Ladyboys on Thong Naay Paan Yai beach

Hello again! I bet you didn't expect to hear from me again so soon! We've decided to spend a final day in Krabe, before moving onto Kho Pi Pi tomorrow, so I have a final chance to do some cheap internetting before we go back to an island, where it tends to be about three times as expensive.

When we get to Pi Pi we're going to do some more diving. Since we left the Pehrentians we have been very lazy. There are a couple of factors which have made it turn out that way. Firstly, a month into our travels and post full moon party, we are dog tired. I'm tired in a way that I've never experienced before: the kind of tiredness that comes with the heat and the mozzies and the dodgy food. I reckon it takes about three times as long to properly recover from a big night like we had last week at Haad Rin. Secondly, I got some thai stick on Kho Pha-ngan.

Now it's gone and, as I said, we head for Pi Pi tomorrow, and some diving. An activity to focus on at last! I plan to start my advanced open water course - which consists of five 'adventure' dives, including a compulsory navigation dive and a deep dive to thirty metres, where you are tested for nitrogen narcosis. When I was halfway through my basic open water course, the idea of diving to thirty metres just did not seem possible to me. Once I had mastered my fear and my ear pressure equalisation problems, I just wanted to go deeper and deeper.

Sitting there on the ocean floor, looking up at a cliff of coral, a thousand different fish swimming around you, and not being able to see the surface: that is one of the most amazing experiences it is possible to have, I think. You really are inhabiting an alien world, and for a moment you have lost contact with your own.

I'm very much looking forward to doing it some more, and apparently in the ocean around Pi Pi there are sharks aplenty. Rock 'n' roll!

So, from an amazing experience to a fascinating one. Let me take you back to the dim and drunken past once again, to the morning after the full moon party, to the moment I climbed aboard the taxi boat to Thong Naay Paan Yai beach...

Amongst my fellow passengers were some local ladies, or to be more exact, one local lady and two local ladyboys. I was sat right at the front of the boat, on the prow(?), and they were sat directly in front of me. Behind them sat an Irish couple and an Englishman. Whilst maintaining a frank an open interest in the three in front of me, I chatted inconsequentially to the three sat behind them. We shared a spliff. It was pleasant.

After a seemingly interminable period of time, the boat set off. A minute later, as the boat sped from the bay, the girl (flanked by her two ladyboyfriends) started laughing and complaining that she was cold. I mean, it was all said in Thai, but I guessed from her tone of voice and her gesticulations what the issue was. So the three of them all had a little cuddle. Then the girl in the middle gave me a little cuddle, which was charming.

[I must stress at this juncture that at no point in this episode did I cuddle, or contemplate cuddling a ladyboy. Some reassurance for the boys back home. Ed]

It was a beautiful morning. The sun felt good on my shoulders. I was tired but that was okay because I was heading home. I let my eyes wander to the sea, the cliffs, the tiny islands and the beaches that we passed, to the guys driving the long thin boat that we sat in. Often they wandered back to the three sat in front of me, who were deep in some kind discussion. I observed them with fascination. Enventually I plucked up the courage to engage them in conversation. Only one of them spoke any English, the ladyboy sat to my right, who was wearing a t-shirt bearing the legend 'The happiest girl in the world'.

I reckon this would be a good opportunity to describe these three ladies to you. The girl in the middle was very pretty in the classical oriental mould (my goodness, I hope she was really a girl!). Her friends were definitely more boy than lady, I guess they had been on the hormones but not had any kind of 'op'. There was no doubt that they were indeed fellas, but I still found myself scrutinising their necks, looking for the tell-tale adam's apples, because the way they held themselves - their demeanor - was so feminine. They were fascinating, just normal people who were not 'normal'. What does 'normal' mean anyway? Who cares? Normality is relative. Relatively boring, I mean.

So we held a stilted conversation. The girl in the middle seemed to have taken a shine to me (I knew this because she had her hand on my knee. In fact, I remember now - at one point they all had their hands on my knees - squeezing my legs, appraising them, discussing their merits or their weaknesses), and she asked questions in Thai while her friend translated. The questions were on the general theme; 'Do you have money?', 'Do you have house in England?'. That sort of thing.

Eventually, the crunch question came: 'Which one you want?' the ladyboy asked, pointing at herself (himself) and then at her two friends. I must have hesitated [Of course I bloody hesitated! Ed] because I was them asked, 'You want all three?'

Right. Shit, I thought, how to answer and be clearly understood? I couldn't very well say that under the circumstances it was probably better that I didn't have any of them. Also, a part of me (let's call it the social anthropologist in me, for the sake of argument) was interested to see what the outcome of all this would be. So, I pointed to the girl in the middle and said, very bluntly, 'I want her.'

This was duly translated and the girl in the middle giggled and grasped my knee more tightly. I wonder if I've landed myself in a bit of trouble here, I thought. I used the lull in the 'conversation' to reflect on the moment, take some photographs, and plan a strategy to extricate myself from the situation should I ultimately need to.

