August 3, Day 6
Aug 3, Day 6
It wasn’t until the next morning over breakfast that I realized why I was so confused. It turns out I’m an idiot and assumed the half moon party would be on the same beach that they throw the full moon party, but it’s on a totally different ‘half-moon party’ beach. Whoops. Oh well, next time I’ll actually read the posters I guess. I took a ferry back to Koh Samui and took a cab to the only touristy spot in the area that I hadn’t yet been to: Hat Chaweng. On the way over I met a couple Canadian girls who were also teaching English in Korea, one who grew up on Vancouver Island, another who grew up in New Brunswick. The Vancouver Island girl had actually read the posters and gone to the right beach for the half-moon party. She made me realize just what I had missed from her stories. The fact that she still had some bright neon body paint splattered all over her arms face and legs from the night before only added to it. Must have been fun. Crap.
I pulled out Ben’s lonely planet guide that he lent me and just picked the first resort that they recommended for the beach, which was actually really awesome. It was a clean bungalow this time and it wasn’t on the beach but pretty close. It also had a cool rotating fan that went in a full circle on the ceiling pointing downwards, made for a comfy sleep for the next two nights for sure. From here I aimlessly walked up and down pretty much the whole beach, which was quite a walk, and eventually found a volleyball net that was just getting set up that interested me. We started out playing 2 on 2 with me and these 3 teenagers from Switzerland named Severin, Klaus, and Mark (one those names is not like the others hey?) and the game quickly built up. Two French kids joined in, both of which were quite good and some jolly older Italian guy hopped in as well, and by then I had lost count, we were subbing in and had the strangest mix of people doing any one thing that I have ever been a part of. It wasn’t really the best volleyball ever (not like I was ever that good at it anyways, I always had a wicked view from the bench though) but it was really quite fun, and surprisingly good considering the smorgasbord of people that were joining.
From here I did a little more walking, this time on the road following the beach to check out the night scene. I found all the places I had read about on the internet, and made a mental note as I went back home and grabbed some dinner a shower and a quick nap. Once I had finally left the bungalow it was nice and dark out and ‘whilst’ I was walking I met a guy from Holland who spoke perfect English. Turns out he’s a radio journalist for the Dutch parliament named Arthur and has been spending his vacation backpacking around Laos and spending his last week relaxing in Thailand. We wandered around looking for a live jazz bar that he had read up on in lonely planet, but again, it turned out to not exist anymore. Instead we found a restaurant / bar with some guy playing really bad covers and I heard ‘Hotel California’ for the third and hopefully last time for a very long t
ime. Arthur and I argued about the effects of second hand smoke and basically shot the shit for a little while over a couple of beers, after which we walked down the street where we were approached to take pictures with such animals as monkeys, iguanas, and even an eagle (later on in the night I saw a guy with all three on him, must have made for quite the picture). We opted for the monkey like the stupid tourists we were, and then wandered around for a little while until we eventually walked by a bar with loud music coming from it and some ‘interesting’ dancers outside. It turns out it was the nightly transvestite musical show. We both kind of looked at each other like, “I’ll watch if you will,” and found a little niche at the corner of the bar and waited for the show to start. We watched some lip-synched renditions of Celine Dion, Gloria Gaynor, Whitney Houston, and even Elvis (a man dressed as a lady dressed as a man, go figure). It was the type of thing that you were disgusted by, but you really couldn’t look away. I don’t know how any man could make his body look like that, and it’s pr
obably better if I stay ignorant about it, but at face value it was just friggin’ hilarious.
After the show, I wanted to check out this massive club called the green mango that I had read about on the internet, and Arthur wasn’t too keen on it. I made him at least walk to it and check it out, but within 5 minutes of being there he had completely disappeared and I think he headed off to bed. It kinda miffed me that he left me hanging, but it was hardly a bad spot to be left, so I danced the night away and eventually found my way home. It was pretty fun anyhow, and on a side note, I saw all of the performers from the transvestite show offering their own ‘personal concerts’ and dressed in much more low-key, easier-to-fool-a-drunk-guy-into-the-biggest-surprise-of-his-life outfits. Maybe Arthur had the right idea to get the heck out of there after all.
