Day 43 - Beach bum day

As the name suggets the day was spent doing as little as possible. Being washed up on the beach by the big waves and during the hottest part of the day relaxing on the roof top room thing. The owner of the beach house introduced us to a game popular in India, the game uses a large board 2ft by 2 ft and some discs that you try to pot into holes in each corner of the playing board. It is like snooker but with discs. After each shot you grab the equivalent of the white ball and position it on your side of the square board. You flick the disc with your finger and if all goes well it hits one of the coloured discs and you pot it. Like snooker different coloured discs have different values. It seems im completely rubbish at the game, the stupid discs defy the laws of physics common sense and newtons third law of thermodynamics, and, for that reason Laura, a woman, was good. I potted two discs the owner (clearly an olympic champion at the sport) potted about 15 and Laura (clearly a complete cheat somehow) potted about 10. I think my side of the board needed talc'ing up as something was clearly wrong. I pretended I needed to upload a blog entryto save myself another round of humiliation and we all called it a draw (in my head). The owner agreed to take us into town with him to get some cash and some essentials. One of them being alcohol.
The town center is a roundabout. We are on the island of Vyppen next to Fort Kochin there is a bunch of villages one main road down the center of it and a few temples. We grab money, some snacks and, being a generally dry area we head to one of the government approved 'drink shops'. Like a dispensary for needles the lowest of the low are waiting outside queuing patiently in makeshift queue lanes made out of wire and old television cable. I blend in like a morris dancer in a reggae club unaware what the translation for a bottle of nice spiced dark rum,  and two bottles of red chianti is. I'd have settled for non spiced rum and even a dry white wine. Unfortunatly this shop was geared to homeless drinkers and the type of person that would pay for another bottle of alcohol over his insulin. I took the rum made from brent crude oil and some wine / port / paint stripper concoction.  All came in plastic bottles and cost a total of £10. So far so good. We hadnt tried it yet though.

Another swimming session in the sea and before long the sun was setting and we were heading for another home cooked meal. Curried prawns from the backwaters and an assortment of spicy vegetables and chutneys. 

That evening, we started on the 'wine'. I thought things like this were tested on animals,  clearly this one missed that stage of the development process. If a wine taster were to put this in their mouth they'd not say "Cheeky little number, delecate on the palate..." going on to describe the region the grapes and the chateau which made it famous. ..no they'd uppercut you in the chin and try to smash the plastic bottle over your head. It was offensive. Luckily, after a couple of rums it could have been Crystale. I lost at cards about 20 times to complete my streak for the day. Tomorrow was an early start. We were going on a tour, a backwater house boat ride then a canal ride. We needed to be up at 7.

Plodding through the mud and dead things round the backwaters of Vyppen island.

The open air upstairs of the beach house. Very chilled.

Day 42 - Strikes day 2

We had intended to do some excursions today, starting with a trip to 'the backwaters', an area in Kerala where the sea levels have created a small collection of islands, towards the land the water is fresh, from rivers and it is turned to brine as it gets closer to the sea. Unfortunately  India decided to have a nationwide strike, with most of India ground to a halt as people went to work anyway, Kerala on the other hand was taking part in the strike, with people going round threatening anyone that dared to open with arson or broken windows. This meant that not only could we not do an excursion, but we couldn't really leave our Beach House as there was no rickshaws, or taxis. We booked another night and made the most of the beach, great food and company.

By now we had some more guests staying at the beach house, an Norwegian interpreter that worked translating computer games while he travelled (living the dream or what !), two girls from Austria one started training to be a police woman, but stopped due to the pressure and mad working environment of being in the force. I think she was fired for something illicit, but she smiled laughed nervously when I said this. I think I hit the nail on the head. Her friend was a budding property tycoon already renting out a lake side apartment at the age of 21. Shortly after, two more ladies turned up from Sweden one of them was a Ferry captain she suffers from sea sickness. She also didn't know what the bottom of the boat was called, but she had lost two mobile phones by dropping in it, a space between the floor of the boat and the hull. (The Bilge).

We all sat round the dining table and talked about travelling, while we tucked into King Fish and various other bits and pieces. The food is stunning. It was about 5 minutes before the conversation turned to the shits, illness and all the parts of travelling that they never show on Palin. Laura was mocking the fact that I don't have a problem using the 'small shower head' thing to give my hoop a quick blast after having a 'movement'. I think it is cleaner than just smearing with paper, I do however have a quick 'inspection dab' with bog roll which also dries the area. This is how you clean plates - water to clean and wipe dry. I have never seen someone wipe a plate with a kitchen towel and be happy to eat off of it. Not that you butt needs to be able to eat off of it... You know what I mean.

As you can see the strikes caused widespread panic and large picket lines

You should have seen the size of that fish "It was this big..."

