... Well I've been on this island of Koh Change for... well I don't know how long, but as time has passed I've slowly embraced the warm cocoon of life on the island. You arrive looking at the dogs sleeping like stones in the road, not flinching as scooters veer past carrying the uncomfortable look of a westerner who doesn't really know what they're doing... you're amazed by the lethargy and the slow pace... but it slowly welds into your own thinking and you live the life of a tired cat or dog... a life punctuated by sleeping and eating only to come alive as the sun receeds and the thud of some god-awful dance music creeps into the air from the location of which ever bar has decided to do a party-come-drink-offer-come-free-bbq... I lost track of the days as I began to impliment a siesta into my daily routine... my days read like the diary of a school kid, produced under duress for some assignment... wake up, breakfast in the bar of a thousand wooden phalluses (ok, already not that school-ish in content), read, lunch, sleep, dinner, drink, bed... a basic routine but undeniably true... when you do take some excursion (see the picture of my visit to a waterfall yesterday... my chest is so white you could project a film on it) you need the next day to be extra lazy just to recover...
... OK, my first digression... a man has just entered the internet cafe and unscrewed a bottle of whisky from 7-11... it's only 3pm!
... little details of life here become big... you soon begin to feel (relatively) local... you see the prices for rooms rise as they crank up to the high season... you see the lobsters develop on the beach side-by-side with those fortuante enough to turn brown... you see the ladyboy sitting on the balcony of her bar winking at the men going passed (whisky man just answered the phone... he clearly has no confidence in the microphone of his phone)...
... even the ants in my shower room fascinate me... they live in the heating unit... ever time I have a hot shower they escape and run to the hills (as I write that, Iron Maiden singing the line is unavoidable... it is like the voice in my head cannot say the term 'run to the hills', but instead invites Bruce Dickenson in to sing it for me acopella... as an aside, Bruce Dickenson is a commercial pilot, he actually flew Liverpool to a recent Europa League game)... I finish my shower and they return home... cursing and checking their insurance policies like some unfortunate peoples living on some flood plane in Gloustershire (not exactly topical, I admit)
... ... ... In short, I'm enjoying this vast change of pace but it is time to move soon... we will return to Bangkok on Saturday and Mum and Dad leave on Tuesday... then I will plan my assult of Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam and visit Chang Mai on my way to one of those so talked about but so unfamilure destinations...
(now whisky man has a beer drinking thing with him... I'm usually good at guessing nationalities but I cannot place these guys... they look Russian, speak English like Norwegians but speak a language which floats somewhere between Polish and Portugese in my estimations... what an enigma this piss head is)
... I should probably explain that 'the bar of a thousand phalluses is just a really nice bar but which has lots and lots of wooden carved penises of various sizes all over the place... you don't notice them at first but then as I sat opposite my parents I noticed the giant phallic carvings either size of them and the nob-mobile hanging from the ceiling... but my cricky, they do a lovely stir-fry:)
... I feel that this visit may have proved somewhat of a success with my parents... slowly the comparisons with India receed and they begin to enjoy this place for its own merits... it's quite satisfying to see them enjoy things like the elephant trekking and swimming in the ice cool pool below a forest waterfall... (and as I write this, at this vary moment, they stroll past the window of the internet cafe... they're off changing money, I guess my heavy eating habits are eating into their funds (no pun intended)) ... (Whiskey man just farted loudly)
... this post only comes because I've decided to forgo today's nap... (Whiskey man's friend is called Ivan) ... so I'll find a hammock in a bar and read some more of 'Infinite Jest'... ... (another fart from the man only known as W!)... ... ... this posting has been quite an undertaking... I've worked up a sweat despite sitting as close as possible to the fan... 3pm is too early to undergo such intense exercise!
... I really need to finish now... Whiskey man is standing behind me chatting to Ivan, I don't want him to read this... he might lash out in a whiskey-fuelled rage... although I think it's too hot to get angry... let's just let bygones be bygones and settle down on a hammock with an ice cold bottle of Chang beer... anyone fancy joining me?
No comments:
Post a Comment