Popping to Phuket

Head pounding, mouth dry, glugging water and squinting my eyes at the scorching sun that reflected off the surface of the pool. What a sorry state I was in, given our beautiful surroundings. C, J.E and I were on holiday in J.E's beautiful family villa in Phuket, an island off the west coast of Thailand. 

The beautiful villa

The crew <3

As we were driving to the villa on our first day, I looked out the window and watched the lines of newly built, concrete houses; the shrill sound of drilling and construction work was everywhere. The houses along the main strips lacked beauty and authenticity compared to the delicate detail of Thai architecture; it was cheap, concrete and convenient; ideal for the temporary nature of tourism. The size of the island surprised me, it was huge! We drove and drove as the grey clouds began to form dark clusters, preparing for a downfall. The car slowed as we entered the compound that J.E's villa was situated in, surrounded by other identical, luxury holiday villas that were rented out throughout the year - what a genius investment. Our tummy's were grumbling so we dropped our bags and left the compound in search of some cheap, Thai food. As we roamed the streets, we observed the gentrification in the form of expensive cafes and restaurants, built for rich tourists; it didn't take long to realise that my idea of a cheap trip to Thailand might not have been so realistic... We scoped the area for the cheapest pad thai, picked up a pack of Chang from 7/11 and retreated to the pool as the sun began to shine. That evening, the adventure began...

We were on a mission, so we went to the local taxi rank and asked to be taken to the nearest reggae bar. The driver dropped us off halfway to our destination, pointed down a little sand path and charged us an extortionate fee but in our tipsy states, we were in no mood to argue. We got out, paid and followed the wooden sign that was painted red, yellow and green (despite having no association to reggae). Standing around a makeshift beach bar was a group of people, mainly middle-aged men with beer bellies, grey hair and brown, leathery skin from too much sun. It turned out to be the local hotspot for the expats living on the island, most of them unsurprisingly worked in construction and one owned the bar at which we were standing. We ordered a round and conversed about island living. A young, chirpy American/Thai guy J was working as the bartender. In broken bar chat, he told his story and explained that he was now working on the island and being looked after by the men surrounding us, who were his family friends. His ego was evident as he bragged a bit too loudly about his uncle being the chief of police and granting him direct access to a variety of narcotics... it was somewhat entertaining watching his chat being followed by the bar owner sternly reminding him to watch his mouth in public again and again; but he took no notice..

Waterfall walk 
Note: google maps is not always right.

The empty bottles of beer began piling up and I found myself in a heated conversation with a conservative, Californian tourist. He started off telling me about how much he despised Muslim refugees as they were 'ruining his country'... oh man, one of these. I found the irony amusing given my current work supporting (mainly) Muslim refugees. I'd had a few beers and was feeling a little provocative, so I continued to ask him questions and he continued to share his views. He turned around to proudly present the back of his T-Shirt that read 'Guns in!' above a huge, bait picture of a silver gun. Soon he was telling me about how climate change was a money making scam and essentially, doesn't exist; you've guessed that he's also a Trump supporter, right? His deluded beliefs astounded me and throughout the conversation he remained ignorant towards my beliefs or profession. I didn't waste my energy trying to convince him otherwise, one conversation wasn't going to crack that nut but I did wonder how often people did contradict him... for he seemed so sure of such nonsense.

Things lightened up when the men began belting out American country tunes and the bartender J, who was eager to show us around town was finally ready to go. We were given a lift to the 'actual' reggae bar to complete our mission and continued on to the other local hotspots that J insisted we check out. By the time we had reached the last bar, the rounds of beer were hitting me all at once and I was ready to go one of two ways. Thankfully, they served pad thai at the bar so in a blissful state of drunken ignorance due to J's insistence that it was vegetarian, I ate the whole plate (and the next afternoon as I sat raving about how good it had been, C informed me with a smug grin that it was full of minced pork. Fabulous.)

The waterfall (+ a the Russian Couple..)

