16th April - Koh Mak to Trat

Not the most exciting day but I'll give you the basics. We packed up and headed, along with Joe and Diane, to catch the 11.30 catamaran back to Trat. A lady on the boat shared her huge bag of rambutan with us all and we enjoyed popping the fleshy, eyeball-like fruits from their extravegant red and green tendrilled coats as we bobbed along the sea.

Back in Trat we checked in to Pop Guesthouse with Diane and Joe and went our seperate ways for a while: Joe and Diane to sort out a problem with their timeshare stay in Corfu and Matt and I to look for higher factor sunscreen.

Finding sunscreen in Asia is no problem at all. They sell it everywhere and much of what we found were the same brands as we see back home. The problem comes however, in the fact that almost every skin product is whitening. I don't mind whitening toothpaste, I could about cope with whitening deoderant bleaching my armpits, I cannot see the point at all in whitening lip-salve, but I really, really don't want whitening sunscreen. I don't mind not getting a tan because, even though I think it does make my pale, fleshy bits look better, I understand it is esentially just skin damage. However, reversing the natural melatonin build-up and making brown skin turn white in the sun just seems a bit freaky to me. I do keep meaning to read up on it properly but if anyone beats me to it, please fill me in.

Anyway, after several hours of scouring the shops and even a trip to Tesco, we were still struggling to find anything over a 20ml bottle (designed for faces and not the extensive surface area of a pudgy Westerner) of Factor 50+. We enquired about a taxi to take us to the Boots we'd heard was a few km out of town but since he was certain we were saying 'boat' not 'Boots' (even when I wrote it down he thought I'd just spelt it wrong) we decided it wasn't worth a trip to the pier and a confused debate.

We settled on buying a few bottles of Factor 30 from a shop near our hotel and went to the night market for dinner and fruit shakes.

12th to 15th April - Koh Mak

Baan Ing Kao was truly lovely and we had a fabulous time there. However, to save you all from endless mentions of relaxing walks down the beach and what-have-you, I'm am going to try a list of highlights and low-lights.

Highlights (in chronological order):

1) Finding a bikini - it's a bit skimpy but it's lovely. Navy blue with gold spots and red ties. Yay!

2) Seeing our cute little beach hut by the sea and its hammocks

3) Walking on the beautiful, empty, white sand beach, next to the blue, blue sea and swinging on a coconut tree.

4) Watching Matt try to get a coconut fresh from the tree

5) Seeing the sandbank across the sea where you could just walk to another beautiful island at low-tide.

6) All the scrummy food at Baan Ing Kao. We were quite far away from the rest of the resorts but didn't have to leave our haven unless we wanted to.

7) Waiting until the sun went down and then walking across narrow part of the island to get to the other side. It was deserted, the sea was incredible there and the sea bed was sandy and soft. We had to walk for ages until it got deep enough to swim and we felt like we had found a little piece of heaven.

8) Watching Matt get freaked by being stared out bu a tiny, inquisitive little fish that would not leave him alone.

9) Dragging Matt through the water back to the beach by his arm.

10) Saying hello to the old man who came to the beach with a beer and his dogs to watch the sun go down every night.

11) Getting to know a copke of Swedish guys, Atte and Jouko and Atte's Thai girlfriend, Noknoi.

12) Going to the temple for Songkran (more about that later) and then heading out in the back of the truck armed with plastic bottles with their lids pierced ready for the water fights.

13) Stopping for fuel at the 'gas station' where they manually had to crank fuel into the tanks before letting in run down a tube into the truck. (I am certain I could have been more technical about that.)

14) Going to the pub all soaked from water fights and having a few beers before playing the most antique game of table football I've ever seen. Matt and I spent most of our time tipping the table or blowing the ball when it ground to a sudden halt where neither player could reach it.

15) Meeting our Canadian friends Diane and Joe who we spent many happy hours and with whom I learned more about the Christian faith than I've even really understood before.

16) Swimming in the sea with Diane with Matt and Joe napped on the beach. Diane was fabulous and I've missed my girly friends so much that it was a real treat.

17) SEEING FIREFLIES!!!!  If they were in order of preference this one would be first! It was the first time I'd ever seen them and there were hundreds, maybe even thousands! They were all sparkly and mystical as they pulsed around the woods on the side of the path to the bungalows. I loved them! I'd gotten to the point where I suspected that peopel were just making them up to tease me and that they occupied the same realms as unicorns, leprichauns and dragons. I am so glad that they don't.
I was so excited that I lost my t-shirt! But I wasn't wearing it at the time.

18) Sitting in the shelter at the end of the pier, peeling a pineapple and looking into the sea below and around us.

19) Trying to find the signposted 'viewpoint' with Diane and Joe. We walked for ages and never came across it but it was a nice wander.

20) Doing yoga in the sun on the porch of the unoccupied bungalow next to ours. I would have done it on the beach but for the pesk sandflies!


Lowlights:

1) Slipping on a rock the first time that I went for a walk in my beautiful new bikini and getting laughed at my fisherman. I had to walk back all bloody and muddy.

2) Matt getting bitten by red ants as he tried to get a coconut fresh from the tree

3) Being too much of a wimp to cope with what was under my feet as I tried to cross the sandbank across the the beautiful island and not getting chance to go back with my wonderful sea shoes that Rachel bought me.

4) Being told by Atte about a horrific disease that you can get from shellfish after I'd been eating loads of the stuff. He lost the use of his legs for months and the brother of someone he knew died from it!

5) Finding out that plastic bottles were futile against the huge barrels of water being carried by other trucks on Songkran. Our opponants simply scooped and threw and we were soaked within seconds and totally unable to see where to aim ourselves.

6) Some of the barrels of water containing ice.

7) Finding out from the Dulcie (thank you Dulcie, you have beeen a real Godsend and we really appreciate it!  xxx) that Barclays have sent me a letter saying that they are now familiar with my complaint and are investigating. If they knew anything about my complaint then they wouldn't be writing to be at home would they!

8) Eating durian fruit in the shelter at the end of the pier. It is disgusting! It smells foul, it tastes like it smells and it clearly knows itself that it shouldn't be eaten because it's made itself so spiky and heavy that it's painful to handle! And yes, I know this isn't how natural selection works but I prefer to think that the durian fruit's ony redeeming feature is the fact that it tries to save humanity from just how rank it is.

9) Getting sunburnt in the shade of the shelter at the end of the pier, despite the fact that I was wearing the suncream that protected me during long, hot days in Greece. Damn the photosensitivy side-effect of Doxycycline!

10) Trying to dangle my feet in the water from the pier and getting cuts from the billions of barnacles stuck there.

11) Matt 'realising' (while I was in the shower) that he hadn't changed the flight from Singapore and that it was due to leave the following day and rushing out to find wifi so that he could Skype. I got out of the shower and panicked because he was wearing sandals and hadn't taken a torch and, thinking that he was walking miles down dark roads and through forests, both of which had snakes, scorpions and several other nasties,  ran after him wearing nothing but a towel and calling his name. There was no answer and I went to Diane and Joe's in a bit of a teary panic. Joe had just got his shoes on to come and help (I'm still not sure what we would have done really) when Matt turned up and declared that he'd found a wifi connection really close and that he'd already changed the flights anyway!

12) Not being able to speak to my mum on her birthday,
Phew, and I thought we hadn't really done much there! Imagine how much longer that would have been if it was written in continuous prose. You'd have been bored silly!

Now, just in case that wasn't enough, it's for a fuller account of our visit to the temple at Songkran:
We'd managed to get ourselves invited because Noknoi was a devout Buddhist and so had arranged to go to the temple with the family who owned the resort. Matt and I were looking forward to getting a bit more immersed in the culture after all of our beach hovering (I'd like to say 'lounging' but the sodding sandflies stopped all those shenanigans!) and it would be our first time in a temple during a ceremony.

I had woken up super-early with an allergic skin reaction to something or other and so was feeling quite spaced out and serene after watching the sunrise and comings and goings of fishermen, but at around 7am we all started to assemble.

