My first stop was a National Park around two hours away from Bangkok. I had no idea what was going on before I reached the park but neither did anyone else! I was disorientated and grouchy after zero sleep. Thank you Little Miss Pukes-Her-Guts-Up and her co-star Retch 32. Their lovely regurgitation of the evening's merry consumptions was quite delightful on the ear. As you can tell from my sarcasm, I wasn't in the best of moods so small talk was out of the question. I just wanted to power nap my way there. A bus picked me up from the hostel I was staying at in Bangkok. Two minutes later I was ushered off of the bus and placed on the side of the road amongst other equally confused tourists. I was attacked with various stickers and told to wait. It felt like I was amidst some bizarre cattle auction. I wondered how much I would fetch for. My inner monologue was interrupted by a drunken Brit trying to get on one of the buses. At first it was funny and then my laughter turned to embarrassment and I felt like apologising on behalf of the UK! He then started to turn violent and grabbed the sticker lady. Thailand...in fact most Asian countries I believe are very non-confrontational so nobody stepped up to teach this guy a lesson. In England he would be severely man-handled. Before I could see what happened I was carted off onto another bus for branding...no wait...I mean to travel to my next destination.
We took a couple of detours before we settled down at our accommodation. We visited a cemetery and the creepiest war museum I have ever been to. War museums aren't meant to be carnivals of course but this was just weird. The building looked on the verge of collapse and there didn't seem to be any order to the displays. There were no English descriptions to the displays and we weren't briefed on what we were actually looking at. The others from the bus asked me to translate the title of the museum - what is "Jeath"? I had no clue of course. They all laughed at me as if I was an imbecile. Thankfully it was revealed to me an acronym of the nationalities Japanese, English, Australian, American, Thai and Holland. I later found out that it was meant to depict the Death Railway built between 1942 and 1943 by the Allied POWs under the direction of the Japanese.
Things picked up though as we visited the bridge on the River Kwai. I'm not sure whether it was the sleep deprivation or my four weeks in Japan, but I found myself flinching and staring aghast at the sight before me. I was surrounded by incredibly fat Americans. They were everywhere. Hot, red and sweaty. It freaked me out. I managed to make it from one side to the other...because we had a time limit, not because of all the fat people, calm down!
We took the train back over the bridge. Our guide, O, warned us that if we got off at the wrong stop then we'd be left to fend for ourselves as she wouldn't come back for us until the following day. I don't think she was kidding either! The views were spectacular but somewhat marred by this (photo) trigger happy couple who kept getting in the way. They weren't the only ones. This random woman took a photo of everyone (individually) on the carriage I was in. It was very strange. Some time later, the same woman came back with laminates of a train ticket with each persons' photo on. Yeah I didn't want that! I think she wanted 200 baht for it. It seemed like false economy as I only saw two people buy one from her.
When we stopped for lunch I needed to decide whether to visit the Tiger Temple with different group of people or stick to what I paid for and stay with the group I'd just gotten to know. It was a difficult choice but I decided to abandon my new friends and head to the Tiger Temple. Unfortunately I can't upload photos just now. Well I could, but it'd take forever and I am paying for the net by the minute here! I did get some good photos of me cuddling up to the tigers as well as others along the way. I might do a photo montage post when I next get free net.
Gianfranco Zola! Now that's just showing off. It all sounded great and it made me wonder why he gave it all up. He eventually revealed that the pay he was on was rubbish. Still, if it makes you happy...
It seems that most people I have met recently have given up dream jobs or well paid jobs (or both!) to go travelling. An air of embarrassment surfaces when they ask me what I do/did. I have no fantastical story. I just worked my arse off s'all. The question that usually follows after I reveal my former job title and correct them when they assume I have a trust fund or robbed someone wealthy, is - What did you do to afford that? They wait with bated breath as if I was going to reveal magnificent secrets. Sorry guys. It's simple:
A) Have no life. A social life costs moooooney. Get over it.
B) Get another job and work everyday. You can sleep next year.
C) Sell everything but your soul on eBay.
Et Voila, you can now go travelling. Trust me, it's all worth it. It makes it more satisfying that I worked for this rather than it being handed to me. I appreciate it more. It's funny that I didn't know (and still don't by the way) what I wanted to do with my lift so decided to travel and clear my head. I thought maybe I'd figure things out but, more importantly, see the world before I had to make that decision. Now these people I have met have already carved out a career for themselves but still felt a bit empty so gave it all up to travel. Maybe one can never feel truly at peace. There'll always be something we've not done or somewhere we haven't been. It'd be a rather boring world if that wasn't so.
