was fun, laced with an edge of danger. With 30,000+ people on the beach, most of whom had had a skinful, it was inevitable that there would be a few casualties and we heard that already this year there had been several fatal motorcycle accidents, drownings and falls from balconies as a result of the Full Moon parties. Early-ish into the party, one guy fell from the balcony at the bar where we were dancing and seriously hurt himself, the bone sticking awkwardly out of his leg and his big toe missing. There were 2 such accidents that night, which was hardly surprising given the rate at which people were knocking back the buckets.
Liam, Louise and I stayed until 6.30am, leaving Kirsten and Hannah (who we'd met on the train from Bangkok, along with her friend James) to carry on at the afterparty.
As we made our way down the beach to get a taxi home we had to climb over the many bodies strewn along the beach in various states - most of them were still clutching a half-drunk bucket and several were being sniffed by the many curious stray dogs roaming the beach. Surveying the fallout, it looked like a scene of devastation one might expect following a major natural disaster, not a New Year' Eve party.
Obviously we couldn't resist taking a few snaps of the many corpses, Louise spooning one young lad who was covered in drink and sand. Sounds sick? Wait till you see the pics...hilarious. Unfortunately the flash going off woke up some of our victims - they opened one eye sleepily and looked more than a little shocked to see 3 30-somethings standing over them, cracking up and taking pics of their sorry state.
The sun was now up and we looked around at the carnage surrounding us...people sat looking misty-eyed out to sea, where battered blokes stood relieving themselves. Some of the hardcore posse were still raving as if their lives depended on it, some people were asleep on the huge speakers of the soundsystem, vibrating as they snored away in a drunken stupor. Some were stumbling down the beach desperately trying to remember what the name of their guesthouse was..or maybe what their name was, for that matter. It looked like a scene from the video to Michael Jackson's Thriller, when all the ghouls are lurching about in that graveyard.
It had been a funny night, we agreed - enjoyable on the one hand, but also a bit sad - how Westerners have come to these stunning shores and turned them into..what? Well, it was all a bit tacky. A bit like Southend or Blackpool, only with a much better view. They'll be selling "Kiss me quick" hats next.Maybe we're just getting old - we had been amongst the oldest at the party after all.
Back at the haven of the villa we slept like babies, grateful that we'd stayed off those buckets and had all made it back safely...
The first thing we did was find an internet cafe and book our onward flights from Koh Samui back to Bangkok, such was our desire to avoid another journey like the one we'd endured the previous day.
The weather failed to improve as the day went on and our image of New Years Eve spent partying on the beach under the stars was replaced with images of us stomping about in the rain with mascara-streaked faces, frizzy hair and flip-flops sinking into wet sand.
As we were getting ready we applied industrial-strength make-up and even put our shower caps in our pockets in an attempt to ward off the inevitable bad hair moments later on.
We piled into the back of a pick-up truck and set off for Haad Rin beach in the south of the island, over a series of treacherous hills and pot-holes in the badly-maintained roads. We knew by the buzz that we'd arrived, as hundreds of revellers thronged the streets clutching their "buckets". Buckets are plastic buckets (duh) filled with a whole bottle of Samsung whisky, vodka and redbull. Two of these and you can forget the rest of the night.Literally. Wisely, we declined the offer of buckets from all angles on the stalls in the street and headed to a restaurant for some dinner.
Having lined our stomachs with suitably stodgy fodder, we headed down to the beach for the main event, the Full Moon Party. These parties have been running since the Eighties when a party was thrown on the beach to celebrate someone's birthday. It was so successful that they have continued regularly ever since, and have now been accompanied by the Half Moon Party and the Black Moon Party. Basically, any excuse for a party.
As we approached the beach along with several thousand other holidaymakers and travellers, most of whom were either English or Australian, the pumping bass of the music got louder and louder, and the average age of the partygoers got younger and younger.
Down on the beach the party was in full swing, with buckets being sloshed about, people dancing maniacally on every available surface.Several beats from various different soundsystems clashed as the many beach bars vyed for people's attention.
We stocked up on vodka redbulls from one of the many bars on the beach and wandered up and down the beach checking out the music and the crowd.
We found a bar at the end of the beach called Magic Mountain which suited our musical tastes the best and started partying in earnest. When the clock struck midnight fireworks were set off all along ther beach, fire dancers gyrated and skipped over a flame-covered rope and everyone kissed each other Happy New Year. House and techno music blasted from the sound sytems and people danced or sat around chatting on mats scattered around on the balconies in the bar.
