Call it an epilogue. Call it a sequel. Call it a booze-fueled, crazy-monkey odyssey. Either way, I needed to do something foolish after my tenure in Korea - and a month long excursion to Thailand seemed just what the doctor ordered. Accompanied by my partner in crime, the one-and-only Adam Brown, we sought out adventure in Southeast Asia armed with only backpacks and nowhere near enough underwear and adventure is what we got. Our journey was episodic in the sense each place brought with it a certain objective and feeling, and thus, I've divided this blog up into chapters, detailing each place and the stories that are PG-13 enough to tell. So, I give you: Foley and Brown in Thailand.
I made this nifty map in paint - so you can see our journey from start to finish in a geographical sense. Just start at 1, and then go to 2, and, well, you get it.
1. Bangkok Beginnings
For those of you without a television, or those of you who live in a cave with your hands over your ears singing all day, you may have heard that Bangkok is flooded. We experienced very little of this directly (save for the flash monsoon rains that hit for about an hour while we were there), but taking the train into the city, you could see the destruction. Farms had become swimming pools, houses had been pummeled, though the downtown area was unscathed. The Thai government made sure of this - they put everything they had to save the downtown area. Why? Because Thailand is a land of tourism - and that's where the money is, baby. How much of the mindset of these people is devoted towards taking away your sweet, sweet green? Read on, dear friend, and judge for yourself.
The first thing in Bangkok you notice (after the thick ninety-two degree climate and the pollution that blankets the city) is the Tuk-Tuk drivers. This is the Bangkok Taxi of sorts, a carriage for two (or three skinny people) strapped on to the back of a motor scooter. The pilots of these vessels are a friendly folk with questionable ethics. There is no meter on these taxis, you decide the price beforehand. These negotiations always devolve into a haggling match, where you pretend to walk away in the end and then get a kind of reasonable price. The thing to beware is the Tuk Tuk driver offering you a good price to begin with - because along the way, you're going to make a stop. Where? At a suit store, because he made a deal with his buddy, the suit store salesman, to supplement is pay check a bit. And he's not going anywhere til you've dropped thirty five bucks American on a pair of silk pants.
But the people on the whole seem very genuine, especially the food vendors. Street food is king in Bangkok. It was also two of our favorite things: spicy and cheap. Entire markets dealt delicious street food, ranging from meat on a stick to Thai Iced Tea to fruit pancakes to Pad Thai to cockroaches. Yup. And of course, with my adventurous (stupid) mindset, I had to try one.
Crunchy, lots of seasoning, but hey, where's the taste?
But no first night in Bangkok would be complete without a night spent slugging tallboys while perusing the Red Light District. You know, sex tourism is one of those things you hear is popular in Bangkok, but the sheer breadth of it (and the shamelessness with which it is promoted) is jaw-dropping. Adam and I were offered more ping-pong shows (if you don't know, don't ask) than we could count. And while we didn't actually take part in any of it, we were approached by a hooker at the end of the night who was trying to go home with both of us. We offered her twenty Bath (the equivalent of about sixty-eight cents) and a half eaten bag of wantons. When she accepted, we got the hell out of there.
Because Bangkok was so flooded, we decided to take off the next night and go North. That afternoon though, we caught a movie at the local theater. While the theater itself was near immaculate (especially compared to how dirty most of the city was), the true thing of note was the tribute to King Rama IX before every movie. Thai people love their King. Unlike the Royal Family of Britain, the Thai people revere their king with an almost god-like respect, and not without good reason. The King, while now having no official political power, is (alongside the head Buddhist monk) an adviser to all political parties and leaders in the country. He stands as a symbol of peace in the nation, and so, before movies, everyone stands in honor of the king.
2 Chiang Mai: "Oh My Buddha"
After a cool fourteen hours aboard a bus that had an ambiguous definition of the word "bathroom," Mr. Brown and I arrived in Chiang Mai - known as the "lively northern capital." Boasting a population of two hundred thousand, it's the second largest city in Thailand. Surrounded by jungles, the objective was clear in Chiang Mai: trekking. You go to Chiang Mai to get down with your monkey self.
We embarked on a three day excursion into the lush jungles north of the city. Accompanying us was our fearless guide JJ - a small Thai man who lived by the philosophy "no money, no honey" and used the phrase "Oh my Buddha!" to express surprise. The Dutch also gave a good showing, as we were joined by three Netherlands Natives who we became tight with over those three days.
