D and I went back down south to the Full Moon party last week. It was our second in 2 months (which is a bit indulgent even for me) and I think it might have to be my last. I'm starting to feel like I might be too old to be painting my body in day-glo paint, playing childhood games like jumprope and limbo (granted the rope and poles are lit on fire), and drinking until the sun rises and it gets to hot to still be dancing in the afternoon sun. I caught myself, at one point, saying to someone, "When I was your age..." That may be a sign that it's time to hang up my paint splattered Full Moon clothes.
I thought this picture was hilarious since people keep presuming that I'm a ladyboy. It seemed only fitting that I posed as Jeroen's Thai half-brother.
30,000 people on this beach
a safe, secure, and free designated sleep area should anyone need a nap
still dancing at dawn...
This sign was mocking us as we had the worst journey home ever. It was pouring rain from the moment we left our bungalow. It rained the entire hour while we waited on the pier for the boat and we were soaked, along with our bags, causing them to double in weight. The boat was overbooked because they counted the seats on the sundeck but since it was raining all 350 people crammed inside the boat, standing where ever they could, like soaking wet sardines. The aircon was on, or else there would be no ventilation, and we were wet and freezing. The waves were so rough that I kept getting mental images of White Squal and the Tsunami. I made a note to always tell someone where I was going as the only person who knew that I was on the boat was D, sitting right next to me. Then, all of a sudden, the fire alarm went off. I definitely thought we were going under because there were more people than life jackets on the boat. The alarm was turned off after a few minutes and we were told that it was "nothing." Great. Our attention was focused back again on the rocky boat that sent bags sliding from one side to the other. Shortly after, I began to hear the sounds of people vomiting all around me. The sound, and the smell that followed, made me so sick that my lunch, too, came up. Except, I didn't have a bag ready, and being the courteous person that I am, I had to swallow it back. (Read: cringe). There were green faces everywhere holding clear bags filled with brown liquid. I put on my ipod, stared at the horizon, and prayed for the boat ride to be over soon, with all of us, safely on shore.
Once we got to the pier we had another 6 hour bus ride awaiting us and no dry clothes. My ipod died with 5 hours left on the bus. The reading light was broken. I had never been so happy to return to Bangkok, back to Nick's house, be greeted by my friend, Massive Cockroach, and change into dry clothes.