OK, so from here on out I'm going to be trying a different format for the blog. It's going to be shorter, more frequent, and not necessarily in chronological order. Basically, it's going to suit my schedule and fluctuating motivation levels much, much better.
Before I dig into anything else, I need to finish up the Thailand story from last year (2010/2011), which has two stories worth being told.
The first was the Full Moon/New Year's Eve countdown party, which was, hands down, the best party I have ever been to in the entirety of my life. Some of you may know I've been to a party or two, and this one takes the trophy, for sure.
Navid and I were staying on an island about an hour's boat ride from the party and, try as we might, couldn't book a hotel for the night. (It can be difficult to book a room on New Year's Eve the day of, apparently...) So from the start we knew it was going to be a long night, which was cool, because Navid and I have survived many a long night in the past. We met some cool English folks on the beach at our hotel and decided, "Hey, what the hell. We've got some new friends. Let's all go to the party."
We get to the island and hop on the first tuk-tuk we see, and, as it's pulling away, a very, very drunk man, running and waving his hands wildly in the air, chases us down and hops on the back of the tuk-tuk. I knew from the first glance that this guy was bad news. He spends the ride to the beach drifting in and out of consciousness in between crazy stories about being awake and partying for 3 days on end by means of various drugs, shouting unintelligible curses at noone-knew-what, and throwing bottles off of the back of the tuk-tuk. Good Lord, was this the level of partier that attended such events? Perhaps Navid and I were in over our heads...
We arrive at the beach, get our bracelets and push our way into the already seething tumult of partying. The party covered the beach, extending about 200 meters down to a cliff with a huge bar perched on top. Along the beach were somewhere around 7-8 stages, each playing a variety of techno, hip hop, dub step, or anything else you could conceivably dance to. The beauty of having the party on the beach was that the DJs could blast their music as loud as possible without interfering with the music at a stage 10 meters to the left because it all blasted straight out into the emptiness of the night sea.
In addition to the stages, food stalls, and party lights lining the beach were these nice little establishments which I'll call "Bucket Stands". For those of you not familiar, "the bucket" is a world renowned drink comprising of; A) A can of soda. B) A can of redbull. and C) A pint of the liquor of your choice, all over ice and drank through a straw from, you guessed it, a big ol' bucket. I opted for the cheap Thai rum. You know, to experience the local culture.
Some of you may think that the pint of liquor would be the most dangerous ingredient in the bucket. But, you would be wrong. It is definitely the red bull. Within 30 minutes I'm deep in the fray, heart pounding, bouncing up and down, screaming sweet jubilation, and dancing like I've never danced before to the strange and wonderful sounds of music I'd never even heard in dreams (I think it was dub step).
A giant fire heaving up and down catches my eye and I need to investigate. As I draw near, I can see that a couple of hippies standing on platforms are swinging a huge (8 meters?), flaming rope in a giant, burning game of double dutch. The light from the fire illuminates the ring of spectators, all of whom are either screaming, hooting, or staring wide eyed, itching to dive in but afraid to move. I find my way to the front, look up at the rope and think, "Holy crap. I HAVE to do this!"
After a couple rounds the ground clears and I dash in. WHOOSH. The rope swings down and glides under my feet. WHOOSH. The rope swings around again and I'm surprised how naturally this is coming to me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air and I see this guy run in to join me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air again and I watch the rope of fire slap the back of this klutz's legs. BAM. I fall on the rope and bounce back up, recoiling from the heat. I assess the damage. My right arm no longer has any hair, but that's it. Then they bring out the ring of fire.
Other than the amazing fiery jump rope of death, Navid and I are able to participate in the headlong dive through "the fiery ring of fire", and the death-defying slide down the "slide that goes pretty close to some fire". It was AWESOME.
The countdown itself was actually the most fun I've ever had at a countdown. At the stroke of midnight, the beach exploded with cheering and music, complemented perfectly by the fireworks exploding overhead, reflecting beautifully on the waves crashing to the shore.
The rest of the night involved singing all of the classics by Green Day and Oasis (horribly out of tune), and dancing, dancing, dancing until the sun came up and it was time to catch our boat back home. We made it back to our hotel in time for breakfast and had enough time to catch 3 hours of shut-eye before our boat left for the mainland.