The jungles were teeming with life. It was natural to see a water snake slithering away or find a spider as big as your hand chilling out between trees. I spent about half my roll of film taking pictures a spider the size of my hand, which infuriated Adam to no end.
But seriously, the jungle was varied and awesome. Observe:
After covering over six miles (10km) in the jungle, we arrived at a village of rice-growers who lived in huts. There, we joined them for dinner, a chicken a vegetable dish, and then starting crushing cheap Thai liquor while a village boy played a bizarre rendition of "When I'm a Billionaire" on his guitar. It got dark around six thirty, which meant that by seven, you could barely your hands in front of you, but that didn't stop us from drinking late into the night, as the villagers went to sleep. I'd wager it was around nine o'clock when the village boy (I'm guessing he was about seventeen) came out and tried to get us to play his guitar. When we declined (none of us knew how) he nodded his head, looked both ways, and then asked, very nonchalantly:
"Hey, you wanna smoke opium?"
He went on to tell us how he downed thirty opium pipes a night. I was baffled that he still had all his teeth.
Still later that night, after I stopped one of our drunken Dutch friends from lighting the picnic table on fire, nature called. I stumbled through the darkness with my feeble flashlight to the hole in the ground designated "toilet." I squatted, toilet paper clenched tight, and tried to enjoy the gentle peace of the night. My feet had been walking all day and were ripe with blisters, so I wasn't surprised when they started to tingle. But then they started to itch. Then they felt like they were on fire. I screamed, jumping up and ditching the TP. I beamed my flashlight on my foot. In the dim light, I could make out an unholy nest of fire ants engulfing my foot, clearly pissed I had woken them up. I ran away, slapping my foot furiously. I lost the toilet paper (which Adam was thrilled with) and no longer felt like using the bathroom. But while I may have lost the battle, I won the war when I drowned those biting bastards the next morning.
The next night we stayed at the waterfall which gets the award for best morning shower ever. Two kittens from the village slept in the bed with me which made me extremely nervous because they were so small I thought if I rolled over in the middle of the night I would kill them. But luckily, no kitten pancakes.
The last day: riding elephants and bamboo rafts. Riding elephants is one of those things that sounds fun til you do it. You sit on a bench atop the back of the great beast while the pilot sits atop the head, armed with a tool that is half wooden hammer and half metal hook. Yes, the hook is for if they get crazy, and yes, that should give you an indication of how unrelaxing riding these gray behemoths is. The problem was, two small elephants (small in the way a Volkswagen is small) had a little rivalry and decided to get in a fight around the three larger elephants we were riding. It was tough enough for the elephants to trek up these steep, muddy hills, but with the little ones farting around beneath, some of the bigger ones started getting pissed, screaming at them, and rocking around to the point we thought we were all going to die.
Oddly enough, the bamboo raft ride proved even more dangerous. It's a standing raft built for four to five people and it moves at a good clip down the river. Below the raft is shallow, rocky water, but it's really not something to worry about...unless your boat is full of douchey Spanish guys whose collective goal in life is to capsize this pleasant vessel. The result? Adam's feet got torn to shreds on the rocks below and I was on crutches for the next 24 hours with a twisted ankle (though the Thai nurses did think I was cute).
Still, this didn't stop Adam from exploring Chiang Mai the next day while I took a Thai massage course (though strangely they left out the section on "happy endings.") We also met a fantastic Thai radio host near a Buddhist Temple who shared with us his wisdom on life (though again, no happy endings).
3 Phuket's Lovely Ladyboys
We flew down to Phuket (yes, all places in Thailand have funny names) and had the please of staying there for just a single night. Phuket is known for its...colorful nightlife. What's there to say? Well, the first thing I noticed when we left our hotel was this gorgeous girl in a phone booth. Long, flowing hair, amazing body, smooth skin...and totally a dude. And then I saw another. And another.
Welcome to Ladyboy Land.
Why does Thailand embrace sex-changes and cross dressing as much as it does? I'll never know. But the seafood place we ate at featured exclusively ladyboy servers and the club we met at afterwards turned out to be a hodgepodge of ladyboys, Thai prostitutes, and filthy old European Men. Scuzzy does not begin to describe this place. Ladyboys were way too friendly (especially with Adam and me). I constantly felt the need to yell out "I need an adult!"
The night culminated as all good ones do, with a catfight (brawl) between two hookers. It was wild. Haymakers and dropkicks, furious scratching. At first it was entertaining but it got brutal real quick. When Hooker A got Hooker B's hair in a vice grip, I decided enough was enough and tried to pull them apart. But my goal proved difficult to achieve. It took three of us to drag her back, and she still got away and smashed the other girl over the head again. I was baffled by the situation until Adam informed me they were not women, but rather men. Just really convincing ladyboys.
