Friday, May 18, 2007

Spring 2007 > Thailand > Part III

THE 309 STEPS

After a slow and lazy morning, we packed up and got ready to make the three hour car journey to Chiang Mai, Thailand's second city. On the way into town, there was a sign for the local English language radio station, named TITS Radio - I can't work out if they were being funny or clueless. We picked up Parn's girlfriend, Am, and then met with various family members for a whopping meal at a restaurant owned by a famous Thai singer, with photos of her adorning all the walls. And there was a guy upstairs playing a bit of traditional music from North Thailand. Despite the midges and mosquitos, it was a very nice setting.

Soon after, we took a stroll down the big night market, with assorted souvenirs, snacks and services up for grabs. Though the market itself was quite a wonderful thing, it attracted so many tourist punters, I felt sorry for the Thai stall-owners. Oh, of course, tourism is where the money's made, but someone should really do a study on the social anthropology of back-packers, because all variations on the theme were represented there: the bum-bags and bulges, the lads and ladettes, the friends of the earth, the middle-aged last-ditch sun and spirituality-seekers... It seems visiting a foreign country gives people a license to wear ridiculous clothes (which would, however, look fine and fitting on the local population), forego basic hygiene and act like a ponce. Whenever I travel, seeing fellow tourists (especially Western ones) almost always gives me an uncomfortable feeling, as it's like seeing a mirror image of yourself, except more like one you'd find in a fun house, contorted and twisted by the travel experience.

But enough self-loathing - I purchased a few postcards from a nice local photographer, while Ilan, Parn, Am and Baptiste all browsed and bought various nick-nacks. Then, it was time for us to crash at our hotel, which was far grander than any of us could have predicted; again, we felt we were far from worthy of the luxury being bestowed upon us. Hell, we wouldn't have minded even if the place stunk of durians (but there was a sign in the foyer forbidding them, so we were safe).

The next morning gave us the opportunity to try out the yummy hotel breakfast buffet and watch some godawful television. Baptiste and I despaired at the hollow use of English bandied about by the Asian TV networks, especially one documentary we were treated to about a Korean pop star called M - the inane voice-over built him up as if he were the second coming, and how running about in the sand for his album cover, choreographing a new dance routine or writing almost all his singles himself were like some incredible gifts he would bestow upon his fans as thanks for their undying support. I'm sure he's a lovely guy, but the media-managing ass-kissery was too much to stomach that morning. But more on tummy upsets later.

We took the long winding mountain road outside of Chiang Mai, up to Doi Suthep Temple. Apparently, Chiang Mai university students would have to run all the way up the road as part of their initiation ceremony. Can't say I'd want to join them. Indeed, the turning left to right started to make Ilan a little car sick, and she soon became quite attached (read: addicted) to something equivalent to a Vicks vapour stick to soothe her dizziness (even if it was actually designed to unblock stuffy noses). Once we arrived, we took a look at the 309 naga-adorned steps to the temple and thought it would be a fun idea to race to the top. Despite the intense heat and bright sunlight. Of course, we would have to do our best to avoid the other stair-climbers and mutli-lingual begging kids, but Baptiste, Ilan and myself thought we'd give it a go. Probably a big mistake. Ilan got a head start, and then Baptiste and I charged on ahead. We were quick to overtake Ilan, and we were neck-and-necking it for the next 100 steps or so, but then I took the lead. However, about 200 steps in, I slowed to a virtual crawl, my stiff legs taking each step one by one with gradually slacking pace. Concerned Mr. B was just behind, I pressed on and reached the top, only to see that I was in fact a great deal ahead. Head pounding, legs aching and pores sweating, I staggered into the conveniently located shop to get bottles of water for the competitors, then slouched in the shade to await the rest of the party. Baptiste showed up and quickly headed to the lavvy for a quick vomit and Ilan, Am and Parn arrived together at a more intelligent pace. We got our entry tickets (well, the Thai nationals didn't have to, of course, and Ilan managed to get by with being Thai yet again) and proceeded inside.