Now the culture of Buddhism in these parts involves giving lots of offerings. Since our arrival in Bangkok we've seen spirit house of all shapes and sizes, given pride of place both indoors and out. From large, ornate, golden structures to simple doorstep arrangements, they usually have a little idol, incense sticks and an offering of food: we've seen everything from bottles of strawberry Fanta (including a straw!) to scraps of rice and meat on saucers. Our hostel in Bangkok always had fresh fruit which, when it was on the verge of turning, was deposited in the fridge for guests to eat and replaced with something better.

This is also extended at Songkran, when people take offerings of food to the temple to feed the monks. In the run-up to today, we'd been quite curious about the 'monk baskets' that we'd seen for sale in a number of places. Tesco had a load of them and we'd previously spent time poking them and wondering what use the monks had for some of the odd items contained within. We'd also seen lots of brightly coloured shirts on sale which we could only assume for for the same festival since we hadn't yet seen anyone wearing them.
Noknoi had made up her own monk basket including sensible things such as dried goods, soap and toothpaste but also had a selection of food and rice. We then saw the food that the family had assembled: bags and bags of curries and soups and other tasty-looking dished were collected together, along with a big bowl of rice, and deposited on the truck. We all climbed onboard, squidged up together and heady down the bumpy track to cross the island to the temple, stopping ony to collect one or two other people (and their food) along the way.

When we arrived at the temple, it was still fairly quiet but I was very careful to try to start putting into place all of the etiquette that I'd read up on such as entering the temple with the correct foot and positioning myself in such a way as to make sure my feet would not be pointing toward the monks. I am particularly scared of accidentally toucing a monk and making him endure days of cleansing and fasting rituals but I managed to stay clear of the one who took his sandals off next to me.

Inside the temple, the family joined other early arrivals,  transferring their bags of food to plates which were set on a low table in front of the main stage, and rejoining their familes, still holding their rice. Most people were still standing around and we were feeling awkward about what to do with ourselves but Noknoi told us to get settled and so we positioned ourselves on the matts on the floor and hoped that we weren't in anyone's way.

There were several people addressing the shrine in the corner of the temple and after they'd finished, Noknoi lit 3 incense sticks each for us and instructed us on how to hold them, bow towards Buddha and stand them in the pot of sand which held many other burning sticks. I always find these moments quite uncomfortable as I'm never sure whether it is more insulting to particpate in rituals I do no understand or believe in, or whether to make a bumbling effort to get involved. I realy do not mind either way and I do quite like getting involved but I am always so worried about offending people.

We sat back down and several monks filed on to the low stage at the front. Each of them crouched down and rested the cloth bag they were carrying on the floor, equidistant to one another, uncovering the large brass-looking bowls contained within. They wiped them carefully and arranged lids to the side before moving away again.

As more people arrived at the temple, with a range of colourful, flowered shirts finally on show,  they transferred their food the the ever-growing selection there. More tables were fetched, along with large trays on wheels, and the piles of food, drinks, fruits and sweets continued to pile up.

Each family then carried their rice to the front and placed a spoonful in each of the monk's bowls. It seems important that the family remained a 'unit' as they did this and we witness some quite comical shuffles as several adults and children held on to one another, and the spoon, and scooted their way along the row of 7 bowls.

After everyone had performed this ritual settled on the floor, the monks then came back in a sat cross-legged behind their bowls and returned the lids back on top. The second monk picked up the microphone and gave a short address in English directed at  Swedes and us and, although we could barely understand a word, we laughed and nodded along with the obviously kind and generous sentiment that he was extending.
The next period of time was a combination of talking, prayers and chanting. The chanting was just wonderful. I loved closing my eyes and letting the vibrations and rhythms undulate through me. I couldn't get my head around the prayers and talking though. Despite all the demonstrations of religious respect and reverance prior to this it seems that people didn't really take much notice of the monks when they were speaking.  Every time the head monk spoke or prayed, many people appeared disinterested and continued to chatter and communicate with one another. The family in front of us had bizarrely brought a tiny, skinny, half-bald, shivering laptop with them and gave most of their attention to entertaining it, clutching it and retrieving it after it scrambled from their arms. One of them spent most of the time fiddling with their Android phone and even took a telepone call half-way through a prayer. The monks didn't seem to mind so much though and remained focused on their blessings.

After this, we then watched and waited as each plate of food was loaded onto the trays and presented to the head monk, who took what he wanted and rolled the rest to the next monk in line. The food was served by the apparent leaders of the 'congregation':  the head monk recieved the food directly from the man but the woman was required to place the food in front of him so that he could use a cloth to retrive it. Each monk kept a separate pile for drinks and used the lid of their bowls as a plate for fruit but everything else went in their giant bowl together. I was fascinated (and a little squeamish) as they piled boiled eggs, curry, jam roly-poly, chicken and chilli, sweet jellies, fish and every other food there on top of the rice in their bowls. Another blessing later and they all tucked in.

Then came the free-for-all frenzy. Now the monks were eating, it was time for everyone else to grab what they wanted and sit in small groups of family and friends to polish off whatever was left. It was all surprisingly good humoured despite the fact that everyone seemed to have eyed-up and grabbed the dishes brought by other people. We were a little bemused at this point as we really weren't sure what to do but Noknoi got a few of the things that were left we sat down together to enjoy a few cold curries and stews for breakfast.
Afterwards, I followed Noknoi to wash the plates and return them to the big pile in the corner of the temple while everyone else filed outside. Songkran is a water and white powder festival and so were were expecting something along the lines of what we'd seen in Nepal but it was all very tame indeed. There were a few buckets of water and scoops placed around the *Bodyah* tree so that people could pour water into the hands of the large, cross-legged Buddhas surrounding it, and we were dampened gently on the shoulder or hands a few times but it was all very tame and respectful.

We poured water on the Buddhas and wished several people a happy Songkran before climbing back aboard the truck and heading back. On the way back we festivities started heating up slightly and we were pelted with water and talcum powder by a few passing jeeps and people assembled outside shops and hotels. More uncomfortable however, were the number of face lashings I recieved from the overhanging trees because I didn't catch the multi-lingual warnings and kept turning around at the wrong time!

Back at the resort, we changed our clothes and prepared ourselves to go back out and water battle! (See highlights and lowlights earlier)

11th April - Trat to Koh Mak

Opposite Da' Guy was a cafe called 'Cool Corner'. We'd eyed it up a few times because it claimed to have home-made brown bread (Oh, how I miss grainy loaves!) but hadn't quite made it there yet. Until this morning, when we entered into it's beautifully decorated interior with its wonderful paintings and quirky menus on CD and DVD cases and enjoyed the finest breakfast yet. Simple but delicious scrambled egg on toast.

We still couldn't decide on another island or Cambodia and so I extended my pleasure in my surroundings by undertaking my favourite past-time of reading the guest books. They were really useful for both alternatives and, with a little input from the lovely cafe lade, we eventually decided on Koh Mak.  We booked a catarmaran online, the lady in our hotel organised a free pick-up and by 1.30 pm we were on our way in a songthaew.

At the pier, we waited ages in the sun for them to load piles of produce before we were allowed on the boat. After a little snooze, a Thai lady behind us started a conversation that would lead to a few days of friendship. She said that her English-speaking friends called her Rose. I thought she said her name was Lois (oops) so I was glad I got her to write it down.

We had only booked one night in accomodation because it was Songkran weekend (Thai new year) and we were expecting to have to have a good look around because everywhere would be packed more than on the bank holiday.

I started chatting to a white guy on the pier in the hope of finding out somewhere else to stay but couldn't help noticing that his legs made my mosquito munching suffering look like a paper-cut. They were a mess. A pussy, infected battleground of scars, bites and pits that he was clearly aggravating more by standing there scratching. I asked whether he was catching the boat back to Trat and he told me he was waiting for produce for the restuarant where he was a chef. I quickly found out where he worked so we could give it a very wide berth!

There was no sign of a pick-up form our hastily arranged accommodation so Rose gave us a lift on the back of her truck, along with all of the fascinating fruits she's bought to stock up her shop.

