Finding Nemo

We have a total of just over 3 weeks at Bingin which becomes two then one and before we know it its our last night in our little ‘Villa’. The morning arrives and with teary goodbyes our procession of bags and porters ascend the cliffs to Ketut our driver. We are headed for Tamarind a resort on Nusa Lembongan, a smallish island south of Bali for some more SURF and snorkeling. Ketut takes us to Sanur our departure point to the island, its hot, confusing and crazy busy. After so many weeks of living somewhere permanent it’s a bit of a shock to be in ‘Ops Mode’ again, Nicky sits on the pile of bags and surfboards and with a resigned look on his face says “Dad I don’t know if I want to be doing this”.

We are pounced on by 5 touts offering various options on reaching our island when completely to our surprise we see a man approaching waving a placard with CRAIG KILLEEN written on. Rescued we follow him down the beach and there purring in the silky sea is our ‘ride’, a super sexy fast looking craft with Tamarind written on the side. Powerful engines fire up and we are soon pounding through deep blue sea towards our destination.

The island feel reaches out to us, reggae music wafts across the water and Blackie the resort owner and his smily staff are all waiting thigh deep in the breakers to carry our bags and boards onto the beach and into our new home,. The resort consists of five bungalows and a pool bar area right on the water and is empty other than a pretty Dutch Girl who immediately becomes part of our family (much to Bills delight). I think she is super relieved that we have arrived as this is a small island with nothing other than a few resorts, bars and warungs.

First things first, I set off down the road to the village to find a scooter when Ketut drives up, “want a ride to town” he says, “no thanks” I reply “I want to rent a scooter’. “You can rent mine if you can drop me back at work first”. I ask for paperwork, he laughs and says just return it when you have finished, you can leave the keys with anyone here if I am not around.

Blackie organizes his cousin Made to take us snorkeling on his fishing boat which is a brightly colored trimarang. Made is a cheerful fellow flashing big gums and buckteeth. We hug the coast passing forests, cliffs and bays, seaweed farming is the main source of income and the bays are laced with seaweed farms consisting of underwater netting fences from which the seaweed is harvested.

We arrive at our first dive spot called Gamut Bay and a new world is discovered. All 5 of us go under and come up screaming spontaneously with delight. We feel like we are in inside Finding Nemo – in an Imax theatre with surround sound. A feast of colors, forests of coral, bright sand and deep blue crevasses open up. We found Dory ( just keep swimming , just keep swimming) but Nemo was nowhere to be found. Nicky and I (Lou) decided all we were missing was the turtles saying “woooowwwww this is incredible hurry up guys surfs up !!!!” Nicky, Bill and Lou feed the fish with bread and there is underwater giggling going on as swarms of fish nibble our fingers. They all have there own personality depending on their colors and the coral they hang out in.

There are three surfing options near us - Playground, Shipwreck and aptly named Lacerations. Playground is a 400 m paddle away from our resort, through anchored boats and buoys and becomes our wave of choice. It’s a user friendly left and right break that works for both Bill and I, what better than to have your son paddling out with you in time to watch the sun rise?

This was probably the best surfing overall, like the name suggests playground is less hardcore and I can feel more like a big fish in a small pond. The most outstanding memory of the trip for me has got to be paddling out as the sun rises each morning and then catching wave after glassy wave but more than just a wave experiencing the sensation of flying over crystal clear water and seeing every detail of the magnificent world below!

Moving to Medewi ........ and Back

We opt to call our driver Ketut to take us out to Medewi and pack up ready for the big move. There are no internet cafes in Medewi and so Craig has to stop somewhere on the way and try to connect his modem onto a local network which proves really tough and takes most of the morning of driving around, wasting time with Bali geeks, without Ketut it would have been impossible. Eventually Craig buys another modem, get it configured and off we go.

