Project Runaway

It is December, but as there has been no change of seasons to mark time, I feel as if it is July. Malaysia is a long ways back now. We had worked our way up the coast and then crossed into Thailand. I am hungover and on an overnight train to Bangkok. We decide to order beer, hair of the dog and all that, and the attendant slyly convinces us to buy her one also.

We have just left the island of Koh Lanta where our 1 week stretched into a little over 2. We stayed in little beach bungalows with thatched roofs and hammocks swing out front. Fisherman’s Cottage is run by Kun and his Merry band of men. There is ‘O’ the gentle charmer, and Lab, laid back and good-humoured.  They all have pet birds that are scattered around the property in pretty wooden cages. The birds are Red Whisker Bulbuls and they are the guy’s babies. The birds compete in singing contests,  and Luc was able to with Lab to a local one where Lab’s bird came in 4th. He won a case of Fanta and bananas. First place won a rice cooker, fan, and chinese noodles.

Home Sweet Home

Nicole left her teens and became twenty while we there. She happens to share her birthday with the King of Thailand, so it was a public holiday. The crew threw her a great party. They had someone bake a cake, and the baker seemed to use everything in her pantry, from chocolate chips, oreo cookies, and jellied candy. Nicole got to put a wish on a large white paper lantern that was lit and floated away over the ocean as we watched from the beach.  The boys had even got her gifts, sparklers, and fireworks. I wondered if the King was having as much fun.

Birthday Girl

It was so easy to settle on Koh Lanta and we met so many wonderful people. We spent our days swimming, snorkeling, and scootering to other beautiful beaches. There was usually a football match between staff and guests (some from other resorts) and it was fun to watch the good-natured rivalry. In the evenings there would be parties at the bar and sometimes ‘O’ would do the traditional Thai fire dance down on the beach.

Then there were the Thai massages. I can’t forget to mention the massages, the ones you get on a raised platform on the beach for less than $8 CDN. The ones we were getting every few days. No, must rub in, er, mention those.

The Beach

So that brings us back to why I am on a train horribly hungover. I know better to do this before a ‘travel’ day, but the guys threw a party and it just sort of rolled from there. It was a helluva party though. Earlier in the day, Dwayne, Luc, and a chap named Ron, had hung out on Long Beach where apparently 2 young hot Italian girls were hanging out (I think literally). The story goes that Luc came out of the water, probably in slow motion, shook the water out of his hair, still in slow mo, as the Italian girls watched his every move. After careful coaching/egging on, by Dwayne and Ron, he approached them. Things went well. He came away with a date to meet them at a bar near where they were staying. They are 20 and 22. Apparently he is 19.

Back at the ranch, this story created a buzz of activity. Everyone got involved in what he should wear, people searched their huts for, yes, condoms. Multiple offers flooded in to take him over there, no doubt to check out the perfect creatures themselves. He was the conquering hero, he left in a hail of confetti with a marching band playing ‘Long Live the King’, o.k., not really, but practically.

Long story short? He was late. They waited 45 minutes, then left. He raced to their hotel but the office would not give out their room number.

When he returned too quickly, the entire restaurant and bar let out a collective groan of disappointment. The star player had missed the goal on a crucial shot. But then they reminded Luc of a key piece of the story, something to cheer him up. They were there. And they waited 45 minutes. For him.

Merry Christmas to our family and all our friends, those at home and all the new ones we have met from around the world.