New Year, Same Rain.

So, the Full Moon Party was a horrible, gropey, phone destroying disaster. It was always going to damn me to at least an entire day in bed feeling like I'd die a horrible death if I didn't eat something, and die a much worse death if I did, but in my opinion Mr or Mrs Full Moon could have done me a much fairer deal, and at least given me a half decent night in exchange for both the loss of use of my movement and also the freedom from pain and suffering over the next twenty four, (potentially more) hours.

For roughly the first 31% of the 1st January 2017, I was blissfully unaware of these afflictions upon my body, as I'd managed to fall into a sleep which was deep enough to (initially) not feel the hands of the hostel maid tapping me awake as she angrily shouted at me in Thai. 

Bleary eyed, with not a single inkling as to what I'd done wrong, I just about managed to muster up the strength to shrug my shoulders and hold my hands out with open palms - the universal sign for 'I haven't got the faintest clue what you're talking about...'

'MAEW' she shouted again, and this time pointed at the cat that was curled up next to me in bed... 

I know that coming from me, this might sound like a completely fabricated statement, but I genuinely hadn't let the cat into the room. Sure, I'd spotted it outside my door when I'd arrived back the night before, played for it with a little while, considered letting it in and decided it wasn't a good idea. I suppose the maid had good reason to believe I'd smuggled it into the room, but for once, I was not guilty.

I didn't think it wise to ask one of my dorm mates to take a photo of me with the cat whilst the maid was there, and she'd shooed it off of my bed, but luckily he decided to return when the maid had buggared off, and it felt like the Full Moon God had gifted me a furry hangover friend.

The cat and I managed to watch the entire series of 'Planet Earth 2' that day. David Attenborough's soothing tones got us through what would have otherwise been some pretty tough hours.

Really crap picture of the cat on my bed.

Really crap picture of the cat on my bed.

January 2nd, and I was able to stand on two feet and make it out into the real world. I was across the road at the supermarket, trying to hold myself together, when I bumped into Derek, who I'd met in Koh Lanta. He'd hired a moped for the day, and even though my plans had been simply to survive the trip to the shop, grabbing enough vital supplies that I wouldn't need to leave my bedroom again for at least the next 48 hours, Derek's invite and adamancy that the fresh air would make me feel better soon saw me putting on a helmet, climbing onto the back of his bike and heading for a trip to visit a waterfall.

Phaeng Waterfall turned out to be at the top of an Everest-like mountain. (At least it felt that way whilst we were walking up the path, anyway...) But true to Derek's word, once we were at the top, I felt a lot better for being in the fresh air. We sat on a rock, with our feet in the water, eating crisps and talking about life and travelling. It's a good job I'd bumped into him, or I would have ended up spending another day in bed with the cat, re-watching the first series of 'Planet Earth.' Being out and about was a much better alternative, (obviously no offence to David Attenborough intended,) and I ended up having a really good day.

Photo taken from Google Images of some other people sat where we were sat, because I had no camera to get a photo of us.

Photo taken from Google Images of some other people sat where we were sat, because I had no camera to get a photo of us.

On January 3rd, all my friends were leaving Koh Phangan to move onto various other destinations. I was supposed to be leaving as well, but everyone in my dorm room had moved out too, and the owner offered me a really cheap rate if I wanted to stay an extra night. To be quite honest, the prospect of having full control of the air conditioning had sold me before she'd even suggested the idea, and I'd geared myself up for another day of reading in bed, with the AC on full, so for the first time in months I could enjoy the comfort of lying under the covers, without drenching the entire bed in sweat.

I did venture out for a little while, in an attempt to find a shop that was able to repair my phone, but the storm that had appeared out of nowhere and destroyed my phone in the first place, decided to re-appear out of nowhere, and soaked to the bone, I gave up and went back to the hostel to read.

There was no luck finding a repair shop on Koh Phangan and the rain was showing no signs of stopping. I arrived the next afternoon on Koh Samui a little grumpy and a lot wet. The dorm I checked into smelt of sewage and the air conditioning was broken, so it felt like I'd moved into a smelly sauna. The communal area was one that guests were allowed to smoke in, and was the only place that the WiFi 'worked,' so I was forced to sit down there for at least a little while. Due to the non stop rain, practically every single guest was crammed in there hidden amongst clouds of smoke - so many people trying to connect to the wifi they were rendering it completely useless. I could hear about four different (terrible) songs playing on different speakers at the same time which was driving me criminally insane, there was a loud and very obviously rude and obnoxious Bristolian guy who was acting like a dick in general, and I could almost feel the minutes dropping off of my life as the only air there was to breathe was secondhand smoke. 

My options were to sit in the common room, where the smoke and noise and general busyness meant I was likely to snap at a random person (or more likely the Bristolian guy who was doing my head in,) to relocate to the dorm, which smelt like a Portaloo on a Sunday evening at Glastonbury, or to put on my trainers (for the first time in months) and head out into the rain. 

It says a lot about the hostel that I chose to spend the next few hours, traipsing through the rain, looking for a shop that might be able to repair my phone, or sell me a secondhand one for cheap. If I'd thought the heavens couldn't open any further, I couldn't have been more wrong, and as the rain continued to pound down, I found myself wading through the shin deep, dirty river which used to be the street. Completely defeated, I made my way back to the hostel, where of course the shower wasn't working and my only choice was to put on some dry clothes and get an extremely early night.

Another photo borrowed from Google Image Search. 

Another photo borrowed from Google Image Search. 

I was woken in the early hours of the morning by the loud Bristolian, (of course he was in my room...)  returning from a night out with the rest of the people from our dorm. They'd obviously all been out drinking together, and one of them suggested that the loud guy should be quiet, as I was sleeping.

"Screw them!" he'd replied, (or something along those lines, anyway,) before turning all the lights on and bashing about a bit more loudly than he already had been doing. I shot him a filthy look before rolling over and trying to get back to sleep, only to smell cigarette smoke a few minutes later, and feel him flicking his cigarette ash on me. I knew that speaking up wouldn't benefit me in the slightest, and I was already sick of his voice that day, so I just closed my eyes again and pretended to sleep.

I was awake early the next morning, hoping that the common room would be peaceful, smoke free and empty enough that the WiFi might actually connect. The only other people in the room were the loud Bristolian who had woken me the night before, and some girls. The loud Bristolian was talking animatedly to the girls, and I couldn't help but listen in on his conversation.

"So I got back to the dorm with the others last night, we were all creeping around really quietly so as not to wake the girl who was asleep, and the bitch suddenly woke up, turned on her light and shouted at me! I told her to calm down and she got really angry and started swearing at me. So when she was asleep, I smoked a cigarette and flicked the ash all over her...'

The loud, lying Bristolian was laughing and the girls were laughing too, and I couldn't help but call his stupid loud laughing face out on his blatant lie. When I explained that I was the 'bitch from the bed below' and I'd not said a word to him when he'd got back - even when he'd purposely woken me up and I'd felt him flick his cigarette ash all over me. His face instantly gave away that his version of the story had all been a lie, the girls stopped laughing and one of them asked him what the point in making up stories was? I didn't stick around for long enough to find out if being caught out shut him up - I was checking out a day early and going to Phuket....