HGGHGB-Part Three

On Sunday morning, I dragged my backpack from the 4th floor of Priew Wan Guesthouse and waited for the van to take me to the ferry. I was quite happy about my decision to book through TAT because all of my transfers we taken care of in-advance so I never really had to yank out any BAHT for these minor nuisances which made the multitude of journey's bearable. After about an hour, we arrived to the frenzy of the ferry building: hotel hawkers, tour-shouters, etc. I found what I was looking for: the beer guy. I grabbed two cold Singha's and a giant water and headed to the stairs. While I waited to get herded onto the deck, I hooked up with a lovely Aussie couple on honeymoon. We quickly realized that the place to be was top-deck and set up camp right in the middle. We shared beers and snacks, and then I took a nap for about an hour until we reached the coves leading to Ko Phi Phi Island, the scene where "The Beach" was filmed. It was majestic and lovely and I was certain this would be the highlight of my trip.

"PEE-PEE"

We cruised through Ton Sai Bay leading to the pier and I was amazed at this tiny village, which I knew had been decimated by the 2005 Tsunami. It was pretty incredible how built-up I assumed it had become, because I couldn't even tell anything had happened. Some complained about it, saying it used to be small and quaint and lovely, but I had nothing to compare it to so I wasn't chuffed about it at all. I said goodbye to the love-birds and made my way through the village, asking anyone who would listen "where is the White?" which would later become my anthem throughout the entire week.

I found the White, was asked to remove my shoes, and then led up to a tiny room, which had a safe, shower, ghetto bidet, bed, air-con and TV. However, it was a serious dungeon and I counted it as a blessing because it would force me to get the hell out and venture. I gathered my usual supplies: surfer wallet in same-size black macrame bag, and mini back pack with sunscreen, two sarongs, and water...hat, glasses, lipstick. (Need to have one glamour-bit!) Five minutes in the room to chuck passport in safe, have a wee and head out!

I walked around for about an hour and tried to get my bearings, then found a great little perch by the Chao Koh PP Lodge and had a bite and a huge smoothie to try and stay somewhat healthy, then as I do, ordered a large frosty Chang. I sat in anticipation of the sunset and pondered my options. I had scheduled 5 nights and had absolutely no idea what I was in for. My plan was to find another cabana boy and sit on my arse for the entire week, but as I examined the lay-out it was becoming increasingly clear that there were no cabana boys, umbrellas or lounge chairs anywhere and my hopes of being waited on were sure to be dashed. Ah well, I just would make-do. Just as the sun was sinking, I heard, for the first time in my life, the call to prayer. Turns out, this was a Muslim Island and the mosque was right behind me. It was both beautiful and haunting and I wandered off in thought for a moment then felt grateful to have the freedom to be sitting there, with a beer, watching the sunset...alive. After all, this was the scene of a terrible natural disaster. I reflected upon it, shed a tear and left.

Back to the dungeon to shower and change for the evening, then off to see how the night would fare.

Bear in mind, this place is tiny. T-I-N-Y!!!!! You can cover the entire village in five minutes, so it starts to play tricks with your mind. Kind of like a tiny Venice. I grabbed my wallet, threw on one of my Chiang Mai dressed in search of fun. Around the corner from my place, I found a pub called the "Sportsbar," which would prove to become my "local" as the week wore on. Not that there was anything special about it, except for Winnie. Winnie the legend. A five-foot, beefy little spitfire (pictured with me above) who would prove to be my sister, friend and protector in any and all times of need. It was also great because it was full of English guys, so I could actually hold court and be understood. I was quickly becoming tired of the Scandinavian buzz around me and needed a fix.

Next, I found a little hipster bar owned by an Irish ex-pat, who was very nice but couldn't remember a drink to save his life. He was happy chatting and I was about to jump back there and friggin' start making drinks myself because it was so painful to watch. I quickly met up with two Danish girls and an American dive instructor from Seattle named Chris. We chatted away until all hours, then I went in-search of some street food and my pillow. This was the first of many night I would shout my now-famous catch-phrase: "Where is the White? THE WHITE??"

Up the next day with bikini and supplies, wandered around and had my morning watermelon smoothie from the Muslim lady with the fruit stand. Around 11 I came upon 3 lads from Newcastle, and after adjusting my ears to their accent we had a nice chat. They decided that they wanted to rent a boat and scoot out to Maya Bay and invited me along and I turned them down because I was a bit nervous going out with three strangers to a secluded spot. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Right. Of course I said yes, so we hopped on a boat and through a wave of ganja smoke via our driver, headed out to the spot where part of "The Beach" was filmed. The little cove where the Swedish guy bites it from the shark attack. Anyway, we swam around for about two hours, then through more smoke, headed back to the pier where I bid them farewell as they headed to Patong via the same ferry.

I sat on the beach, slept, pondered, wondered what it would be like to have a certain person there with me, thought better of it, pondered more then realized it was time to look for a spot to catch the sunset. I returned to Chao Koh, same frosty Chang and same call to prayer. Rinse, repeat.

Back to the dungeon, out for a quick bite, a few with Winnie and then just headed back around 9. Wasn't feeling it at all. Thought a good night's sleep would be good for me. It proved to be a great idea. I needed it. So much sun, etc. But, was already getting bored of the Pee Pee.