After my bout of philosophising, it was time for food again. I also played a game of pool. Well it wasn't quite pool. The table had certainly seen better days and there wasn't a full set of balls. At this moment, I surprised myself. The girl I played kept knocking the balls with her cue after each shot. She'd place the cue down on the table rather than pass it to me. People kept making up random rules too. Now normally I would bring order to this madness. My competitive streak would rear its socially awkward little head. One cannot possibly beat me if one does not follow the rules, hmph. Instead, I couldn't be arsed and I let her win. I never let anyone win. I fight to the bitter end! Ha!
Once the pool was done, the anti-socialites from the bus had a pack of playing cards so suggested we play. Donkey was the name of the game. Simple rules. Get rid of all your pairs then each person picks a card from the person sitting to their left. One person is left with a nominated card, the queen. This one girl kept picking the same card from my hand. I had to use this to my advantage. She lost, a lot. The same girl I played "pool" with too. My subconscious acting out from earlier? Surely not. I just established that my competitive steak had laxed. Shush now.
Some random guy named Brad joined and things became interesting. Earlier, the loser acted out a dare we conjured. We decided on singing a song of the loser's choice as loud as possible. I suggested we make it more fun. The next person who loses should go across to this group of guys and ask if any of them had a spare bed for the night...well I said sleep with them but they PG'd it. My streaking dare was also vetoed. Weak! I was bored and part of me wanted to lose just to mess with some people. On we played and I didn't lose. The others opted for the singing forfeit. Boring. Banter ensued and it turns out that Brad is Canadian
We decided to play one more game and I lost. Shit. I had to eat my words. Ok. Here'goes! I wandered up to the guys and debated on whether I should blurt out the dare and run or ease my way into it. I went for the latter which was a ridiculous idea. Turns out the guys were awesome. i wanted to keep talking to them. Stupid dare. Brad suggested I say it to this odd looking dutch guy...hmm...if I'm doing this then I think I should get to choose (I know dares aren't supposed to be fun but that's besides the point!). Argh! What am I doing? I should have just blurted it out and ran off. Wait, if I'm going to retract anything it'd be the dare. Flashing my boobs would have been much easier. Hello - here's my boobs - so where are you guys from? Instead I had to offer my services to a random. I chose my victim and said it...well mumbled it. The git said he didn't hear me and asked me to say it again. I'm not sure if he was messing with me...on seconds thought, yes he was probably messing with me. Making me squirm. I said it and went and got a beer. Phew. I spent so much time thinking about what I'd say, I didn't even think about what the guy would say. He said yes...shit...err...ok. Haha! What a complete failure. Never mind. It was time for karaoke!
I never had the chance to do karaoke in Japan so I leapt at the chance to have a bit of fun in Thailand! It also gave me a chance to distract the guys from what I just said. Gary and Connor - Irish, Brad and Brandon - Canadian, and a few others I didn't know descended on the singing zone. We all had a go, choosing songs from the list on the screen. Connor's rendition of Daniel Bedingfield: If You're Not The One, was loud but beautiful. I sang Barbie Girl with Brandon and we all joined in on Big Big Girl. All the classics! Time wound on and I was having a brilliant time. I even got to do a bit of rapping. I love hip-hop karaoke. People were taking photos so somewhere on Facebook are photos of me gurning away. Wonderful.
We sung a lot of songs together. But then...a song flashed up on the screen and everything changed. Could it be? I ran up to the lady controlling the playlist and babbled something incoherently to her in my excitement. I calmed down, took a deep breath and told her to play song number 68. Microphone firmly clenched in hand, I took centre-stage. I could hear people around me asking what I was doing and what song I was going to sing. I didn't reply. I was in the zone. Everyone was completely oblivious as to what was about to happen. I don't think those guys were ready for my jelly. Yes...the Beyonce...Crazy In Love...booty shaking and all. Oh yeah baby. I shook my booty and sang my little heart out. I think the beer went to my head but I didn't care. I do recall a similar moment back in York when a Beyonce song was played . It involved an umbrella and two unsuspecting males. I have no idea what happens to me to make me act that way but Beyonce brings out my wild side.
The Thai people on that floating home certainly knew how to party. Late nights and early mornings do NOT mix. Unfortunately I had no choice in the matter. The next day, an 8:30am breakfast and 9am departure meant I didn't have much of a chance to say goodbye to everyone properly.
Thereafter, I had quite an active morning. I went bamboo rafting, elephant riding and then visited the second (much better) war museum. The descriptions were more in depth and audio players were free to use. We walked through the pass itself. It was pretty powerful stuff!
The trip ended all too soon and my next stop was Koh Tao. I had no idea how I was going to get there. Maybe I'm getting a little too laid back...
Haha, sounds like you've been having lots of fun. Keep away from the Americans and their funny, funny accents ;)
ReplyDeleteIt wasn't the accents that scared me! Haha. It felt like a scene from 28 Days later...too far? Ah well.
ReplyDelete