No sooner had we entered than I had to sit down - I hadn't recovered quite as much as I had thought, and was feeling quite dizzy and sick. At least it was a peaceful environment to recuperate, except for the occassional soft-ring of one of the numerous bells that surrounded the inner sanctum. Behind the temple was a wonderful purple blossom tree in front of a balcony ledge that would have offered a view to Chiang Mai if it were not for the fog - instead, it created a surreal experience of being so high up that we were surrounded by clouds. Inside the temple itself was a wonderful gold stepe and a variety of Buddhist sculptures. Am took the lead and gave us each candles and flowers which we carried as we walked around the stepe 3 times, reciting a different name to ourselves as we did. There were also different Buddhist statues to represent which day of the week you were born on, and one of those stick-shaky fortune telling things. I've forgotten the specifics of the corresponding slip that told of my future (though I remember it being pretty positive), but it was the number that struck me - 23. Now, I've always had a 'thing' about the number twenty-three, before I became aware of all the discordian belief theories and the Jim Carrey movie. And it had followed me to Thailand in a situation involving the telling of my future. Simple coincidence, or greater forces at work? Uhhhhh...the former. Or is it? Anyway, just as we were about to leave, we were sprung upon by a couple of local chancers who confronted Ilan, and this time her Thai appearance went against her, as they started speaking to her in Thai, apparently criticising her for not wearing suitable attire (even though they had ignored the skimpier Western tourists a few metres away). We upped and went with little hesitation.



Back in town, we stopped off for a big load of ice cream, but Ilan still wasn't feeling too well from the drive (and probably the stair race) and Baptiste made a mess on his arm and plopped much of a scoop on the floor like some excitable baby. However, there was then an unexpected turn of events in that Am's cousin had invited us to his house and then was to take us all out for dinner at the Riverside restaurant. Unfortunately, we were all very tired and suffering from varying degrees of illness. I'd kind of had enough of Thai food at that point, but it turned out while I was glancing at the menu at the tasty steaks and burgers, we'd already had our food ordered for us - another load of Thai dishes I couldn't stomach, plus a lot of beer to go with it. It was an exceedingly generous gesture, but we weren't in the mood, and the language barrier made it even harder to express at least something beyond a simple 'thanks'. Originally, the plan had been to stay and watch the live music, but the band didn't start playing until we had finished eating and we couldn't see them playing anyway. Basically, we didn't mean to be rude but that was clearly the impression we gave, and it didn't sit very well with any of us. It was a case of misplaced kindness, catching us at a bad time and not letting us have a say on what we wanted to do on our holiday. We called it a night around nine, but stayed up for hours in the hotel yakking away as we often did.


PACHYDERMATA AND SQUAMATA ENCOUNTERS

It was an early wake-up call for us all to take a trip to the Maesa Elephant Camp outside the city. However, by the time we got there, there wasn't going to be another show for a good few hours, so we decided to buy our tickets for later and backtrack to Mae Rim Snake Farm. Loud hip-hop and dance music played from the speakers and a giant billboard advertised it as being home to an anaconda wrestler as the star attraction. It later turned out he wasn't there at the moment as he had left with a number of specimens to be involved with the new Rambo flick, John Rambo, which was shooting in Thailand at the time. And having seen the latest preview, it seems Rambo is indeed spending his time tending to a snake farm of his own, before going back into action and exploding Burmese troops into big splats of grue. Anyway, we had a brief look around at the variety of serpents on offer, got briefly concerned by an empty cage, marvelled at the writhing tangled twists in the snake pit, and felt a little bit sad looking into the rabbit and chicken cages - luckily, we weren't around for feeding time, but we were just in time for the show.


The format of the show consisted of one guy pissing off a bunch of snakes while another commentated in a mix of Thai and hilarious English (of which I will add quotes to the description of the show). And scaring the audience witless. All of this took place in a little circular area, but the act would frequently be brought right up to the audience. Whether they liked it or not (and we were sat within easy reach). First off were three cobras, which he would tease and taunt until they made a go for him. "Oh, be careful Snakeman! Wawawawa BAN! Wawawawa BAN! Wow, Snakeman! Watch out Snakeman!" At one point, he even gave a cobra a tender kiss on the head. "Hey, he kiss the snake! Everybody take picture! Maybe he's homosexual!" He then proceeded to 'milk' the snake for venom and offer it to members of the audience if they wanted a sip. "It's not Johnnie Walker Blue Label!" Next were a trio of smaller snakes, which was a similar deal as before, except it culminated in him holding all three in his hands, with the neck of one in his mouth (if you can imagine a snake having a neck, considering they kind of are all neck). This was followed by the jumping snake. They made a big show of trying to get it out of the box, as if it were going to leap out at any moment. Then suddenly, something was flung in our direction, landing just by Ilan, causing her to let out a very long scream that did not die, even when it was revealed to be just a piece of rope. The jumping snake leapt about, latching on to the snake-wrangler's pantalons at one point, and even managed to slither out of the mini arena, towards the audience, a number of times. At one point, the wrangler hypnotised the snake and made it lie on it's back, before taking it round the audience for all to touch. It was indeed very still and calm, reminding me of the old chicken and chalk hypnosis trick. "Hey, don't worry if he bites - you die in 30 minutes, but hospital 20 minutes away!" Finally was the python ("Peetan!"), which offered up it's services to wrap around people's necks, and Parn happily obliged, as he also did having a smaller snake wrap around his head in laurel-esque fashion - not that Olly'd approve (see what I did there?). It was the kind of experience that flaunted so many safety measures that you wouldn't be able to get away with it in other parts of the world - but I guess it was all the more thrilling for it.