It wasn’t until the next morning over breakfast that I realized why I was so confused. It turns out I’m an idiot and assumed the half moon party would be on the same beach that they throw the full moon party, but it’s on a totally different ‘half-moon party’ beach. Whoops. Oh well, next time I’ll actually read the posters I guess. I took a ferry back to Koh Samui and took a cab to the only touristy spot in the area that I hadn’t yet been to: Hat Chaweng. On the way over I met a couple Canadian girls who were also teaching English in Korea, one who grew up on Vancouver Island, another who grew up in New Brunswick. The Vancouver Island girl had actually read the posters and gone to the right beach for the half-moon party. She made me realize just what I had missed from her stories. The fact that she still had some bright neon body paint splattered all over her arms face and legs from the night before only added to it. Must have been fun. Crap.
I pulled out Ben’s lonely planet guide that he lent me and just picked the first resort that they recommended for the beach, which was actually really awesome. It was a clean bungalow this time and it wasn’t on the beach but pretty close. It also had a cool rotating fan that went in a full circle on the ceiling pointing downwards, made for a comfy sleep for the next two nights for sure. From here I aimlessly walked up and down pretty much the whole beach, which was quite a walk, and eventually found a volleyball net that was just getting set up that interested me. We started out playing 2 on 2 with me and these 3 teenagers from Switzerland named Severin, Klaus, and Mark (one those names is not like the others hey?) and the game quickly built up. Two French kids joined in, both of which were quite good and some jolly older Italian guy hopped in as well, and by then I had lost count, we were subbing in and had the strangest mix of people doing any one thing that I have ever been a part of. It wasn’t really the best volleyball ever (not like I was ever that good at it anyways, I always had a wicked view from the bench though) but it was really quite fun, and surprisingly good considering the smorgasbord of people that were joining.
From here I did a little more walking, this time on the road following the beach to check out the night scene. I found all the places I had read about on the internet, and made a mental note as I went back home and grabbed some dinner a shower and a quick nap. Once I had finally left the bungalow it was nice and dark out and ‘whilst’ I was walking I met a guy from Holland who spoke perfect English. Turns out he’s a radio journalist for the Dutch parliament named Arthur and has been spending his vacation backpacking around Laos and spending his last week relaxing in Thailand. We wandered around looking for a live jazz bar that he had read up on in lonely planet, but again, it turned out to not exist anymore. Instead we found a restaurant / bar with some guy playing really bad covers and I heard ‘Hotel California’ for the third and hopefully last time for a very long t
ime. Arthur and I argued about the effects of second hand smoke and basically shot the shit for a little while over a couple of beers, after which we walked down the street where we were approached to take pictures with such animals as monkeys, iguanas, and even an eagle (later on in the night I saw a guy with all three on him, must have made for quite the picture). We opted for the monkey like the stupid tourists we were, and then wandered around for a little while until we eventually walked by a bar with loud music coming from it and some ‘interesting’ dancers outside. It turns out it was the nightly transvestite musical show. We both kind of looked at each other like, “I’ll watch if you will,” and found a little niche at the corner of the bar and waited for the show to start. We watched some lip-synched renditions of Celine Dion, Gloria Gaynor, Whitney Houston, and even Elvis (a man dressed as a lady dressed as a man, go figure). It was the type of thing that you were disgusted by, but you really couldn’t look away. I don’t know how any man could make his body look like that, and it’s pr
obably better if I stay ignorant about it, but at face value it was just friggin’ hilarious.After the show, I wanted to check out this massive club called the green mango that I had read about on the internet, and Arthur wasn’t too keen on it. I made him at least walk to it and check it out, but within 5 minutes of being there he had completely disappeared and I think he headed off to bed. It kinda miffed me that he left me hanging, but it was hardly a bad spot to be left, so I danced the night away and eventually found my way home. It was pretty fun anyhow, and on a side note, I saw all of the performers from the transvestite show offering their own ‘personal concerts’ and dressed in much more low-key, easier-to-fool-a-drunk-guy-into-the-biggest-surprise-of-his-life outfits. Maybe Arthur had the right idea to get the heck out of there after all.
posted by yonnybee at 8:34 AM
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