Ko Tao

3rd-6th Nov

Unfortunately we had less than 24 hours to spend in Ko Samui before moving on to the smaller island of Ko Tao, slightly to the north. We arrived there around lunchtime, following a boat trip that made me wish I was back on that elephant. The water was too choppy for us to go up on deck, so instead we were trapped inside in what was basically a cinema. It was a toss-up which was more likely to induce vomiting first: the movie that was being shown - `How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days`- which was cheesier than the cheese counter at Sainsburys, or the violently undulating horizon. Luckily both Lisa and I just about survived with our breakfast intact, but it took a while after we docked for the sensation of being on an old rickety rollercoaster to subside.

Once we had recovered we spent the afternoon exploring our new surroundings. Ko Tao is a lot less developed and commercialised than Ko Samui, for which reason our accommodation was a little more rustic, although still perfectly adequate, and located in similarly attractive gardens complete with swimming pool. Later that evening we met up with my good friend Mr Fells, last seen holding a bottle of champagne whilst slaughtering `Fly Me to the Moon` at my leaving do (a chilling portent of things to come). He had very graciously agreed to interrupt his world tour to join us for a few days and had luckily been able to find himself a bungalow at our resort. After dinner at the restaurant we headed into the local village in search of some excitement. However, it appeared that excitement during low season in Ko Tao was not an easy thing to find: by 11pm everything was closed for the night. Disappointed, we wandered back towards our resort, which is when we spotted (or rather heard) the karaoke bar. As someone who has been resident in Japan for almost a year this made me very excited. It didn`t have quite the same effect on my two karaoke-virgin friends, but after a bit of gentle persuasion I managed to get them to go in, promising that we could leave after an hour. Three-and-a-half hours and several bottles of Chang beer later, we all stumbled out with glowing faces and sore throats, having murdered just about every song in the English repertoire from Frank Sinatra (of course), to the Carpenters and, bizarrely, `Pretty Fly for a White Guy` by The Offspring. I had succeeded in making two karaoke converts and I dare say a few musicians were turning in their graves and inserting earplugs that night.

As a result of our previous night`s exploits neither Lisa nor I made it out of bed before 1pm the next day. We spent it doing all the things people are supposed to do on holiday: sunbathing, swimming and eating. Our alcohol consumption that night was a lot more subdued and we were tucked up in bed at the same time as the rest of the island.

The following day saw us making a much earlier start, as we had booked a snorkelling trip around the island. Ko Tao is renowned for being one of the best diving spots in Thailand; however, due to fears about claustrophobia and, to be honest, drowning, we decided to opt for an activity that would keep at least some parts of us above the water. There`s nothing scary about snorkelling...or so we imagined. I was expecting to swim out from the beach and stay in water not too far out of my depth. I was therefore a little perturbed when our guide stopped the boat in rough, open water near a group of rocks known as `Shark Island`, chucked us each a pair of flippers and a mask, and told us to jump in. Hmmm, maybe I`ll just stay put and think about it for a while. Needless to say though we made it in eventually, and once I`d acquired a lifejacket and ditched the flippers, which were more of a hinderance than a help, it really wasn`t that bad. The next four stops proved to be a lot less intimidating: the water was calmer and clearer, the shore was closer and there were no further mentions of sharks. And the fish were just incredible - blue ones, orange ones, stripy ones, spotty ones - it was like sminning in an aquarium. Our last call of the day was at an idyllic island called Ko Nang Yuan, where we stopped for a couple of hours for swimming and sunbathing. Which is where the trouble started. When I got home and took a shower I realised that I had got a bit sunburnt. Ok, so that`s an understatement: I`d practially fried my butt cheeks off, as well as acquiring a stripe about 2 inches wide across my lower back where the top of my swimsuit hadn`t quite reached the bottom. This made both sitting down and fastening my trousers extremely difficult, which was a little inconvenient considering our 8-hour bus journey back to Bangkok the next day, where it would be necessary for the ease and comfort of the other passengers to do both.

That evening, in order to dull the pain afflicting our poor chargrilled bodies we set off for the strip of restaurants and bars around Sairee Beach. It is a truth universally acknowledged that the best way to cancel out pain in one part of your body is to make another one hurt even more. It must have been a subconscious awareness of this that led us to the restaurant on the beach where everything on the menu seemed to have been lovingly prepared with the sole aim of removing the roof of your mouth. Poor old Danny had to admit defeat with the salad he ordered, where chillies were outnumbering every other ingredient about five to one. Lisa made a valiant attempt with the green curry but eventually that proved too much as well. True to form I was the only one who made it over the finish line, in all likelihood due to the fact that at the speed I eat the food never has a chance to touch the sides, let alone burn them. By the time my plate was clear though my lips were positively on fire, and it took three hastily downed glasses of cold white wine before normality returned, to my mouth if not my head.

In an attempt to do anything which didn`t involve setting any part of our anatomies on fire we wandered down to the seafront to check out the festival that was happening that week. We think this was a smaller version of the flower festival of Loi Krathong, which had started in Chiang Mai (unfortunately) just as we were leaving. People released small floats containing candles on to the river, as well as small illuminated hot-air balloons into the sky - very pretty. We thought about joining in, but at 800 baht (about ten pounds) a go it seemed a little extortionate, so we resigned ourselves to merely spectating. Yet another good day, but sadly almost our last, as the next morning we would be on a bus back to the capital.