Walking down the road you know you are going to have to say hello 15 times in this scene

Day 41 - WiFi hunt

I have suffered for two days with no WiFi and even though I like to think that I'm pretty good at roughing it, I'm struggling. I believe that there is essentials to life, these are :  water, shelter, food and at least 5mb broadband, ideally delivered via WiFi. Without these, mainly the WiFi, I'm stuck. You may as well stick me up a creak without a boat, and just give me a paddle. In fact with a laptop, DSLR camera, and my smart phone, you may as well give me an outboard motor, a paddle, and a set of skis... but easy on the boat. So like someone talking about the fountain of youth, or the lost city of Atlantis, a fellow traveller staying in the same beach house, said he had heard of a place, a beach cafe, that not only sold beers, but had WiFi. I gripped his collar and pinned him to the wall "Where Man ? Where ? Spit it out!"

Just  a small 6km walk along the beach with my backpack full of laptop, chargers, adapters, phone and my trusty camera. The midday sun is great, and walking 6km to find out that the nationwide strikes that are taking place also caused the beach cafe to close make it even better. At least we have been healthy and walked and seen some of the area. We decide (well I decide after whinging about being sun burnt) that walking along the road with its patchy shade would be better, and it would take less time than walking along the beach. The only drawback is the countless cute kids, all saying "hi, how are you", I didn't forget to leave off the question mark, they don't expect you to answer, when you do they giggle and talk to each other, clearly mocking the pasty turd sweating like a maraton runner. Every 20m there is another child waiting for you to get within earshot before they start grinning. It is cute the first 30 times.

As soon as we arrive back at the beach house, Laura says "Swim in the sea?" Within 2 minutes we are  jumping about in the water like a mad frogs. Fair play to Laura, she isn't afraid of the waves, even though she seems unable to stop water going up her hooter. I tried to point out that slowly expelling air out of it stops water going up, humming to yourself through your nose is all the air you need to push out to save your self from a sore bugle...It appears that being a teacher requires you to be good at teaching and not necessarily learning, as she seemed to actively suck the seawater up her nose. After inhaling about 2 litres we called it a day and walked the 20m back to the beach house where a fresh watermelon drink was waiting along with a friendly smile from our host Kuruvilla, I call him Paul as I have no hope of saying a name like that.

Before food was served we decided to burn 45 minutes by walking around the 'block' this means a walk along the back water / paddy field things, these are large man made lakes where people farm shrimps, crabs, fish and, by the looks of it, flip flops. We wander round saying hello to everyone, and taking pictures of everything.

Fisherman posing team in full swing.

Beach display team perfecting some moves.

 Cheer leaders egging on the display team

It's a crab from Laura's pants.

Day 40 - Kuzhupilly Beach House

I think that if you fancy a break, a great host and a relaxed atmosphere like no other, you can't go wrong with this place. There is nobody on the beach apart from the odd fisherman wandering up and down holding hit net over his arm watching for the wake of little fish, then lobbing it in with the skill that only countless generations of fishing tradition can manage. The fact that all he seems to catch is a size 8 left flip flop isn't a reflection of his efforts, skill level or passion for the art of fishing.

The beach hostel / house thing is about 20m from the sea, and if you open your balcony door you can hear the waves crashing. The sunsets are spectacular and about an hour after it has set the host and his wife (mainly his wife) have a big home cooked meal served up. The moment you look like you are about to finish something, your rice for example, a spoon appears by your right ear ready to ladle some more onto your plate. The trick is you have to finish just enough that you show that you clearly liked it, however you have to leave a little bit to show you couldn't eat it all. I find leaving food difficult, ( coming from a family with 5 brothers) my mum would cook big meals however she would put them in a bowl in the middle of the table for us all to dig in, leaving anything on your plate is a sign of weakness and like vultures you'd miss out on a tasty lamb chop if you looked like you were flagging. Darwin would be proud of my family set up.

The top floor of the Beach House is open, there is a kitchen, some hanging chairs, a couple of 'chill out beds' and a large dining table. It is perfect, there is a sea breeze blowing through, you can hear the sea the birds and the laughing of kids playing on the beach. Apparently people come and stay here for months on end, they write, paint, and generally relax. One artist (a guy from the Ukraine who's name looks like Mohammed Ali typed 'War and Peace' in the font Windings) stayed in his room for three months while he was here and just popped his head out of his room to eat.

A couple of fisherman on the backwaters

A washed up Manatee

This is how clear the nights sky is. Points for the constellation, bonus for the stellar object I'm trying to capture.

A kingfisher in mid flight. They are as rare as hen's teeth, so capturing one in focus in flight is as rare as rocking horse poo.

This is the obligatory sunset picture from the beach about 30 seconds walk from the door of the beach house.

We have started a habit, albeit for the three days we are staying in this Beach House, wake up whenever, have breakfast, jump about in the sea, back for a siesta, coffee while we email / blog etc and the hottest part of the day goes, then back to the sea, jump about and back for a shower then dinner. I don't know how I have time to fit all this activity into one day. I'm going to need a diary to manage my time.