It was now about time to return to the elephant camp. Utenshu-san (our driver, if you recall) left us to go get some lunch first as, according to Parn, she hadn't had much of a breakfast. Okay, I thought, followed by WH-WH-WHAT? I'd been there at the breakfast buffet and she had loads! Ah, never mind. While we waited around, we got to look at some elephants! Elephants are pretty cool - like giant deformed cows really, and the smell of them (and their leavings) made me think of Somerset. Utenshu-san soon rejoined us and we were all set to go on a half-hour elephant ride around the park on top of the beasts. It was a little awkward sitting on a bench perched on a pachyderm rocking from side to side with your feet kind of nestling on it's neck with the 'driver' on the head. Not the most practical method of travel, but certainly one of the most fun I've been on. We went up and down hill, and into a little creek for a bit of splashing and trunk squirting. But by the end, I had a rather soggy, sweaty bum, which was a little unpleasant (why did I even mention it here?). Plus, my elephant was called Poo Billy.

We finished in time for a Cornetto and for the elephant show. An initial parade of fifteen or so nellies of different sizes and ages welcomed the audience with bows, squeaks and trunk waving. Then came the performances, which ranged from simple instructions (like kneeling, picking up hats, doing funny dances and such) to more complex displays, in particular the football penalty shoot-out and the art showcase, as the trunked-ones painted a variety of images which were quickly snapped up by those prepared to pay a hefty price tag. At the end, we all got a chance to take a picture with the smaller ones, which left a big patch of slobber on my trouser leg. At least I didn't have to pose with any of the male elephants which were visibly 'excited' during the final parade.


We had a late lunch at the park (which Utenshu-san also helped herself to) and returned to the hotel to rest. Come dinner time, we left Baptiste behind to sleep in front of the TV, on the French language channel, and ended up at a little restaurant by a different night market close by. After spaghetti for lunch, it was time to have another Western dish to continue my Thai food break and I chose the chicken cordon bleu (which was, according to the menu, "raped in bread crums"). Suitably satisfied, we did a little market shopping before returning to the hotel, where we ate strawberries I'd bought, dipped in sugar, from a brandy glass (there's only so much serving preparation one can do in a hotel room).

For photos, check out my Parn's Facebook, Baptiste's Chiang Mai set, and, of course, my own sets for Doi Suthep Temple and Snakes and Elephants.

Coming Soon: my adventure reaches its end - goodybe to Chiang Mai, and return to Bangkok. Plus! Sesame massage! Ancient ruins! Horrible drunkenness!

Friday, May 11, 2007

Spring 2007 > Thailand > Part II

FRIENDS REUNITED

Still reeling from "Off Load Weapons Room" next to the x-ray scanner at our departure airport (guns okay on board, just leave the ammo, okay?), Ilan was there to greet us at the Bangkok aiport upon our return from Koh Samui. She appeared to have settled into the holiday swing of things nicely, but before we returned to Parn's place, his mother took us all out for a dinner with more dishes than I've had hot dinners...you get what I mean. Then we went to the night market we had spotted previously for some omiyage (holiday souvenirs and gifts). We didn't realise quite what the scale of the market was until we arrived at an outdoor music concert and beer garden. As I walked into the venue area, a large European middle-aged man with sun-dried tomato skin staggered in front of me with his Thai wife. And as she walked past, she gave me a look that could only be described as a mix of "Get me out of here" and "I want you for breakfast". The stage itself had little desktop game machines and karaoke booths for one-song hire - just more examples of Thai ingenuity in public entertainments, such as the arcade machines which are just PS2's in boxes, and the purikura (photobooth machines) which were just a digital camera, a computer and a printer.