Next stop is provisions, Ketut who is showing incredible patience stops at Hardy’s, a local version of Shoprite. We have fun working out all the provisions needed for our trip with our taximan in tow pushing the trolley. Whilst eating lunch at a Warung Nicky discovers wonderland, a kids play emporium with a water slide – this child has the largest capacity for fun fun fun, we go and watch him hanging with the locals flying down the water slide.

We arrive at our new house a few hours later, the owner is nowhere to be found and has left us with 2 girls and a young man, none of who can speak a word of English. The girls are super shy, they giggle and look confused every time we try to communicate.

Craig organizes a scooter and promptly looses the paper work for the licence and then discovers even more frustratingly that there is no signal so no internet and the nearest internet café and any form of civilization is 40 minutes drive away.

That night the girls cook us dinner which is painfull. a really weird combination of sausages (eewww imagine whats in them), rice, prawns? Ugly looking sausages at that and salad with an instant Bali salad dressing. The owner still hasn’t arrived, in fact he never does so its really hard to try and make these girls understand that we want them to leave us alone to do our own thing.

Early next morning I (Craig) head for the break, which is what I came for right? Over night the swell has arrived and its humongous, I stand around nervously in the early morning light trying to figure the sets out and plan a route to paddle out. I watch 4 gnarly Aussies paddle out and they get pounded, eventually I follow a young local trying my hardest to keep up with him and manage to get out past the backline. I am now out and to be honest petrified, the waves are mountains and the surfers are unfriendly and all look like pro’s. My first wave is a disaster, I realize too late someone is already up and riding and drop in on a Frenchman, we collide and my skeg gashes his head. Whilst all this is going on the set of the day arrives and we are caught in front and I am pounded by wave after relentless wave. An hour later I make it back to the beach after cutting my leg open on jagged coral.

This is not working out too well, still we make the most of it, our surfer guide Harris takes Bill out at too more friendly break and he has his first surfing lesson. There is not much else to do but our Villa has a glorious pool and so Lou and the boys hang out there.

Next morning early I decide I have to get over this fear and go back out. Harris is with me this time and shows me the best way to get out to the backline, the swell is if anything bigger and I am thinking what the hell am I doing here. To non surfers the way it works is that the surfer closest to the point where the wave is breaking has the right of way and it’s a continual game jockeying for position. Harris takes me far out and I am thinking why so far when this set arrives blocking out the horizon, I look around and realize I am in position and everyone is watching me. Harris is shouting paddle paddle and proving beyond doubt that a males pride is far stronger than his sense of self preservation I paddle.

Next second I am up and dropping down the biggest wave I have ever caught….... ever.
I hit the bottom at speed, make the turn and settle into the wave. Medewi is regarded as the longest left in Bali and I am riding it, this smooth green wall of water that goes on and on for ever. I eventually kick out what seems like a kilometer away and begin the long paddle back out to the point with adrenalin pumping, grinning like a fool to big cheers from Harris. More waves follow and I think that this is all worth it.

Surf and sweeping vistas aside we last another two days and decide this is not for us. (Well lets face it Craig is getting a surf but with no internet connection he is a grumpy bear and not such fun for us) also we are in the middle of nowhere, the only way I (Lou) is going to get any company is to paddle out to the backline and make friends with Aussie surfers and as you all know me well, know I am more a yoga class, massage and glass of wine kind of girl.

We sms Ketut who arrives promptly the next morning to save the day, he negotiates a payoff to the scooter owner for losing the licence, a payoff for our surf coach Harris (what a gem) who we had booked to spend a week with Bill, payoff for the board and bootie rental and finally explain and cut a deal for the accommodation which has been booked for another week. Thank god for Ketut as he had to do the maths with the staff who had borrowed money from us to pay for the electricity……..it was all very complicated. But it was such a relief to leave, it was a wired place and the Aussie owner, well he was probably getting pissed somewhere and we found out he hadn’t paid his staff for 2 months (thank god we left them a tip too)

Anyway we are finally packed and hightail it out of there back to civilization.