We checked into our bungalow at Koh Mak Cottage after just a minor confusion. There were big, open spaces to let the mosquitos and crawlies inside and the bathroom like a slaughterhouse but we'd seen worse and it was right on the beach.

We walked along beach, having an explore and looking for somewhere else for the rest of the weekend. There was an equally cheap one (that we had to show ourselves around) with a slightly nicer hut but it was surrounded by lots of standing water so we weren't still weren't sure.

After checking out the length of the beach before it disappeared into the sea, we went for food at Rosie's mum's restaurant. When she found out how the search had gone, she called her friend's place, Baan Ing Kao. Within 15 mins they had sent a guy on a moped so Matt could go view it. He really liked it and booked one of their bungolows right by the water.

Back at the restaurant we ate disappointing food, including weird 'vegetable noodle' made with overcooked lasagne sheets and gravy. Rosie had assured us that it was the best but then went out and came back with something she'd bought for herself which looked loads nicer. She said it was because her mum was too tired to cook but I'm not convinced.

We bought a coconut from her stall and headed back to our bungalow, where Matt attacked it with a hand-held chainsaw from his dad, so I could eat the flesh. The saw said on the packing that it could cut through bone but, even though Matt did eventually get into it, I wont be employing the pair of them for amputations any time soon!

10th April - Trat

Waking up it looked like we'd avoided all of the potential nightime 'visitors' that our hut allowed access to. Nevertheless, since we'd taken a bit of a shine to Trat and had decided to stay another night, we took a look around for alternatives and found Da' Guy - which was very cheap and had a private bathroom.

Since Matt had sheepishly owned up to finally actually losing his hat for good in the songthaew we took yesterday, we ventured to the day market. There was a stall selling manufacturing samples of the hats from company uniforms and Matt was predictably enchanted. He was captivated by the McCafe or Chicken Shack ones but I reminded him of the Chairman Mao bag and the fact that people could not read his mind and eventually convinced him that no-one would know he was being ironic. Having spent several tortorous and laborious months shopping for hats with Matt before, I gave him a time limit. The end result was his selection of a black cap with a sports logo on that neither of us could recognise. Which reminds me, I really must take a picture to see if anyone else out there can help us to identify it. Though please tell me rather than Matt so I can can judge whether it's going to make him want to get rid of it and buy a new one!

Still on the search for swinwear so I could avoid any more primary-school-reminscint underwear sunbathing, we asked the lady at the guesthouse where we could buy a large bikini. She was convinced there was a shop that would sell them and drew it on our (already hand-drawn) map. We walked around all afternoon looking for it (and yes, I am a hypocrite but Matt did misplace his hat at least once!) but couldn't find it. The nearest we got was a store called Chickee where we were attended by a tiny lady with HUGE boobs and disturbing bright blue contact lenses in. They had no bikinis with tops to fit but had some larger looking bras so I gave them a look while we were there. Bizarrely, their bras only had one size measurement on them and when I tried to unsuccessfully determine whether the number referred to rib size or cup, I struggled to make her understand. Determined to make myself understood, I then tried to use the attendents unlikely frame as a reference point and we left very shortly after that before it got any more embarrassing.

As we searched further, we came across a lady selling sugar-cane juice. It was (unsurprisingly)  too sweet and (more suprisingly) made me incredibly silly. Unusually, I had been craving sweet drinks though so on the back of coconut juice, chocolate soya milk, iced-coffee, (Thailand's own invention) Red Bull, perhaps it wasn't so surprising that I ended up as giddy as a schoolgirl as we walked around our last-ditch attempt of Tesco - where there wasn't a single bikini to be found.

As we headed past Trat department store on our way back, we decided to try and work out my bra size in a more conventional way. I soon regretted this. The lady measured me and then spent the next half hour passing me massive looking, over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder type affairs; none of which fit me. I decided to stick to my sports bra after all.


After dinner at the night market, we spent several hours sat outside trying to make cards on Moonpig. While Matt was doing his technical bit, I had decided to investigate why mosquitos find us so damn attractive. Unfortunately, this led to following links about bed bugs (we've met several people who've been blessed) and subsequently led on to be being so paranoid that I could not settle. It really didn't help that our hours outside had led to countless bugs dropping off us when we sat on the bed and so we had to remove a whole manner of ants, beetles and general crawlers. Icky!

9th April - Koh Samet to Trat

We needed to move on but were in two minds whether to give Koh Chang a try because we'd heard many mixed views of its island delights. After taking the boat from Koh Samet to Ban Phe, we had the chance to get a direct minibus there but since we were being tight after splashing out on accomodation and didn't want to wait the half hour until it arrived, we took the public transport option: a songthaew from Ban Phe to Rayong bus station and then a bus to Chantibury.

It didn't take long until we realised our mistake. After a bried spell of watching Alien on the tiny, grainy TV in the bus station, out bus arrived: steaming. The driver calmy got out, opened the door to the engine and poured a bottle of water over it. Nevertheless, we were all herded on and charged our fare then left to wait a while while the bus took its time to start.

After engine cut-outs along the mai road, the driver pulled into a petrol station, fiddled with the engine, turned up the idle revs and then dusted his hands with satisfaction as the engine started more efficiently.

Finally arriving in Chantibury we were descended on by a very persisent taxi driver. He told us we weren't in enough time to catch the last boat to Koh Chang and though we weren;t sure whether to trust him, we didn't want a repeat of our Koh Samet arrival. We still weren't certain about going to Koh Chang and since we'd done things the ridicuous way, we decided to justify our journey by heading to Trat so we could make our way to Cambodia from there in the morning. You could also get to Koh Chang relatively easily from there just in case we changed our minds.

Despite getting a bit rattled by the snappy lady at the bus station, our bus to Trat arrived bearing cooling fans, a toilet and a nice conductor lady so I soon felt like a winner as we set off to Trat.

Arriving in Trat in darkness and having travelled several more hours than we woud have done if we'd just waited for the mimibus, a kind taxi driver pointed us towards the guesthouse area of the town. We looked at a couple but one called Tattoo had a cheap bamboo hut that Matt took a shine to so we stuck our stuff there. They also had a boxing ring and Thai boxing lessons that I was hoping to get a bash at at some point.
We's passed a night market when arriving so headed back there for food. They were  winding down but we stood around looking awkward enough for someone to help fix us a tasty noodle soup. We followed it uo with the first of many fruity iced drinks. I opted for passionfruit but when I tasted it, it was both sweet and salty. My initial disgust turned into a feeling of wellbeing as it replaced what the heat had stripped out of me and left me feeling revived.

8th April - Koh Samet

We'd decided to make the most of our guesthouse and it's location and amenities so slept late, showered and spent some time sitting on the beautiful balcony raised over the sea while I blogged. Lovely.

Lunch at Ao Noi Na was fabulous again and they forgot to make our food so we got scrummy pineapple crush freebies and enjoyed sitting by sea a bit longer.

We then headed back to the little private beach attached to our guesthouse for our first bout of sunbathing this trip. We hadn't seen anyone on it before and so were looking forward to relaxing in peace and tranquility and pretending we owned the place.

I'm not sure if they were attracted to our pasty bits but it didn't take long before we were invaded by tanned, lithe blondes. This was expecially bad for my self esteem since I still hadn't found a bikini and so had made my own from plain black pants and sportbra.

To make matters worse, it also wasn't long before I noticed a growing number of perfectly round, red, flat circles on my skin. And as soon as a spotted one of the little black flies filling up his rear end with  my lovely red blood I became a lot more aware of frequent sharp stinging sensations. Still, despite being a bit irritating at the time, they didn't seem to sting, itch or hurt after that so I stayed put until I looked like I had the chicken pox. Oh, how naive and foolish I was. Due to the fact that I don't think I've ever been on a beach holiday, little did I know of the horrors of sandflies. A few days later, the first day of a constant burning itch turned into over two weeks of living to regret my beach bumming!

We spent our evening having dinner at Ao Noi Na and chatting to Sammy and Beth, who we briefly met yesterday. They were doing a bit of holidaying on their way home from a year living in Hanoi. Sammy had taught English there so I picked his brains a little as to what it what like. He didn't recommend it but said the money was great.