Already some people were worse for wear, bodies littered the beach and people were jumping around fully-clothed in the sea. A couple of civilian caners were slogging it out in the unattended Thai Boxing ring, much to the amusement of the onlookers.They weren't so much punch drunk, as just drunk.The atmosphere was fun, laced with an edge of danger. With 30,000+ people on the beach, most of whom had had a skinful, it was inevitable that there would be a few casualties and we heard that already this year there had been several fatal motorcycle accidents, drownings and falls from balconies as a result of the Full Moon parties. Early-ish into the party, one guy fell from the balcony at the bar where we were dancing and seriously hurt himself, the bone sticking awkwardly out of his leg and his big toe missing. There were 2 such accidents that night, which was hardly surprising given the rate at which people were knocking back the buckets.
Liam, Louise and I stayed until 6.30am, leaving Kirsten and Hannah (who we'd met on the train from Bangkok, along with her friend James) to carry on at the afterparty.
As we made our way down the beach to get a taxi home we had to climb over the many bodies strewn along the beach in various states - most of them were still clutching a half-drunk bucket and several were being sniffed by the many curious stray dogs roaming the beach. Surveying the fallout, it looked like a scene of devastation one might expect following a major natural disaster, not a New Year' Eve party.
Obviously we couldn't resist taking a few snaps of the many corpses, Louise spooning one young lad who was covered in drink and sand. Sounds sick? Wait till you see the pics...hilarious. Unfortunately the flash going off woke up some of our victims - they opened one eye sleepily and looked more than a little shocked to see 3 30-somethings standing over them, cracking up and taking pics of their sorry state.
The sun was now up and we looked around at the carnage surrounding us...people sat looking misty-eyed out to sea, where battered blokes stood relieving themselves. Some of the hardcore posse were still raving as if their lives depended on it, some people were asleep on the huge speakers of the soundsystem, vibrating as they snored away in a drunken stupor. Some were stumbling down the beach desperately trying to remember what the name of their guesthouse was..or maybe what their name was, for that matter. It looked like a scene from the video to Michael Jackson's Thriller, when all the ghouls are lurching about in that graveyard.
It had been a funny night, we agreed - enjoyable on the one hand, but also a bit sad - how Westerners have come to these stunning shores and turned them into..what? Well, it was all a bit tacky. A bit like Southend or Blackpool, only with a much better view. They'll be selling "Kiss me quick" hats next.Maybe we're just getting old - we had been amongst the oldest at the party after all.
Back at the haven of the villa we slept like babies, grateful that we'd stayed off those buckets and had all made it back safely...
Journey from hell...
Our taxi dumped us (and our ever-increasing pile of luggage) unceremoniously in the middle of the busy road outside the train station and we bustled about trying to locate our cabins on the sleeper train which would be home for the next 14 hours.
As we'd paid in advance for a first-class cabin with bar and meals, we were somewhat surprised to be shown to a 5ft by 3ft cell which had already been gatecrashed by a family of cockroaches. There were ominous stains on the seats and decades-old dirt ingrained into every crevice. We refused to be deterred by our less-than-glamorous surroundings and cracked open the Chang (local beer) whilst we had a good chinwag.
Dinner turned out to be a surprisingly palatable Thai dish of chicken with cashew nuts, as long as you closed your eyes whilst you ate it and tried not to picture the squalid kitchen where it had been prepared, if the rest of the train was anything to go by.
At 9pm a Thai guard came into our cabins and transformed our stained seats into..stained bunkbeds. He had the cheek to wear a cotton facemask, presumably to prevent him from inhaling the dustmites who were greedily devouring the dead skin of hundreds of previous passengers. The paying customers on the other hand (ie us) had no such luxury, and were expected to bury our faces into the filthy cushions and drift off into a peacful slumber.The liberty! Those facemasks should have been standard issue, handed out with the tickets as we boarded.
We finally arrived at Surat Thani at 9am, 3 hours later than promised, with stiff necks from sleeping fitfully on breeze blocks disguised loosly as pillows.
We all filed off the train and onto a sweaty bus which would take us to the port to catch the ferry to Koh Phangan. After a few hours of waiting and 10 games of Blackjack it became apparent that something was amiss. As we were bundled onto another yet coach and taken to a different port we definitely began to smell a rat ( or it may have just been our armpits, given that we'd all been in transit for well over 16hrs at this point).
