Phuket, Thailand...you like?

Awww. Our last day, and I'm sad.

I forgot to mention in my previous entry, but last night, as I awaited Steph and Josh out the front of our hotel, I was propositioned. And not the usual "you wan sarong?", proposition. I mean the...."hey hey...me love you long time" type. Some greasy, old, disgusting man, German with very poor English, waltzed up to me as I awaited, with bated breath, the ping pong tournament.

"*insert funny German word here*" he said.

"Hmm?". "Ah, you speak Engleesh. My Engleesh very poor."

"Ok."

"So....ah..."...*eye-balling me like so many juicy king prawns*...."ah"...*gesturing with hands that indicate... how much?*

I grimaced into a squishy-faced "what?" look...not believing it. For a good 10 seconds I glared while he visually purused my assets. And then, he brought out his wallet and started rifling through it.

"What the (insert extreme profanities here)!" And I stormed off, only to find that he followed me for a few meters before a bolted into the hotel. Eeeeewwwww.

This morning I am still sickened, or was that from the show and beer? Well, I'm a mushy pile of "grossed-out" and manage only half an egg and bun.

And thus, the holiday wind-down commenced. We checked out of one of the two rooms, and kept the other for a few extra hours to "refresh" within throughout the, once again, scorchingly hot day! I carefully pack. I wedged each strategically, oragami-folded sarong into the mere crevices left available after the piles of clothes and souveniers were so viciously shoved in. It's funny how the first part of packing is always a god-aweful shamble, and the second half is executed like a well-rehursed Italian opera. Well, with a backpack ready to explode, like so many green-curry food baby bellies throughout the past fortnight, I ventured out for the last time in Patong. And the mission, I hear you ask? (Australian Federal authorities, please stop reading). DVDs.

We went to the dank shop which had spewed forth so many beautifully crafted leather-goods and entered yet another expanse of consumerism. Like a eunuch's choir, the 'ahhhh' the left my lips resonated through the plastic sleeves of thousands of DVDs. How to choose? With little or no regard to any formal selection criteria.

"Oh...I must have that. 'The Beach'? Well, I am in Thailand. 'American Beauty'...yep...'Ratatouille' (don't judge me)...'American History X'"...25 DVDs and 1,200 Baht later and I was leaving the shop, panicking about getting through customs. I need not have worried.

A quick re-pack to accommodate my new purchases, and we headed off to lunch for the last time together. Well, almost together. Pen was busy doing her own thing, so Steph, Kel, Sarah, our new mate Josh and myself went back to where it all began. The Orchid restaurant, down a little side street in Patong, for one last green curry. One last banana shake. One (well three) last spring roll. Ah, the memories.

Walking back to the hotel to have our last afternoon of nothing-ness, lazing around napping on couches, we had to say goodbye to Josh. It wasn't nearly as sad as I thought it would be. "Jen, I have something to tell you"..."yes", I said...gazing up into his hazel eyes...

"I cheated on you with a lady-boy".

Well, blow me down.

"That's ok, it wasn't working out anyway", I replied. "It's not me, it's you. I just can't have a serious relationship at the moment. I don't think I can handle the long distance thing. I think we should just be friends. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but I just don't think our lives are heading in the same direction."

The afternoon ticked by, minute by minute, as planned (napping on a counch). The taxi came to pick us up, and we turned our backs on Patong, and on Phuket. Waiting for the plane was torturous...the bad (but good) food, the hour-long delay: Phuket was telling us not to leave, but we didn't get the message on time and boarded the plane for Sydney. Tossing and turning falling asleep, a few bad movies, stiff shoulders and we were landing at Sydney International Airport in a storm. It looked cold. An hour long delay sitting on the tarmack while the ground was evacuated, and I was convinced that coming home is indeed not a pleasant experience. I want to go back. Maybe if I just stay on the plane...