They had spent the day on a different beach nearby and Sammy in particular was suffering from sunburn. Despite the fact Beth was humourless and did not appreciate my 'milky-arse' joke about the time I burnt my bum cheeks in Greece and had to sooth them with yoghurt, nor the thoughtless and sexually inappropriate comment I made on why I wouldn't want to have twin girls, we had quite a nice time and found out some recommendations for Cambodia. A few rounds of table tennis between me and Sammy also suggested that he enjoyed loosening up a lot more than she did.

7th April - Koh Samet

We had an early start to hire our first moped (automatic with Matt as the driver of course!) and set out to find a less stinky, less wonky place to stay. Since we weren't so fussed about staying on the busy beach, we headed inland a little.

We started off at a guesthouse called Tip Samed, where the guy wanted 800 for a fan room per night for a room we could not see. I asked a fella, Andy, who was just coming out of his room what it was like and he told me it was reasonable but that he'd seen a nice place further round, past the pier and closer to a different beach. He was a nice fella and we stopped to chat for a while. He was a similar age to us and him and his wife were in the dying throes of their own year long trip.

As we walked away, Matt mentioned that he didn't expect to bump into so many people traveling for a year too. I thought he was a bit naive at first and laughed at him for thinking he was going to be unique, but actually he had a point. You go to work every day and the fact that everyone else around you is there every day too (not so much every day in the case of Belper School but I'm sure you're still following) makes you believe that that's what everyone does and that it what is right. People may work different hours doing different jobs in different places and some of them are satisfied and happy but they all give over their lives to making money to keep everything afloat. But then you come away and travel and everyone else is also doing the same thing as you too. Different countries, different lengths of time, different interests and different ways of funding their travels, It's just that none of them seem to be paddling so hard to keep themselves afloat, they just seem to be drifting along on lilos.

Of course, many of these people are the priveliged and prepared childless traveller, but not all of them are. All of them however, see more choices than restrictions. They are more at ease with their days, months and years and none of them are moaning about any work they do have to do to continue doing what they want to do. We haven't met anyone yet who can't just say 'Enough' and go home if they want to, and have come across plenty of people who are looking forward to being back home. But, apart from missing our friends and family, we can't imagine that yet.

So, I had no right to tease Matt for thinking that work was all there was because work was all there was for him. I was the idiot who forgot this. So I'm sorry Matt, I'm a dufus, now let's get on with our story.

So we quickly found the recommended place and it was lovely. Nice atmosphere, lovely places to sit and relax and it's own private beach. They wanted 650 with air-con and shared bathroom so we snapped their hands off. In retrospect, just hope I had the sense to take a photo of it so you can see. We were quite enjoying our task and didn't need to check out of the stinky stilt shack just yet so we kept on looking down the road in case we wanted to stay another night.

Further down found Ao Noi Na Resort, run by an English guy named John and we chatted to him for a short while. His rooms were more expensive (though they were actual bungalows) and we couldn't stretch that far but since he assured us that his wife was a fabulous cook, we said we'd go back for dinner.

On the way back we passed Andy again and stopped to tell him we'd found the place he suggested. He was talking to a rather weepy looking young British girl who'd had some problems with her and her friends rooms and was desperately searching around for somewhere else.

We mentioned there were more places down where we'd just been and Matt offered to take her on the moped. She didn't look convinced and I reassured her that he wouldn't steal her. She said that she just didn't want to put us out and we insisted it wasn't a problem. As they rumbled away I couldn't help feeling like we had actually forced her into it.

Matt came back shortly after but without the girl in tow. She'd insisted on being left there and making her own way back. Matt had told her it wasn't necessary but started to feel a bit weird trying to convince her it wasn't a problem when she was so adamant.

Back at stinky stilt shack I stayed and did some blogging while Matt did the luggage run with the backpacks. He had to do them both seperately and then come back for me but was cleary enjoying himself.
After settling in at Tony's, perusing his menu and deciding we didn't fancy schnitzel or chips, we headed back to Ao Noi Na Resort for lunch. We bumped into a much happier Roxy who had found somewhere very cheap, almost oppositte where we were - though it was near a creepy cat shelter. She joined us for lunch and we soon found out that John was right about his wife's cooking. We sat on a table on the grass overlooking the sand and sea and chatted to Roxy about her adventures.

She'd travelled with a group of fellow Jerseyians and was happy to talk about Jersey and her experiencing travelling. She was a bit ditsy but really interesting to talk to. She'd had a job in Laos being a rep and no-one had told her how often she needed to work to earn her bed and board. After almost 2 weeks of constant drinking and promoting, she was totally burnt out. She also told us stories of how she's been ripped off in India and various other places. When she later said, 'Oh, you do have to pay to get out of Cambodia so make sure you have some money on you',  we didn't have the heart to tell her she'd been ripped off again.
The rest of the day was spent exploring the island on the bike. We headed over dirt tracks and to one of several other beaches, but wasn't as great as we'd imagined so went to find Ao Wai, which was apparently the best. After a while the roads got even more insane. The brakes were so hot and the grip so crappy that I had to climb off at every sleep incline and decline. We even quads turn back but we'd come too far to give up and so soldiered on.

We'd had to agree with the guidebook earlier when it mentioned that the island was being ruined by overdevelopment, despite its National Park status. It was quite dirty in places and people very much neglected it's beautiful shoreline. When we got deeper into the island we realised that what we had seen was nothing. It looked like someone occassionally collected all of the crap from the outskirts and dumped it in huge piles in the forests within. National Park indeed, it was more like India than Exmoor.

Ao Wai however, was definitely lovely and was probably stunning a few years ago. The beach was small and that made the range of resorts there looked like they'd just been piled on top of it. We played int he sea for a while and enjoyed the warm water and lovely views as well as having a swing in a hammock. I say 'swing' but it was so low that my bum touched the ground and made it even less comfortable!

The return journey was easier after the brakes had cooled and we had developed a taste for swimming and so spent sunset in the sea back at Had Saikey before returning the bike and walking back to our hotel along the beach front - our first leisurely stroll rather than sweaty errand-run.

We stopped at a nice restaurant for reasonable food and enjoyed lying on the traditional Thai loungers that we see everywhere, watching the huge moon in the sky and the people walking past.

On the way back we saw several fire shows, put on for the benefit of the customers in the beach bars. First we saw a troop of young boys performing tricks that were very impressive but that I found difficult to enjoy, since I'm not exactly comfortable with pre-pubescent boys being paraded down the beach every night to perform tricks for foreigners involving the inhalation of such quantities of petrol fumes. It was intoxicating for us and we were far away. Matt admitted that he thought the same but was mainly just envious of their perturbingly manly pecs.

Further down we saw a group of adult blokes doing a similar show. No complaints from me about the pecs here though!

6th April - Ban Phe to Koh Samet

We slept very late till 11, packed our bags and brunched at a place that should have been called Cafe Disinterested. The food wasn't great and Matt's pork wasn't cooked properly. He didn't really notice until the end of the meal though so we were expecting fun time when we got to the island.

We bought the ticket for the ferry to Ko Samet and seemed to have to undergo endless ticket validation, unlike all of the Thai people who were obviously off on their bank holiday jolly. Since Koh Samet is a National Park, we were also collared to pay the fee for this even though we didn't see anyone else paying it. We had read that a fee was needed though so weren't too worried about it. The worst thing was sporting the sticker that they insisted we wore but which made us feel like children.

We arrived at Had Saikaey pier where there was no sign of the 'free taxi' we were told was part of our fee so we just took the bouncy jeep. It turned out that the beach that the owner of Tawan had recommended was not too far away.

Many of the resorts and bungalows were directly on the beach so we spent an embarrassing 10 minutes stumbling in the sand and heaving our bags past all of holiday-makers and weaving between the sunbathers. It was too hot and uncomfortable so Matt left me with the bags while he went to search out some accommodation.