Day 39 - Perv. Beach

After a morning snooze Laura and I packed our stuff, and as she wasn't tired, we decided to move away from Fort Cochin, as it was a bit boring, great if you like watching fighting, and Gelatos but apart from that there isn't much there. Before heading off I introduced Laura to the big Chinese fishing nets, and while we were there we spotted a couple of men fishing with weighted fishing nets, it is impressive, one was wearing a 'Ronaldo' football shirt, traditional dress in these parts.

We booked a ferry from Cochin to the island of Vypin once there we were going to head to a beach and I can finally get my swim on. And catch some rays, I'm still pretty much the same colour as I was when I left Wales which is a pasty alabaster talcum powder white, I think I reflect more light than actually hits me. To make the epic 30km journey we start on a ferry, the distance to travel is about 100m if it wasn't for the camera, clothes, laptop and phone, I'd swim it, however for 5p the ferry will take you across in the luxury only a fish market skip could match. The ferry is used by cars and vans too, and for the minute that the journey takes the drivers sit there waiting patiently, however within 0.5 seconds of arriving on the jetty, they are tooting their horns to get off, to help you picture this, there are  8 cars on the ferry, you'd think it was a 5 mile traffic jam the way they are all jostling to get ahead.

I haggle a Rickshaw down and we head off tooting at everything and trying to overtake anything that is ahead regardless of blind corners and oncoming traffic all while being on the phone. On arrival the 'Resort' looks nice, and is 50m from the sea. We throw our bags in the room and head for the beach. There is big waves, and quite a few locals, just standing about looking at the white people, then you notice some are taking photos 'on the sly' of the women lying there, it is pretty bad.

Regardless we both hop into the sea and get thrown about by the waves, slowly a bigger crowd starts to form, all staring waiting for Laura to get out of the water so they can have a perve and probably take some snaps with their phones. I get a towel and hand it to Laura as she gets out and I could almost hear the groan of 50 odd Indian men thinking "GIT!" It is pretty bad, there is nothing wrong with a crafty look at someone you find attractive, but they were just being rude. I think if they were doing it to an Indian wife, they'd have been told off by the husband. I, on the other hand just liked ruining their fun, standing in the way when someone was trying to take a sneaky picture.
After the beach we headed back to the room to have a shower and start exploring our 'resort', some of the other rooms are on small 'islands' on the backwaters, they look nicer so I start getting room envy, but this soon stops when I realise that there is hoards of mosquitoes waiting to pounce as you step out. We suss out a bar, and order some rum and cokes, and a couple of bottles of wine,
 "No wine, No rum."
"Ok, what do you have ?"
 "Beer."
"Ok two bottles of Heineken."
"Only Fosters."
"Ok, two bottles of Fosters."
He was a great barman, he turned a sentence into a 5 minute long conversation.  Happily the beers, were only about £2 for large bottles, which is insulting over here, but pretty good for Brits. I got tipsy, as we had food, a great selection of random stuff for me to taste. I gave 'Steve the gallStone a bashing', and after a crafty beer on the beach went back to the room and fell into a coma.

A bird on the backwaters

Perfect moment for an overtaking maneuver

Ronaldo's mate catching some flip flops

Ronaldo removing a flip flop from his net.

Day 38 - Flip Flop beach

Apart from seeing a fight between a rickshaw driver and a tour guide while I supped on a banana yoghurt shake it was an uneventful day. I did have the best Biryani I have ever had (sorry Syed's missus). I ate it at a road side cafe, where the man serving me literally had feet that faced each other. Look down, point the toes on each of your feet at each other and move your heels so that they are as far apart as possible (with your toes touching), that is what they looked like. If that wasn't enough to make the restaurant memorable there was a dead rat on the other side of the road, being eaten by crows. I would have taken a picture but I thought it was a little offensive for old "hobble-de-hoy", oh, and I didn't take a picture of the rat either.
I did venture down the coast / beach to a point where it said "defence, no trespassing" I was about to take a picture of the coastline beyond the sign when a loud speaker shouted " NO PICTURES!!" A millisecond longer and I'd have had a nice sunset snap. A bunch of locals laughed at me and I started walking back down the beach.

One thing I have noticed scattered all over the beaches, shoes. In a 100m stretch there must be about 100 pairs of foam flip-flops, I think that if they made flip-flops biodegradable, the beaches wouldn't be as honking as they are. As I wandered back I passed a few art exhibits, there is an art college in the area, so there is loads of faces painted on walls etc. It's like nice graffiti.

Walking through a park my phone beeped to let me know that it had picked up a familiar WiFi spot so I stopped and checked various messages, my Blog stats (up to 1700 hits!) and while I was there some lads asked if I could be in their pictures, so, like a smirking goon I had my picture taken with a bunch of 16 year old lads, and they had pictures of a 'white island monkey'. They all wandered off happy with the part of my soul they had stolen with their camera, and I started taking some arty pictures, trying out some new settings and buttons and making it look like I have a clue what I'm doing. I really  don't.