There must have been some kind of 'Western guy, Eastern girl' protocol which I had failed to follow because I was asked again, 'Which one you want? You want all three?'. You should be so lucky darling, I thought, and said nothing. This must happen all the time, and according to the law of the jungle I suppose I was meant to take ownership of the girl in some way. Well, I've never been very good at 'taking ownership of the girl' so to speak, and I had no intention of doing it this situation for a whole host of reasons. Namely, it would be against my ethics. The girl spoke no English. Could our relationship transcend language? I didn't think so. Also, and understandably I think, I didn't want to inadvertently end up in a menage a trois with two ladyboys, neither did I intend to do a 'Nimmo'. Last, but by no means least, my heart belongs to someone else, and my body too, I guess.

Anyway, I chose to ignore the repeated question, grin and continue to scrutinise them in the hope that they would realise my interest in them was purely scientific [but not biological Ed]. Presently, the girl in the middle removed her hand from my knee. Still, when I jumped off the boat and waved goodbye, I wandered whether I would be paid a little visit at some point, that some kind of 'courting' might ensue. But there was no visit. I didn't see them again, I was supposed to take the initiative. When I didn't, the matter was dropped. It was either that or the fact that my knees did not meet with their approval.

Photos from Kho Pha-ngan

Well, I've finally managed to overcome my technical difficulties. So without further ado, I give you...

Sunset at Surat Thani docks

A friendly local family

Hayley, Steve and Phil are fine travelling companions

A man with a union jack tatooed on his ear

Thong Naay Paan Yai beach

The crazy fire man of Thong Naay Paan Yai

Marie, Claire and Hayley, chilling before the full moon party

On the road to Haad Rin

Phil is gagtastic

Phil moves in...

Phil is once again the star of the photograph

The calm before the storm in the bar on the hill

I'm getting quite pissed now...

Hayley and Marie burnin' up the dancefloor

Steve's getting quite pissed now...

Up, up...

... and away!

Steve and I really are quite pissed now...

Maybe one bucket too many

Dawn on Haad Rin beach

7am

8am

9am

The happiest ladyboy in the world

A storm brewing

Time to leave Kho Pha-ngan

In conclusion, let me reassure you that it wasn't really Steve and I who climbed up on that scaffold. We checked and apparently we're not insured for mooning at thirty feet. Had we climbed up there, I have little doubt that I wouldn't be here now, sitting in this internet cafe smoking cigarettes and drinking iced tea. We have both been very sensible and grown up. It's the crazy Thai taxi drivers who have been ferrying us around for the last couple of weeks that you have to worry about.

The full moon party at Haad Rin

Wednesday 29th September, 1.30pm
Location: Thong Naay Paan Yai beach

After nights like last night, after 2-3 hours sleep, I wake up tired and hungover, my chest complaining because of the cigarette abuse, and I can't go back to sleep. This is a frequent problem, familiar to Sunday mornings in Bristol after a night out with Jake and Ed. Spending the afternoon in bed, sweating and feeling rough just isn't my style. So, despite the 10am conclusion to my full moon party I find myself sitting once again in the Nice Beach Resort restaurant, writing and waiting for my lunch. Ye gods, it really is DEAD around here. I wonder what the quality of the cuisine tends to be on Kho Pha-ngan the day after a full moon party? Suddenly my order of a tuna burger and fries somehow seems a bit adventurous.

So yes, it was quite a night at Haad Rin, for all sorts of fun and unusual reasons, but I will come to that shortly. My lunch has now come and gone, and so has my energy and with it the desire to describe these events to you right now. Later then, I promise. now I climb back into my hammock.


Friday 1st October, 2pm
Location: Somewhere between Kho Pha-ngan and Kho Samui

I'm writing this as I sit in freezing air con on the boat back to Surat Thani. I'm surrounded by travellers of all shapes and sizes: seemingly a mass exodus from Kho Pha-ngan after everyone has recovered from the full moon party. So far the day has been a little tiresome, the sky overcast. [Later it started really pissing with rain. It was grim. Ed] My belly does an occasional loop the loop, despite the Immodium: the food on Kho Pha-ngan has not really agreed with me. Or perhaps it was the Samsung buckets. In my experience thus far, Thailand has been tougher than Malaysia. This is mostly because of the people - visitors and locals - who seem colder and more closed up, rather than warm and open.

The full moon party, in its own way, was different - all in all an experience I wouldn't have wanted to miss, and one that I would be tempted to repeat next month.

So. Evening came on Tuesday, the night of the full moon party, and we gathered, lethargic, at Bamboo. We played cards, we ate, we drank Singha beers, we swung in hammocks. Presently, Steve, Phil and I decided to have a Samsung bucket. For the uninitiated, these are buckets, about the size of a bucket in a child's bucket and spade kit, containing a 35cl bottle of Thai whiskey (rumoured to contain amphetamine), a bottle of Red Bull (these look like medicine bottles - the Red Bull they sell in Thailand is illegal in the UK) and a can of coke.