We sat down near the front drinking various German brews and snacking on chili-laced cashew nuts (which we used to make spicy beer, the thirst-inducing/thirst-quenching beverage). We got the full brunt of homo-erotic dance routines and mangled Thai versions of well-known R'n'B tunes (I believe their cover of The Black Eyed Peas' "My Humps" didn't contain any consonants). We also took a ride on La Roue de Paris (surely 'de Bangkok', non?) which was clearly of great joy to Baptiste. For some strange reason, Ilan insisted we spend the majority of our ride posing as if we were in a Chanel commercial. We also got to hang around with one of those painted silver dudes who you pay to make them move a little bit. Oh, I guess you're paying for the time it took for him to paint himself and get his outfit on and all, but next time, just think about what you are actually gaining from this transaction. It's a bit ridiculous, that's all. Anyway, we soon headed back home to unpack and sort out our recently returned things, and we could finally present our gifts from China to the Prasjaksattrus, which, although in woeful imbalance as a token of thanks to the incomparable generosity bestowed upon us, were happily accepted.

Another day in Bangkok was on the cards, and again we were to frequent numerous department stores to get the full-on Thai shopping experience. Baptiste decided there was too much of Thailand to see without a method of recording his adventures and bought himself a new point-and-shoot digital camera like my one to tide him over until he could invest in another one like that he had before Shanghai. After lunch and ice cream (as is de rigeur in such a climate), we thought it would be a good idea to head to the Jade Temple, but were dismayed to find it had already closed before 3.30pm. It seemed strange that they would shut a major tourist attraction when the temperature and sunlight would be at their most bearable (it was a similar deal elsewhere). Who'd want to go walk around out of the shade in the intense noon heat? Near the entrance, a couple of shady guys advised us that it would be a better idea to go on a boat trip along the Chao Phraya River. It sounds rather fishy, but I just leave Parn to natter away with them in Thai to get all the details. We make our way to the pier, but our driver tries to broker a different deal and manages to get us a trip for half price, but we end up having half the fun. All we end up doing is going in a little motor boat, spending 10 minutes to look around Wat Arun (a temple decorated with smashed crockery and the like), then back on the boat to the pier. It was an unbelievable rip-off as well: 150 baht for the boat, 20 to actually land the damn thing at the temple, 40 because we took some silly snaps with those boards where you stick your head on the body of historical/spiritual characters (the cost of which was sneakily hidden in the corner - I wonder how many people coughed up on their own free will), 20 to get into the temple (of which the second floor was cornered off for renovations) and an extra 20 for Ilan to hire a top as she wasn't suitably dressed for the Wat. Okay, so all this mounts to mere pounds and pennies, but it was a lot for half an hour of mild entertainment in the context of Thai prices, and left me very miffed indeed.

But no time to stay angry - we had more packing to do, as we were to take the night train to Parn's hometown of Phrae, in the north of Thailand. We filled up on pizza before being dropped off at the station, expecting to see some grand building much like the department stores we'd witnessed, only to find it was pretty much a platform and a track. Once on board our train, we found our sleeper carriage and our little green bunks. We try to entertain ourselves as much as possible while trying to disturb our fellow passengers as little as possible. Brief rounds of Squares, Consequences and Categories pretty much fulfill our travel game quotient, but we all thought it would be a good idea to actually get some shut-eye. While the bunks were comfortable, the frequent stops punctuate my REM and there's little sense of time or space due to the constant lighting and lack of windows. What's more, a perplexing sticker in my bunk labelled SHORT FISHERMAN PANT had focused all my attention upon it. Portrait of the sleep deprived.


PHRAE AND PREJUDICE

We arrived at our final stop around 6:15am, and were picked up by our new driver (who would be called Utenshu-san from now on, as in the Japanese) to take us to Parn's place. And what a grand place indeed. A wonderful teak building, with a number of outlying houses and some lovely open spaces. Plus, Parn had his own standalone quarters (complete with en suite shower-room, big telly and drumkit - natch) which would become our base of operations. But at that moment, it was sleepy time for us all unti 11am, when we woke to have lunch (a variety of yummy dishes served with a mini-basket of sticky rice each - our staple meal for this portion of our adventure) with various family members, colleagues, friends and staff. We also spent a large part of our time posing for photographs, soaking up the sunshine, and, in my case, freaking out little children - not to tears, but there was something about me that caused them to stare, before running and hiding. It was probably then about time for some proper sight-seeing.