Well, this is, as I'm sure you can gather, the end. The ride is over. I have officially popped my international-travel cherry. I am as worldly as I am tanned. And as the holiday-less years lay ahead of me while I re-accummulate enough annual leave to take a long-weekend, I am at least secure in the knowledge that I will not forget this experience. I think I have documented (most) of the trip. There are 3,000 photos to come. My tan will no doubt last the test of time (stop laughing). My friends, whom I had such a wonderful time with in Thailand, will always be around reminding me...

Daily summary;

Goodbyes - 1
DVDs - 25
Carry-on luggage bags - 3
Hours of delay - 1
Last suppers - 1....(well, 2)
Girls returning to Australia - 6

Accommodation summary;

Nights - 13
Days - 14

Backpacker hostels - (thankfully) 0!

Patong Bayshore, Patong Beach
2 nights (rating, 2/5) $28AUD

Katanoi Village, Katanoi Beach
2 nights (rating, 5/5) $25AUD

The Sands, Nai Harn Beach
2 nights (rating 3/5) $24AUD

P.P. Casita, Phi Phi Island
1 night stayed, 3 nights paid (rating 3/5) approx $33AUD

The Cabana Beach Resort
2 nights (rating 5/5) approx $90AUD

Baan Laimai, Patong Beach
3 nights (rating 5/5) approx $48AUD

Photos
I have just realised that there is a monthly limit on the amount of photos you can upload on travellerspoint.com (i love you guys), and as such, I have only added photos to the first two entries! Crap! Well, you'll just have to keep coming back...

Travel Summary;

Tuk Tuks - 4 or 5
Taxis - 1
Minibus' - 1
Motorbikes - 0 (phew)
Walking - lots, and many many near-misses with motorbikes
Elephants - 1
Buffalos - 0 (poor Bill)
Canoes - 1

I loved it!

I think we all know where this is going.

Well, another morning of slumber, and this time I missed out on breakfast completely. This is definately what a holiday should be like (I can feel Steve and Mil clenching their jaws...).

Waking up in time for lunch, we decided to venture forth and find a new place to eat down a side ally. With the lady-boys lining the streets, and a she-man placing our blue plastic placemats on the table, we knew we had found a quality, fine-dining restaurant. We ordered what seemed like one of everything, but with menus larger than the new testament, that might have been a little tricky. Noodles with chicken, pad thai (of course), king prawns, curry, chicken and cashews, prawn cakes, and deep fried prawns on toast. Now, these prawns on toast were dangerous. Really dangerous. Looking like something that they forgot about in the deep-fryer, then remembered and whacked on a plate, my stomach turned over just looking at them. There was so much fat and grease seeping from their crisp edges, that my arteries commenced the clogging process. I carefully extracted the prawn from it's oily prison, and crunched through. Ouch.

An afternoon of swimming and napping later, and we were ready to again venture out for dinner. Yes, as I'm sure you can all gather, this trip is primarily about food. While the rest of us went for steak and burgers at a german restaurant, Steph stayed at the hotel beauty parlour to have hair extension braids weaved. Looking like a totally hot Moroccan rock god, she waltzed, braids flapping in the breeze, to meet me at the bar before we set off for a night of cultural education.

"You like pussy? You wan ping pong show?".......argh, I am disgusted.

The disclaimer here is that I have been peer-pressured into attending a "performance", of sorts, on the basis that the entertainment value of my blog as the trip winds down is at stake. Fine. I distinctly remember outlining how much I didn't want to see it, going so far as to eavesdrop on a conversation in the hotel of a guy discribing how depressing and generally unattractive the whole thing was in order to further strengthen my argument. Alas, the girls wanted Ping Pong, like so many fat, European men.

Well, with an array of fine establishments to choose from, Kel and Sarah bartered with a waitress as to the cost of beer once we entered. Although no cover-charge, they insist on you purchasing beer in order to stay at an extravagent cost of 450 Baht ($13AUD). They got them down to 200 Baht. Entering the bar through a black curtain we reviewed the scene with reservation. A stage in the middle with a half dozen poles and a swing, mirrors and a raised bar edge, benches around the wall and some bar stools a little too close for comfort. We were seated on said bar stools. "Steph, pass the sanitiser". On stage, kitted out in black bunny bikinis and ears, were about 7 or 8 Thai lady-dancers. One, topless wearing only a wrap around tiny black skirt, was walking off stage holding a small cage and a moist canary looking distinctly distressed. I say, call PETA.