I switched to water and my vision began to even out again. J was swaying around with a pool cue, giving orders to the local staff who he claimed were his great friends. But after a few warnings from the bar staff, we came to realise that very few of the locals actually wanted to be associated with him (i must admit I was oblivious to it all). The energy in the bar dropped when a buff Thai guy knocked J just as he was about to shoot his ball. The air was tense as the guy sat down with his other buff Thai mates, looked over towards J and shot C a deadly stare, we decided it might be a good time to go. The bill came and J's hosting skills were toppled as we were charged for the rounds of beers that he'd ordered despite no one wanting them. He denied ordering anything and we reluctantly forked out the rest of our weeks drinking budget. We got in a taxi and left, realising that he was a young, naive boy that was probably best to not get involved with.

We drove back in silence, processing the event that had just taken place. As we arrived at the villa, the headlights shone on the front door and a black figure emerged from piles of bags strewn across the front step. I squinted my eyes to see and beneath the overgrown facial hair, I began to recognise L! My best friend from Bristol who had been unresponsive online for 42 hours since we'd arrived. He'd intended to surprise me but instead, arrived to a locked, empty villa just after we'd left for our night out... 5 hours before. Classic. We picked up his makeshift campsite, cuddled, caught up and crashed.out. R arrived a few hours later from London to a villa of passed out drunks and the crew was finally together.

R & I <3

We spent our days eating Thai food, drinking beer, jamming and riding mopeds around the island; everything you could want from a holiday in Thailand. Once we'd recovered from our night with J, we braved Patong, Phuket's notorious area for a night out. Needless to say, we would not choose to return. Somehow, half naked transvestites tucking in their genitals on vibrating platforms and 16-year old strippers dangling from the ceiling, doesn't quite spark my serotonin. It's always interesting to see who ends up there; the middle-aged couples drinking beer in silence are the ones I don't quite understand. I felt a mixture of sadness and surprise watching the scenes play out; the excessive alcohol consumption to assist in the 'enjoyment' of it all was just about the only thing that made sense.

mmm... satisfaction.

So we got caught in a few of the tourist traps but you've got to experience it once, right? We'd found our flow by the end of the holiday and ticked almost everything off the list. L and R booked their tickets to Bali and J and I returned to KL; with a bit of a tan and mango sticky rice in hand, we had a smooth ending to a truly eventful trip.

The last of Laos

The group's down to the original two and J. and I are getting used to not having Lads in every crack and crevice. Suddenly having to research and organize things ourselves, we've entered a rather uncomfortable realm. Usually it's B. with his lonely planet out, giving us directions about how much money we were all going to need for 'this' bus to 'there'. Now it was all up to us, what?
J and I sat on the bus on the way to 4000 islands, it had been an 18 hour journey since Vang Vieng where we'd said goodbye to the troops. The 'guide' at the front of the bus was shouting out the names of various islands between rather loud gibberish that no one understood. We heard '’Don Det’, for young people!' and decided that was our best bet. I looked at J. puzzled 'we're going to the beach right?' I was picturing 4000 sunny islands of paradise with palm trees and pina coladas. 'Jess Laos is Landlocked'.. oh. It turns out over 3000 of the islands are rock formations about the size of my hand, mangroves and mud line the sides of the rivers and the only really affordable island is ‘Don Det’, where we luckily landed ourselves. The other day we floated down tubes joking about how we’d organize our lives on these islands. ‘Grandma can sit on that one in her rocking chair, the rest of the family can go on ‘Don Khong’ (the island attached to ours)’ but the rule is never to cross the bridge. And all our mates would be on ours.’ So that’s a goal to work towards..