I waited so long that the lady fixing inflatable dinghies and toys on the beach started to feel sorry for me and I started to feel much sorrier for Matt. When he came back he told me that every place was so full that when he'd managed to find somewhere with a room, he'd taken it, even though the man had told him that it was normally 300 baht but he was going to charge him 500 for it because of the bank holiday. He warned me not to expect much.

A 15 minute trek later Sea Breeze bungalows looked very nice with their bright pastel colours and their wooden balconies. Matt led me down the path which cut through them, past some less swanky ones to the very, very poorest relation.

The room on stilts was a real sight. There were holes taped up with gaffer tape and the floor dipped in the middle so flimsy, stained dressing table leaned at a jaunty angle. Other holes were left uncovered and there was a pervasive smell of mould. The bathroom had no sink and the toilet had no flush so there was an old, large container with a bowl in it instead. To the room's credit there were some curtains with cheery slogans on.

We took a quick shower and grabbed our stuff to so down to the beach and make the most of the remaining sunshine. About 10 minutes worth as it turned out so we abandoned sunbathing, dropped our beach stuff back off and turned our attention to finding food instead. Luckily, Sea Breeze beach restaurant was better than Sea Breeze accomodation and we enjoyed some Pad Thai whilst watching to moon and listening to the sound of the waves.

The rest of the evening was spent wandering up and down the beachfront accomodation trying to find somewhere more suitable to stay on the following day. Everywhere was full or way out of our price range but at least we got a taste of the atmosphere in each place in case we wanted to visit any of their bars and restaurants later. There were some possibilities but most need checking out tomorrow.

Now we were in a holiday place, my practical travelling clothes felt somewhat inadequate and frumpy so we also checked out some bikinis and beachwear. I did bring a swimming costume but because it was the one I wore for swimming in Belper, it was extremely conservative and make me look about 50 compared to all of the other bikinied beach-goers. I'm not holding out much hope though since many thai girls are tiny. The usual responses from shop owners have ranged from the rather diplomatic, 'Only Thai sizes' to the rather more direct, 'No really big clothes'. Nice.

5th April - Bangkok to Ban Phe

We packed our bags, did some more planning and headed out to find lunch before we left. We were accompanied by the girl from the hostel again, as she was taking us to show us where to get 'the best papaya salad'. I left her and Matt at the stall as I went to collect the adjusted clothes but when I got back Matt was looking significantly pale and sweaty. He told me that he had just (discretely) vomited foam on a crocodile in the 'canal'. Well, he'd chucked up in the canal and had seen a crocodile at the same time but that doesn't sound as good. The girl thought Matt was just struggling in the heat and so sweetly sent us back to the hostel to wait.

The Doxycycline anti-malaria medication was blamed for the queasiness but it didn't help Matt much that the food was crazy spicy or that we were joined by Kathleen. She was passing time before she went on a date with the old expat guy she had told us about the other night but openly divulged various key facts about her sex life. She also told us about her adoption of a baby in Thailand many years ago and that was much more interesting and quite a tragic but heartwarming story of a different time. As the time came to meet her date, she unceremoniously said her goodbyes and trundled off without her 'walker' in an attempt to make herself more sexy.

Lauren turned up straight after. She was heading to Australia that day and was just having lunch before she left too so we sat for a while shared ideas of places to see before we all left for the Metro.

Now Bangkok Metro has the most useless security system in the world.  It beats the Hong Kong system of having a line of workers who side-step in front of the Metro doors after the warning beeps go to make sure that no-one gets stuck trying to squeeze past them. Apparently the trains do still set off and people have been torn from their limbs. It also beats the Chinese system of having an x-ray machine and a person to tell you to use it, even though most people just walk straight past. It even beats the Indian system of having a metal detector with enough space to walk around it and avoid it altogether. What Bangkok does is employ someone to stand at the entrance to every station and briefly check the top of your bag. Every person carrying a bag has to stop, unzip their bag and open it up so that someone can shine a torch into it and wave you through. There's no x-ray and not even a metal detector. They don't even make you remove any contents or unzip all of the compartments. They just salute you, shine a light on whatever is in the top of your bag and send you on your way. Every single person is checked but not a single one of them is even questioned. As long as they remember to put their bomb and their gun under their purse then they are considered to be secure.

Most of the time we found it comical, but when we have to unload our backpacks and find they key to unlock them just so someone can shine a torch on the carrier bag containing the dirty underwear that we have stuffed into the top, it becomes a bit of a pain.

We said goodbye to Lauren at the second stop and she continued to the airport while we made our way to the bus-station. Matt got his bum trapped in a speedy electronic gate and got a bit of a bruise but other than that it was quite simple.

The bus to Ban Phe (where we could catch the boat to Koh Samet island) was one of the better ones we have been on on our travels. There was somewhere to store our bags, there was cold-air blowing from the vents and they gave us a carton of water and a packet of 3 fake Jammy Dodgers. The children's version of a 'Pop Idol' type programme blaring on the TV was less than desirable but tone-deaf children warbling songs that sound awful even when they're sung well is not the worst thing we've had to deal with on public transport.

Unfortunately, we arrived at the town Ban Phe late so the town was already in darkness and the late boat had left. Leaving the pier, we were tired, hot and grotty and so took the first room we were offered and at the price we were offered. More fortunately, even though it was expensive for us, Tawan Guesthouse was clean and nice.

We freshened up and took a walk down the road to look at the beach on the mainland side. It was pretty dirty and not very nice to look at but there was a storm in the clouds over the ocean so we bought ourselves a beer from Tesco and sat down on a rock.

Back at Tawan, we shared a "rum" (I'm sure it was whisky) with owner of guesthouse and his boyfriend and they told us that no-one ever really goes in the sea from the mainland but that Koh Samet was better. It didn't have the greatest write-up in our guidebook though so we'll have to see.

4th April - Bangkok

For breakfast we thought we'd try the chicken place that Kathleen had recommended. Apparently he started cooking early in the morning and had sold out by lunchtime so breakfast was the best time to indulge.
The chicken stall stood on the edge of the stangnant 'canal' than ran the length of the street round the corner from our hostel. The smell of it barbequeing somehow overpowered the stench of the water and could make your mouth water from 100 paces.

On the way, we were chatting away when I suddenly felt something much bigger than the usual mosquito or ant bite my thigh. I yelped and turned round to see a brown dog, scurrying away and looking back at me with an odd doggy look on his face. It dawned on me what had happened and the sickness and panic set in.
Matt coaxed me back to the hostel and half a minute later I was stood in their foyer, snotty, sweaty and sobbing. I went to the toilet to check if the skin was broken but it was only bruised. The concerned receptionist asked what had happened and asked what the dog had looked like.

Still shaking, Matt made me eat some chicken and we discussed what would make a dog that didn't growl or bark, make a grab at my leg and not the fresh, tasty chicken that was in Matt's hand. Matt suggested my flappy Indian trousers and I had to agree it was possible, although they may have also saved me from a better aimed bite.

Then the rain started. There was no pitter patter leading up to a steady beat but simply a big crash that didn't stop ringing. It was the first rain we'd seen in so long and the first taste of air even slightly fresher than that in a steam room, so we ran outside and got drenched. The receptionist and surrounding locals looked a bit bemused to see me opened armed and face-to-the-sky when they were all fleeing inside but it couldn't have come at a better time than for me.

We needed to get some clothes adjusted and Matt wanted to have his hair cut so the lady owner of the hostel sent her younger sister to show us where the best place for a hair cut was. The rain susbsided a little and gave us an excuse to carry a big brolly for protection but I was still super-nervous walking to the alleyway of the dog.

The girl asked the barber for some magazines of sample haircuts so that Matt could select one and explained that he would be next in line if he sat and waited. We'd passed an old man with a sewing machine sat on the corner of the street and I asked her to help me to explain to him what needed to be done to the clothes. It was fairly straight forward despite the numerous requests of what the clothes needed and I was soon back in the barber shop.

Matt was sat looking at very dated pictures of hairstyles, including a few punky numbers and the odd mullet, but had narrowed it down to a few. I took a picture of the one we wanted so we could compare it to the later result.