Mission to find Paradise

Whilst Ubud is a dreamy utopia we are here to surf and need to find our patch of beach to spend the next month. We decide to hire a car and take a day exploring the island looking for Craig’s elusive dream, a place where he can start his day surfing and end his day surfing.

Thank God we have Lawrence as navigator extraordinaire, Craig as driver and Lou as the final say. The poor kids are dragged along for good measure (they could have stayed and swam and had a good day poor critters)

Driving a car for the first time in Asia is going to be a new challenge and I approach it with a good deal of respect. The roads are narrow, potholed and crammed with people, dogs, kids, scooters, trucks and cars. We set of and surprisingly find our way to Uluwatu the grand and famous surf venue featured in a 1000 surf magazines. The roads are narrow and windy and there is little or no signage so most of the time we haven’t a clue where we are. We wander down little severely potholed roads that take ages to negotiate, stopping frequently to receive vague advice from well meaning locals. Time is pushing, its now already 1pm and we are nowhere closer to finding ‘that for which we seek’.

We read in the book that there is a fantastic surf spot called Medewi, its right up the West coast about 140km away. We think okay lets just skip all this and head out to the middle of nowhere. First though we have to fight our way through lunch time traffic, the centre of the city, past the airport and onto the coastal road. We discover that there is no highway, the first 80km’s consist of built up towns crammed with dogs, kids, footballs, scooters, the odd funeral procession, you know just your normal island life…….on the streets.

Its 4.30 when we arrive in Medewi which is literally just a surf spot with 2 basic resorts and a few warangs (general dealers). Rural to the extreme with black volcanic sand and a wave that makes Craig tingle to the toes. As always the Gods send us a guide, this ones name is Harris, a charming young surfer, facilitator and translator. He shows me the break which is outstanding with the promise of big swells arriving in the coming days and then says he knows of a good place 300m (read 3km) down the road. So we jump in our car and chase his scooter through friendly little villages with people greeting us from all sides. Suddenly a tiny little child darts outs of nowhere and appears smack bang in the middle of the track literally under my wheels. I slam on brakes and stop with my bumper inches from this smiling little cutie pie. Our aching nerves!

We arrive at the Villa which belongs to some Aussie guy who checked out of mainstream and now has 2 suites to rent and spends his days surfing and drinking (his complexion is ruddy to the extreme). He is keen to have us, but we really envisioned our own villa with a kitchen as I am desperate to cook without MSG (trying to keep the itching at bay). He says no problem we can use his kitchen. Not ideal and we are not sure but the surf is beckoning Craig, our suite is large and comfortable with exquisite uninterrupted views over a rim flow pool, rice paddies and onto the ocean without a single building in sight.

We are under time pressure, its past 5pm we have been driving since early in the morning and we still face a four hour journey back to Ubud. It’s an all or nothing kind of decision so we commit to the Villa and start our return journey.

The trip back is worse in the dark, the road is full of trucks carrying containers to the city. In India we had experienced a different type of driving, let’s call it ‘just in time’ driving, similar rules apply here. There are no double lanes and very few straight sections. In order to overtake you have to face oncoming traffic up close and in your face. Between you, the truck you are overtaking, the dogs, scooters all around and the oncoming traffic everyone gives a little and somehow you slip back into your lane just in time. With trucks crawling along at a snails pace I was forced to start driving like a local or we would have taken all night!

We made it back late that night, the car was intact but our nerves were in tatters. I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I am now qualified to drive anywhere.

Just Step off the pavement and walk

Kids are in heaven, after a few weeks of roughing it and being constantly on the move we are in a clean modern hotel, free internet, cable TV and room service. We left them to enjoy and head out to explore Ho Chi Min City (Saigon).

We had heard from a few people about the traffic in Saigon. The only way to cross is to just step of the pavement and walk, trusting all the drivers to flow around you. It is quite a thing to get your head around and I had thought about it a lot. Finally here Louise and I were at one of the busiest traffic circles in Saigon opposite the main city market and we had to get to the other side. Taking a deep breath we stepped of and walked……..like schools of fish the hundreds of scooters, motorbikes, and taxis flowed around us without missing a beat.

