Poor Stevie

holy phut, bo phut!

J-man and I have ended up at a resort where many people seem to be taking their second honeymoon or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. If I were any other person, I’m sure I’d be disappointed. But hanging with old people means quiet sleeping time, polite greetings in the hallways and feeling superior because my body is not yet on the great journey south. I get to do a lot of the latter because the old women staying here – they seem to be mostly European – still rock out poolside in their high cut, sometimes even string, bikinis.

It’s our second real day on Koh Samui and it feels a lot better than it did yesterday. We were in for a small rude shock when we realised it was a little more expensive here than we anticipated. We choked on our second rate food from the pool bar after handing over $30 for a burger, which came with a weird stale bread stick, and some beers. I mean $30! C’mon Third World let me take advantage of you, isn’t that the sole reason you exist? Luckily, my fat Western expectations were met once we left the compound and went across the road for $1 beers. That’s more like it! Now, fan me with your life savings, peel me a bunch of grapes with your eyelashes and hire a tame elephant to mix my cocktails.

The best part of Thailand so far is doing it with J-man. That came out wrong. Yes, there was that key party with the German family, which I won’t write about here, but I mean travelling with J-man. Having spent a very small amount of time in Asia, I know that smiling politely and saying “no thanks” is the best way to get rid of hawkers. But Joel, being the kind soul he is, will talk to them, hear what they have to say, consider their offer carefully before telling them a lie, like “we are late to meet friends” or “we’re just off to get some bottled water!”

While we’re here I’d like to: snorkel, see the Big Bhudda, look at the lude Grandmother and Grandfather rocks, ride a scooter, adopt a gibbon and get my nails done ghetto fabulous style.

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