When Matt's turn came he sat in the chair and took off his glasses. He said it was so they didn't get in the way but I think he just didn't want to look! The barber was very lovely and completely helpful, miming questions about what was required and checking with me that he was doing what we wanted. The range of tools that he used, far exceeded the number that had been used on Matt's hair over his entire lifetime and about half an hour later, something was starting to take shape. The barber in Belper seemed not to know what to do with long hair and generally gave Matt something approximating a 'bob', but this guy was doing a cracking job.

After a final trimming of the length at the back, he moved on to Matt's beloved beard. It was soon very short and looking great so we asked him to go one step further give the bottom section around Matt's neck, a closer shave. Out came the cut-throat and within an hour we had a very new looking, slightly covered in baby powder, Matt. The guy who was patiently waiting his turn in line gave it a big thumbs up and the barber agreed to pose for a photo with his new work of art.

When we went to pay, the barber held up his hand to show five fingers. Matt said that it must been 50 baht but since that was such a small sum, I found that very unlikely. I wasn't thinking properly and scrapped around to find 500 baht to pay him. When I handed over the money he just laughed at me and handed it back. Turns out a hunky new Matty only costs £1! Bargain!

We had to go back to the hostel so Matt could have a shower to get rid of all the fine hairs that were sticking to him and we were half way there when we realised that we'd forgotten our brolly. The barber looked very relieved to see us and pointed towards where he had hung it for safekeeping.

There was no sign of the dog on the way back but I still didn't fancy risking another run-in so we chilled out for a while in our air-conditioned room and looked at making a few plans. We wanted to go for a Thai massage and had thought we might visit the one recommended on the wall at the hostel in the evening.
We were joined in our room by a big French guy who had a flat in Thailand and was just hanging around without a job at all. He recommended a different, significantly cheaper massage place so we thought we'd give that a try. It was so cheap that even if it was rubbish, we wouldn't have lost much if we then went to the posh place too.

I had a quick conversation with the owner of the hostel who told me that she had had to call City Hall to report the dog. I explained that it was probably only playing because it had not given us any warning but she was unconvinced, explaining that many dogs went mad in the heat and had to be dealt with. I tried to persuade her to tell me that the dog would go on doggy holiday but I could tell from her face that it wasn't the case. Poor dog. I'm sure he didn't mean it.

The massage place was over a pizza shop but looked pretty ok when we walked in. We selected our massage from the board and were taken upstairs to a darkened room, where there were a series of 'beds' on the floor. We were led past the lady being contorted by a strapping great masseur and told to put on some pyjamas. It felt a little like a visit to an odd hospital when she drew the curtain around each of our individual beds.

We changed and opened the curtains between us, whispering and giggling a little when two woman turned up. They had a short discussion about which one of us to take and I was assigned the young one, while Matt got the older one with her wrist in an elasticated bandage.

They started work straight away, working the muscles in our calves in a non-too-comfortable way. They both had slightly different sequences and I kept glancing over at Matt, wondering how he was coping with the drastic techniques and hoping that my lady was a little more gentle with me. Seconds later, I was chuckling uncontrollably as this tiny lady put her hands on my thighs at either side of my groin and then leaned all of her weight onto it. She did not miss a beat and continued on while I tried to compose myself. It was so uncomfortable, tender, alien and not at all funny but I struggled to to stop. Eventually I got my breathing into shape but still could not relax. It did not help that  we were so vulnerable and both women constantly talked to one another, most likely about us.

We were manipulated, twisted, crawled on, cracked, pressed, poked and pummelled for the next 40 mins until both ladies held their palms together, bowed their heads, thanked us and left. We grinned and grimaced at each other in the darkness and tried to dress in silence as the woman next to us continued to whimper, gasp and murmer behind her curtain.

I did not feel any more relaxed or an less achey than before we had gone in and my feet still throbbed and so we decided to stay for a foot massage. Matt was a little hesistant after his first experience of a massage but I persuaded him that this time would be less intrusive.

The ladies had swopped and the bandage had come off so both of us were a little more comfortable. Unfortunately, my lady was the manager of the place and now we were downstairs in the the reclining chairs next to the reception, she was a lot more distracted and kept stopping to deal with other things.
Nevertheless, the massage felt much more like the tension relief that I needed, especially when it was completed with a quick shoulder and head massage - and just one weird little crack of course.

As we walked back to the Metro, Matt was still not convinced about the massage as a whole but I felt a little better.  Although we both resolved to try again later but pay more cash next time. We had planned to see more of Bangkok's evening sights but were hungry and so decided to give the seedier side a miss and go to find the duck noodles we'd been told about. Despite a long search we didn't find them, but we did find our first genuine Thai curry so weren't too disappointed.

Just after we'd returned to the hotel, a girl turned up to check in. The hostel only had opening hours of 7am to 9pm and so there was no-one there to assign her a room or a key. We felt a bit awkward letting her in but since no-one was answering the phone number left on reception, we couldn't just leave her outside. We weren't sure she understood the problem because she kept looking at Matt like he was being difficult. Luckily, a girl from the female dorm, Lauren, was in the commom room chatting to Anderson (a guy from our dorm) and so she let her into the room.

I spent some time talking to Lauren after Matt and Anderson went to bed. She was really lovely and was very brave to be travelling on her own at 19. She's left her boyfriend behind and come to explore (mostly the beaches of) Cambodia and Thailand. She was interesting to talk to because she shared many of the ambitions I'd had at the same age but had perhaps done a little bit more about them.

3rd April - Bangkok

We took the advice of our hostel owner (I can't remember fer name but she was like a smug and patronising Roseanne Barr) and took the Metro, then Skytrain to meet a boat that we could use to explore many of the major attractions of the city.

We started off in the Chinese quarter. Well actually we got off at the stop before the Chinese quarter because the ticket conductor lady was a grump and woudn't listen to our question. However, we soon made it to the markets and had a good wander around. Apart from the few shop fronts we'd passed with Chinese characters rather than Thai, we wouldn't really see what was very Chinese about it and it looked like a pretty typical Thai market with lots of seafood and seafood products as well as vegetables and colourful, handmade sweets. There were also lots of flowers and garlands on display which we assumed were in anticipation of the new year.

We decided to explore further afield and had just stopped to buy some pineapple when the husband of the lady on the stall stopped us to talk.  His name was Som and he spoke pretty good English. When we commented on it he told us that he was in the army and had taught himself English out of books. Som asked us what we had seen in Bangkok so far and we told him we were having our first day of exploring the city sights. He told us that Wat Pho was a must but, since it was a public ceremony,  it was closed for ceremonies until 1pm. He then took our map and drew his recommendations all over it in thick blue pen, he even incuded the route we should take them in and gave us some information on the difference between government and private tuk tuks ( apparently the license plate colour) and the price we should pay. One passed while we were still talking and Som pointed out the license plate. Seeing we were talking about him, the driver pulled over. Som pointed out where we wanted to go and negotiated the price to take us there, which at less than a quid, was a snip compared to India.

In just a few minutes, we'd acquired a plan, a route, transport and some pineapple and were on our way. It took just a few minutes longer for us to start wondering if it was all too convenient and we were being scammed. Still, we has our wits about us and always had the option to change drivers and so sat back and enjoyed being in a tuk tuk in congested city traffic again. It wasn't white-knuckle ride of India without the market stalls and wandering animals but we felt like we were adventuring again. Our driver Somkit, spoke reasonable English and so we chatted on the way, learning about his family and sharing our pineapple.
Our first stop was a temple with a reclining Buddha. It wasn't as big as the one at Wat Pho but was worth a look. We were met at the entrance by 'Mr Chuan Vanit' who welcomed us with a big smile and an enthusiastic greeting. The events so far had put Matt and I into India mode and we were instantly on our guard.

