I wake up late, but I'm still dog tired. I hate jetlag. It's raining outside. I mean, REALLY raining. Pouring down like, if you stepped outside for just a second you'd be soaked to the skin.
I'm not meeting Jessy til three as she's getting her hair extensions styled so I figure I'll spend some time in an internet cafe then try and find somewhere which'll do my washing quickly before I have to get the train. I check out, then sit at the computer for a couple hours before I go and meet Jess.
She's chatting to a hot American man (how does she do it??) and they're discussing their diving experiences. He seems nice and friendly and involves me in the conversation as well, despite the fact that I've never dived in my life. We say goodbye and head off to find a vegetarian restaurant which Jessy went to last time she was here and loved. But we can't find it. But we do find a dog sat on a van, which is brilliant, and I take a photo.
We chat about ladyboys as we're wandering around. Apparently the Thai people are hugely proud of them and when your son becomes one it's a huge honour and they are proud of how feminine their son is. I wonder where on earth Western society went wrong when it came to acceptance of such things.
We talk about a tattooist that Jessy met down south who has long black hair, a stretched nostril, a dragon tattooed on his cock and basically looks hard as nails, but is also camp as Christmas. She asked his mate if he was gay and his mate said yes and looked at her funny as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. I marvel at this country where everything (well, mostly everything) goes and that can destroy a Western woman's preconceptions about what it is to be gay in one easy encounter, and I love it just a little bit more.
We give up trying to find the restaurant and head into a little cafe that's full of Thai schoolkids. I decide to go for something a bit different and order minced pork, green noodles and seaweed. It's gross. It tastes like catfood but I'm so hungry I eat it all. We find our way back to Khao San - I'm getting used to using the temples as landmarks - and get my stuff from Jessy's room. I say goodbye. We'll see each other in about seven months time when I hit Australia, so it's not too sad a goodbye.
As I walk through reception the nice, hot American man is kicking off at the receptionist about the lack of air-conditioning in his 'air-conditioned' room. Considering he's in a cheap hotel in the middle of Thailand I wonder what he's making so much fuss about but just wander on past and leave him to it.
I get in a cab to take me to the train station and the driver tells me 250 baht. This annoys me as I've been paying 90 baht for the past three days to go the same distance. I barter him down to 200 but he won't go any lower so I let it go. I soon realise why he's charged so much - it's rush hour. I figure he's not earning much money while he's stuck in traffic with me. I resolve to give him 220 baht when I pay.
The train station is disappointingly dull, a bit like Victoria but with added Long Live The King signage. A helpful man tells me where I need to go but that I don't need to go yet so I get some snacks and sit down and wait. Come six o'clock everything stops, some soldier/policemen types line up in front of a painting of the King and the national anthem starts.
It's not very catchy. I've heard it twice now and it's still doesn't stay in my head. The whole train station stands up and pays homage. I try not to laugh. I remember when my Dad would refuse to stand up for the British national anthem when we went to pantos but I figure if I try that here I might get shot or something so I stand up as well.
The trains look like they were made in 1950s, and this is 2550 remember. Imagine a battered tobacco tin that your granddad might have had and put it on wheels and you're somewhere close. But really if I think about it they're no more battered than some of our shitty trains and they're certainly no less comfortable, and I have always been a big fan of going on a train ride so I embrace the experience.
Unfortunately my seat is tucked away in the corner of the carriage, away from the rest of the Western travellers, who, again, all seem to be in couples or groups. I get stuck with some grumpy looking Thais who are non-plussed by my grinning and perfunctory sawadees (that means hello, by the way). I order a beer and some food for later from the ladyboymancarriageassistanttypeperson (to give him his full title). The beer arrives and it's massive. Bigger than my head. I swig away gawping out the window and trying to take pictures of the trains.
We stop at the next station and lots of food and drink sellers get on. A man plonks two cans of Chiang beer down in front of me and charges me 50 baht. I tell him I'm okay, I've already got a beer thanks, and show him the supersize bottle in my hand. He charges me again and pushes the cans closer. I repeat myself. He repeats himself and pushes the cans yet closer. I wonder if he'll start pouring it down my throat if I don't pay him but eventually he gives up.
I realise Fate has actually dealt me a good hand this time as I listen to the boring travellers talk about boring clubs like God's Kitchen and Ministry and start to get lairy in the way that only the British and Germans can when they drink beer. There's one guy running up and down talking to everyone, exclaiming that there's all kinds on here - Swedish, British, German, French, Swiss, Canadian, Spanish etc etc, like this is unusual and everyone here should be British. He neglects to mention the Thais that are on board. He doesn't speak to me because by the time he starts running up and down, our bunkers have come down so the Thai guy I'm sat with can go to sleep.
I'm up on the top bunker, which is okay but feckin' hot, despite the fan spinning around on the ceiling. I read a bit, fall asleep, wake up thanks to the lairy Westerners (English, mainly, of course). A thought comes out of nowhere. I've left my washing in the internet cafe. Bugger. This means I've lost a pair of shorts, a pair of pants, a t-shirt, some socks and a vest. I didn't have many clothes as it is! Ah well, less to carry.
