Part 2 – Koh Samui, where I hope to never drive a motorbike ever again

I was going to hold this a bit longer, but Schrama really really wanted it. And, I mean, if she finds this blog exciting, that's saying something. Can't make her wait ;)

For a few days before New Year’s Eve, my friend Jen and I camped out on Koh Samui before heading over to Koh Phang-Nga for the main event.

“Koh” means island in Thai. In case you weren’t following.

Koh Samui is much larger than the other islands, with a lot more to see and do. This was fortunate for us, since the sun refused to show its face for our ENTIRE stay. Literally, the moment I got out of the cab and on to the beach, the sun went behind some clouds. And never came back. So other than some burned shoulders, I am still pasty after a week at the beach. Lame.

When I say “camped out,” I mean that in a near literal since. We embraced the bungalow life again at a nice place called New Hut, and stayed riiight on the water, in a little tepee on stilts. It was adorable, and it was beautiful to fall asleep and wake up to the sound of the waves. Of course, we were always covered in sand, but who really cares when it’s pretty and white sand? At 350 baht a night, we weren’t complaining.

For those of you in the States, that’s around 15 bucks a night. Total. $7.50 each.

Well, I complained when our neighbors stayed up super late and brought out iPod speakers to blast really shitty pop music. But I didn’t complain about the sand.

We attempted some beach time on the first day, which was fine but cloudy. We gave up with the rain started really coming down.

We found a great little night market with amazing cheap food, which would have been much cooler if it wasn’t surrounded by little gazebo pole-dancing bars. Seriously. It looks like a cute little street with a market …. And then you realize that the gazebos are full of nearly naked Thai women dancing on poles. Sad, sad.

On one of the nights we met a large group of hot foreigners who were training at a Thai boxing gym on the island. What is it about me and the foreign boxers? Seriously?

Of course we met them on the ONE night that they were staying in, for the sake of their livers. Ugh. We flirted as best we could, but no one was up to party. So we were left to wander in search of some cool people.

We didn’t manage to find any – but we DID make some pseudo-friends who were too drunk to notice when we stole their beers. They had promised to buy us one, and we were sick of waiting. I feel like that’s overzealous acceptance, and not really theft. And they were tools.

The next day we rented some motorbikes to explore the island and see what it was all about. It was a fun drive to the different neighborhoods, seeing the fishing town, and the more deserted beaches, etc. We made a quick turn at a sign for a waterfall, which ended up being quite a hike. Luckily we had our bathing suits on, so we went for a quick swim. Beautiful, beautiful. Great way to pass the cloudy day.

The bikes were a blast, for the most part. I loooove driving. But at the end of the day we headed to the crowded beach to get a look before the sun went down. And that small stretch between Hat Lamai and Chaweng is where I almost died. 3 times.

The first time wasn’t my fault at all – a truck decided to pass another truck, in the wrong lane, around a curve, on a huge hill. I happened to be the first in a line of motorbikes coming around the curve in the opposite direction, and we were using most of the lane to keep from turning too hard and skidding out. Luckily I don’t usually freeze in terror, so I was able to swerve in time to avoid being killed in a head on collision.

Next, my purse got stuck in my basket, or something, and I tried to make a similar turn on a similar hill. But I was pushing left … and my bike was still going straight. This left ME in the wrong lane this time. I pushed a little harder and got out of the lane – luckily, a nice British man noticed the terrified look in my face and made some room for me to get back in control.

The last time was like the first, only a closer call. At this point, I was ready to pull over and hitchhike home.

Damn Thai drivers. Like honking your horn will guarantee that I can get around you? Will the sound provide enough cushion in case we do hit one another? No, dude, that’s just not how it works.

All of this trouble, and the main beach just looks like a slightly prettier version of Pattaya. Which, if you remember, was like Miami or Cancun. Full of drunken fools paying too much for crappy Western food and looking to score. Like a foreign version of American Pie 2, with a bunch of Stiflers running around. Not as cute, just as bastard-y.

THIS is what I almost died for?

But the sand was really pretty, and I went for a glorious swim. So that’s something.

We dropped off the bikes 30 minutes late, unscathed. Although I’m pretty sure that day cost me at least 3 years off of my life expectancy. But once I’m that old, I’m sure I won’t notice anyway. Right?

I really don't know how many parts this will be - probably 3. So yeah, that means there's another one coming.

I need to learn how to summarize better.