Day 3 (days will soon lose their numbers) and I missed breakfast , completely missed it. Didn’t even wake up until 11.
It could have been the familiar sound of rain falling that kept me asleep, or the lack of bird song.
15 minutes for the shower to run hot, I like the fact it’s not in a hurry, I like the fact that nothing is in a hurry.
Ham agrees to cook me breakfast at midday, I will have to pay as I have missed the official breakfast time, but at 60p for an omelette I think I can live with that.
I text Nute to say that perhaps today is not the best day for car viewing. Her Liverpudlian boyfriend calls me back. They have a power cut on the south of the island and Nute will collect me tomorrow, if that’s ok?
That’s fine.
Man child calls and asks if I would like dinner at Fisherman’s ( in his words ‘the best fish restaurant on the island’) tonight? sounds good.
Clothes to the laundry, walk to the shop for water, walk to the dive school for fins. (Perhaps cover 300 yards there and back) Nick, the possibly swedish, possibly german owner tells me they have none in my size. He phones his wife (Patsy) who is in Thong Sala and asks her to bring a pair back. They will be here tomorrow or the next day.
I tell him there is no hurry, it’s hardly snorkelling weather today.
I’m wrong says Nick, it’s very good snorkelling weather today, there is a clear patch to the right of the bay and the snorkelling has been superb this morning.
Go to the clothes shop and optimistically buy a pink bikini. The optimism having nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the size of the bikini. The girls in the shop, who giggle a lot, seem to find me a source of amusement and have already promised to cook for me, are lovely and tell me if it doesn’t fit I can change it. It doesn’t.
I do, change it that is, the next day for another that still barely fits and a pair of fisherman’s trousers.
An afternoon with the Angel of Grozny reminds me of how lucky I am, how lucky even Ham is, despite having to work long hours to provide for his family.
The rain stops mid afternoon but there is still cloud cover. I lie in the warm, feeling the pain of the Chechens through 2 wars and bitterly cold winters on the Russian steppes. The loss of family, the torture, the grief.
I call Man child; suddenly I need to know he is safe. He laughs gently. He is safe. Will I be able to make my own way to Fisherman’s?
Of course. I’m a grown up.
I check the internet to make sure that ‘She who must be obeyed’ is safe. There is a message. She is. She hopes that Thai Team are doing well, I reply and say we are and I hope the Europe Team are in good spirits.
Later Ham finds me a taxi and feeling quite proud of myself, not only for going out after dark, but for going on my own, I savour the ride over the hills, the sound of the bullfrogs, nosier than a herd of cows in a Somerset field, the swerving to miss the kamikaze dogs darting in front of the taxi, the lights on the sex strip, the smells of the food market in Thong Sala. I wave to Mahlee standing outside her caff and finally we arrive at Fisherman’s.
I see the sign, no, not Fisherman’s – DENTIST. Right opposite the restaurant. YES! I thought it would take me weeks and a good half dozen Thai lessons to find someone who could keep my teeth in order and here; karma, is the answer to my prayers.
It was without doubt the best Barracuda I have ever tasted and easily one of the best fish. The three sauces it came with were delicious and delicacy personified. The restaurant is owned by a Burmese family and is one of the busiest on the island, so popular that they are relocating to larger premises soon (Nute tells me this tomorrow). It is next to the sea and you can even sit at tables in a boat moored alongside. Man child and I have a good evening.
Tomorrow is hectic, by island standards. I cover myself in factor 30 – How come I got burnt yesterday? There was no sun. Leave key in reception so room can be cleaned, breakfast, rush to the shop to change bikini, call from Nick – my fins have arrived. Walk to dive school, meet Patsy, Nick’s wife, who comes from Liverpool. She tells me they spent 5 years in Egypt and have been on Phangan for 2, preferring the more leisurely pace of Thailand (and I suspect the currently more stable political situation). I tell her I am here for a while and she invites me to come back and spend time with her when I am less busy.
Call from Nute, she is coming to collect me to see car. Call from Man child, he is training and will come up after. No time to read. Half hour doing laps in the pool (I was right, I do have it all to myself), quick shower – well quick as shower will allow.
Man child arrives, he decided to skip training. Nute arrives in the prettiest white sun dress which now makes her look 12. Her beautiful pregnant daughter is with her and after the obligatory ‘polite’ introductions the four of us head to Ban Tai to check out cars. Nute and I in the front, Nie (her daughter) insisting, despite being pregnant and my protestations, that she sits in the back, and Man child following on his bike; I’ve stopped looking to check whether his helmet is on.
Nute is keen to improve her English pronunciation and asks me to help. By the time we get to Ban Tai, she can easily say ‘very’, no longer ‘velly’ and I am happily telling her that my friend is coming out in ‘Feblulally’ – not sure I’m winning here but there is much laughter.
Man child decides cars are ‘Peng’ (too expensive) and as I don’t really need one until ‘Feblulally’ when it is low season – we should renegotiate then. Everyone is happy with this and we drop down to the local beach to see how it compares to Haad Yao before heading back to Mahlee’s for dinner. I prefer Haad Yao.
Mahlee’s brother is still proudly holding his Man Hunt pen and a fresh, tattooed, Glastonbury, united nations contingency are already seated. One of them knows Man child so high fives follow.
I am not sure quite how much alcohol or how many drugs are consumed in this paradise but Mahlee fails to recognise Nute, despite berating me two days earlier for being unwilling to go in her van. She does confess to having drunk 4 beers before we arrived and, in all fairness, says Nute, Mahlee has only ever seen her in her work clothes, jeans and a shirt, until now.
Mahlee produces more fabulous food, vegetables and chicken with fluffy white rice, and Mark, Nute’s Liverpudlian boyfriend, arrives. My jury is still out on him. He talks non stop as if on speed and most of it is rubbish, I think she can do better and suspect that a couple of decades of drugs and alcohol have taken their toll. I watch this confident woman with her own successful business lower herself in status as her Farang gets noisier and more strident with every sip of beer. It is sad that Thai women are brought up to believe that catching a Farang is the way to a better life.
After dinner we go our separate ways. Nute and Nie take me home. Mark makes a big deal about pregnant Nei going in the back (perhaps he isn’t so bad, I do agree with him on that), Man child heads south and the tattooed, Glastonbury, united nations contingency take themselves off to the next all night party.
Nute suggests that we meet up next week and she, Nei and I go into town and have a ‘girlie’ morning. She will show me a good nail parlour and the best shops and will introduce me to the shopkeepers so I am not charged Farang prices. I offer to help her with the recycling in return.
” Your son will keel me” she laughs. “You teach me Eeenglish”.
I was serious.