Unsuprisingly, I felt much perkier afterwards. There was just enough time to play another game of shithead and share a second bucket between six of us, before we had to get in our taxi , which we shared with three Canadian jocks. It was a squeeze, and generally difficult to balance yourself, your beer and your cigarette on the red dirt track roads that seem to criss-cross the entire interior of the island. Before too long though, dirt track was replaced by asphalt, and we began the final leg of the 45 minute journey, travelling slowly in a convoy of taxi trucks containing revellers from all over the island.

We arrived at a busy car park close to the action on Haad Rin beach. The time was about 11.30pm, which meant that the party was just getting going. We made our way to the street and immediately found a hawker selling buckets for... well, I can't remember how much they cost but they seemed pretty cheap! We bought two between the six of us. my first impression of the party, as we made our way slowly down that street towards the beach, was of a busy Saturday night in any town in England, combined with a new year celebration and a street party, and transferred to a (slightly) exotic location. We spent a seemingly interminable amount of time in a bar called Cactus which was playing some urban music. At this point, the only difference I felt to spending a Saturday night in an average late bar in Bristol was the fact that I was drinking through a straw from a bucket. Vive la difference! We had fun. We danced to Dre and 50 Cent. We got a bit more drunk.

Eventually we got to the beach, which was busy, but not so busy that it was difficult to move around or stay together. We wandered up and down a bit, generally in great spirits, but there was no 'Wow factor'. Here was a beach crowded with people, containing maybe ten bars all pumping out music of a distinctly mediocre standard. Yet more shades of a English townie nightclub.

I suppose that it was around this time, maybe 1am, that my memory of events becomes a little patchy. The Samsung buckets had done their work. We retreated from the beach to a bar set up on the hillside. I don't know what motivated this swift exit from the beach - maybe it was because of the music, maybe we needed a toilet pit stop, maybe we needed another drink, I'm not sure. Anyway, this bar, creatively built on a number of different levels, was cool, and we ended up staying there for a good while. Everyone in there had a big grin on their face. Lads, covered in dayglow paint offered us their little pots and brushes and encouraged us to do likewise, which some of us duly did. We danced a lot, although I do not know what to. We drank some more buckets [containing Sangsom whiskey, not Samsung. They make TVs don't they? Ed]. We contemplated a mushroom shake, but at 500 bart, we decided against it. A fortunate decision methinks.

I went round the back to find the toilet. There, in the shadows, was a rough looking lady(boy?) who made the international sign of the blojob and then held up three fingers. Three bart for a blowjob? Thirty? Three hundred? I finished my business and didn't wait around to find out.

Eventually we made our way back down to the beach, where we set up camp a a bar playing some half decent cheesy house. Some cool photographs were taken. A final bucket was purchased - I chased mine down with about as much water as I could drink. Things suddenly became a bit soft focus. I danced a lot. Then, Phil and Hayley were leaving. Did I want to go with them? No, I didn't. I wanted to stay and dance some more. Steve was nowhere to be found, although later he told me that he was only fifteen metres or so away from the spot where I was dancing.

So, it appeared that everyone had left me, a fact to which at this point I was happily and drunkenly resigned. I decided to go for a wander down the beach. Suddenly, and without much in the way of warning, the sun came up. I think it was at about this point that I started to sober up. I sat there, contemplative, watching the sunrise while a random assortment of partygoers/casualties wandered by. Occasionally someone would stop for a friendly chat. It was a beautiful morning, the weather in stark contrast to the storms we had witnessed on the previous day.

Then it was 7am. I made my way back to the centre of the beach, where I was delighted to find that the party was still in full swing. Only one bar remained active, ruling the revellers with a rod of gleaming trance. 'Whoopee!', I thought! Maybe a hundred people continued to dance, many of them off their heads, some of them trance legends, some of them trance legends, some of them in trhe sea, some of them raving on the roof of the bar out of which the tunes were pumping. Some of them, I noticed, still in full on shark mode. This, I thought as I started to wind my body, must be what the full moon party is all about. I had my final wind, so immediately set about making big squares, small squares, big squares, small squares...

Presently, I became aware that my final wind had almost expired, and I started to experience some anxiety about the nature in which I was going to get myself to my bed. I wandered (a little forlornly) down the beach, picking my way past the revellers who had decided to sleep where they had fallen. Probably they were too pissed to have much choice about it. I contemplated the possibility that I would have to join them. But, as fortune would have it, my tired and bleary contact lense clad eyes spotted a boat with a sign on it which may or may not have said 'Taxi boat to Thong Naay Paan Yai'. The boat was about fifty metres offshore, moored in about four feet of water. I dithered. Eventually I lfted my cash, my camera and my fags above my head and waded out. It was a taxi to my beach, I was saved. I climbed aboard.

Now you may conclude that my full moon party night ended there. You would be wrong. As far as I'm concerned the most interesting episode of the night was yet to occur.

But that, as they say, is another story, and will be told at another time.

So don't miss the next exciting installment of Ollie's travel diaries: 'Ladyboys on Thong Nay Paan Yai beach'.