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The four horsemen of the budget apocalypse

THAILAND | Tuesday, 12 October 2010 | Views [2095]

Acid flashbacks go communal

Acid flashbacks go communal

The boys night in Melbourne relocated to Asia for nearly a week. It was an inauspicious sign for bank balances, livers, and the price of grain. A trip overseas had been discussed ad nauseam and it took one of us getting married to see it happen. I wasn't willing to go to those lengths, but I was prepared to spend more money in that one week that what I would in the remaining two months in Asia. I still spent the least of all of us as the others took back an estimated half of Thailand's GDP as presents.

The day after the wedding was recovery day where the bride's brother had his resort put on a lunch that cost a few thousand dollars apparently. With 3 vegetarian options, I ate as much as I could in case of an impending famine, but still only accounted for a few dollars worth. I didn't see what the meat options were but they must have been dodo, dinosaur or dugong to end up costing that much.

With big plans for the following day, my cousin Gow and I spent that night at the bar sharing screaming orgasms. They were an amazing, non-incestuous mix of amaretto, baileys, kahlua and vodka. It was happy hour more often than not so they were costing about $3 a climax. Rain changed our plans to go to the nearby marine park in a speed boat so Mel organised a four hour tour. ( 3 words in a row spelt almost identically but all pronounced differently. Crazy language!) Our guide spoke English as well as I speak Polish, so he just dropped us off and pointed in the direction of interesting things.

The first was the Grandma and Grandpa rocks, so named by someone with a strange sense of humour. Yeah, they looked remarkably similar to human reproductive organs but why would anyone want to associate that with their forebears? Possibly to avoid any amorous thoughts, but as uncanny as the resemblance was, they were still just rocks.

A local rum distillery was next where everyone salivated at the thought of consuming a liquor they were claiming to be hangover free. It was the preservatives added to most alcohol, and sugars in mixers that were responsible for regrets and regurgitation. So, if you were down with swigging straight from the bottle, you could guarantee feeling fresh enough to do it again the next day. Sceptical, but hopeful, I brought a bottle to try my luck next time I wanted to act in accordance with my pirate appearance.

An average waterfall followed, then a big Buddha statue and finally lunch where Gow gobbed down some oysters more disproportionate in size than what the Buddha statue was. It was a bold move seeing as he had been weathering his own famine with a bacterial infection in hospital for 3 days. A partial recovery saw him being released for grooms man duties only 2 hours before the wedding. His wife Kellie had previously eaten the same foods so it must have been the darts he had fired at him at a Pat Pong show a few nights before. Apparently the performer had sprayed her secretions around rather liberally so it was surprising he didn't have green welts on his face as well as looking like a poorly animated corpse.

Our guide, Mr. '2 word vocabulary', did have the most pimping disco on wheels at his disposal so we hired his services again that night. We suspected all the lights in the roof would come into their own after dark, and we were not disappointed. The trip to the night markets passed too quickly to thoroughly enjoy being inside a space capsule lit up by a night club style laser show. We could have popped some roundies and had old mate just drive round in circles while we shared feelings of mutual love and appreciation.Simon, the white rider of righteousness had forseen such emotions being shared with Mr Big. in the Bangkok Hilton should we engage in any drug romps, so we bailed out on arrival and got to spending like only short term travellers know how to do.

It was then the Grand Final replay for our last full day together. Elliot is a mad keen Saints supporter and the red horseman of war who was willing to spill the blood of any Collingwood supporter. Good thing we went to a St. Kilda bar because we all ended up leaving before the end without wanting to see the Collingwood rabble doing its victory dance (Apologies Kim).

We headed back to our beach as the other 3 boys were uber keen to hire jet skis. Call me a sissy, not to my face please, but I am not a speed junkie. I am happy to plod along and get to wherever I am going in my own good time. Jet ski's aren't about getting anywhere in particular though. They are all about hooning around in erratic circles while trying to spray rooster tails over whoever is nearest. The rental guys only warning was not turning at full speed and instructions were limited to 'on', accelerate' and 'stop'. He must have sussed me out as the runt of the litter because the decrepit unit he rented to me took at least 10 seconds to reach full thrust.Every mock race started with me drowning in the spray of my competitor as they shot off over the horizon. For about $20, our 20 minutes went by far too quick as I was just starting to get the hang of turning without indicating. The other three let rip and were rewarded with multiple separations from their jet ski in spiralling cartwheels across the waves.

After dinner we headed out for some more blokey fun, virtually overlooking the fact there were women along with us. This time it was a Muay Thai event. As an avid UFC fan now, I can appreciate the skill, tactics and discipline involved in kick boxing. As a pacifist though, I shouldn't have played the pale horseman and wanted all Hell to break loose in the ring. The fighters ranged from psychotic and steroid-raging to almost childlike. The first fighters were the size of jockeys and the ref simply picked them up when he wanted to separate them. Had one of the fighters not been covered in tattoo's, I would have definitely asked him for ID before I served him a beer. Elliot and I put 100 baht against each other for every fight but that soon turned into a farce. Red corner was the home team and they won virtually every fight. One of my blue guys pummelled 5 years of memory out of his opponent only to have the judges decision go against him. He jumped out of the ring righteously enraged while the winner had to be practically carried out.

Unfortunately Gow had struggled on bravely against a recurrence of his infection, not aided by his copious beer consumption and a spicey curry for dinner. 2 fights in he turned so pale he started to glow and took himself outside to bleach the pavement a stylish green curry colour. Mel and Kellie had seen enough of the fighting, and Gow's chameleon skills, so they escorted him home. How he fared I didn't hear as check out was 630am for me the following morning. It was goodbyes all round then as everyone was heading back to Melbourne and reality the next day. It had been fun, and hardly apocalyptic, but it was time to start my next adventure on my own.

Tags: beach, friends, sport

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