By 4pm there was still no sign of the boat, only a sea of angry passengers fuming at the Thais to get us to our destination.
We eventually made the ferry crossing, but not before we'd watched "You Don't Mess With The Zohan" 3 times on the (seriously overcrowded) boat, two of which were in Thai, which made it strangely more watchable.We arrived on Tuesday night, a whole 24hrs after we'd left Bangkok.
Luckily, our villa was the epitome of sleek, modern style and boasted luxuries such as hot running water and a western toilet. (Holes in the ground are commonplace in Thailand.)
Locating the beach bar next door to the villa, we finally began to chill out with a radioactive cocktail and the soothing tones of Bob Marley...
As we'd paid in advance for a first-class cabin with bar and meals, we were somewhat surprised to be shown to a 5ft by 3ft cell which had already been gatecrashed by a family of cockroaches. There were ominous stains on the seats and decades-old dirt ingrained into every crevice. We refused to be deterred by our less-than-glamorous surroundings and cracked open the Chang (local beer) whilst we had a good chinwag.
Dinner turned out to be a surprisingly palatable Thai dish of chicken with cashew nuts, as long as you closed your eyes whilst you ate it and tried not to picture the squalid kitchen where it had been prepared, if the rest of the train was anything to go by.
At 9pm a Thai guard came into our cabins and transformed our stained seats into..stained bunkbeds. He had the cheek to wear a cotton facemask, presumably to prevent him from inhaling the dustmites who were greedily devouring the dead skin of hundreds of previous passengers. The paying customers on the other hand (ie us) had no such luxury, and were expected to bury our faces into the filthy cushions and drift off into a peacful slumber.The liberty! Those facemasks should have been standard issue, handed out with the tickets as we boarded.
We finally arrived at Surat Thani at 9am, 3 hours later than promised, with stiff necks from sleeping fitfully on breeze blocks disguised loosly as pillows.
We all filed off the train and onto a sweaty bus which would take us to the port to catch the ferry to Koh Phangan. After a few hours of waiting and 10 games of Blackjack it became apparent that something was amiss. As we were bundled onto another yet coach and taken to a different port we definitely began to smell a rat ( or it may have just been our armpits, given that we'd all been in transit for well over 16hrs at this point).
By 4pm there was still no sign of the boat, only a sea of angry passengers fuming at the Thais to get us to our destination.
We eventually made the ferry crossing, but not before we'd watched "You Don't Mess With The Zohan" 3 times on the (seriously overcrowded) boat, two of which were in Thai, which made it strangely more watchable.We arrived on Tuesday night, a whole 24hrs after we'd left Bangkok.
Luckily, our villa was the epitome of sleek, modern style and boasted luxuries such as hot running water and a western toilet. (Holes in the ground are commonplace in Thailand.)
Locating the beach bar next door to the villa, we finally began to chill out with a radioactive cocktail and the soothing tones of Bob Marley...
Bangkok (Hilton? hardly..)
We vacated our 4-star haven in Sydney on December 28th and reluctantly handed back the key-card, all too aware that the accommodation honeymoon was over and we were about to be plunged back into hostel hell.
We weren't quite so reluctant to surrender the keys to the campervan however and breathed a sigh of relief that we'd slept in that day-glo Mitsubishi monster for the last time.
Once again, it was time to bid adieu to another country and get our quota of Qantus catastrophes. And they didn't disappoint. Already on a downer at having to leave Sydney,one of our favourite cities so far, we arrived at the airport at 4pm only to discover that we wouldn't be leaving for Bangkok until at least 10pm.
Feeling like Tom Hanks in Terminal, the film where the homeless guy lives in the airport, we plotted down and began waiting in earnest. 6 hours and a couple of free meal vouchers later we finally began boarding.
Ten hours after that we finally touched down at Bangkok airport, which was just as well as we'd had our fill of plane meals (2), low-budget "comedies" (1), flatulence (unidentified source), and turbulence (lots).
By now it was 7am Sydney time, 3am local time, so we were feeling a tad tired to say the least. As Liam's head lolled around in the back of the taxi, our Thai driver and I attempted to locate our dilapidated guesthouse which was lurking next to the Khao San Road in Banglamphu.
