The Vagabonds

Three islands later and we have finally returned to Bangkok:
- Koh Phag Ngah had panoramic beaches and winding roads
- Koh Samui had a stir and an airy buzz amidst its plethora of bars and diverse array of prostitutes (all HIV positive, of course)
- Koh Tao had…well, Koh Tao had nothing really.

The succinct bus journey to our first destination, Koh Phag Ngah, comprised of only 11 hours, followed by another 2 hour boat journey. Although the duration was nearly unendurable, it was appeased via the whimsical entertainment provided by the obscure and polarised couple from…France.
According to the atomic family, two most important facets are the mother and father; the former who is dainty, timid and quaint; the latter who is strong, robust and masculine.
Forget this preconception immediately.
‘Winston’, who was the man (we use this term solely in the scientific pretence) of couple was as fragile and efemminate as a pink vase, whereas ‘Lurch’ (the man-woman-thing) was, as Jakey put it, “built like a brick shithouse”.
Their relationship was nevertheless one of absolute adulation, only being restricted by Winston’s affinity for his beloved teddy bear. Whilst Winston had his embodifying toy, Lurch on the other hand had her rather conspicuous t-shirt which prominently stated that “YOU DON’T KNOW ME!”
And thank God for that!

In Koh Phag Ngah, the ocean was shimmering, the beaches were golden, the island; small, yet without being unobtrusive. To epitomise this wholesome beauty, the weather was dull, morose and overcast whilst being complimented by intermittent rainfall. Despite this however, neither of us exulted in this setback and our time on the island was tumultuous.
For the first time this trip we rented a motorbike and once we adapted to this sacraficial death trap, we explored the island. Most notably, the ‘Hat Rin Hills’ which had a 20% incline, were and arduous and demanding endeavour for our great lump of metal, even in first gear. Jakey almost almost crashed whilst rancorously climbing up them, but fortunately he dived of f the bike before any extensive damage or wounds could be inflicted upon him. Similarly, since then, Jakey has incinerated his leg twice on the exhaust pipe, resulting in two conspicuous life-long scars.
Now, envisage this: Chirping birds, buzzing mosquito’s, isolated roads, absolute darkness and two young buffoons unable to navigate their way back to their beach huts. The unspoken word is often the most powerful and both of us, although silenced with apprehension, mutually acknowledged that we might be spending the night out in the wilderness. One hour and one newly purchased map later however, we located our destination and fortunately found it.
Koh Phag Ngah also hosts the worlds largest beach party. Approximately between 12,000 – 30,000 people partake in this monthly event and expectedly, our experiences were drunken, eccentric and extensive.

The scuba diving sessions in Koh Tao were, for Jakey at least, very terse. In fact, he took the primary training session which partook in a standard swimming pool with such courageous perserverance, that he capitulated after fifteen minutes. Nevertheless, Pepe continued and completed the course before we both left for Koh Samui.
Here we watched Thai boxing, played a game of soccer with 22 Thai adults and went on a cable zip ride through the verduous jungle areas of the island. Samui, being the commercialised sister island of Koh Phag Ngah, had a surplus of other activities to observe. The most anticipated of these was the perceptibly acclaimed ‘football golf’, which, as the blurb ingeniously asserted, “was like golf, but with a football.” This aforementioned blurb enticed us due to the vivid descriptions of the “picturesque scenery” and the gaping plains which helped comprise the course. Consequently we were aghast with bitter resentment once we discovered that it was in fact no larger than a domestic British backgarden. And so it goes in Thailand…

Tomorrow we are taking a brief visit to Laos before having a prolonged stay in Vietnam.

Adios senioritas

Five days into the voyage and we are still learning about the modes, attitudes and conducts of travelling. Before we left, on several occassions, we were warned of the dissimilarity between the Thai culture and our own. What we were not forewarned about however was the perennial bleating of the ‘Tuk Tuk’ drivers, the toxic fumes of Bangkok (Pepe wants to purchase a filtering mask whereas Jakey wants to absorb even more of the wholesome air) and the dire state of the country’s taxi rank.