4. You Down With Koh Phi Phi?
Koh Phi Phi (pronounced like "pee pee") was our first stop of island living. The Andaman Coast is considered by many to be the most beautiful part of Thailand. For reference, the (stupid) Leonardo DiCaprio movie "The Beach" was filmed right next to Koh Phi Phi.
Koh Phi Phi was infested with expats for the better and worse. Restaurants were knockouts - boats literally brought fresh fish to the restaurant chefs who would grill them outside right in front of you. One bar featured a Thai boxing ring that you could settle your drunken disputes in (unfortunately, Adam and I did not have any). And to ensure the island's clean air, it was devoid of any motorized vehicles. This was great, except at four in the morning when you're slammed and you don't know where your bungalow is.
Ours was located at the top of this stone staircase that rivaled Machu Picchu, but featured a lovely view of the island. Seen here.
One great stories comes from this bungalow.
I went home early (4:00am) and Adam stayed out for another hour. When he got home, the door closing woke me up. I shot up in bed.
"Dude - were you knocking on the roof?" I yelled, confused and disoriented.
"What?" asked a tired Adam Brown.
"I heard knocking man."
"You were dreaming, dude," he said. "Go to bed."
I looked around. "Maybe you're right..."
But he wasn't right. An hour later, as the sun peaked over the hills and cast its rays over the island, a family of monkeys landed on our porch and started throwing shit around. There was a mama monkey and four babies. By the time I got over the initial shock and reached for my camera though, they were gone...
However, in a place known as Monkey Beach "only accessible to boats" (Adam and I swam), we encountered several more monkeys, who had a strange love of Coca Cola and public sex acts.
Koh Phi Phi was awesome for its nightlife (it's hard to get sick of firedancers) and is quite possibly the most romantic place I've ever been. Thank God I was there with Adam (wink).
5. Kooooooooooohhh TAAAOOOOOOOO!
Koh Tao was stop number five. To pronounce it, as demonstrated to us by our friend Nini the Thai Pharmacist, you have to sound like a character from Street Fighter charging up and releasing a fireball. (Also, as a side note, her pharmacy name was "Nopporn Pharmacy." I really think they try to have the dirtiest English names in this country.)
To put it nicely, the journey to Koh Tao was unpleasant. Taking a three hour bus across the peninsula would have been fine, if Adam and I weren't stuck with the only seats that didn't recline below the air conditioner that had leaked so much water that the ceiling had rotted away and by the end of the trip we felt like we had a grasp on Chinese water torture
That was followed by the "night boat" - a refreshingly long seven hour boat ride with beds. I'm not one to complain, even with grimy pillows and low ceilings, but when you cram a hundred people sleeping in a room together, you're bound to get one or two jackasses. I found the biggest one, a chunky blonde backpacker (and his friends), in beds right next to mine. This yellow-haired dude decided, because sleep is for losers, he would loudly tell mind-numbingly unfunny stories about a murderer aboard the night boat. Half an hour into it, I was about to make his story true and strangle him with my dirty underwear.
But Koh Tao, once we got there, was all about the diving. Our driver teachers all possessed the Jacque Cousteau accent, putting us at ease, and our diving instructor in the field was a Dutch man with a blonde dread ponytail who went by the name "Merlin."
Over the course of four days we became scuba certified. After the first day and a half of movies and readings and classrooms so boring I thought they shot me with a horse tranquilizer, it was time to get in the water. Scuba diving is both frustrating and awesome. There is a lot of preparation and annoyance, lots of rules and regulations, but when you finally get down there, it's just really cool. The only point of worry is the whole "don't go to the surface too fast or your lungs will explode like hand grenades soaked in lighter fluid" precautions they drill into you. They drill these in enough that, on separate dives, Adam and I were convinced we had decompression sickness, though as luck would have it, we didn't.
But again, totally worth it. Alongside a Frenchman and a Mexican, we made six dives, the deepest being 60 feet (18m). It sounds obvious, but tropical fish are really, really colorful. And you always hear about big schools of fish, but when you see what looks like a thousand barracuda darting around in this fluid, ocean harmony, it is nothing short of jaw-dropping. Frenchy was supposed to upload a video of this excursion, but it turns out he was full of lies.