Our trip through Asia has been like this, no plan or agenda just step of the pavement and walk, often putting our lives in other people hands. We are coming to the end of the first half of our journey and are once again on the banks of the mighty and inexplicable Mekong River. From the northern most tip of Thailand near the Chinese border, through Laos, back into Thailand, through Cambodia and now close to the ocean in Vietnam we have been zig zagging the Mekong.

We had used every mode of transport imagineable - busses, scooters, boats, canoes, trains, bicycles, tuk tuks, elephants, pontoons, rafts and rickshaws. Traveling this way has its rewards, slow travel lets you appreciate where you are and gain an insight into the daily life of the locals. Your rhythm changes, distances become real again, you acquire a sense of discovery and adventure sharing your days, meals and boredom with people you would otherwise never meet. The humanity that moves about with bundles and children while the world of the aeroplane passes over their heads in every sense of the word. Slow travel is for us, but then I guess you have got to have the time.

What a great and pleasant surprise Ho Chi Min city turns out to be, feels like the Paris of SE Asia. We arrive at the market and after 2 seconds Craig is bored, anyway we end up in the food section and he is no longer bored - funny that. We sit down to Vietnamese spring rolls and a beer from one of the many stalls yumm, Craig’s in heaven and he could have stayed all afternoon but I dragged him off to look at all the groceries and delicious delicacies.

The food market is staggering and we realize that there is a whole new world to food in Vietnam. After spending so much time in little rural towns and villages we are back in foodie heaven. We start thinking about dinner and having seen lots of fresh seafood we decide to fetch the boys and hunt down some chilli crab. We walk back to the hotel, down-load, un-pack, freshen up and then get our concierge to flag down a “real” meter taxi to dinner. Bill is mortified as he is missing his Arsenal game to come and eat with us, shame poor deprived child!!

This restaurant comes highly recommended from an article given to us by the foodie of all time Irene and boy was it an incredible experience! The restaurant is packed, mostly with locals, which is a good sign but after a few minutes at the entrance we are shown to a table by our friendly waiter. There are 15 different kitchens surrounding a central courtyard with each kitchen preparing its own delicacy. A salad section, a barbecue section, a steam section, a soup section and so on and so on.

After being taken on an impromptu guided tour by our showman waiter through all the various kitchens we are flummoxed - how to decide when everything is so mouthwatering! We finally settled on a papaya salad – spicy (just for a change) a chicken mince meatball packed around a sugar cane stick- deep fried, a prawn toast/fritter and the piece de resistance our Crab steamed and stir fried in a Tamarind sauce - God it was sublime. Kids have salad and chicken – a few beers, a bottle of wine all bloody marvelous and happiness all round.

Back to the hotel to drop the kids and we decide to hit the town. It’s a Friday night and the city is busy, the streets are lined with bars, clubs, restaurants, massage parlors packed with people and noise. We settle on a corner bar and try and get a take on things, we are in the touristy part so there is lots of action. People on the make everywhere sex being the central theme- “love you long time one dollar”. Tomorrow we leave and are feeling sad, having caught a glimpse of the shade we want to see the sun. Vietnam we hope to see you again soon.

Flie Lice a Chika

One more bus ride to Saigon, Lou made sure it was the “top of the range”, not a double Decker (remember the Barf Bus) and no changing busses at the border.

A 4 hour bus ride out of Cambodia awaited us before reaching Saigon (Ho Chi Min City).