Problem #1 – Duration into the trip: 20 minutes.
After talking to our Japanese ‘father’ in the airport, we went to the taxi rank. All of the airports taxi’s belonged to a company entitled ‘Meter Taxis’, whose name was conspicuously presented via a salient sign on each of the subsequent car roofs. Despite this however, once we entered the cab, the over-zealous driving insisted that there was no meter-fare available.
So despondently we left the vehicle and found a new driver who would not charge us a prerequisited extortionate rate, as instructed by our guru, Anthony Jacobs.
This however came at an expense; our personal safety. A duff lock, a wiper blade (yes, just one that cleared only half of the windscreen) which struggled in in its battle against the falling rain to clear the tinted glass, and a car boot that was secured by a thin piece of rope!
Later that day after surveying the area of Sukhimvit, we decided to have a Thai massage. Essentially, we were both just taken to our own personal torture chamber and abused for the following hour. Afterwards though, for the first time since our arrival, we experienced the hospitable nature of the Thai people as we were offered a cup of herbal tea each, which Jakey vigorously refused. On the hand however, in stark contrast to this amicable gesture, in the restaurant we ate at for dinner, the waiter gaved us an ‘uncapped’ bottle of water (which had no doubt been refilled with intoxicating tap-water).
After our meal we observed the nightlife in the surrounding area, but we think we ended up in ‘Go Go Bar’ central, as opposed to a cultured drinking area.

The next morning after breakfast we boarded a bus without air conditioning and headed for Koasan Road. Once we arrived, we checked in at the ‘Bella Bella Guesthouse’ which is now, unlike KD, our second home. That night after dinner we watched the England game against Austria in a bar swarming with Brits and Thai people wearing authentic ‘David Beckham No.9′ jerseys. There, we met a guy called Peter whom we may meet up with in Australia.
On our gentle stroll back to the guesthouse, we encountered Thai Boxing in its rawest form when a Thai waitress threw her butchers knife to one side before proceeding to maul her fellow co-worker to a steady death.

After purchasing our bread and water for the day on Sunday afternoon, we found a ‘Tuk-Tuk’ driver named ‘Chi’ who became our personal chaffeur for the day at the reasonable price of 75p each. We told him to take us to the numerous markets in Bangkok, but by the end of the journey we had only visited 3 temples, two suit shops, a shopping plaza in Siam Square and a fruit market that was about as clean as Thailand’s tap water.

To compensate for Chi’s failed attempts to take us to any markets (the fruit market hardly counts), the next day we took a 3 and a half hour bus to Damnoen Saduak where the floating market is situated. As the market closes at 11am we decided to stay in the local province overnight so that we could visit the market during the early hours of the following morning (8am). The prior day when we arrived in the area, we arranged for a boat driver to pick us up at 7:30 am, but the arduous worker arrived at 7:20 instead! Once there we bought a photo album, a notebook and a bunch of bananas to fill our depleted stomachs as the night before we barely ate; in the restaurant despite asking for just noodle soup and rice, we were given fish soup and pork rice. The night was salvaged however through our musical renditions of ‘All the Small Things’ and ‘Sex Bomb’ on the resident karaoke machine, which were performed to an elated audience comprised of 5 or 6 Thai’s, who just wanted a quiet meal.
The next days will be placid due to Yom Kippur and then we will leave Bangkok to tour Thailand.

Hello! Bonjour! Hola! etc.
So, what a pristine start to the voyage. Not just Jakey but Pepe too was late for the shuttle flight to Heathrow airport. With magnificent strides of exuberant determination Big P (Pepe’s dad) ran to and fro, forward and back, trying to find the bemused Jacobs party. 35 minutes after the scheduled meeting time all was fortunately resolved as the two families entered each others paths. A few tears followed from Jakey’s mum and some subsequent “Oi Guvoutz” from Pepe’s grandpa, before the two vagabonds went their separate ways.
And so it begins…
We’re currently slumped in Heathrow airport watching the majestic planes take their flight from a vast, gaping window. Within the next 90 minutes we would have boarded our plane and finally embarked on our journey.
Pepe’s mind is filled with thoughts of lofty aspiration whereas Jakey is thinking about Thai massages.
The walkie talkies provided by the Jacobs household unfortunately do not function – quite like Pepe’s family – and so therefore we will have to purchase some new ones.

Until next time, I guess, bye.

Pepe
Jakey

P.S. Please add comments!!!
P.P.S. We’ve added a few photographs – click on the Gap Year Photo’s & Video’s link to your left hand side