The temple was small but dominated by the huge Buddha. There are two arms positions in reclining Buddhas. One is supporting the head, signifying that the Buddha is resting, and is related to the story of the Buddha and the giant Asurindarahu (hence the symbolism of the size) and he other position is with the arm layed in front, which represents the Buddha passing away at the age of 80 and  entering Nirvana.
This Buddha was resting and covered in large and geniune gemstones. Mr Chuan Vanit asked if we wanted some luck and Matt and I both hesitated, looked at each other, wondered how much it would cost and mumbled a response about how we 'might'. Mr Chuang Vanit looked a bit confused and asked us several times, each time receiving a non-commital response. Eventually, still unsure of why we did not just say yes, he just told us that if we did we ought to pray to Buddha and he would give us some.

We chatted for a while about where we were from, football (we have no interest but it turns out many Thai people know British teams and players), how Thailand is the 'land of smiles' and the restoration of the temple. He asked us our plan for the day and we showed him our itinerary. He was particularly pleased that we had the 'Thai Factory' on our list. We'd assumed the Silk Factory would probably be a high-pressure sales moment but Mr Chuang Vanit said it was a very good place and did indeed contribute its profits to charities. He was surprised that we hadn't seen it mentioned on TV but was convinced of its greatness. We padded barefoot across the hot tiles back to the entrance, put our shoes back on and said our goodbyes.
On the way back to the tuk tuk, we stopped to admire the work of two men who were patiently restoring some figures back to their former, detailed glory. They stopped to smile and greet us and agreed to have a photo taken of them and their work.

Somkit was pleased we liked the temple and chatted to us as we rode on the tuk tuk past upteen shops selling different sized gold statues of Buddha, from inches high to great towering great giants. Many people who walked past were drinking coloured drinks through a straw from small plastic bags and we wondered at the toxic looking flavours.

We stopped at the 'Thai Factory' and were a little surprised about how un-factory like it was. When we walked in it was basically just a posh-looking little tailors, not the warehouse we were expecting. They looked very pleased to see us but didn't really bother perservering when we told them we weren't looking to get a new silk outfit. As much as I'd like to see Matt in a full silk suit, it's hardly practical for our current lifestyle and so we managed to make a smooth exit.

We were wondering whether we had started a commission-making tour instead of sightseeing and this was confirmed at the next stop: Tourist Information Thailand (TIT). We were greeted with attempted sincerity and directed to one of multitude of Travel Agent type desks. We knew then that this was not going to be independent advice for cheap things to do and so I decided to make sure I at least got a free wee out of it. The lady at the desk asked what we wanted to and immediately referred us to a different guy on a different desk. With all the charm of a snake trying to convince a mouse on his hoildays that his mouth was the opening to paradise and they only had to pay a 'small' fee, he started to outline the flaws in our plan. I nipped off to the loo and he was still telling Matt was a mistake he was making when I got back. We cut to the chase and asked him to recommend what he thought we should do instead of calling us idiotic for having our own plan and the conversation ended shortly after, with all our tempers very frayed.

Somkit asked if we'd found anything but we curtly told him that we hadn't and requested that we move on to the next place. We were now becoming more doubtful of our trip and so weren't expecting much but the Wat Traimitr was quite lovely.

We entered the grounds through pretty gardens and made our way into the main temple. It was possible that we should have paid but the man on the door was following the Thai tradition of sleeping on the job.

We had a look at the black statues of Buddha, cast into imitations of other famous Buddhas, which we arranged around the courtyard and made our way into the main temple to see the most famous Buddha. Three meters high and weighing in at five and a half tons, it was discovered during the extension of the port of Bangkok ond so a crane was brought in to move it. When it slipped while it was being hoisted, the stucco cracked, revealing the solid gold underneath. Turns out the statue was covered in stucco to protect it from the invading Burmese in the eighteenth century.

Alongside the main building ran a little canal and we took one of the small arched bridges over to the other side and marveled at the illustrious builings there for a short time before venturing further in and coming across a complex that reminded me of Butlins but where all of the monks lived.

Heading back to the main area, we were ask for the 20th time whether we wanted an ice-cream or a cold drink, circled the Bodhi tree, took a detour back over the bridge so Matt could play some giant drums and then sought refuge from the heat back in our tuk tuk.

Feeling more generous after seeing an actual sight, we then agreed to go to a gem outlet so that Somkit could get free fuel for commission. We appreciated his honesty and expcted to be able to wriggle out of it as easily as we had the silk shop. When we arrived we were given a lovely cold drink of mineral water and were given a tour of the place. There was a sign on the wall asking that the staff be informed if a tuk tuk driver had co-erced you there and wanted a free lift home and so we didn't feel under so much pressure. As it was I was absolutely taken with one of the rings I was shown and nearly indulged in a beautiful yellow sapphire set into a unique white gold ring. Fortunately (or not), Barclays still hadn't got back to me about my card and Matt was also playing the voice of reason so we left empty handed.

By this time, Somkit was getting pushy and asked us if we'd visit just one more place where he could get fuel. When we refused he started telling us we could help feed his children. As much as this pulls on my heartstrings it also really annoys me that people play on my empathy and so we stood our ground and were told this would be our last stop and were unceremoniously dumped outside Wat Pho.

After a freshly grilled fish and a selection of Thai dishes for our lunch, we strode into the nearest entrance of Wat Pho. Wat Pho is the largest and most famous temple in Bankok and contains one of the biggest reclining Buddhas, as well as being the respected centre of traditional thai massage. It's towers and colours reminded me quite a lot of the Goudi buildings in Barcelona and we spent a while looking around the different areas and a few of the 1000 golden Buddhas housed there but we were so hot that our hearts just weren't in it.

We took refuge in our hallowed 7 eleven to cool off and explored the streets a little. We accidentally came across the teaching centre for Wat Po massage and  considered doing a course but it would have been quite expensive and would have involved another week in Bangkok. I went away to think about it but it didn't seem fair to leave poor Matt waiting for so long while I spent our budget learning new skills so decided against it. I kind of wish that I hadn't and Matt assures me he wouldn't have minded so we'll see what happens in the future.

We got back on the boat and paid to go to the end of the 'line' just so that we could enjoy a boat ride past some of the more famous sites of Bangkok. I was feeling the effects of the sun and had a nap but still felt queasy when we arrived.

We took a walk around the street market stretching down the street. We stopped to be amused by the flip-flops and off t-shirts (including a confusing one that said 'Gegal and Leneral' and had the 'Legal and General umbrella on!) but I wasn't feeling so good so we didn't walk for long or far.

Back at the pier we stopped to watch a man feeding bread to hundreds of giant fishes in the water below. They were obviously more keen on the bread than we were because they were in a real frenzy. The man shared his rolls so that we could join in and we both enjoyed trying to get the food to the smaller ones instead of the giants.

We rode back down the river at dusk and watched the city light up as we went. It was a pleasent journey but I just wanted to lay dpwn and so was very grateful for the speed and efficiency of the Skytain and MTR when we got back to shore.

Back at the hostel, free coconut ice-cream, lots of water and a paracetamol seemed to sort me out and we got caught in another conversation with Kathleen, who tried very hard to convince us of the benefits of having a timeshare, even though she was no longer in the business of selling them. After insisting we go to her room to see some examples, she sent us to bed with a brochure each.

We didn't read them but Matt did look up the TIT. As expected, it wasn't the genuine tourist information centre though Som had actually marked down the genuine one but Somkit hadn't taken us there. The genuine one was called the TAT (Tourist Advice Thailand). Mistaking TIT for TAT is probably not uncommon.

2nd April - Bangkok

I'd had enough of constantly feeling frumpy or masculine or underdressed or hot so we spent the whole morning looking for more feminine, cooler clothes. I would have liked to do some market shopping but since I'm significantly larger than the average Thai lady, we ended up in Tesco Lotus and the Big C supermarkets. All the way in Thailand and I was buying clothes from flippin' Tesco!

My knees had also been gettng worse in the humidity, making steps and squat loos a dreaded necessity (I know! I'm getting so old!) so we also had quite long hunt for Glucosimine.

I did get Matt to try on some stuff too and had a go at persuading him to exchange his now massive clothes for something a little closer fitting but he said he wasn't ready for skin-tight shirts just yet.

