Holiday - Day 2 & 3

I am beginning to settle in nicely in my little Guest House. Like every accommodation, it’s got its pros and cons. Let’s go through them quickly... Pros: 1) it’s central – less than 10 mins walk to the beach; 2) it’s rather cheap – less than 10 squid per night; 3) it offers free wifi. Cons: 1) it’s located in a dark back alley, populated by a few dodgy dogs and stray ladyboys (or the other way around, maybe?). In all honesty, its location makes Khaosan Road in Bangkok look like feckin Mayfair. Anyway the room is clean and spacious enough, it’s got almost virtually everything you need for a stay in Phuket, plus the Guest House owners are a friendly bunch so altogether I’m happy with my choice of accommodation.

Last night I visited one of my favourite restaurants in Patong (Chiang Rai, at the back of Soi Tiger) to get my Thai food fix. One tom yam kung, 4 big fried prawns and 2 Singhas later, all I was ready for was... the bed! I suppose that a mix of jet lag and sleep deprivation finally caught up with me as I made my sorry way to my room, yawning like a hippo just as everyone else in town was about to go out and have fun. There are some malicious rumours going round that I accepted the kind offer of a blanket and a cup of cocoa by the Guest House owners before retiring to my royal apartment but they are totally untrue.

One minor annoyance is the big number of touts plying their trade in the main streets of Patong. Besides the tuk-tuk mafia, one of my main gripes is with those guys that hold some sort of big lizard (or is it a small iguana??) in their hands, giving you the fantastic opportunity (NOT) of having your picture taken whilst holding such exotic creature. Now don’t get me wrong, I am no tree hugging vegan and I understand that everyone has to make a living... but I can’t help feeling very sorry for those poor blighters (the animals, that is, I’d shoot the touts). Those poor animals look absolutely petrified to me – in fact, surrounded by all those humans and all that noise, they almost definitely are.

Another nuisance is provided by the ubiquitous tailors. Again, they are there to make an honest living for themselves and their families... back in Nepal or Burma (none of them are Thais!!) but why, oh why, do they all have to shake your hand and ask you ‘where are you from boss?’..?? A few years ago I made the mistake of telling a few of them that I’m from Italy so their usual retort would be either a cheerful “Buongiorno, como stai amigo mio?” or a mood-darkening “Ciao Napolitano”. As 1) the mere option of being taken for a Neapolitan would spoil my entire day, and 2) I am a grumpy unsociable b@stard (by my own admission...) and don’t want to shake more hands than a diplomat at a UN conference, now I either cross the street to avoid them altogether or tell them that I’m from Estonia, which seems to shut them up. It’ll take them a while to find out how to say “Fancy a nice suit?” in Estonian.

Today I went to the beach and I’m pleased to report that it’s been a scorching day so far. Apart from a few clouds in the sky, the sun has been shining all day long and the temperature must have been in the early 30’s. I’d like to think that I learnt from previous mistakes so I only spent less than an hour in the sun - I’d rather spend the next few days under the parasol sipping a fresh coconut than in my room licking my badly sunburnt wounds.

Off for a nice shower soon and then I’m going to see an English-speaking pharmacist - my lower back / leg pain doesn’t seem to get any better and, after 2 weeks of unsuccessful treatment, it’s not funny anymore. Fingers crossed.