In the evening I try to go and see some traditional dancy thing, but the dance hall appeared to be closed or there wasn't anything going on. Dance is pretty gay anyway. I was only going to go because I thought it might make my blog appeal to a wider audience, oh well.

A painted log pathetic really.

An attempt at some 3D art crevasse thing

Central Park

A fallen tree

A couple talking about 'us' as a honking great dredger passes by, this is the stuff Romeo and Juliet was written about

Day 37 - Kerala Day one

I'm in the area of Kerala, more accurately, I'm in an area called Cochin Fort, the end of a peninsula, that seems a bit of a hotspot for backpackers and old school hippies taking time out from their FTSE 500 companies to 'find themselves'. In fairness they are all pretty good fun, but not the types to share a 'spacial shake' with. I have been hunting for a beach shack for a few hours and I think I have found the area that I need to be in. Laura is a teacher from the UK, she has a week off from teaching 8 year old cockneys and striking over pension reforms so will be joining me for a week, she has travelled the world over about 100 times and will probably let me know how I should be going around the country, I'm looking forward to her insights and advice, she will arrive at 6 am tomorrow morning, so I'll have to sit down with her and see what she would like to do, if she has a preference of backwater tour for a couple of days, or a beach lounge about.

I'd like to do some swimming, and, if possible turn this nice shade of red into something resembling a tan.But apart from that I don't really mind, I'm paying less than the cost of a bottle of coke for a meal, and I'm getting a room in a hotel for less than the cost of a meal back home. I think I'm saving money being here !

I had a lazy day and didn't take any pictures but promised myself I'd go Canon mad tomorrow.

Travel extra

In a week I will have no plans again. I'd like suggestions for my next destination. India, Far East... wherever I hope to get more than one response so I'll pick the most interesting fun one.

Day 22 - pre wedding day celebrations.

Early start is needed today. We are going to a pre wedding reception thing where most of the guests will be, then after a couple of hours rest we would be going to a music / food event, the winner of of a national Indian talent competition will be there Mirande Shah, oh and Sameep will be dancing. I put those two things together as seeing them both is that important to me. Sameep has been practising on and off for the last few hours and without fail at some point has come unstuck, so his dance should be interesting. 

We all got tarted up and look pretty good, I look especially tidy in my Indian long shirt thing. I have forgotten the name of it and after asking Sameep's mother three times it is embarrassing to ask yet again,  I don't want to look like a complete Western idiot so I'll just say 'long shirt thing.'

After the obligatory pre drive photo shoot we all headed in cars to a sports and social place that has a function room.

When we arrive there is hundreds of new faces and names to forget Sameep patiently introduced me to everyone and I smile and nod, attempting to make a joke or two within the boundaries set by taste, international etiquette, using broken English and trying not to mention any of my colourful exploits over the last few weeks. One that works well is for when they ask if I like the food, I stick my belly out like a fat guy and say "no" with a cheeky smile. After a bite to eat there is a singer some more schmoosing and we are heading back to The Palace for a siesta.


The next function was an evening do, that involved the music and Sameeps dance, it required a drive into what seemed like a rural area, but thanks to a clear night, the north star and a bit of luck we found it.

                Iran's got talent                                                                               Wrexham's got talent

As it turns out it was an area of ground that was lit up with a thousand candles and had food everywhere, coloured cloth draped across the open air eating area, and, at the side of it, in font of hundreds of people, a dance floor. Sameep went pale and I beamed with glee. I mingled while Sameep popped to find the dance partners for a last minute rehearsal. 2minutes later he was back "mate, that isn't the stage, check this out," round the corner was a real stage. Rigged lighting, 12 x 12 foot screen as a backdrop, smoke matching even a boom operated camera!!! Brilliant. Sameep went from a pale tanned Indian colour to pure Honkey white. For some reason he wanted to practise the dance more than ever. After more mingling and being introduced to many random people I met the Groom. Tall, slim, and a Colgate smile. I'm glad he is getting married, he's too good looking to be single, and it sounds impossible, but standing next to him I looked ugly. I'm still taller though, that's something I suppose!?

I spent the next hour trying nearly every food that I could find space for, before long music started and people moved to the mini Wembley stadium ready for the entertainment provided by members of the family, friends and there was even singing by the bride's father. Sameep did his stint on the dance floor despite deciding to get a Henna tattoo on his hand 5 minutes before dancing, he and the rest of the dance troop were flawless and only upstaged by the great voice and stage presence of Mirande Shah.

 Sameep doing the 'shimmy' part of the dance.

 Someone 'tagged' my hand after I left it unattended for 5 minutes.

Sameep cleverly getting the palm of his hand painted before going to dance...with a partner.

