Beer. It's Not Just For Breakfast.

10:30 am, 11 February 2009. Mainland ferry port, Trat province, Thailand.

Tim and I having sorted out our respective transport on to Pattaya and Bangkok, took a seat facing the sea, wishing we were back at the perfect beach that we had just left behind - both for different reasons, and well some of the same I suppose.

'want something to drink?', Tim asked, motioning to the nearby shop.

'Fuck it, get me a Singha'.

Tim's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and the response included something involving fear, but he obliged, and joined me in that drink. the reason for said reaction was that I was largely dry and avoiding alcohol during our time on the beach, being drawn more to beverages of the fruity tropical variety.

Nonetheless, we toasted our sorrow, all the while laughing at the hour in which we were drinking. Having downed my small singha faster than Tim (which added to the fear factor) I used his line of the week 'one for the road?', then went to leave my luggage on my bus, him with 4 beer bottles looking to be somewhat of an alcoholic.

The beers did help, as after dashing after my bus I managed to pass out most of the way on it, but still being afflicted with the dry mouth as though I'd been out the night before. Meeting Andy, an American found at lonely beach, I got a laugh out of him asking had I been out drinking the night before, and I said, no, this morning at the ferry port! With reason. However this conversation was cut short when I noticed our bus pulling away from the curb and found myself once again chasing after it, propelled by a strong wish NOT to be stranded in Chonburi (I really must break this bus chasing pattern though).

Arrival in Bangkok was overwhelming after being locked off in paradise for all that time. I felt paralysed when trying to cross streets I'd learned to careen myself through with ease, and found myself staring wide-eyed at the immense variety of food options and viable ways to spend my money. Starting with checking into the Rikka Inn..I was going to ease this painful transition as much as possible by allowing myself to enjoy that roof pool. Unfortunately they only had doubles for 800 baht left, but considering i'd come in WELL under budget in Koh Chang, I thought sod it, you only live once. Was also a little too overjoyed at the prospect of my own toilet and a shower that produced more than dribble, but when you've hair mounted on your head as I do, these things can make all the difference. Popped in to see Toom to sort out my ticket onward out of Thailand (finally) and made the culture shock worse for myself by heading out to Mahboonkrong and Siam Square to buy the iPod paraphernalia which had gone missing in Koh Chang. The taxi ride was entertaining enough, never mind a German guy on a neighboring motorbike taxi, in cahoots with his driver, were attempting to get me to jump ship on my tuk tuk and join him.

Tim arrived the next day at Rikka whilst I sat poolside and checked himself in and that night we hit the buckets. It was more of the same from the massage party with me countering the Hill tribe sellers offers with my own offer of a thai massage (though fair enough, without my certificate there its easy to thikn i'm some crazy falang charlatan) but a few takers that left me with more souvenir bracelets. Was also doing some marketing for the cocktail place by holding out the 'very strong!' cocktails and bucket signs, which unfortunately for me the next day, are definitely NOT false advertising!!!!!! All in all another cracking night, even if I suffered dearly the next day....