After taking a seat a little further back on the benches, and with our beer firmly in hand in a vain effort to dull down the experience (and careful not to set it down too near to the stage), we sat back and watched. In between each "act" is about 15 minutes of the 7 or 8 girls dancing on poles. Not like the talented pole-dancers of Western culture, but like a scared 15 year old at a school dance. I've seen mime artists move more than these girls. It was boooorrrringgg. Then an announcement in Thai and we knew that something was about to happen.

I really don't want to describe it in [any] detail, so I will only say that the dancers sat down on the edge of the stage while 3 or 4 other girls came onstage and....did....things....together. EEWWW. Having said that, there was nothing remotely sexual about it. They seemed bored. They giggled a few times. And left.

Next, 15 more minutes of mime artistry before the gold fish show. Also not something I want to discuss, but to paraphrase: a Thai girl comes out naked with a glass full of water and leaves with 5 gold fish in it. Another 5 minutes or so: the poor canary re-lives the tortures of prior acts. Dancing. 100 meters of string. Dancing. Ping pongs.

I WANT TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!

...and we do!

Walking away [and not looking back], we head to the 'Aussie Bar' for some normal human interaction, where the night wound down and came to a close. Back to the hotel, a few photos in the fairy-lit gardens and sleep. Zzzzzz.

Daily summary;

Canaries - 0....then 1....then 0....then 1
String - 0....then 5, 10, 15....100 meters
Goldfish - 0...then 1....then 2....then 3....then 4....then 5
Ping pongs - 0....then 1.....then 2....then 1....then 0
Level of disgust - 12

Nothing beats the contentedness of waking up, well rested, 20 minutes before breakfast finishes with gleaming, branded, indulgent purchases sitting patiently in wait of being used. A quick paneang and green curry with brioche rolls for breakfast, and I was back to slumber. I'm afraid this blog entry might be a little under-whelming, with a good 60% of the day being taken up with slumber. Oops.

Lunch at 3.45pm was Hungry Jacks. Oh, how disappointed I am in myself, but I maintain that the pull of real bacon did lower me to such levels of McDonalds, and thus I have forgiven myself. Speaking of unforgivable things, I turn my attention to Steph.

Steph, steph, steph, steph, steph. I was hoping that I was hallucinating, or suffering some delusion after inadvertantly inhaling some cheap Hashish, but alas, it was not so.

"What the hell do you mean you can't use your Chanel bag? What do you mean you feel ethically obliged to part with it? I don't understand....you haven't even USED it yet! I promise....your love for it will grow, like a well arranged marriage. Sometimes it isn't love at first stitch, but give it a chance...you owe it to CoCo!"

Alas....her mind was made up. Steph, the elephant-loving, vegetarian, medical scientist aid worker would sell the bag....to me! Woo hoo!

"Well, Steph, I suppose it's for the best. It needs to be with someone who will care for it, love it like their own. I will adopt it in true Angelina Jolie-style".

With Josh returning to join us, the afternoon was spent lazing around the pool, general aimless wandering and then dinner undercover (it had finally rained) at the hotel restaurant. I ordered fresh oysters, again, and lobster thermadore. I must admit, that it was a little overrated. With my childhood spent dreaming of the day when I, Jenni Hall, would be able to afford to eat like a king and order lobster, methinks I led myself to disappointment. Oh well, there are plenty more fish in the sea.

Back to the room and it was lychee, logan berry, grape and guava juice with vodka to wile away the hours to slumber.

Daily summary;

Hours sleeping - 14
Oysters consumed - 3
Rock lobsters consumed - 0.5
Exotic juice and vodka cocktails - 1...2....4....5...