Benjakitti Park

After the morning in the shops, we decided to check out the park that Nath has told us was like having 'Central Park' on the doorstep. On the way we saw a huge book fair wit loads of people there and decided to take a look. It was a bit of a foolish step given that we then had to fight our way back out when it dawned on us that pretty much every book was in Thai! Soon after we came upon Benjakitti Park. Now I haven't been to America (yet!) but I'm sure that Central Park is significantly bigger and contains more 'park'. Not that that was too much of a problem because initially we could see it through the railings but couldn't get in so we had to walk the whole length of it looking for an entrance gate. Most of the park space was taken up by  Lake Ratchada but it was still rather nice. It was very hot so we sat by the lake for a while eating pineapple and Matt drifted off to sleep.

We'd been planning to reduce our loads for a while but wanted to wait for somewhere where our stuff would go to a good cause. We'd asked the hostel lady and she said she was collecting together unwanted things from backpackers to take them to a local charity and so we spent a few hours sorting out our bags while we were waiting for our laundry to finish so we could hang it up. Matt had been being driven mad by his bag so I used by inherited packing skills (thanks mum!) to help.

I discovered that the rule about odd socks going missing in the wash was universal and spent ages lookig for the little blighter. I only have 3 pairs with me and though I could buy more, you apparently can't even get walking socks in Thailand, never mind leightweight, quick-drying, anti-mosquito walking socks.

We went for dinner at a local fried rice stall where one of the customers helped us out ordering what we wanted. It was good food but they did add the prawn legs seperate to the prawns and I had a job spotting them in the low light. More often than not I just had to fish them out of my mouth whenever I felt the crunch.
We spent the rest of the evening exploring the back streets. We had taken a wander down one of them, not expecting to find much and instead found out they were quiety humming with people going about their business. Many of the houses also seemed to be shops and small business so we walked past shoe-makers and ironmongers and general stores.

It was quite a change for us because even though it was actually fairly busy, it was really quite quiet and there was none of the shouting, calling or spitting we'd become accustomed to. Even though we were in Bangkok, we were on the outskirts and had seen very few white faces and yet we didn't draw any attention apart from the odd smile.

1st April - Hong Kong to Bangkok

We checked out of our tenement block hotel, went for a McDonald's because we didn't have time to find something worth eating and then caught the airport bus.

The waist clip of my bag got caught in the wheel of our trolley and snapped off so we spent a short while looking for a replacement one but to no avail. It's pretty crucial to me being able to get the flipping thing around though so hope we'll find one soon.

They told us at the airport that we could get on an earlier plane if we didn't mind not sitting together so we had a shorter wait than we expected. On the plane I was sat next to a nice Indian guy who'd been in China on business. He was a little shaken because the glass shower panel at his 4* hotel had not been affixed properly and had fallen off and shattered, embedding bits of itself into his leg, foot and face and so had spent the morning in hospital and then rushing to get his connecting flight to Hong Kong. He was interesting to talk to and I got to ask him lots of questions about his life and lifestyle. Unlike many people in India, him and his wife had elected to have just one child because they felt that this was the right thing to do and so we had a good discussion about that. She was a doctor but was taking time off work to look after the baby and 'relax'. We also talked about donating to charity and he told me that he only gave things to his servants and then it was only every old stuff and not money. I asked him more questions and he told me that he had three servants and that each of them were paid about £250 per month. I stopped short of asking him how much money he made (though we were often asked ourselves so it can't be too much of an offensive question) but it was intriguing to talk to someone who was so candid about their privilege. Since he spent about one month of my wages on servants and rent alone, it started to make more sense why anyone we met with money in India could not understand that we were on a budget.

Overall the plane journey was quiye enjoyable. I got to eat Indian food and also finally got to watch my Bollywood film. Well, half a Bollywood film but I still got to see dancing, singing and lots of very cheesy cheese. And since I was sat next to an Indian guy instead of Matt, I also got lots of encouragement! It wasn't the same as watching it in the cinema without a vibrating seat and lots of overexcited Indians but it was getting there.

Arrival in Thailand was straightforward and getting our Visa was the easiest yet. We just had to line up to get through immigration and they stamped our passports with an entry permit. They didn't even hassle Matt.
We took the Airport Express Train to Makkashan. It was full of people but eerily quiet. A few stops down the line I was offered a seat by a guy but we were getting off at the next stop. It turned out that he was getting off at the next stop too and was catching the same connecting Metro as us because he lived near our hostel. He offered to help us get there and we took the chance of actually getting to our destination easily for a change.

Anji & Nath

Nath turned out to be very helpful. He was a guide at Pattaya and so spoke very good English. He also used his guiding skills to point out places of interest, give us handy tips and recommend street stalls that would be safe for us to eat at. When we got to our metro stop, Queen Sirikit National Convention Centre, he asked around for us and soon deposit us safely at De Talak hostel. We offered to buy him a beer or something later and he refused, saying he just wanted to help.

We checked in and met an interesting lady sitting in the first floor shared area who started chatting to us as we made our way upstairs with the bags. She was very chatty and told us that she 'lived there' as well as filling us in on her health problems and  all sorts of stories about other peoples' exploits in the hostel. Our bags were getting very heavy so we made our excuses and left. The hostel was really shiny and clean and we had a dorm room to ourselves for the time being. We decided to head straight out and find the market that Nath had receommended to us to see if we could find a replacement clip for my bag but as we made our way downstairs we got caught again and so decided to make ourselves comfy for a 'quick' chat.

Kathleen was one of those people who just talks and talks and says whatever they think. She was 68 and had apparently decided not to bother checking herself or being diplomatic before. We got to hear more about her high blood pressure and experiences of Thai healthcare; her magnetism to men including a Thai taxi driver and an attractive old expat; her personal situation in America and life in Las Vegas; her amusement at hearing the story of a Thai terrorist who'd accidentally blown his own legs off and her very American and pretty racist opinion of terrorism and Muslims in general, just to name a few things. Half the time we didn't know what to do with ourselves and how to respond to her and the rest of the time we were biting our tongues and trying to make it clear to anyone who walked past that we were not affiliated with her. I say we, Matt was getting pretty sucked in to an episode of Junior Australian Masterchef whilst most of this was going on! The most shocking moment was when she said I would have to get used the 'bidet' style toilet system but that she quite liked it because she had the 'cleanest t**t' she'd every had! It was around that time that we'd backed away enough to make a break for it!

The first market we found in the darkness was a food market. We were glad we had closed shoes on because the ground sloshed with water from melted ice and the juices of fish, pigs and chickens and all the people working there wore wellies. There was meat at all stages of dismemberment. Groups of woman, stood around giant bowls,  yanking apart what I assumed were bits of chicken.  Carcasses of pigs also lay on slabs as men heaved and hacked to seperate them into the pieces they wanted. Younger men chopped away on small boards, piling up their work into buckets. Interspersed with these, people worked on stands, barbequing racks of meat and fish covered in homemade marinades. Matt tried some some chicken and said it was the best he'd ever tasted.

We explored the rest of the huge market, passing rows of glassy-eyed fish on trays of ice, piles of fish-related pastes and mush and all sorts of things we did and didn't recognise. Other sections had delicious looking vegetables and basket upon basket of pineapples of different sizes. The far end had chickens, piled up in cages, waiting to make their way the the other end of the market.

We left the food market and looked around for the general one that Nath had told us about but we were couldn't find it anywhere and were getting quite tired. We stopped on te square overpass bridge and watched more people at work. One woman was tackling a whole truck load of cabbages, chopping off the outer leaves before they went to market. Next to her, a group of young men unloaded box after box of fish from a lorry. The boxes were then emptied one by one so they could be methodically bashed on the head and passed down a kind of chute where we could not see what happened next. One of the boys unloading the lorry dropped a box of fish, and they flopped and wriggled across the main road, apparently trying to make a run for it. Cars and vans narrowly avoided hitting the fish and the guys trying to retrieve them. We called encouragement to one brave fish who almost made it to the other side and into the gutter before he was spotted glistening in the car headlights and retrieved. It seemed too sad to watch him end up in the chute and so we made our way back to the hostel and bed.