Wednesday, 30 July 2014

The Recovery Position

A mere 3 hours after collapsing into my bed following the Black Moon party my eyes ping open and refuse to close again. The room is like an icebox, refrigerated to the max with the air con cranked up, so that my neck is stiff and I can't feel my extremities. I feel like I've just trekked to the North Pole...naked.  I also appear to have been savaged by several hungry mozzies who are flying lazily around the room, drunk on my vodka-spiked blood. These are incognito mosquitos - unlike the ones in other parts of the world, these Asian badboys don't make that annoying droning sound heralding their proximity, or any sound at all in fact, preferring to make a stealthy approach, like an insect SWAT team.

Cursing them loudly, I eventually admit defeat and drag my weary carcass down to the beach for a restorative Thai massage and a local spicy dish of sweet and sour something-or-other. The Aussie chicks are Facebooking me to come party at the beach club again, but whilst my head is saying yes, every other part of my body is steadfastly refusing to allow it, so instead I almost wear my flip-flops out dragging my exhausted limbs back to the hotel, armed with various drinks and munchies for a quiet afternoon in a trance half-watching Despicable Me 2, which is about as intellectual as my brain can handle right now.

I spend the rest of the day in my decompression chamber of a  hotel room, psyching myself up for the ferry crossing to Koh Phangan bright and early in the morning. I have to remind myself that I'm supposed to be relaxing on this trip, and I am permitted the odd non-eventful day betwixt the dancing and partying. Yin and yang, rest then Chang.....

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