I think she won India's got talent or something like that. There was lots of singing dancing and laughing. I tried to take photographs dance and not look too out of place. A difficult thing to do when you are three shades whiter, a foot taller and dance like a drunk epileptic. The music eventually stopped and we headed for the car.

I love the idea of friends and family performing, most of the dances were based on the bride and grooms relationship and they all told a story. I tried to imagine the artistically talentless mates of mine bumbling about the dancefloor or singing to my family offending everyone with their 'dulcet's'. Some things just can't be transferred from one country to another.
As soon as I got in I was asleep it was a long day and a lot had happened.

Day 21 - Pre wedding preparations

This morning were going to go to a family members house for food. It is a tradition that for a week proceeding the wedding, meals are all taken at this house. I guess it is a bonding process and also allows any wedding plans to be discussed. For me it is a nice way to get bombarded with names faces and small branches of a family tree that, when seen in its entirety would look like a Giant Redwood wrapped in Ivy. I smile and nod a lot, for some reason my normally bad memory for names is terrible. I'm literally remembering nobody.
Everyone is friendly and really welcoming I'm starting to see a pattern in the questions...the usual where are you from, then "what do you think of our food?" (I do actually like it)  everyone seems surprised that I can handle the mild levels of spice they are giving me. Little do they know I used to deliver curries for the Barry Balti in my Mg Metro, the perk of the job was a free meal every night. I was using 'chicken Phals' as eyewash after a year of that job.
After breakfast we headed back to the palace to pick out clothes and get something that would fit my 'athletic' but long frame. Not your standard Indian body type. I bought some smart shirts a pair of black 'slacks' and and I was loaned a 'shurwani' a sort of long Indian style shirt that stops just above the knee. A man arrived to iron the clothes the shoes were cleaned and before long we were ready to head back for dinner at the food house. The morning would be taken up with a ceremony / brunch then an evening do at which sameep would be dancing at. It is sort of a pre wedding brunch followed by a pre wedding reception. The real wedding ceremony would take place the day after.

Day 20 - India, the home of the corner shop.

After a comfortable flight near the emergency exit and some great plane food I was waiting for my connecting flight to Ahmedabad a place further north west. Even though the connecting flight was with the same company you cave to collect your bag. Walk through a scanner before heading to the pre departure scanner. Where your bag is scanned and sent to the next scanner while you are checked over with a magic wand which beeps and whistles warning the user of the presence of metals which is all ignored. You are waved on with the magic wand and you head to the door scanner where you repeat the process. Once on board the bus which will take you from international arrivals to internal connections you sit and wait, this is to feed the mosquitos and get you sweating.
The bus takes you to the other terminal where you get frisked scanned and pass onto passport / boarding pass control. For security reasons your bag is scanned and you are checked for metals, the presence of which is ignored. There is a woman only queue but they don't seem to notice men using it which does make you wonder if they are very observant. We had time for a crafty bite to eat before we were on another plane after a quick once over by security of course. An hour later we were met by one of Sameeps nephews, imagine a Bollywood star. It's him. He drives us up the wrong side of the roads tooting his horn whenever he blinks or breathes (I think that's how it works) however I feel like he is a good driver. Before lone we are at his family house the street doesn't do this palace justice. The family are architects and interior designers. The house is over 4 floors with the ground floor devoted to the business. I have taken photos of the house but wherever you look there is a new texture or surface that catches your eye. The house is almost as nice as the welcome I get from he rest of the family. What a great bunch of people. The 'tree of life' on the staircase is a great feature lit by my favourite diode. The light emitting one. It is late so after a quick tour of the house I'm shown my room and I crash out. What a long day.

Day 19 - Back to Bangkok.

Feeling a little drunk / hungover / off our trumpet we  hopped on a taxi. It is like a 4 wheeled Tuktuk. Open back, random' taxi buddies' and they attempt warp speed whenever faced with anything resembling a straight. The days travelling should follow this simple, 'easy to do after a night on the piss' method. Ferry to the mainland.  Busses from there to the bus depot, bus to the Airport, taxi from the airport to our place of choice. I won't bore you with no legroom details but we arrived in Bangkok with me requiring traction and a shifty beer. It was nice to be back in the relative tranquility of Bangkok. Sameep and I decided to get our shopping done he wanted some football shirts and I decided that Lucas (my mad but great brother ) would appreciate a 110,000v tazer / flashlight. If there is a power cut you need a light and nobody likes finding a dangerous bull elephant in their house while looking for the fuse box so I figured this would kill two birds with one excessive amount of voltage. After taking Sameep's 'Jew' lead I started haggling, offering 10% of the asking price then following their offended shouts with "give me your best price", in turn they would lie about their best price price and I'd follow it up with a sob story about not being able to afford my next meal. I'm starting to think that the old saying 'Get a girl to laugh and you are half way there' may also be true for haggling. After spending £8 on an illegal offensive weapon and three friendship bands for my nephew and nieces I was set.   We planned one last mad one, but settled for cocktails and an early night. The following day we were flying to India!!!

Day 18 - Full moon party !!!!!!

Team Lickity Splits woke 'earlyish' I was ok, not 100%, maybe 75% Sameep had decided to follow my expert doctors advice, I supplied him with Immodium and a large bore cork. The type you would use to bung a 'demi john', or a hole in the Titanic. Lewis on the other hand decided that his body was now a temple, I can only think that his temple had been the focus of a Jihad style attack, and that he wouldn't take pills as it was bad, Amy informed me he 'sharted' (shit+fart= shart) later that day as he ran to the toilet. I wish I was joking, poor lad.

Sameep and I had booked our ferry / flights / buses etc to get from the island to Bangkok. We would be leaving at 06:15 in the morning... no point sleeping really, we may as well travel off our trumpets on shakes and buckets. A plan was formed.

Most of the day was spent round the pool, playing ball and cocking about. After a short while an attractive blond and her 'bubbly' mate asked us for a game of vollyball in the pool using an archway that crossed part of the pool as a net, I offered to be on team 'Bubbly' and within moments I realised that the blonde girl had no voice, I joked saying I should have learnt sign language and threw some flappy hand movements up to add visuals to the joke... She replied in perfect sign and mouthed the words "I speak sign language"... crap I just took the piss out of a hot deaf person. I didn't know you had hot deaf people, they always seemed ugly in real life wore massive hearing aids and crappy bullet proof glasses. I tried to have a conversation with them both, making sure I pronounced my words well and faced her so she could read my lips. The problem is that when you are concious of someone lip reading you speak like a deaf person... IEEEMMMM FRROOMMMM WAAAALLLLELESSSS, I did the idiots sign for a blow hole, to help her, she was from America after all, Sameep asked how she had lost her voice, apparently she had been partying a little too hard. I'm so smooth.

I cut my losses and went to talk to the Irish lads that had started drinking by the pool. Yes, the same lads had drank enough shakes to bring down a Rhino the other day, we tried to add each other on facebook and gave up after realising that the WiFi by the pool was going up and down like a Kangaroo on a pogo stick.

Sameep and I had decided over a board meeting that we needed to get 'Douched up'. Luminous shorts, crappy vest tops and then get the face paint on, so we went shopping / haggling for the most stupid clothes we could find, luckily there is lots to choose from. A bite to eat from our Hostel a quick change into something rediculous, and we were off. The beach was packed, lasers, fireworks, douchbags, and music everywhere. Even though i knew i woukd have to be traveliing for 6 hours the following day i prepared for the worst and made sure i didnt take my phone cards or anything of any value. In face the clothes i was wearing were ideal i could be stripped of everything and still only be about £10 down. If you exclude my streed cred. Which, like a fabergei egg, is priceless. The night was fun, dancing music more dancing, drinking etc I did have the continual worry that in a few hours I'd be facing an epic journey back to Bangkok. Time slipped away and before you knew it we were grabbing our last few things getting ready to wait for our taxi. We whispered "cheereo" to the dorm buddies hot sheila was missing so no doubt naked somewhere flashing parts of her body only a doctor should see. It is now morning so technically the start of a new blog entry... therefore it shall be.

Day 17 - Lickity Splits

Well it appears that whatever I ate before during or after the fight disagreed with my stomach and it appears that, combined with my cold I will be spending the day in bed or on the crapper. The good thing is that toilet paper may as well be made from Pander hair here, it is as rare as rocking horse poo.... now bare with me, that sounds like a bad thing, however every toilet comes with a pressure washer like shower hose / head mounted on the wall . You use this to fire a blast of supersonic ice cold water on your honking 'nipsy'. If you are currently faced with the ability to crap through a sponge, then you will know how much like a brillo pad toilet paper can feel after your 8-9th wipe. A quick pressure wash of the 'rusty sherrif's' badge is not only cleaner than smothering your back end with paper but it is more comfortable, a blow dryer would be the ideal way to finish off the experience, but not all luxuries are available.
After about 8-9 times, I decided to ignore peoples warnings that Immodium just keeps the bad bacteria in your body, and therefore isn't the ideal way to deal with a stomach problem. I thought I could spend all day running from one 3rd world Karzi to another or I can actually have an alright day and just have an early night. I was in no fit state to go to the Jungle Party that was taking place later that evening. Rob and Amy were well up for it, but with the cold I had been fighting, the squits and the general crappyness I was feeling, I couldn't bare to do anything. I spent the day round the pool / toilet  / hostel, and in the evening I made the decision to stay in regardless of what my right hand man Sameep was doing, luckily he couldn't face an evening out either. There is nothing worse than a night in when someone else goes out, Sameep is one of those people that always comes back with a story, an adventure, something that makes you wished you threw your dialysis machine to one side, threw caution to the wind, roared into three buckets and two shakes before dancing the quick step into a mosquito bitten loo for a few hours.

I watched the Expendibles 2 and wished I was too ill to operate my laptop.

I got sent a picture of me smoking a shisha pipe from another traveller that I had met...I'll attach that rather than show you what a typical 'movement' looked like.

A flair for the dramatic.

Day 16 - Muay Thai

I slept pretty well, as you can imagine, apart from one incident where Lewis was carried in to the room by two guys from the dorm above, he apparently had lost the ability to work the key / lock and had decided to fall asleep on the floor outside, lucky for him he was now a local hero, for waking up on another island, and the guys knew where he needed to be. After quietly putting him into his bunk the guys decided to have a nice loud chat in the middle of the dorm, it is worth noting that we were gaining new room mates all the time, and a couple were on a bed opposite, they looked chuffed to bits about the interruption to their sleep.

The morning came and went, and by noonish I was up and ready for food. Over in the hostel bar they do a good coffee and a natter, so we headed over there to check emails, skype, whatsapp, facebook etc, it is a busy bustling office of gossip, and exaggerated stories from the night before. Our new room mates consisted of two Oz girls one is more chatty than the other, the less chatty one is really hot young but hot, I shall call her Hot Sheila. The couple, Amy and Rob, Amy is a pretty'girl next door'. big eyes and loads of freckles (mum used to tell me that freckled were where the sun had kissed me, it is a nice way of saying she had failed to shade me from the cancerous UV rays) Amy regularly laughs at my attempt at humour so I'd marry her tomorrow if it wasn't for beefcake Rob, a man's man that I later find out doesn't do anything in small measures...you are having a bucket of alcohol  he'll have two, you are having a 'shake' he'll smash three of them and a bucket. Good lad. 

Luckily for us all, Amy is sensible and can carry a camera, knows when to stop drinking and can often be heard 'tutting' under her breath as Rob dribbles into his 4th bucket with a smile on his face. 

During the extended board meeting we decided that a repeat of yesterday, while fun would cost a small fortune and is probably not too good for your body, so we opted to go to the Thai boxing fight that was being held just out of town about 20 mins walk from us. It was £3 for back row seats and the beer there wasn't pricey. We headed to the pool and spent the day being calm and catching some sun. Janita, a lone traveller from Holand had come to Koh Phangan, we had met her while having breakfast in Bangkok. From her story she was on a 'journey' like mine, getting away from 'life' to clear her head and have a break. She had decided to come to the full moon party and thanks to Sabina the landlady she was staying about 50 m down the road in another hostel for the night, so we had a new member of 'Team Hostel'

Throughout the day we ate a drank fluids preparing us for a quiet 'family night' watching a few people beat 50 shades of shit out of each other, starting with the kids section, kids as young as 15-16. It looks pretty hard core, but the ref was careful with the kids, more careful than with the adults later. Several matches passed, we all sat there and from time to time screamed, we were all deciding who would win during the pre fight prayers / meditation that all the fighters go through. This ritual consists of touching all the ropes, and giving thanks to each corner, thanking their trainers, Buddha and their family. I used a very technical method to predict the winner based on the Welsh flag and the colour of the fighters shorts with consideration given to the underdog factor. If everyone picked the mean looking guy in blue shorts, I picked red, if someone with green shorts appeared, I picked him. 50% of the time it worked all of the time, I felt like I was cheating with such a great 'system' so I didn't put money on the fights.
The final fight was the one that really stood out. An Israeli guy v a far smaller Thai lad. There must have been 3 (20kg) stone difference and about 3" (7.5cm) of height. The large Israeli population of Phangan's full moon party made a lot of noise, they were jumping up and down, waving flags, and grabbing the mic from the commentator to sing songs. They looked like they were having too much fun and for my Arab comrades I decided to back the smaller Thai guy. I saw one of these lads fight in Phi Phi and they may be small but they are nutters. The fight was a long one, the Israeli was clearly stronger, but less fit, the Thai lad was all over the place, a few punches looked like they'd have knocked out a 'normal' guy but the dopy skinny Thai lad was always back up and ready for the next barrage, then finally in what seemed like the 140th round, the Israeli just gave up. Litrerally, no blood, not even stumbling, he hadn't taken a punch in a while, he just signalled that he'd had enough. What a fanny. The Israeli crowd soon shut up and headed off to drown their sorrows by singing in someone's face and annoying other holidaymakers.
By now I was up for a crafty Shake or maybe a beer or two, so team 'Hostel' headed for the beach. And before long people were flaking out, calling it an early night, Janita and I made it to the Kangaroo bar, but I couldn't manage a Shake, in fact the beer I was drinking seemed to be a bit of a struggle. We talked for a while and before long we walked back to our hostels. Something in my belly wasn't quite right.

I published this without an important part of the evenings events being added. During the night, while I was asleep Hot Sheila came in totally ruined, off her trumpet on buckets of alcohol, and, during the night fell out of bed (top bunk), naked. She hit the floor like a sack of potatoes and decided to bend over in front of Rob in the dim light that made it through the ill fitting dorm door and try and pick up her shorts. I obviously engaged my 'go go gadget night vision', and managed to grab a few fleeting images for the 'bank' but before long she was back in bed. Instead of just going to sleep she stood up wobbling all over the place and tried to sort out her sheets. She was off her trolly. But the main thing was that most of us had an eyeful and went to sleep dreaming of naked Hot Sheilas.

The annoyingly good looking Rob and Amy...Gits. (note the Roger Ramjet chin on Rob)

From 12:00 Mad Lewis McFlicknife, Amy, Rob, Sameep, Janita, someone.

Day 15 - Tripping Balls

We woke up and the only other bed that is occupied in the 12 bed dorm is empty, the guys clothes are there but no sign of him. We mentioned this to Sabina, and we all came to the same conclusion, he pulled. Or is dead. Sameep and I headed off for some breakfast, I went straight in for the Thai food, Sameep had some nuts and lentels or something that vegetarians eat and we made a decision to hit the beach.

I had my swimming shorts on and the sight of those waves had been on my mind all night, I couldn't wait to jump about in them. Before that we had one thing to do, have a shake each. At the far end of the beach is the Kangaroo bar, a large balcony with mats on the floor and fans. Nobody up there is, well, all there, it is the place peoples sanity goes to rest. It is also the place to get a Spacial shake. We wandered in and met some Irish lads all in the same boat as me, pasty white and starting on their first shake, we knocked back the ice cold minced gravel in a cup and before long the call of the water was too much. I headed down and started porpoising through the waves with the grace of a Dolphin caught in a tuna line. After what seemed like half an hour of jumping about it became apparent that the euphoria of being tumbled about in the waves wasn't just because I hadn't done it for years. I popped my head up out of the surf and noticed something... the contrast had been turned up, everything green was, too green, every colour looked like your grandad had been at your TV settings... cool.

I spotted Sameep coming back from an attempt to get a ball or frisbee to throw about, as frolicking in the sea appears weird unless there is a bat or a ball involved. He was empty handed so I porpoised over to the shore to find out what his adventure had turned out to be. "Dude, I got lost, and I'm tripping balls." Let me draw a street map of the area ______|_____, one road with a T junction. Sameep isn't exactly Christopher Columbus, but even he should be able to navigate that. We sat on the sand and he explained what was going on, for him "Everything is bending, its trippy, but good," I had no idea what he was talking about. He said " look at this shell on the sand," I did, and sure enough within seconds, it looked like there was a crab or something pushing the sand slightly from below, it wasn't much movement for me, but for Sameep it was all over the place. We sat and chilled for a bit and before long a board meeting had convened, and we had decided head back, get some more food then attack the Kangaroo bar again later.

Back at the hostel, our room mate was there, we asked him how his night went and it appears we have the king of the party scene with us. After arriving from the UK, he was shattered and decided that rather than just go to sleep he'd have a crafty beer and reccy the area. A beer turned into a bucket and that was the last thing he remembers before waking up on Ko Samui, a neighbouring island. And by neighbouring I mean an hour on a boat. Aparently he woke up next to a fully dressed Whale, she pointed him in the direction of the pier and with no money and his new room key lost to Davy Jones' locker he begged for the money to get himself home. A friendly American lad hooked him up and after a ride back to the pier, then a taxi back to the hostel he was back. Mad bastard. He was tucked up in bed trying to work out what had happened when we popped our heads into the dorm to change out of our wet clothes.

We all went for dinner and with the extra vote from our new board member, we returned to the Kangaroo bar. The Irish lads were still there, in the same place, burnt and looking like 50 shades of shit. I have never seen lads look so rough but still have beaming smiles on their faces.

I roared into another shake, Sameep smashed the back doors off of his and our new friend Lewis hoovered his up. Before you could say 'Compus' we were all laughing our heads off and staring at the lights on the now dark beach. I ran onto the sand to draw a 25ft 'knob' all the time giggling like a little girl. I ran back up to take a picture of my amazing artwork and Lewis past me on the steps, he was going to pose on the end of it... I took the pic with tears of laughter running down my face, but apparently you need light for cameras to work, so take my word for it, it wasn't funny. You'd need two shakes and a couple of beers to really appreciate the artwork. The rest of the night was blurry, but my abs were killing me in the morning, I had been laughing till my stomach ached for hours. Top night. We headed to our beds and at some point I got split up from the guys, but Sameep wasn't far behind, however our mad friend Lewis was missing... again.

This is what I look like after a 'special shake'...

Dad would be so proud.

Irish lad number one asleep but conversing with people like he knows what's going on.

Sameep looking content with life / the railing in front of him

Irish lad number 2 unable to stop smiling.

Irish lad number 3, throwing some gang signs.