Our opinion of the island's changed since we've been here. At first it looks a little run down, hippy joints line the main street from the small beach/ port where the boats arrive, the guesthouses generally consist of a basic room, a bed and a fan, all you need really. The prices are more than the mainland due to import tax, especially the essentials: suncream, crisps and rizzla’s, it’s been difficult. But after a few days here, I have a new found appreciation for the place. We arrived, nackered after 18 hours and still groggy from the valium (a necessity for sleeper buses) and dumped our bags in our bungalow at ‘sunset guesthouse’ where we were paying $3 each a night, steep I know. We settled into the groove of the island pretty fast after a drink and a happy brownie at ‘Adams Bar’, our new favourite hang-out spot. They play any movie you want throughout the day and ‘Get Him to The Greek’ was the chosen one. Halfway through the movie we looked at each other and laughed, after slagging off the brownie it had finally kicked in, and the world was a happy place that then got happier after a munchathon of snickers, ice cream and all that good cholesterol building munch. It was funny sitting next to the roti truck, eyes red, mouths watering, to then bump into our opposites – a Canadian couple that we’d seen on and off since Hanoi where we’d bunked together. They walked passed, eyes red, with a bar of chocolate sticking out of C’s top left pocket. Haha, fate. We went back and paid for our food at Adam’s and were directed towards the managers bedroom. I opened the door to see a crate of marijuana, as she sat on her bed delicately picking the buds. The ‘normality’ of the situation just made me gape. On our return to our bungalow, the local insect community decided to welcome us and J. got fully involved in the mosquito war as the cockroaches proceeded to crawl out of the toilet seat, and the bins, and the windows. I lay still, on our bed, feeling the beats of the fan and taking deep breaths through the stifling heat. Our mosquito net was full of holes that kind of matched the holes in our walls and ceiling. The smell from the bathroom was getting too much so J. cello-taped all the cracks in the room, opened the windows and soon joined me, knocked out by the heat, we both lay there in heated dreams.
The next day started with our groups tradition, ‘coffee and Cigarrettes’ (roll the ‘R’ as you say it). A meditation and a swim in the lagoon later we’d rented bicycles and were off across the rickety bridges, bumpy roads and into the bamboo forests that were covered in ash from all the recent burning (they burn the bamboo/ foliage every year to fertilize the ground and make space for new crops). We discovered the waterfalls that gushed around us. They weren’t as ‘serene’ as Luang Prabang but the jagged rocks gave the place a pre-historic feel, dinosaurs would have made the scene complete. After a dip in the top of the waterfalls we made our way down to the bottom, passing a dark sunkissed man that sat inbetween two windswept rods of bamboo that made the perfect border around him. The colours were sandy and the heat was strong, it felt like we were in a desert, and the thought of my empty bottle of suncream made my skin glow. We walked down and found a few other backpackers baking on the beach. The swells in the water were strong and little whirlpools formed all over the place. The sun slowly sank and we cycled to the ‘viewpoint’ before heading back. Never have I seen such a vast expanse of sky and water, it was so still and serene with one or two long boats disturbing the flat water with a ripple or two – the pictures don’t do it justice. We rode back as the sun went down, spotting mini wind-tornado’s that swept up the dry leaves and dust. A full day in the sun had taken it’s toll, we’d stop now and then for breaks as our legs tingled and the world spun. We got back, realizing J. had lost his shirt, and after getting into a new one we met our Canadian couple for a long awaited dinner. The conversation flowed and lead to a game of kings cup, a drunken go at pool and an after party at the beach. Huddles of people crowded in the dark around little candles that had been dotted all over the beach. The flower fumes soon got too much and food was in order. 4 mad-eyed teenagers rampaged around town, asking every person, restaurant and shop if they had any food, we managed to scavenge yogurt, 6 baguettes and chocolate sauce – result. As we got back to our guesthouse we opened the bamboo barrier to get in and I jumped as the buffalo immediately herded their way inside, followed by a pack of barking dogs. We looked at each other in fear and slowly, with panicked eyes we walked back to our bungalow, arriving without a scratch.