Stumbling up 6 flights of stairs (sadistic receptionist..grrr!) we couldn't wait to get our backpacks off our backs and crashed out instantly...
We awoke a few hours later to the shrill tone of my mobile bleeping, letting me know that my mates Kirsten and Louise had arrived from England.Yay! They checked into the same hostel and caught some Z's whilst Liam and I checked out the locality.
Khao San Rd was buzzing with life - tuk tuk's chugged noisily past as did motorbikes carrying entire families, beaten-up old cars and the main cause of all that traffic - a steady stream of stray dogs.
Bunting swayed in the breeze above our heads along the entire street, which was lined with market stalls selling rip-off designer goods for as far as the eye could see.We shopped with gusto, picking up an impressive array of designer labels - it was like an hour in the life of Victoria Beckham, only she has the real versions of course, and probably prefers Bond Street to Bangkok.
Within an hour we had bags of Havianas flip-flops, Ray Ban sunnies to replace the real ones Liam had inadvertently left in a Sydney nightclub, shorts, jewellery, guide books, beauty products, the list goes on. All for the princely sum of ..about fifteen quid. Liam thought he was Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman with all his new merchandise, even stopping for a haircut to complete his new look. At one point I thought he was going to ask for a manicure and facial.
All shopped out, we went back to our roach motel, met the girls and celebrated our new purchases with a few beers and a couple of Marlboro Lights, lit using our new fake Louis Vuitton-print lighters, fashioned into novelty mini handbags. Naff,us?
The sun was shining and spirits were high - well they were until we began the traumatic journey to Koh Phangan by train, coach, taxi and boat, where we had a date with a certain Full Moon Party..
We weren't quite so reluctant to surrender the keys to the campervan however and breathed a sigh of relief that we'd slept in that day-glo Mitsubishi monster for the last time.
Once again, it was time to bid adieu to another country and get our quota of Qantus catastrophes. And they didn't disappoint. Already on a downer at having to leave Sydney,one of our favourite cities so far, we arrived at the airport at 4pm only to discover that we wouldn't be leaving for Bangkok until at least 10pm.
Feeling like Tom Hanks in Terminal, the film where the homeless guy lives in the airport, we plotted down and began waiting in earnest. 6 hours and a couple of free meal vouchers later we finally began boarding.
Ten hours after that we finally touched down at Bangkok airport, which was just as well as we'd had our fill of plane meals (2), low-budget "comedies" (1), flatulence (unidentified source), and turbulence (lots).
By now it was 7am Sydney time, 3am local time, so we were feeling a tad tired to say the least. As Liam's head lolled around in the back of the taxi, our Thai driver and I attempted to locate our dilapidated guesthouse which was lurking next to the Khao San Road in Banglamphu.
Stumbling up 6 flights of stairs (sadistic receptionist..grrr!) we couldn't wait to get our backpacks off our backs and crashed out instantly...
We awoke a few hours later to the shrill tone of my mobile bleeping, letting me know that my mates Kirsten and Louise had arrived from England.Yay! They checked into the same hostel and caught some Z's whilst Liam and I checked out the locality.
Khao San Rd was buzzing with life - tuk tuk's chugged noisily past as did motorbikes carrying entire families, beaten-up old cars and the main cause of all that traffic - a steady stream of stray dogs.
Bunting swayed in the breeze above our heads along the entire street, which was lined with market stalls selling rip-off designer goods for as far as the eye could see.We shopped with gusto, picking up an impressive array of designer labels - it was like an hour in the life of Victoria Beckham, only she has the real versions of course, and probably prefers Bond Street to Bangkok.
Within an hour we had bags of Havianas flip-flops, Ray Ban sunnies to replace the real ones Liam had inadvertently left in a Sydney nightclub, shorts, jewellery, guide books, beauty products, the list goes on. All for the princely sum of ..about fifteen quid. Liam thought he was Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman with all his new merchandise, even stopping for a haircut to complete his new look. At one point I thought he was going to ask for a manicure and facial.
All shopped out, we went back to our roach motel, met the girls and celebrated our new purchases with a few beers and a couple of Marlboro Lights, lit using our new fake Louis Vuitton-print lighters, fashioned into novelty mini handbags. Naff,us?
The sun was shining and spirits were high - well they were until we began the traumatic journey to Koh Phangan by train, coach, taxi and boat, where we had a date with a certain Full Moon Party..
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