Before I dig into anything else, I need to finish up the Thailand story from last year (2010/2011), which has two stories worth being told.
 |
| Navid after being asked "Do you want to go to the Full Moon Party?" |
The first was the Full Moon/New Year's Eve countdown party, which was, hands down, the best party I have ever been to in the entirety of my life. Some of you may know I've been to a party or two, and this one takes the trophy, for sure.
 |
| Takin' a stroll around town |
Navid and I were staying on an island about an hour's boat ride from the party and, try as we might, couldn't book a hotel for the night. (It can be difficult to book a room on New Year's Eve the day of, apparently...) So from the start we knew it was going to be a long night, which was cool, because Navid and I have survived many a long night in the past. We met some cool English folks on the beach at our hotel and decided, "Hey, what the hell. We've got some new friends. Let's all go to the party."
 |
| Thai boats (not the ones we took) |
We get to the island and hop on the first tuk-tuk we see, and, as it's pulling away, a very, very drunk man, running and waving his hands wildly in the air, chases us down and hops on the back of the tuk-tuk. I knew from the first glance that this guy was bad news. He spends the ride to the beach drifting in and out of consciousness in between crazy stories about being awake and partying for 3 days on end by means of various drugs, shouting unintelligible curses at noone-knew-what, and throwing bottles off of the back of the tuk-tuk. Good Lord, was this the level of partier that attended such events? Perhaps Navid and I were in over our heads...
 |
| A cool roadside restaurant that, I'm pretty sure, gave me some food poisoning. Eh, it was really good. Totally worth it |
We arrive at the beach, get our bracelets and push our way into the already seething tumult of partying. The party covered the beach, extending about 200 meters down to a cliff with a huge bar perched on top. Along the beach were somewhere around 7-8 stages, each playing a variety of techno, hip hop, dub step, or anything else you could conceivably dance to. The beauty of having the party on the beach was that the DJs could blast their music as loud as possible without interfering with the music at a stage 10 meters to the left because it all blasted straight out into the emptiness of the night sea.
 |
| Geckos love Thailand! |
In addition to the stages, food stalls, and party lights lining the beach were these nice little establishments which I'll call "Bucket Stands". For those of you not familiar, "the bucket" is a world renowned drink comprising of; A) A can of soda. B) A can of redbull. and C) A pint of the liquor of your choice, all over ice and drank through a straw from, you guessed it, a big ol' bucket. I opted for the cheap Thai rum. You know, to experience the local culture.
Some of you may think that the pint of liquor would be the most dangerous ingredient in the bucket. But, you would be wrong. It is definitely the red bull. Within 30 minutes I'm deep in the fray, heart pounding, bouncing up and down, screaming sweet jubilation, and dancing like I've never danced before to the strange and wonderful sounds of music I'd never even heard in dreams (I think it was dub step).
A giant fire heaving up and down catches my eye and I need to investigate. As I draw near, I can see that a couple of hippies standing on platforms are swinging a huge (8 meters?), flaming rope in a giant, burning game of double dutch. The light from the fire illuminates the ring of spectators, all of whom are either screaming, hooting, or staring wide eyed, itching to dive in but afraid to move. I find my way to the front, look up at the rope and think, "Holy crap. I HAVE to do this!"
After a couple rounds the ground clears and I dash in. WHOOSH. The rope swings down and glides under my feet. WHOOSH. The rope swings around again and I'm surprised how naturally this is coming to me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air and I see this guy run in to join me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air again and I watch the rope of fire slap the back of this klutz's legs. BAM. I fall on the rope and bounce back up, recoiling from the heat. I assess the damage. My right arm no longer has any hair, but that's it. Then they bring out the ring of fire.
Other than the amazing fiery jump rope of death, Navid and I are able to participate in the headlong dive through "the fiery ring of fire", and the death-defying slide down the "slide that goes pretty close to some fire". It was AWESOME.
The countdown itself was actually the most fun I've ever had at a countdown. At the stroke of midnight, the beach exploded with cheering and music, complemented perfectly by the fireworks exploding overhead, reflecting beautifully on the waves crashing to the shore.
The rest of the night involved singing all of the classics by Green Day and Oasis (horribly out of tune), and dancing, dancing, dancing until the sun came up and it was time to catch our boat back home. We made it back to our hotel in time for breakfast and had enough time to catch 3 hours of shut-eye before our boat left for the mainland.
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