The next day was ‘mong-day’, one of a few. We bought a bowl of flowers' that cost less than a bar of chocolate, and ended the day with a social drink at '4000 islands bar’ and a few familiar faces. We decided activities were in need and booked a kayaking trip for 8am the next morning with a group we’d hooked up with. With minutes to spare we jumped out of bed, having missed our alarm and made our way to breakfast that was part of the package. Somewhere between before and after breakfast, J’s shoes were stolen, so he walked barefooted towards the kayaks by the port. We hopped into double kayaks and headed down the lagoon, past the buffalo’s lapping water inbetween mangroves. ‘Check out those Pigs having sex!’ J. screamed out, motioning towards the river bank, the Japanese kayakers beside us roaring in laughter. We stopped at the small waterfalls that we’d been to a few days before, had a little cool down and hopped back in our kayaks to head to lunch. There were huge wooden contraptions all over the place that were used everywhere for catching catfish. The animal diversity isn’t big here, but they do have a lot of lizards. When we stopped for lunch we were greeted by little kids running around. A lot of the little boys held wooden sticks with a circle of plastic string at the end – used for catching lizards. As painful as it was watching them squash and throw around these lizards, it did make me smile seeing kids playing in nature as opposed to sitting in a cybercafé. We ate lush watermelon, banana’s and fried rice before hopping back in the water and kayaking to the border of Cambodia. At the border the guide told us all to stop rowing and look up, there we sat, in silence, as the Irrawaddy dolphins glided in and out of the water infront of us. They were eventually steered away by the motor boats that joined us but it was such an incredible moment that none of us expected would happen. We made our way to the ‘biggest cascade of waterfalls in south east asia’ that required a tuk tuk ride and a walk. As we arrived I look over at the rock with the best view to see a crowd of monks all in light orange attire admiring the waterfall. Behind them was white serenity. Foaming water over jagged grey rocks – we ran up to the rock with the monks and looked down, 2 bloated dogs floated beneath us, smashing against the sharp rocks in time to the waterfall’s blows. It was enough of a warning sign to remind us of the waterfall’s strength. After everyone had enough photo’s, we headed back to the river, where I made friends with a group of little girls – losing a wet towel to the current in the process :s. We arrived back, exhausted and sunburnt. We had a group dinner and a few flower fumes for ‘L’s last night’ as he slowly lay down with a smile after a happy brownie or two... The night ended typical J&J style, the only sounds that could be heard were the crunches of crisps and the rustling of packets.
We’d planned a mong day but made the effort to adventure on – renting tubes to float down the river, hopefully not missing the ‘last stop’ and ending up like the dogs at the bottom of the waterfalls that lay ahead. J. had bought a $1.50 bottle of tiger whiskey for St. Paddy’s day (on the bottle it read ‘Sweet and Mellon instead of ‘Mellow’, if they couldn’t spell their slogan right, was the percentage of alcohol wrong too?), the bottle was soon gone as it slipped through his hands and towards the muddy bottom in a matter of a minutes – probably best.
We fought the current and gave up, ending up back at the main port in a new group of people who we spent the rest of the night with at the ‘Herb Garden Party’ out in the rice fields. We all showered up and the boys sorted out their lost room key. It turns out they don’t have any spares here, so the manager walked up to the door, squeezed the lock, and it popped open. Fab security. Hair styles were all decided upon and the party begun with many rounds of ’21, bing bang boom, grunt’ etc. all managed without a deck-o-cards. Pizza was all baked in their make-shift clay oven, and the ‘unlimited till 9’ booze was in the bucket in the corner. The toilet was nifty, made out of bamboo with a bin of rice kernels to scoop in after your business was done. The host of the party was a couple that had been here for a year and looked a little loony. She was doing all the admin and looked at us with glazed eyes and huge pupils, her voice dragging out every word. We sat in a group and ‘Manny’ the manager of ‘Happy Bar’ walked over to us, a J in his hand and a cricket on his leg – his new friend, that was soon transferred to K. for the rest of the night (he stopped freaking out after 20 minutes). The dogs that continuously scratched their fleas all over the place proved to be a bit more of a nuisance than the cricket.. We woke up with a hang-over and it turned into another mong-day, lying comfortably in one bar and walking lazily to the next, waking ourselves up with a jolt as we jumped off the 5m plank outside ‘Reggae Bar’ into the Mekong. Tomorrow our Visa runs out so we’ve got to jump the border to Cambodia then.
I can’t believe we’re here already, our time with the lads in Vang Vieng went so fast, here goes an attempt at summing it up..