Waking up this morning, for me, was not too bad. Hearing directly from Clarissa about the events of the prior night was disturbing, and I am so thankful that she was ok. Travelling in a group of 6, (and Mum, I hate to admit it), has its distinct advantages. Had Clarissa been alone...

We had missed breakfast in the hotel by about 20 minutes, so after a quick packing up of our stuff and checking out, I ventured forth for my last look around Phi Phi. Some blogging, shopping, pineapple and much water filled the time to 2:30pm, when our boat back to Phuket town, the P.P. Cruiser, left. Settling in for the near-two hour journey, we were glad of the air-conditioning, movies ("Bean") and the slightly comfier seats than the initial trip to Phi Phi. A started dozing off quite quickly, but it became increasingly difficult as the temperature had plummeted to about 5 degrees! It was a shock to the system - I haven't been this cold since last winter in Sydney!

Coming in to Phuket harbour, standing on the side of the boat, I was disgusted with the filth that people have thrown into the water. A plethora of crap, discarded bags, shoes, general garbage, tyres...and dead fish floating everywhere. After the purity of the water on Phi Phi, this was disgusting.

Back on dry land, and crammed into the minibus, we were taken to our next destination: Baan Laimai Beach Resort and Spa on Patong beach. We dropped a few other people off at various hotels before arriving at our own. Once we reached the putrid streets of Patong, people were getting concerned about what quality of hotel I had booked for our last three nights on Phuket Island. "What's the pool like?"..."I can't remember"..."Jen, does it have 'Resort' in the name?"..."I can't remember"...."Does it have 'Spa' in the name?"....

Pulling up out the front, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Opposite the beach, the hotel restaurant, also open to the public, was beautiful. A square bar in the centre, tables laid with white cloth, and Frangipani trees scattered throughout. The wooden boat displat of fresh seafood caught our eye for dinner; crab, lobster, king prawns, oysters, mussels, pipis and fish. We were impressed, and we hadn't even gone into the hotel yet. And it was beautiful too. Fish tanks lining the entrance, a pool with elephants spurting water jets, and the rooms were amazing.

We made our way down to dinner and enjoyed some of the best food we've had. Kel and I shared a half dozen oysters, natural, with fresh lime and chilli that were the size of my palm. I have steak which was mouth-wateringly tender, and the others had an arrange of Thai food and fresh seafood. About half way through dinner the stage next to the restaurant hosted a band of about 10 musicians, with two beautiful Thai female singers, that went through all the jazz standards and popular music. They were great! "Smooth Operator", "Misty" and a fantastic selection of others drowned out the ever-present noise of "Tuk-tuk", "Where you from?" and "You like? Come, I show you more".

After dinner, I had the most amazing experience of my life. Bar none. We went shopping, and were taken to a secret room at the back of a shop. I was nervous. I could feel my money burning a whole in my pocket. My credit cards starting purring, and my heart started beating a little faster....

Bags. Dior, Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chloe, Dolce, Miu Miu and Chanel.

Once I regained consciousness, and had inhaled deeply into a brown paper bag, I was ready. But the choice was overwhelming. The quality was flawless. The combinations were endless. This might take some time.

I walked around clockwise, meticulously. Not a bag was left untouched. Not one Chanel wallet was left un-considered. Not one Bahts worth of stitching was left un-inspected.

Our Thai tour guide, as this was truely an expedition into unchartered territory, was lovely and funny. When we picked up a bag, slid it onto our eager shoulders, he did the same: "Ah, it look good on me too? Hahaha".

Kel, Sarah, and I had our selection. Chanel and Prada were the primary choices of the evening. Steph was struggling with the concept of spending money on a bag that a small Thai child had potentially worked on, but eventually couldn't deny the pull of Coco Chanel and chose a beautiful brown bag and white wallet.

Thus, the negotiations began. Being the designated human calculator, the prices were considered carefully. Our guide was both reasonable and negotiable. Starting price? 6,800 Baht, or approximatly $226AUD for a large white Prada bag, medium black Chanel bag and a white Chanel wallet. I would have paid it. Post-bartering? 5,200 Baht: about $175AUD. A post-sale selection of a gift for Camilla's birthday, and I was emotionally (and financially) spent.