First stop was the old governor's house, which made me feel like the baddie in Commando - I could picture Arnie slaughtering a mini-army on the lovely rear garden lawn. It was also home to a collection of old typewriters and massive Casio caluclatos. Plus, there was an actual jail in the basement, prompting all kinds of convict-related banter - but what does it say about me that I was the last to leave? Next, we visited Pratubjai House, a grand teak building home to a variety of memorabilia, handicrafts and local artefacts. It was also our first encounter with hiked-up prices for farang (the Thai term for foreigners). I can see how raising the prices is in someway justified, asuming you have a greater income living abroad, but it still makes you feel even more like an outsider when you already feel like one naturally. And it'd be a nuisance if you were an actual resident, having to continually prove your status every time you went to a tourist hot-spot. What's more, Ilan managed to get away with looking Thai enough to get the discount. Still, at least we all got keyrings thrown in with the entry fee. And finally, we took a trip to Phae Muang Phi, a rocky valley created by forest flooding. The unusal rock formations would make it a perfect shooting location for a Star Trek episode (Kirk years, obviously) or a prehistoric epic, and we had much fun clambouring about the sand and stone. Plus, we saw a bunch of lizards and a rock that looked like a man's thingy!



We returned via Parn's aunt's cafe for a few drinks and met his little cousins who accompanied us to a festival taking place at a nearby temple that evening. We were almost the only farangs there, prompting the monks to give us a cheery "Hello". Various rituals were taking place, as hundreds gathered to pray, light candles, receive blessings, ring bells and such. But there were also all kinds of stalls, games, rides and performaces taking place. We snacked on candy floss and played a darts game very badly (clearly my previous success in Xi'an was a fluke). However, I was more concerned with the nasty bit of chewing gum stuck to my shoe, picking up all manner of dirt, sand and grit from the festival ground. Lovely. Regardless, we returned to Parn's shack for drinking games (half-remembered from Hokkaido, but none that really worked as well as they ought to have done) and general larking about until 3am. As you do on holiday, right?


RESERVOIR DOGS

Today's excursion didn't sound like a great deal of fun (a trip to the reservoir), but turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and relaxing afternoons of the trip. We took a motorboat out into the water, dropped off a couple of fishermen, and then stopped off at a kind of floating shack. On board was a bar, kitchen, music and karaoke system, and a group of people already enjoying snacks and drinks. We took our own little spot to relax and enjoy the views, but then the shack actually started to move and set sail. It was perhaps the least hydrodynamic (or whatever the water equivalent of aerodynamic is) vessel I'd ever been on, but it was a wonderful and surreal experience to drift along the water surface in a thatch-roofed hut, with on-board catering. We relaxed by the water's edge into the sunset, and had a thoroughly good time - even if a gecko shat on me, leaving a trouser stain that still remains.



We returned home via the video store and rented a copy of V for Vendetta on VCD (having tried the previous evening on DVD format, only to find it was a Region One copy - not Thailand's region at all). We all thoroughly enjoyed it, even though the ending was delayed when Baptiste paused the film for a quick loo break, only to return and press the eject button instead of play. Okay, it was dark, but as it was a VCD, that meant we had to start from the beginning of the second disc, and with the remote control missing, we had to let it play until the part we left off, around 15 minutes from the end. The rest of the evening and early morning consisted of scaring Ilan witless. I think Baptiste said an off-hand comment about strangers peering into her windows at night which meant she couldn't get to sleep, so we slept in her room, and she stayed with Parn. But then Parn and Ilan decided to get their revenge by tapping on our window and making spooky noises from outside. At first, we pretended not to notice, but then Baptiste popped up and I stuck my hand against the glass. Their squeals alerted the dogs, so they had to hurry back inside. But just as they were recuperating, I dragged myself into their room Sadako-style and gave Ilan the heebie-jeebies. And what lesson have we learned? Don't try and out-scare Mr. Steele - suffice to say, I would have won the scream competition in The Worst Witch hands-down. Or even up for that matter.

Some of these pictures are courtesy of Parn, and can be seen on his Facebook page, or try out the relevant Flickr pages of Baptiste and yours truly.

