Thursday, 24 January 2013

Freewheelin’ in S.E.A - Day 30: The day after the night before

Feeling about as stable as the British economy I somehow managed a cold shower, before packing once more and getting out the door. It was noon and a truck had arrived to take us to the ferry. No time for breakfast, no time for a morning swim in the sea, instead we surfed on the back of the bumpy vehicle, trying not to puke our empty guts up as we bounced towards the dock. We had enough spare time for me to sit on top of our backpacks whilst Sarah scored a couple ‘shakes and sandwiches from a stall nearby. I off’d the Pineapple ‘shake in seconds but couldn’t stomach the sandwich just yet, so I let my bag carry me for a change, and somehow ended up on the ferry. We found two empty rows of seats right away, and laid out on them trying to snooze for the two hour journey. It was less difficult than our previous attempt, still with a thousand grams of sugar from the energy drinks making us dream wildly whilst semi awake, but not the best rest we could’ve hoped for. We arrived at a place called Dan Sak, where a bus was waiting to take us to Surathani. Another few hours of bumping through tiredness and multiple naps and we arrived at a hut where we were told we’d have to wait for our final part of the journey, which would take us to Khao Sok National Park. We had nowhere to stay upon arrival, but the lovely old chap that ran the stopping point was a great help. He showed us a variety of places that he could book us into, and answered every question we posed to him with “OF COURRRRSE” before sorting us out with a nights stay in a jungle hut in Khao Sok. It turned out that he’d actually visited Sarah’s hometown of Scarborough, and the neighbouring town of Whitby and was raving about some fish dish he’d had there, making a smacking noise with his lips like a baby drinking milk from a teat to signify how tasty it was. He was great, I loved him, despite my raging brain he provided some much needed light relief, and looked after us well. Bless him.

Lion King whiskey: Guaranteed to leave you royally fucked.
A van came and we were told to board, but rather than take us to Khao Sok, it instead dropped us at another bus depot, where we then hopped into a different van and went on our merry way. By this point it was gone 6pm, and we were stopping and starting every few minutes, picking up and dropping off locals whilst the driver pocketed cash from each of them. By 9pm we arrived at the location of our jungle hut, in a location aptly named ‘Jungle Huts’, which had twenty odd stairways, each leading up to huts of varying sizes. We dumped our bags, booked a trek the following day with the manager there, then went off in search of dinner. I had my heart set on something super stodgy, preferably pizza, and low and behold, the last joint on this one road of commerce was a pizza place. I did a little ‘feed me before I die of starvation’ dance, ordered a couple of pizzas and stuffed my face with sustenance. I was saved. We got back to our room and started packing a few bits into a smaller bag to take with us to the huts on the lake where we’d be staying the following night, and just as we had everything out, the lights started to flicker. I got up and turned them off, then back on. They continued to flicker, made a strange noise, and then plunged us into darkness. I sat in the dark whilst Sarah went off to find someone to help us, arriving back with two guys and a torch. They were clearly not electricians, and had no idea what the problem was, so we had to pack in the dark, then drag everything to a new, bigger room which they’d opened up for us. By this point, we were both ready to die, so I put the dream gun into my cake hole and blasted my conscious brain all over the bed. Dead.

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