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Somebody pinch me
View from the bungalow in Thong Nai Pan And so arrived the most significant milestone of my trip so far. Up until now, I had been travelling out to the most far-flung corners of the globe (well far-flung if you're using Glasgow as a starting point) but when I arrived in Auckland airport I was officially on my way home. Not that it was time to book a table at La Vita and put the Irn Bru on ice just yet; I still had 3 months in south-east Asia, a rendez-vous with China and the small matter of the Trans-Siberian railway ahead of me, but in the manner of someone waking up on the morning of their 40th birthday, there was a certain 'bloody hell, that's half of it over already' in my step as I boarded my flight to Bangkok on to a promise.
Well not 'on to a promise' in the way you're thinking. After 5 months of sharing guesthouses with bed-bugs, dorms with Irish snoring champions and lining myself up for acute sciatica before I hit 29 sleeping on floors, my mum was meeting me in Ko Phan Ngang and I was ready to be spoiled. Now Ko Phan Ngang and mums don't usually mix
Massaging my feet
I asked her to take off the closepeg for the pic... - my lingering 'memories' of my previous visit were lying on a beach in the dead of night, too uncomfortable to sleep but too sparkled to move, my face wet and sandy courtesy of a spilled bucket of whisky and oblivious to the chaos of the surrounding Full Moon Party - however on this occasion we were bound not for Haad Rin but Thong Nai Pan in the north of the island: geographically round the corner from Crazy Town but, in terms of pace, as far away as my first nappy.
I've received the odd email since I've been away asking where to go in Thailand if you're pushed for time. Who knows, after reading these you may even be thinking of a wee gander yourself? So here's the answer: Thong Nai Pan Noi. The best way to elaborate is by taking you through a typcial day in the resort. ('Resort' is definitely not the right word to use here but I feel I've been over-using 'place' of late. Torremolinos is a 'resort' and TNPN is nothing like it. Not that I'm slagging Torremolinos, far from it. I've said before that I can't stand the types that look down
An ambition fulfilled
Warming up the Karate Kid before his first big beach fight their nose at 'touristy' or 'mainstream' destinations. Anyway, I feel I'm getting a little bogged down in this, so I digress.) Yeah, so typical day: get up when you want, take a peek out the window to confirm that, once again, it's a schorcher, walk the 10 metres to the cafe for breakfast, eat like a king, drink gret coffee, pay a pound, wander another 5 metres and plonk your stuff on the beach, read your book until you get too hot, cool down in the sea, repeat until bored, have every ache or knot in your body loosened by one of the many dainty wee massage girls looking for business, pay two quid, shower (optional), stuff yourself with delcious thai cuisine, wash it down with a beer, pay 40p... you get the picture. And this was the way we happily whiled away a week. By the way not a bed-bug in sight.
The other great thing about this week was that I had my own bungalow. It wouldn't really have been appropriate to share with not only my mum, but her Thai friend Sa and her Scottish friend Doreen. Let me tell you a bit about Sa (Doreen
won't mind me saying that Sa's story is probably a bit more 'emailworthy' than her own): there's nobody I've met quite like her. As far as I can recall she is around the same age as me but much more intelligent. She holds down a job in a hotel where she works 14 hours a day, 6 days a week. She would have to work for 2 months to earn what I do in a day (and I say this to demonstrate her work ethic and in no way to big myself up). This entire wage is given to her parents who are too old to work themselves and in turn give her 'pocket money' which has to stretch to include motorbike fuel (in order to get to work) and an uniform (in order to stay in work). On her day off she goes to school to learn English and continue her education but I must confess that I'm not sure what good either will do as her lifelong ambition is to raise enough money to buy a 7-11. Still, she was first with her money on the table when it came to paying for lunch at what must have
comparitively seemed to be exorbitant tourist prices. This is the behaviour of one who has refused to take the 'easy way out' as many of her peers have done in becoming part of the local sex industry. This is the behaviour of somebody who prides herself on dignity and family values. This is amazing Thailand.
Our cultural experience continued even after we moved on from our beach paradise: I was squeezing in at least 3 Premiership games a day in Ko Samui and my mum and Doreen spent most of their time in Bangkok in one of those ultra-modern shopping malls sitting on those big fancy leather chairs with the freaky-looking internal mechanisms designed to massage your back. Still there were pressies to be bought so we hit Patpong Night Market, home of the fake designer t-shirt, the crepe-paper oriental lampshade and, yep, the famous Bangkok ping-pong show. And I'm not talking racquet sports here. Now needless to say that fending off touts armed with pornographic catelogues of in-house specialities isn't exactly the environment that you wish to share with your mother and her friend, but they soon left us alone when I asked them if they had any
application forms specifically for ladies in their late 40s...
Never has a clout around the ear been more richly deserved. It's funny the things you miss from home...
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