Cambodians can’t pronounce the R sound or use consonants at the ends of words so Fried Rice and Chicken becomes Flie Lice a Chika. Somewhere near the border with Vietnam we stop for lunch. I decide Flie Lice a Chika would be a safe bet and was I wrong!!! All of us felt squeamish as its plopped down in front of us, Bill got a sharp bone stuck in his cheek, I am busy scrapping all the chicken off and just gonna eat the rice, when Craig in true style casually asks, “do you think this is dog or snake”? the mental picture was too much to swallow, I heaved and almost vomited in my plate, tears flooded my eyes, and Craig laughed, oh my the thought of those poor mangy dogs, or even a snake eeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Shortly thereafter we arrive at the border. Borders can be pretty intimidating places and this was no exception, first up this medical man, dressed in swine flu mode takes everyone’s temperature using this syringe looking device which he inserts into your ear. All forty people on the bus – one syringe, nice. Louise has fed Nicky a Myprodol in desperation half hour before the border because Nicky had been running a temperature and we can’t face a six week quarantine dining on local cuisine at the Cambodian border. Anyways we all pass the swine test and join the queue to go through passport control. Nicky is REALLY feeling fiiiiiine after the myprodol and fooling around big time, once again as the blonde baby of the bus he is getting the rock star treatment. Whilst we are all standing waiting to X ray the bags and obtain stamps he jumps the rows and is led of by the guards for a behind the scenes tour to watch all the bags being scanned. One more mention of snakes, Louise starts heaving, I feel bad and before we know it we are in Vietnam!

Once again we cross the Mekong, there are no bridges so our bus boards a ferry, I get out of the bus and watch Cambodia fade away. Whilst standing with the truckers and some locals this adorable little girl approaches selling bits and pieces. I buy some tiger balm and Wriggley’s and in exchange get a photo, our last memento from Cambodia.

We arrive in Saigon, Craig points to one taxi man and says okay you’re our guy. He was an extraordinary little creature with small teeth (like he never got his adult ones) and a round button mouth, a gruff voice- “where you going” he barks, we give him the name of a hotel we have chosen in mid range lonely planet, he assures us he is a meter taxi (which the book also tells you) and we squeeeeeeeze our bags into his Mazda.

Bill hops in the back and as he is moving across the seats the man slams the hatch and almost propels Bill into the front seat, I just couldn’t hold it the laughter was so good Bill and I had tears running down our face. Off we wiz across traffic in the middle of the road on the wrong side of the road, Vietnam is a city of motor bikes its incredible, like swimming through a shoal of fish.
Eventually the mad one screeches to a halt at the hotel we requested (which turns out later not be the one) Craig goes in and comes out $ 90– too expensive so then this strange creature now becomes animated and writes $25-30 on his hands and goes befok , he knows where to take us, before we could do anything he whizzes off the meter clicking away. In a land of crazy drivers we have picked the outer fringe, he moves over into oncoming traffic and just stays there, cars veering off all around. Finally he slams on brakes on the wrong side of the road and disappears with Craig into another hotel and he comes out gesticulating like mad, still too expensive for him – yeah right and the meter seems to be speeding up!

Anyway we end up at this cool clean oasis exactly 30m from where we got off the bus, Craig negotiates a good deal for 2 rooms while I draw local money to pay the rally driver. I am about to walk into the hotel with “The Driver” to pay (always better when hotel staff are around and he whips it out my hand and gives me change, all the locals are laughing and I know I’m being ripped so I walk into the hotel to find I’ve paid $28 when it should have been around $4.

Anyway we all agreed that it was a fabulous entertaining ride and worth the money, Nicky has the action down pat, and if we need some cheering he does a rendition of the mad taxi driver and we all fall about. Time to explore Saigon!

Phnom Penh

With a banging on the door all hell breaks loose the next morning. The night before I had switched our cheap Chinese alarm off instead of on. Our pick up is outside pacing, he still has three more collections before getting us to the main bus station to catch our 7am, “super deluxe AC” to Phnom Penh.

Ten minutes later with vast amounts of luggage and sleepy children in tow we board the pick up which is a rickety old relic without windows. Louise and I have a good chuckle as we watch the horrified expressions of some Australians as we arrive to pick them up, “Hiya mate is this bus taking us to Vietnam”?