We returning to our hotel room, four items for myself, three for Sarah, two for Kel and two for Steph, we were met by Penny who had also inadvertantly purchased a Dolce & Gabbana bag at another store. In total; twelve items at a total cost of approximately 18,600 Baht ($620AUD). Oh how I wish they had shoes as well

Do not judge us.

Laying out the items, carefully cutting off the tags and strategically and purposfully arranging them, we had a short photo session with the new members of our respective families. Steph spent most of the time justifying her bag to herself and coming to terms with her consumerist side. Sarah and I were at the ready should she decide that she couldn't, in good faith, have the bag. We would barter with her, nay, we would resort to a mud-wrestle if required, in order to be the one to alleviate Steph of her guilt. My, how disappointed we were when she decided that it was fine. Sarah and Kel carefully tested a few of the bags with a lighted to confirm that they were, indeed, genuine leather, and were decidedly satisfied to learn that every splendid item was at least authentic leather, if not branded.

With Kel, Sarah and Clarissa ready for the joys of slumber, Steph, Pen and myself went for a wander to the pool area. Surrounded like the restuarant with fairy lights and frangipani trees, we felt like we were in a scene of "A Midsummer Night's Dream", and frollicked as such. Then it was back to the bar for a Calypso cocktail, and a few songs from the band, which ended up playing till about 1am, and then to bed. After such an exhausting day, we slept.

Daily summary;

Oysters - 300 Baht
Steak and prawns - 550 Baht
Collective bag purchases - 18,600 Baht

Being caught out with a fake?

Priceless...but I don't care!

Coming back from the boat trip this afternoon I couldn't help but think that the pinnacle of the trip had been reached. I have never experienced anything like it (the snorkling and Island hopping), and I fear that it may be some time before I get to see it again. Unfortunately, our plans to take a dive off the Similian Islands in a few days are looking like being cancelled due to most of us having blocked noses. Dissappointing, but at the back of my mind I would hate to dilute the experiences of this morning...

Back on shore, and the first agenda was food! At our hotel Cabana, we ordered like kings and paid only a few dollars per meal. Noodles (again), Pad Thai (again), green chicken curry (again), banana shakes (again)...and yet we never get sick of it! Shower and refresh, and I'm ready for another massage - the lady I had the other day is busy giving a facial to a young European man (?), so I have a new one. A little more painful than the other day, but still blissfully relaxing. I think I even dozed off for a time.

With the evening rolling in, like so many rain clouds (which discarded but a few drops throughout the evening and increasing the humidity of the night to unbearable levels), our last night on Phi Phi Island would need to be massive! And it was. Dinner at one of the beach restaurants, with Josh from Perth joining us for some conversations about the travesty of travel constipation (foul...why must my meal be sullied by toilet humour, I ask?). We ate pizza, mine being an olive oil and rosemary one, which came out with the taste and consistency of a Sao biscuit. A few cocktails to start the night, and then off to one of the local tourist Reggae bars. Buckets of cocktails were being served, 2-for-1 and then a free one at midnight. I did not partake in a full one, but enjoyed some other fine liquer concoctions. In the loud club, sweating like an african water buffalo (?), we danced the night away. At about 12:30am the wet t-shirt competition began with 7 entrants. My, my...what a spectacle. And the girls were HOT!

The first of two disappointing, and decidedly scary, events followed. Clarissa believes her drink was spiked at some point during the night, and luckily was able to let Kelly know that something was wrong and was safetly taken back to our hotel. The second, somehow, and I'm not sure how, all my Baht was stolen from my bag. Strangely, however, none of my cards or camera were taken (?). Although a fun night, I think we are all going to be a bit more careful in our evening ventures, both whilst travelling and in our home country. To the people that spiked Clarissa's drink: karma.

Evening summary;

Drinks spiked - 1
Baht stolen - approx 3,000
Buckets consumed - 0.5
Thai boxing fights witnessed - 2
Wet t-shirts - 7...then 6...then 5