I think my last despatches left us in Malaysia, about to cross to
Thailand. I'm happy to say that apparently the Thai separatists didn't
feel that kidnapping two already-quite-pungent English girls would
further their cause at all, so any of you that are sick of getting these
emails can take it up with them.
Our first couple of weeks in Thailand featured a few clouds on the
horizon, literally and figuratively; first torrential rain, then I got
my handbag nicked. We started off in Krabi, near Phuket on the west
coast. It was surprisingly touristy after Malaysia, which is actually a
godsend when you arrive late and tired and all you want is a menu in
English and all the amenities within walking distance. The sad part is
that with English-speakers everywhere, the locals inevitably get
relegated to the periphery of life; taking food orders and giving
change, and the smiles are professional rather than spontaneous.
Still, we rediscovered the joys of crappy little mopeds, and spent an
entire day out riding with three lads to the nearby beaches, feeling
like a chapter of Hell's Angels and sounding like a platoon of
hairdryers. The weather was crap and it was coming up to the full moon
though, so we headed over to Koh Pha Ngan, off the east coast, for the
famous Full Moon Party. We ended up at a resort owned by a complete
stoner who distributed spliffs from a Pringles box-full every night,
thus ensuring that none of the guests ever left. This got a bit boring,
actually, despite the beach and gorgeous weather, so we hired scooters
again and, coming home one evening, I stupidly left my handbag in my
front basket, so the two men who came up behind me with their lights off
only needed to lean over and deftly snatch it before speeding off. I
stopped chasing them when I realised I was more likely to crash and die
than get my bag back. Still, every cloud... I've bought a much nicer
camera in anticipation of the insurance! The most annoying thing is that
I lost an excellent video clip of Mischka drunkenly singing along to
'Hey Ya!' on her Walkman, and attempting to dance along while lying on
the bed in her nightie.
The Full Moon party itself was rubbish. I assume it gained its
reputation in the days before crackdowns by Thai police meant that most
people's stimulant of choice is sang som, the local death brew (some
relation to whisky, but supposedly hallucinogenic), which is literally
sold by the bucket on the street leading down to the beach. The
predictable result is Faliraki-style scenes of unattractive chaos, with
sunburnt teenagers passing out on the beach and p*ssing in the sea to
the accompaniment of standard dance tunes and Euro-pop.
We moved on swiftly to Koh Tao, where I did my advanced scuba diver
course and we spent the evenings watching suspiciously recent films at
local bars, giggling at the frequently audible laughter from the
original cinema audience and the occasional large, moving black area
where someone had obviously stood up in front of the video camera. The
diving was good, although the obligatory night dive, which I'd been
terrified about, was actually quite dull, as you can only see within a
small space illuminated by your torch.
Our arrival in polluted, cheerfully chaotic Bangkok more or less
coincided with the start of Euro 2004. The first two England games made
us wish we hadn't stayed up till 1-bloody-45-AM to watch, the France one
for obvious reasons and the second because of an embarrassing episode
involving a couple of drunken English boys doing their noisy best to
pick a fight, for a good half-hour and to the dismay of all the locals,
with a tall Australian who admirably refused to rise. The third match,
of course, entirely made up for the previous two! We watched it here in
Chiang Mai, (Northern Thailand) in a bar where, sadly, there weren't
many English people. Luckily, a large Irish contingent were there to
good-naturedly cheer us on, while a lone, dessiccated-looking Scot
provided a contrast by sitting in the corner, muttering the standard
spiel about not hating England, but... to the largely indifferent people
within hearing distance.
We're off to Pai tomorrow, so we decided to go for a massage today,
something we've been intending to do for ages. We thought it would be
relaxing, so we were rather surprised to be nearly beaten to death! In
serious danger of getting the giggles, I desperately avoided Mischka's
eye as I was bent agonisingly back, almost double, at one point, and in
fact we only just made it out before starting to laugh... shakily. My
masseuse was a girl who clearly likes her pies and at one point, when
she was kneeling on my back, Mischka swears she heard my ribcage
creaking. Still, any aches and pains I had before have disappeared
entirely, replaced by new ones and probably a fine set of bruises.
Chiang Mai is old and beautiful, full of wats (temples) like Bangkok,
but within a much smaller and more relaxed area. There are orange-robed,
shaven-headed monks to stare at on every street, and the wats are so
ornate, they could have been designed by Liberace (or Versace, for my
younger readers ;o) ). And we've been hiring scooters again...!
That's all from me for the moment. I thought I'd better get this off
while I'm still in a good mood, ie before tomorrow's game with Portugal.
I hear the weather's good back home, so I hope you're all enjoying it!
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