THE WHITE, WINNIE AND WANDERING

Up the next day, same old same old. Back to say hi to Winnie and have a wander. Was beginning to show signs of travel: lost toenail, sun burnt bum, the usual pity-party. Just as I was about to get to the internet and back to Patong, I was randomly joined by baby-faced 21 year-old Danish Patrick, who's party had abandoned him for a sailing trip. We had a few beers and a nice chat that afternoon and then joined his friends and their enclave at the tip of Loh Dalum Bay. I was used to the Danish by then quickly craving an open-faced sandwich and a Carlsburg. Nicely enough, I was invited to a birthday party for the evening, for a Danish girl named Mia who turned out to be absolutely lovely! We went to some dodgy seafood dinner and then for some unknown reason, as everyone started singing Happy Birthday, I chimed in with the "You Look Like a Monkey" version and after a bit of awkward silence, received a rousing round of applause. I have no idea what possessed me, but it seemed to endear me to the group and I was allowed to hang around for a few more hours.

After dinner, we went to a beach bar named "Ibiza" where upon arrival, were greeting by a petrol-infused jump rope, that was being spun around in hopes of drunken buffoons trying their luck at getting through it without getting burned. I didn't see one person make it through. Idiots. I would have made a fortune sitting on the sidelines with a bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide, a tube of Bactroban and some gauze. The next thing I know, there are multiple "buckets" of alcohol/juice concoctions flying around and every time a straw came near my mouth, I would quickly take a swill of beer and smile. "I don't do spirits" was my other catch-phrase, because I know better. I quickly felt like I was in Cancun and started to once again, pine for Sugar Beer Bar and a dance-off with Shrek.

Walked poor swaying Patrick home, which wasn't easy as he was about 6'3" and completely bollocked. I was becoming the town mommy. Of course, that doesn't erase the fact that once again, "WHERE IS THE WHITE? THE WHIIIIIIIIIITE?" Yep, still couldn't bloody find my place, as sober and clear-headed as I was.

The Danes left for Patong the next day, which quickly became a theme for me. Probably better anyway. The prize though, Mia and I are still in touch! Sweeeet!

Thought I would give the other side of the island a chance so I went to Loh Dalum Bay and found a great little place called the Monkey Bar. It was perfect for me, all of the staff were either in dread-locks, or mohawks, or tattoo's or some such thing, but the glorious part was the Reggae booming from the speakers. It was glorious. For about an hour. While I was entertained by the parasailing extravaganza going on in front of said Monkey Bar, the smell of gasoline was getting to me, so in a huff, I gathered my things and headed down the beach. Great idea. As I looked around I noticed a sea of perfectly tanned, YOUNG, gorgeous Scandi's and if you know anything about these people they are all stunning. Every stinking one of them. How in the world does a breed of people get to be super tan AND blonde....naturally! WTF? Now I am a very confident woman and still ain't so hard to look at, but this was even hard for me to bear. Still, Ihad my moments...

(This is where I am going to insert a small, teeny tiny rant.)

Girls, and I do mean "girls." I am NOT interested in your teen-age boyfriends so please stop with the turned-up nose and stink-eye. Honestly, those days are gone. There are PLENTY of gorgeous, fit, hot, smart, sexy single men my age and I am quite happy to fish in that pond. I can think of 10 right this second, off the top of my head...two whom I would meet later, a couple in SF, my friend Nick the Greek from the Busabout days and one very sexy 38 year-old Viking who puts all those boys to shame. So BUGGAR OFF!!!

Whew, much better.

To combat my feelings of chubby insignificance, I covered myself with a sarong and found a small corner next to a Japanese couple and a fat German guy and his Thai "girlfriend."

Bored of this after about an hour, I said "sod it" and walked further down, entranced by the "Best of the Police" coming from a place called "Ciao Bella Restaurant." Nothing like "Message in a Bottle," to make one feel better about things. I sat at the bar for about 5 minutes and then this guy, oddly enough who looked like "Sting" came up and asked me if I wanted to join his group. "I'm Tom...Tom Cruise." Ok, well, later he became "Tom the collector" because he was genius for grabbing wayward orphans and bringing them into the fold. Allegedly, he played the shark-bitten Swedish guy in the movie but I'll have to re-rent to believe it.

Anyway, that's how I met my Ukranian girls, Valerie and Julia, who would prove to be one of the highlights of my stay. It was an international cast of characters, debating the world's events and clinking cups to "cheers" in several languages every five minutes. Of course, no international sit-down would be complete without the requisite "America bashing" but in fairness, these days it happens less and less. "Yes, I know Americans don't travel," I finally said "but I do and I'm here so shut your pie-hole."

The next two days went down the same way, we all met in the same spot, met at the Tiger bar at night and I still couldn't ever EVER find my way home. It was becoming a joke. I did hear later that I wasn't the only person who suffered this fate, but it still didn't make me feel any less retarded.

The last day, I went to get my feet nibbled-on by flesh-eating fish, sat around the Monkey Bar until the fumes made me dizzy, found the crew, then just hung out with Winnie. We ended up dancing together at Ibiza Beach Bar until some guy thought we were lesbians, then she started crying because I guess she liked him and I wiped her face-painted tears until the bars shut-down. I realized it was time to go.

Next day, I was feeling a bit rough, so I packed my bag and headed to Winnie's to wait upon my 2:30 ferry. Luckily, three of the London boys I had been chatting to the first night were also waiting for their ferry so, all of us green in the gills, we had a nice chat, took photos of the legend and her staff, and without regret, I finally said ADIEU Pee Pee. Nice to meet you but I think I'll pass next time. No offense, but not my scene. If I could do it again, it would be Patong 5 days, Pee Pee 2. The best bit is that I WILL be back and I WILL do it again, just my way.

Next installment: "The Last 48."