For most people of our generation, Thailand’s Koh Phangan is known for it’s full moon party – where 10,000 revelers descend on the silky silver beaches for an evening of hedonistic escapism.  Now, my dear readers, I’m sure you know that Jeannie and I are not ones to break tradition, and given that we happened to be passing through peninsular Thailand during a full moon we thought it rude not to pop over to the aforementioned island and teach these kids a thing or two about how to p-a-r-t-y.  Oh yes, we’d packed our gladrags and couldn’t wait to give them a jolly good airing.

We arrived a couple of days early to soak up a few rays and top up our tans before the big night.  After a shaky start (involving the worst shit-pit-noisy-scum-filled guesthouse known to man), we settled into our charming bungalow by the sea.  A little patch of paradise – a comfy cool room, a short stroll to the silver sand and clear sea, and a little further to the bar.  We spent our days swimming, drinking, eating and swimming some more – all good preparation for the night of the century.  The islanders are rather thoughtful people – they even threw a ‘full moon warm up party’, just to help everyone find their party legs and refine their moves and grooves ahead of the big night.  Needless to say, we took up the opportunity to warm up and passed with flying colours.

The big night arrived.  Dance moves practiced – check.  Drinking wings functioning – check.  Route home in dark memorised – check.  Oh yes readers, we were ready to blast off and throw the largest shapes known to mankind.  We played a few rounds of cards at home whilst supping cheap vodka that we snaffled from duty free on our departure from Malaysia.  Well, my Malay isn’t that hot, so it was either vodka or paint stripper, either way it taxied us to the launchpad nicely.  Dinner was efficient – half a chicken on a skewer and grilled on the side of the road.  On to the main event…  We tottered down to the beach and began our well rehearsed maneuvers.  Drinking in Thailand is very functional – for about four quid you get a plastic bucket, half a bottle of vodka, a bottle of verging-on-controlled-substance redbull and a mixer of your choice.  We spent the next few hours living our lives through the words of the great philosopher Mike Skinner, who said “Now getting to the bar’s gonna be trouble, so the Marlons’ll have to be doubles.  Then you drink doubles, the same speed you drink singles”.  Uh-oh.  That’s not good.

And I’m afraid my dear, dear readers, that where the story ends.  I would love to tell you about the wonderful night we had under a full moon with the thousands of like minded party goers.  The fun we had with luminous rave paint, the dancing on podiums and chatting to randoms.  However, there’s a rather large hole in my memory which my digital camera is helping to fill, so the details are a little sketchy.  The photos are below – so now your knowledge of the evening is on a par with mine.  If you spot anything I haven’t please let me know.

I clearly used up all my drinking Karma credits and went somewhat overdrawn, as the following day I felt like turd – which is surely indicative of an awesome night.  Needless to say, I was not a happy bunny the following morning, leaving at 11am to jump into a mini bus, onto a boat, onto a coach then onto an overnight train for Bangkok.  It took a whole lot of concentration not to blow a day’s budget on a soiling charge.

Koh Phangan, you’ve been wonderful.  However I think I’m going to have to hang up my bucket and retire.  Goodnight.