Another bus another journey, except now I’m (Lou) having an allergic reaction which started in Siem Riep in a small way just my arms were itchy, on the bus ride I was having an internal dialogue about what could be wrong, I would get these hot flashes somewhere on my body followed by intense itchiness, it would move all around, it was freaky.

By the time we get off the bus at Phnom Penh and the taxi drivers all attacked us I was ready to blow, which I eventually did, I mean come on they can see I’m with Craig and the boys and we are walking towards a tuk tuk , they still come into your face and say “madam tuk tuk , come with me!”

“CAN’T you see I’m with my husband and I have a tuk tuk, back (f>>K) off for god sake!” I yelled at them, Nicky told me later that they all were smiling and laughing at the mad woman ! Oh well! It's good to release some anger sometimes :)!

Craig decided to follow the 3 South African girls (mmm wonder why) who were staying in a budget guest house, oh help me god, so we had a look I thought, please no, we tried a few others which were just tooo expensive, said ok went back, jeeez Louise, it was horrid at R120 a night for all of us a dormitory room 4 single beds, lets just say it wasn’t the highlight of our trip. (…..It was great, clean rooms, cheap beer and food, lots of interesting travelers and we have to do at least one backpacker joint on the trip, part of the experience!)

Not to mention the itchiness was getting progressively worse and eventually I surrendered to the fantastic orgasmic scratching with my hairbrush, out of control I was doing myself serious harm, even the strong antihistamines Murray prescribed were doing nothing, I can only think it’s the MSG which Asians use in everything and I mean everything. The second night after nearly exfoliating my skin off, we stopped at a pharmacy and he said allergy (duh) Erticaria? Take these, cortisone, it did help but it took a while for it to go completely but by that stage would have taken anything to stop the itching, my god it’s terrible, and the worse thing is, msg is their salt.

Given Cambodia’s magnificent civilized past its recent history is horrific, 25-30% of their population were tortured, beaten and massacred just 30 years ago, their only crime being that they were educated, Pol Phot’s grand plan to develop an Agrarian utopia of subservient peasants

We decided to explore Phnom Penh and went to the war Museum, oh my god, thank goodness we didn’t go to the killing fields, Nicky said straight away that there were ghosts. What was once a school became a torture chamber where Pol Phot did the most horrendous things to anyone considered an enemy to their cause. I was creeped out and depressed, it is incredible brutality and they kept meticulous records with photo’s to prove it all. The fact that most of the leaders haven’t been brought to justice astounds me beyond anything, Pol Phot died of old age in exile a few years ago. The photographs are haunting. There is still something in the atmosphere in Cambodia, how can a country just continue after such a brutal time. There has been little retribution for the people who caused such pain, no reconciliation, just a get on with it and dry your tears kind of attitude.

A poem written by a prisoner explains that time so well (below)

That night we popped in to the Foreign Correspondence club to cheer up, a beautiful colonial building on the Mekong River as another tropical storm hit. To be sure this setting must be the inspiration behind the launch of a thousand novels.

We sat next to a Dutch girl, who was writing to her friends back home on why men are such bastards- she met a cool European man at a bar the previous night really hit it off was thrilled and then gave him her phone number, on the way out his Cambodian wife pops up and asked her why she wasn’t taking her husband home, it was fine with her as long as she used a condom!!!
She is in love with Phnom Penh and is here to teach English. She recommended that night’s restaurant a hip, trendy and organic place that supports training of Cambodians for the service industry – good food and sadly as always crazy expensive white wine.

We have a family vote to end the traveling and settle down somewhere in Bali for a while (surf beckoning). I was keen to carry on but the boys were tired and it was 3:1 Our last stop was Saigon (Ho Chi Min City) from where our flight was booked to Bali, hasty emails to Lawrence and Janine to see if we could join them, flight numbers and dates changed, we were set.

