A 'Miner' Annoyance....

Stepping off the boat, I'm soon swallowed up by the crowds and at the same time, all alone again. Having got used to being around someone, I feel strangely exposed and need to adjust to being in my own company again. I hope I don't get on my nerves too much. Far from being totally relaxed when I'm alone, I feel the constant chatter in my head is louder than ever, only I have the extra effort of having to keep up both sides of the conversation...

The sun is hotter than ever today, and I cram into the back of a taxi-truck with several other beefy-pitted travellers from various nations and we head off down the dusty road to our respective hotels and hostels, each watching with trepidation as we pull up at several flea-pit resorts, all silently praying that it's not our own. Luckily, I'm more than impressed when the Thai driver shouts out "Dewshore" and it's my turn to clamber out and gather up my battered luggage.
There seems a be direct correlation between the quality of the hotel and the friendliness of the guests: the more luxurious the resort, the less easy it is to befriend people, whereas the grottier hotels/hostels have more of a "we're all in this together" sense of camaraderie. I'm constantly torn between the two, but on this occasion I'm glad I plumped for the nicer option, as my bungalow is very sweet, nestled between the infinity pool and a breathtaking beach - paradise for the next few days.

That evening I reconnect with Steve who runs The View in Baan Tai, after wandering along the pitch-black roadside for ages, flagging down various taxis until I finally find one who has a vague idea of how to find it. He seems pleased to see me, and we spend the evening catching up, drinking Changs and vodka shots at the bar with several English gap-year girls and a couple of Slovakian pharmacists, who appear to have gotten high on their own supply since they are skinny-dipping in the pool and babbling animatedly long into the night, shouting over the music...

I am rudely awoken the next morning by the sound of the caged miner bird who lives directly outside my bungalow and insists on wolf-whistling loudly approximately every 15 seconds. It would appear I also stopped off at the 24hr 7/11 on the way home as I have crisps in my bed and a carbonara toasty wrapper next to my head. And now my miner-bird mate has even learnt how to impersonate the sound of the motorcycles beeping...gah! Although after several hours of sunbathing, swimming and shell-gathering on the beach I get bored and find myself fully engrossed in conversation with the bird. He can say "sausage" now too....I'm proud of that one!

I had intended to go to the Waterfall Party this evening, but it's gale force winds and torrential rain so I decide to give it a miss. I step out onto my bungalow veranda and it's like someone's holding a hairdryer on full speed and heat directly onto my face...think I'll stay in. Later, peering through the curtains of my bungalow, I note that the miner bird is close-beaked and clinging onto his perch for dear life....not quite as chatty now, huh, lil fella?  Feeling smug, I close my curtains and fire up the air-con. I might even manage a full night's sleep at this rate...