Next Time: Chiang Mai - more temples and markets and massage, plus elephants and snakes galore!

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Spring 2007 > Thailand > Part I

HAPPY LANDINGS

We arrive at Bangkok's new Suvarnabhumi Airport past midnight, which is all very stylish and swish, although it is apparently already falling apart, with a runway starting to crack up, and ghost stories a-plenty after a construction worker was trapped in a pillar of cement. A 'visa-upon-arrival' counter mocks our situation and while it's a long shot, we wait to see all the bags claimed before making our own lost baggage claim. The staff are extremely helpful and well-spoken, and we give them our details and are advised to get in touch with them once we can confirm the situation in Beijing (thinking about it now, we never called back - I hope they're not still looking for our lugggae). Obviously, the first things Parn wants to know when we meet him are "Where're your bags?", and, more importantly, "Where's Ilan?". Much exposition later, and we're in a taxi to his Bangkok pad, which was the perfect place to put our feet up (or inside the iSqueez massage machine, which sent Baptiste into fits of giggles on Vibrate mode). After a little Thai TV (featuring my old Japanese favourite, Medical Horror Check Show with 'Beat' Takeshi, and the karaoke channel with some bizarre old man chasing ladies in the forest and a Pan-Pan look-a-like), forty winks seemed the sensible option.

The following morning, we managed to get in touch with Ilan, and it turned out she would be able to come to Thailand (with our bags) thanks to a speedy visa application. Problem was it would be after we were due to head to Koh Samui, so we had to get a few supplies to tide us over until we returned. So, thanks to Parn's mum's personal driver (who would aid us throughout our Bangkok adventures), we headed to a nearby mall to do some shopping like all the cool kids do in Thailand. What struck me immediately was just how open every place seemed to be to different popular cultures, with American, British, French, Japanese, Australian and Korean brands, TV shows, bands, chains everywhere, not to mention Thailand's homegrown produce. First port of call was Hairworld, where Baptiste and I thought it was about time we got the snip. Baptiste ended up with a geeky bouffant and I looked like an English footballer, but over the course of the holiday, our respective 'dos settled a little better (Baptiste eventually having a touch of Louis Theroux about his look). I also picked up a couple of smart shirts there before we took the Sky Train to Siam Square for more shopping. Department stores varied from the big and flashy to the small and cheap, and we stocked up on various essential casual and beach wear, with Baptiste opting for a very zen kung-fu get-up. Much of our purchasing took place in MBK, which had vast floor space dedicated to big-name boutiques as well as smaller stalls. It also had quite a large cinema on the top floor, which proved just how much the Thais love movies - plenty of stands and posters advertising big releases from home and abroad (and many in their original language and/or with English subtitles - nice to see English being used again).

It was dark by the time the driver picked us up for a night-time tour around town. We drove through a night market which we would return to later, and through Chinatown, still showing the signs of New Year celebrations and an amazing amount of restaurants specialising in shark fin soup. Then there was the infamous red-light district, with a surprising amount of Japanese signs around - it wasn't actually as seedy as I had expected (or maybe hoped). And on the way home, we passed the Jade Palace and the King's Palace, but they weren't lit-up as we would have liked (i.e. at all). However, the amount of images of the King posted around was staggering - his face was almost omnipresent, from portraits in shops, to vast banners down the sides of skyscrapers. It represented just how respected he is and how loyal his subjects are.


AMARI SAMUKUNAI

Monday morning, and an early wake-up call as we had another flight to catch - this time, heading south towards a short break on the island of Koh Samui. But first, a change of clothes were in order, as this, being a Monday, was the day people were encouraged to wear yellow polo shirts with the King's emblem on (and if you're in a government job, you pretty much wear it every weekday). Mine was a little small and faded, but did the job nonetheless. We met Parn's mother at the airport and boarded the plane after a quick pad thai. The in-flight magazine proved to be a source of great entertainment thanks to it's cover article about how to take pictures of your girlfriend on holiday, which Baptiste committed to memory in a very short space of time.


Parn's father and the local police met us on arrival (to guide us, not arrest us), and we zipped past luscious scenery to make it to the ferry on time (which they actually delayed for us anyway). The boat itself was an old Japanese vessel based on the signage, and we were rewarded with stunning views and a beautiful sunset as it set sail. We arrived on the island an hour or so later, and were swiftly taken to a nearby beach resort for a lavish seafood supper on the beach. Endless amounts of spicy soup and platters of various crustaceans were brought out to us and we struggled to keep up (my piss-poor shell removal not helping matters much). The local law enforcer then drove us to the Banana Fan Sea Resort on the other side of the island where we would be staying. It's night-time by now, so the beach is empty, but the nearby tourist bars and clubs are packed. Our room is actually where the manager stays on his visits, so we have all the luxuries we could desire.