Last Night in Bangkok

So Nicky, Bill and Lou set of for Bangkok again with a card of a hotel in Ko San road area. We arrive at the Wild Orchid something or other and I just think nooooway anyway I go and check out the room and then the next price range up and then eventually the top range room which is on the 6th floor with NO LIFT- huh?

We decide to leave and get a cab to our trusty hotel near the river when some sweet Thai girl says we have a better hotel just round the corner called Villa Cha Cha and it has a pool. We are sold, she grabs a heavy pack – lucky Nicky and head for the mad streets with us in tow, it’s not just round the corner but a lengthy walk and when she slips into this alley I’m thinking paranoid thoughts. Then out pops Villa Cha Cha from the swirling mass of stalls and mess, we check in very excited and happy to have found a home.

The problem is Craig is on a plane from Turkey and then onto the Wild Orchid villa and we are not there, how to get a message to Craig with no phone and no computer. So I found an internet café logged onto Craig’s email gmail and sent an urgent message from Craig to Craig??? Hehehe
The boys and I hit Fuji and had sushi yippee; love Bangkok did some good shopping whilst boys got their fix of Games in the big Kids entertainment emporium.

I get the message as I arrive in Bangkok which after Turkey is starting to feel like home, easy transfer into the city taking no bullshit from the taxi drivers and find my way to the hotel. What a relief to walk into the Cha Cha and see my tanned and chilled family sipping mango lassies around the pool. Louise has chosen a particularly crazy part of Bangkok, restaurants and shops line the streets, and in front of these a second tier of restaurants and bars line the pavements.

We emerge from our alley and fall into a papaya salad, chilli fish and Tiger beer. Much later I weave of nonchalantly down the road with promises to find a trip to Cambodia. Feeling jet lagged and spaced out I catch a tuk tuk across town to the train station, find an agent, stared earnestly into his eyes for a sign of honesty, think I see it and pay over good money for 4 tickets and a hassle free ride to Siem Reap in Cambodia the next morning.

Evening’s arrived when I return, we dump the boys in air conditioned comfort watching scratchy pirated DVD’s and head back into the human tide looking for a night on the town. Dinner is Indian, lots of white wine and ends with a hubbly hubbly shisha pipe watching the second tier of restaurants through the haze on the pavement. It has been particularly hot and humid even by Bangkok standards, the heavens open up and a tropical downpour engulfs the world outside.

Total non panic as rickety awnings emerge, restaurants and bars continue unabated – wires stretched overhead, bare light bulbs, grills, fires, dogs, chickens, rabbits, gas and all. Our last night in Thailand …… just over a month from North to South and everywhere in between - we love it!

I DID IT FOR MY HUSBAND

We had seen signs up everywhere for the half moon party, and whilst I was sort of reluctant, I knew it was something Craig would love to do.

We started the evening at a bar near us and had hooked up with a few people who would share a taxi to the party. Nice people 2 girls from Germany, Catherine ourselves, Joquim and some guy who moaned the whole way about how expensive the taxi was- (I would have loved to say something but hey, I'm chilled so just smiled and thought - shut-uuuup) In the bar a local called Gak (I know but it is a Thai name and probably sounds beautiful to them) made a mushroom shake, it looked too hideous for words, I had to decline although the others didn't , then off on the back of a bakkie with bench seats on a shit road mmm (was I firkin mad, what would our boys do if anything happened) the driver god bless his soul Mr. Handsome loved him as he was sent from heaven safe slow responsible driver - I was sooo going home with him

We arrived and my first feeling was ………..