Vang Vieng was amazing. One day was spent at the swimming pool, hoping to get in without a ticket but having to buy one anyway, boys hanging their goods out over the rails to poor freaked out tourists on long boats, after-sun sessions and fish and chips for dinner, learning about Jn’s mayo obsession in all its glory. One day a huge group of us went cycling to the waterfalls that we never found, arriving home and looking for my wallet, (containing $400 and my debit card), that was never found and having group dinners in front of family guy or friends. The day after was a day for women – whether it was labour day or international womens day I don’t know, but it was awesome – women stumbling over each other by the Mekong, tubing down the river, completely.pissed. It was nice seeing the girls let loose for a change, stumbling men get boring after a while.. Showers were wasted in this weather as perspiration was endless. One night we agreed on fancy dress, pulling together the few scraps we had in our limited wardrobe for ‘Jungle Party’. The night started in the Irish Bar with some incredibly strong drinks, a few games of 21, a bonfire and a rave. The night ended with drunk kisses, tears and a sore heart... Feeling alone in someone’s company being the shittiest parts of travelling away from home... ‘Jn. the stripper’ lightened the mood, followed by a tied up T. a drunk Frenchman in the shower and a tomato on our ceiling – living with Lads is a laugh. The card was sorted out the next morning, and yet another trip to the police station was called for to get a report written – it was fast and efficient, the police here being 10x more helpful than in Vietnam. The night that followed was my last of being 18, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. We played darts at the Irish bar, danced at Buddha bar and shotted tequila at moon bar. 00:00 struck and the DJ played ‘Happy Birthday’ as I squeezed T. and J. for setting it up. That night we met Lala, avoided the creepy little drug dealer and I met my ‘sister’ who had the same ‘going out alter-ego as me’, exciting stuff. After closing time, our room was soon full again, and we somehow chose one phrase to learn in each of our languages, mumbling in Spanish, Dutch, French and Greek, our food hunt at 3am hadn’t been a success but our acquisition of new phrases had! The bedsheets were inked with multi-lingual ‘Happy birthday’s’ that we only remembered in the morning. (‘Neuken in de Keuken op de keukentafel’ is how you say our phrase in Dutch, if you were wondering ;) ) Daytime came, the police report was picked up and a big breakfast at the Irish Bar was called for. Cake and pressie time came around (& a free bottle of lao wine!) and I laughed as most of them had a message about ‘not losing anything’ on them.. we hopped in a tuk tuk and headed to the blue lagoon. Seeing an older group on the way who’d just falled off their bicycles and scraped a knee made us cringe as we thought back to a few weeks ago. The blue lagoon was beautiful, we floated in rings and swung off swings, ‘No smoking Weed’ signs scattered the place, a volleyball court to the left and a few metres above lay ‘Gollum’s cave’ that we explored for hours. At one point we all stopped to break, and got to know the guys we were walking with. Coincidentally we’re all sharing the same Halls at Leeds Uni – the world only gets smaller. We finally reached the lagoon again, just in time to watch a huge English guy jump from the highest branch of the tree, do a backflip and land perfectly in the rubber ring floating beneath him, it was the cherry on top of an amazing day. By the end of it, we were spent and in denial about leaving so we decided to stay an extra day while time was still on our side. Night time involved authentic pineapple crumble and a movie in bed.. our last night together.

Morning time came and adrenaline was ON. Coffee, cigarettes, packing, paying the manager who we’d never met, breakfast at the Irish bar (a last steak baguette), goodbyes, facebook details, bus station. Tears were shed as the family hugged goodbye and their bus headed away from us and towards Thailand. I looked forward to the video of my naked welsh choir singing ‘Happy Birthday’ with smiles on their faces, something that hadn’t happened the day before! J. and I boarded the hot sweaty bus, craving a cold shower. We had to be sensible and responsible now, checking for our passports and money as we arrived in Vientiene, the capital of Laos. We had a quick dinner, getting discounts for the cockroach in J’s soup, and got on the luxury double bed sleeper bus that had 4 bunks, passing out and arriving in Pakse for the last bus to 4000 islands. Soon we’ll be able to say been there Don Det but we’re gonna try and squeeze our visa’s dry and enjoy the last few hours before that time comes, Thank you Laos and family. x
 
 
Recipe of the day: Lao Green Curry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBKaeNiDldE