Island Life

After making it across the border from Siem Reap to Bangkok without a hitch, I was back with the McLatchers again for a few nights before I took the overnight bus down to Koh Phangan, one of the islands in the Gulf of Thailand. Leaving Bangkok at eight o'clock in the evening, I spent eighteen hours in transit before arriving at my beach house. The first leg of the trip was by bus, which was more suited to Thai-sized people, and while I searched for a way to get comfortable, I never found one that let me get any sleep for more than ten minutes. At three in morning I realized that the aisle might be the most comfortable option and stretched myself out between the seats. This was quite successful, and aside from getting kicked in the head once, it let me get a little bit of shut-eye. The transfer from the bus to the ferry went smoothly, and then island taxi ride (a ride in the back of a pick-up truck) ended my time in transit. A friend I had made in Siem Reap, a Brit named Alex, had an extra bed in his beach bungalow, so I didn't have to spend any time looking for accommodations. This was a good thing for me, because the island becomes flooded with backpackers every time the full moon approaches, and I saw many people wandering along the beaches, backpacks on and looking forlorn.

The reason that the full moon is such a draw is because of the Full Moon Party, a beach party that attracts between ten and fifteen thousand people to Sunrise Beach every month. The majority of revelers last long enough to watch the sunrise, and the party usually ends sometime around noon the next day. The Full Moon Party is by far not the only thing to do here though, and on my first full day here I went on a snorkeling trip with Alex and Mara, a Dutch girl who is also traveling solo. The boat brought us all the way around the island, making stops for lunch as well as swimming and snorkeling along the way. I was amazed at how good the snorkeling was, as the coral was in pristine condition and there were dozens of different types of fish swimming about as well.

The night before last the three of us went to watch Muay Thai, a style of Indochinese kickboxing and it was something to see. The arena probably held fifteen hundred seats, these being plastic lawn chairs sitting on dirt, and every single one was filled. There were no walls, but the sheet-metal roof did a surprisingly good job of keeping in the thick clouds of cigarette smoke. There were seven matches, and the first one was an exhibition fight between two eleven-year-olds. I didn't really enjoy that fight, but it wasn't as if they were two rank amatuers. Muay Thai fighters start training at the age of six, and the two boys already had about a dozen fights apiece and definitely knew what they were doing. The second fight was a female fight which I also didn't enjoy, and it seemed the crowd didn't really either. The adult men's fights began in the third fight, and the announcer, an old London ex-pat, started to really get into it, promising that now we were really going to see some guys kick the hell out of each other - and that there would be blood.

We had bought the cheapest tickets, which meant that we should have sat furthest from the ring, but as all of these seats had filled by the time we arrived. A new row was made right behind the ring-side announcers table, so we ended up sitting only about six feet from the ring. It was a great view, and the smell of cigarettes was at times overpowered by the smell of the liniment that the trainers rubbed onto the fighters at the end of each round. Still, the closeness of our seats started to worry me when the announcer began raving that blood was going ruin the clothes of any people sitting near the ring. Blood was only drawn in one fight after a series of elbows opened up two cuts on one of the fighters' faces, but thankfully there were no showers of blood splattering us spectators. The last fight of the night was a farang (foreigner) fight between a Swiss and a Latvian, and it was a fun way to end the evening. Neither of them had even close to same level of technique as the previous fighters, and while Muay Thai fighters prefer to kick, as this is the most damaging and far-reaching strike, the Europeans almost solely preferred roundhouse punches. It was basically a backyard boxing fight with a half-a-dozen kicks sprinkled throughout, with the Latvian finally connecting with a punch to the side of the Swiss's head that had the referee stop the fight. Fights usually go for five two minute rounds, with women going for four rounds, and five of the fights went the full distance, which meant that it was well after midnight by the time we left.

Last night was the infamous Full Moon Party, and Alex had a well-thought out plan: He was going to have a nap in the afternoon, a late supper, and then establish a meeting point where all us who had met one another in the last few days on the island would meet if separated every odd-hour until the sunrise. I thought that seeing the sunrise would be a pretty cool experience, but I need my sleep, and didn't make any promises. I ended up going to bed around three in the morning, as did Alex, despite his plan to see the sunrise. When I woke up around twelve today, there were still people dancing on the beach. Red bull does that to you I guess. The beach was wild, as you can imagine, with body paint, glow sticks and fluorescent colours being the primary fashion choices of the partyers. There were also many people dancing with fire pois - flaming kerosene orbs on the ends of rope - as well as a gigantic flaming skipping rope. Each end of the thirty-foot rope was held by a guy on raised platforms, and those brave enough would time their run and then see how long they would last before being tripped. The guys holding the rope were intent on having as many people trip as possible, and I only saw two people safely exit as every other skipper tripped and, writhing on the sand, tried to extricate themselves as quickly as possible from the flaming rope. One guy I talked to was sure that the guys with the rope were in cahoots with the medical centres, as he had been treated for burns he suffered a week ago and had been surprised at how expensive it had been. I wasn't convinced myself. I think there are enough drunks around getting hurt in stupid ways that the medical centres don't need more business.

Tomorrow I leave for the west coast, and hopefully do some diving at Koh Phi Phi before I make my way into the mountains of northern Thailand. Today was the 101st day of my trip, and I can't believe how quickly the time has gone. My trip is about halfway done, and it feels like I have been only gone for a month. While I will be back by the end of July at the latest, I can see how time can just get away from you as you travel. I met a Dutch guy about a week ago who had left Holland planning on being gone for three to four months. It was his thirteenth month on the road.