The last day we were a bit suba-ed out, so we rented motor scooters and tore up the island. We snuck down to a private beach with water so clear you didn`t even need a mask to see the fish. There we met these cool Thai-Chinese-American girls, which was impressive because we could count the number of Americans we met on one hand. The sheer number of Aussies and Eurotrash in Thailand was truly remarkable.
Here is a view from the overlook to the private beach below.
As crazy as everything else was, nothing could prepare us for the ball-busting insanity of Koh Phangan.
6. Koh Panagan: Redefining Sloppiness
Before I continue, I would like to say that, while the Thia people are extremely pleasant and kind, their language sounds like a cat being dangled above a trash compactor. Just saying.
Koh Panagan is famous for the Full Moon Beach Party (happens every full moon) where tens of thousands gather for the biggest beach party in the world. And oh yes, there is craziness, and drugs, and partying, and more drugs. But the drugs are dangerous for more than just the typical "it might mess you up" mentality. The Lonely Planet, under "Dangers and Annoyances" says this:
"Drug dealers are typically shot. No questions asked."
That`s right, welcome to flavor country. Getting caught with drugs is often a mandatory three years in jail, and while the idea of a Thai jail may sound pleasant, I`m guessing its not.
The objective here was partying - and the first night was the pre-party to the Full Moon. The drink of choice for these parties is the "bucket." The bucket is a bucket consisting of:
1. About a pint of alcohol
2. An energy drink (often Red Bull)
3. Some fruit juice to take the edge off
4. Ice
Now, I would not call myself a tank nor a lightweight. But when I ordered a Vodka Redbull bucket - I assumed I could handle at least one. Three-fourths of the way into it though, I was feeling like something had been slipped to me. I was paranoid, my chest was tight, my heart was racing, I wanted to dance way too much and keep everyone together or I was afraid something terrible would happen.
When I started compulsively falling asleep next to my friends, I figured it was time to go home. It took me to the last day to discover what had happened (other than the off-chance I had developed narcolepsy). Red Bulls in Thailand are four times strong than in America. My Vodka Redbull contained two of said energy drink, which is the equivalent of drinking eight Redbulls alongside eight shots of vodka in a short period of time. Keep in mind, I don`t even drink coffee. So no wonder my body started to crash around two in the morning...
But the next night was the real deal - the Full Moon Party. We were joined by our Dutch Trekking Buddies and the Thai-Chinese-American Beach Girls - and thank God we had them because the beach was madness. Among the tens of thousands gathered were creepers in predator mode, drugged out people sprinting on the beach for some reason, a legion of thieves and pickpockets, and of course, a bunch of dudes who felt like the beach was their toilet (I was among the latter). But there were also water slides (my ass still hurts) and flaming jump ropes for the truly brave, good music, and good times to be had by all.
The following night had a party off the beaten path that required a twenty minute boat ride to a deserted beach that held a club a five minute walk in. The party itself was alright (too many dudes) but the real story lies in the trip home. There were four of us, Adam, myself, and two of the Dutch guys. We just wanted a boat ride home. It was five in the morning and we were tired and, a bit cranky. Though, not nearly as cranky as the forty year old Dutch man we met, a shirtless tattooed fellow with an Indian Jones hat who also wanted nothing more than to go home. So much so that he was just at a bungalow at the beach we were on, chucking ketchup bottles at the house and screaming for them to let him in. We told him to come with us, more than anything to get him the hell away from those people. The problem was, the sole boat was beached, as in, not in the water. That and the boat driver was drunk off his ass. This didn`t sit well with the old Dutch dude, who put it this way:
"I`m from Amsterdam and I`m crazy!...Well, I`m not really from Amsterdam, but I`m still crazy! I`ll kill him. I'll kill him right NOW!"
Then we had to talk him down from killing the boat driver. Then the six of us had to literally push the boat back into the water as the waves beat down on us. Then we had to let the drunken captain navigate his wooden crapcan of a boat over choppy water in pitch black waters. If I had to come up with a word to describe that night, it would have been: "safe."
The rest of the days were filled with motor scooter rides in the bitter cold rain, a night of karaoke where Adam and I did a sloppy rendition of Sir Mix-a-Lot`s "Baby Got Back," and learned the lesson that if girls scream when you walk by and beg you to come drink with them, what they really want is your sweet American coin (and they're probably dudes).
7. Back to the Bangkok Beginning
Here is where I will stop - there are more stories not included in here - and a great excuse to meet us in person. Both of us have been away from the East Coast for more than enough time.
That's right people, I'm home. Come play with me.
Ladies and gentlemen, don't be afraid - I know how to handle me a scoot-scoot.
See you all soon...
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