I finish Northern Lights – bit of an underwhelming ending, but then it is the first in a trilogy – and move on to a novel about Boudica. I’ve not read a historical novel for ages so I get into it quickly, and drift away from Thailand 2550 to Britain 32AD.
I later fall asleep but it’s intermittent. I’m worried about my bag despite it being on a shelf by my head, mostly because I heard a Thai guy tell a traveller earlier that people get on at the stops, run through and nick stuff and get off. And every time the train jolts to a stop at some town in the middle of nowhere I’m shaken awake. It’s not the most pleasant journey but not so bad I wouldn’t do it again.
23 Jan
When I finally awake properly it’s six o’clock and I panic – my train was due at my stop, Surat Thani, at 5.38. I check with a young Thai lad who works on the train – he tells me we arrive in 15 minutes. Of course, this train is on Thai time, not on time.
At the station I ask about a million people which bus I’m supposed to be on as no names seem to tally with what’s on my ticket. They all point to the same bus. That’s good enough for me. I get on. It’s big and there’s loads of space, empty seats, brilliant. I relax. As the bus drives through the Surat Thani province towards Phuket (I think), I see the Thailand I imagined – lush greenery, palm trees, muddy roadsides, wooden houses by brown canals. I imagine myself living in one and quite like the idea – of being surrounded by these lovely helpful people and slightly cut off from the rest of the world. I wonder if anyone would come and visit, or if they could find me if they wanted to. Does a wooden hut on a canal have an address?? I wonder if the idea is only appealing because I’m enjoying being on my own right now, and if that would last. But I’d have Thai neighbours and friends, right? I wouldn’t be alone.
My thoughts are interrupted. Myself and another couple on their way to Phuket are told we need to get off and get on another bus. We rock up to a travel agents where there are lots of grumpy Westerners waiting to get the same bus as us. A German couple is complaining they’ve been there since 5.30am, and the bus was due to leave at 6.30am. It’s now 8am. They’re told two more people are due to arrive and then they’re off. The German guy does some maths. “But there’s only one seat left,” he points out. The Thai woman he’s talking to laughs and runs away.
A couple moves their bags next to me as they ready themselves to get on the bus. He has a shaved head, a goatee; she is blond and pretty. I wonder if I should try and make some conversation and look over. The guy glares at me so I decide not to. I begin to wonder if everyone here blames me and the other couple for the bus being late. I decide not to worry about it.
A couple of lads turn up. They look very young, maybe 19. The bus loads up and of course I end up next to glary man. A Thai man takes everyone’s tickets off them. I gave mine when I arrived so just sit there. The Thai guy is saying he’s short of tickets. Glary man points at me. Cheers, mate. I point out that I’ve already given my ticket and the Thai guy goes off to find it. He does.
And then, of course, who ends up in the seat which has to be shared? The German woman. She kicks off at the Thai man, who starts shouting incomprehensibly in Thai. The German man tries to calm the situation. They get off with the Thai guy promising them another bus. The two lads get on. And then so do the German couple after a conversation I don’t hear. It’s all very tense.
We drive for ages. Thailand really is quite big. I fall asleep. I awake when the van stops. I ask glary man if we’ve arrived. He says, “I think it’s a stop, mate.” He pushes the word ‘mate’ through his teeth in a manner which suggests I’m anything but. I wonder what his problem is. His girlfriend seems okay - she smiles when I let her off the bus before me. But it’s too early in the morning for me to give much of a shit.
We’re at a sort of service station. I’m not hungry yet but I buy some juice. It turns out to be a yogurt drink but it’s just as nice. I buy some water. The Thai guy tries to blag 5 baht out of me by ‘forgetting’ to give me my change. I point out his ‘mistake’. We have a laugh about it. I like this Thai thing of smiling through a dispute, no matter how big or small.
I occupy myself by watching some Portuguese guys horse around. It’s fucking hot but so are they so I don’t notice too much. Back on the bus I fall asleep again. I do that head lolling thing. I wonder if it’s annoying glary man. I’m tempted to actually rest my head on his shoulder but figure a fight with a grumpy six-footer in the back of a mini-van isn’t ideal.
We arrive in Phuket Town. Everyone is dragged into a travel agents. I have no idea what I’m going to do next so figure the last thing I need is some pushy travel agent telling me. I sit down outside with my guidebook and try and work out my next move. A Thai guy comes up and asks me where I want to go. I say I have no idea which throws him. I find this amusing. I ask him where the nearest beach is. He says there are none near Phuket Town. I say I know, but where’s the nearest? He doesn’t understand nearest or closest. I think they have trouble with the s sound.
He tells me he thinks Patong beach would suit me. Is that right, I think. I look it up in the guidebook. Sounds like Ibiza. I decide to stay in Phuket Town. It has the On On Hotel which is where some of The Beach was filmed, and which is very cheap. I want to go and be Leonardo DiCaprio for awhile.
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