Once unpacked, we all head into town for ice-cream, then myself, Parn and Baptiste are led around town by one of the local cops. Well, he was more like your Western-style Sheriff, who would patrol the town, chat with his contacts and if anyone had a complaint, would get it sorted sharpish. And he kept his gun in a bumbag. While we have a few other essentials to buy, he advises us it's better and cheaper to go to Tesco tomorrow morning. Instead, we decided to have a look around the clubs, but they were surrounded with terrifying caricatures of womanhood, some of whom were certainly not 100% female. I don't really know what my ideal woman is, but I know now what my ideal woman isn't - these lank-haired, big-lipped, jewel-encrusted, leather-wrapped, long-nailed she-beast harpees, beckoning us to come join their party...shudder. We ended up in a reggae bar on the other side of town for a couple of beers, but there was a daft MC nattering over the music and a lot of middle-aged men getting pissed and dancing the kind of slow-motion bop dads do to reggae music. We left after about an hour - according to our cop the next day, there had been a stabbing that night at that bar, between a boyfriend and his girlfriend (at least they weren't strangers). The rest of the clubs in town were a bit too hectic for our tastes, so we retreated to a more laidback bar for drinks and snacks. And even though we were still technically full from all the fruits de mers we had consumed earlier, that didn't stop an impromptu Burger King before bed around 3am.

Today was our first full holiday day - and we started off in perhaps the most beautifully located Tesco in the world, with the bright hot sun basking down on a lush palm tree forest. With some more cheap beach-wear bought and bagged, we were off to another part of the island for a proposed scuba diving session. However, when we arrived, I was a little anxious about the lack of an instructor or any signs of scuba gear whatsoever. I was a little disappointed but, at the same time, incredibly relieved to discover it would be a snorkelling session instead, so we took a little boat out towards the bay of a small island, home to all kinds of tropical fish. To get them excited, we tossed them instant noodles that sent them into a feeding frenzy. We then got the chance to take a dip with them, but the coral towards the bay meant the water got very shallow indeed. I also decided to see for how long I could stalk an individual fish before it got lost in a shoal. After an hour or so, we headed back to shore for drinks and I realised just how horribly sunburnt I had become, having applied suncream but only after I'd gone swimming, so there had been much skin-sizzling during my snorkelling. I was pretty red across my back and shoulders, and was already beginning to flake up. Baptiste and Parn, on the other hand, had gotten off with only a few minor scrapes and cuts. Still, the sun was starting to set, so we decided to head onto Chaweng (sounds a bit like "Schwing!") beach by our hotel for jet-ski fun.

Jet-skiing was a wonderful experience. We had about half an hour to zip across the waves as much as we liked, and there was a great feeling of freedom as we bounced off crests and weaved through each other's splash-trails (or whatever the gnarly terminology is). It was far more exhilirating an experience than playing Waverace had suggested. However, I took a wave at a bid of a bad angle and fell off backwards, my last word before hitting the water a simple "Woah". Afterwards, we had a variety of varyingly disappointing barfood from 'Bob's Bar', which took ages to arrive as well. We then took advantage of the 'no longer as hot as is it was earlier' weather for paddling, swimming, sand-slinging and sand-sumo, with Parn beating Baptiste triumphantly. We returned to the hotel to wash and change before having some Thai green curry at a nearby restaurant and a visit to My Friendly Thai massage. I opted for the aloe vera treatment to soothe my sunburn, but it was a general body MOT, involving popping my toes, smearing lotion across my sweaty, hairy pores and getting rubbed quite close to my private triangle. We were all super-relaxed until Parn's mobile (which wasn't fixed to his ear in a rare moment of non-natter) killed the mood with an unexpected ringtone.

Our time in Koh Samui had been short but it was the first time my trip had felt like a genuine relaxing break from my time studying at university in Kyoto. We left the next morning after breakfast to return to Bangkok, to be reunited with Ilan. And our bags!

See pictures of Koh Samui here and here.

Coming soon - return to Bangkok and the journey to Phrae!