This is so contrived!!!!!

on the walk up to the party locals sit waiting to pounce on you – offering all kinds of drugs and selling body painting, standing with pointer sticks and you point to a psycadellic picture you wanted painted somewhere on your body part with allot of Baht (moola)
Food stalls every thing from pizza to revolting sausage, Thai food, falafel (always an Israeli at a party selling a falafel)
Bars that sell buckets with local rum - and a variety of additions
Lots of visual entertainment (psychedelic kind)
Lots of very DRUNK farangs and Thai's
mmmmmm it was gonna be a long night
There was a Reggae band to start which were quite good in a Thai island kind of way - no woman no cry,
Then the heavy trance started
Craig went skipping off to do his sweet smiley trance dance and I watched with fascination at the goings on.
A voyeur all evening was I and some of the things I saw!!
you know the kind of guy that is definitely not cool, he has newly acquired Thai pants on with his t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants, slightly podgy (and white obviously a new arrival) he had painted on each of his arms - the first was lips with the seductive tongue sticking out !!!!And on the other arm 7eleven????????????????????Huh
After about 3 hours (yes I did it) you know that movie, she is just not that into you, well I felt like, I just can't get into this. I was reaching the end of my tolerance level and left a message for Craig that he would find me outside.

This is so contrived!!!!! on the walk up to the party locals sit waiting to pounce on you – offering all kinds of drugs and selling body painting, standing with pointer sticks and you point to a psycadellic picture you wanted painted somewhere on your body part with allot of Baht (moola)

Food stalls every thing from pizza to revolting sausage, Thai food, falafel (always an Israeli at a party selling a falafel)

Bars that sell buckets with local rum - and a variety of additions
Lots of visual entertainment (psychedelic kind)
Lots of very DRUNK farangs and Thai's

mmmmmm it was gonna be a long night

There was a Reggae band to start which were quite good in a Thai island kind of way - no woman no cry,

Then the heavy trance started......

Craig went skipping off to do his sweet smiley trance dance and I watched with fascination at the goings on.

A voyeur all evening was I and some of the things I saw!! ..... you know the kind of guy that is definitely not cool, he has newly acquired Thai pants on with his t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants, slightly podgy (and white obviously a new arrival) he had painted on each of his arms - the first was lips with the seductive tongue sticking out !!!!And on the other arm 7eleven????????????????????Huh

After about 3 hours (yes I did it) you know that movie, she is just not that into you, well I felt like, I just can't get into this. I was reaching the end of my tolerance level and left a message for Craig that he would find me outside.

I was sitting opposite the food stall and this REALLY drunk girl all sweaty - makeup gone awry look about her, staggered and weaved up to a food stall pointed to a kebab and a revolting looking sausage both on a stick, took about three weaves and a lot of concentration to pay with the right bills - she staggered over and sat down next to me weaving and rolling - she was out of it, after nearly impaling her eye with the kebab stick she latched onto the kebab and bit down, it was tough so she was pulling hard with her teeth, yess! she got her bite, but her co-ordination was so impaired that as the rest of the kebab was freed - it flew into the air and all the dogs milling around pounced and devoured it in a second, she was confused for a moment - looked at her empty hand and then started talking to the dogs, whilst doing so her multi-tasking skills had lapsed and her last remaining food item the revolting sausage gently rolled off her plate into the sand - the dogs were there in a second, OHHH, I was laughing so hard by this stage.

Let’s just say it was the highlight of my evening - reality entertainment!

The trip home was funny too and we had a few drunk girls who were talking such hog wash one of them a South African living in London who whilst sober has this very affected poncey accent, but while drunk it keeps slipping from slur to south African, ha-ha, so Bust!!!!

Ok so been there done that got the badge, in fact I felt like I needed an endurance badge.
The thing is, - Full moon party started 20 years ago by a few traveling hippies and now they have full moon parties , half moon parties, black moon parties after parties 2 days before parties 2 days after parties , pool parties, where is the hippie soul in all of that, I would have been happier in the Yai Bar just down the beach from us , plays groovy sexy music , you can swim if you get to hot and well, its far cooler than crowds of sweaty drunk, high, young , I think I have been there and got the badge, I want soul !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Craig left for Istanbul and we are schooling till lunch and chilling for the day Bill played in the 5 o’clock local soccer game - must say he is braver than me. It looks pretty hardcore - go Bill
Nicky made friends with some local kids at Central gets to have free pool games must say the kid’s skills in Fuzeball and pool improving.