Warm Welcomes and Jelly Brains

Saturday 13th February 2010, 10am, Golden View Guest House - Koh Phi Phi

I'm on Koh Phi Phi. Internationally recognised paradise and King of Kings of beach utopias in Thailand, and well, the world over. Additionally, I'm writing this from a hammock, swinging in tree-strung greenery - it's proving difficult and my handwriting is barely legible, but hey, we all have our cross to bear.

Earlier on in the week whilst still surrounded by the mayhem of Bangkok, I discovered that this would be my wonderful Ella's next stop. If this wasn't reason enough to visit, my very charming and ridiculously handsome Swedish friend Daniel, whom I met in Sihanoukville at Christmas, messaged me to say he would be here, and why didn't I sort my life out and come to this idyllic island to see them both as soon as possible? Well. I'm easily persuaded, and on the scale of hard decisions I've had to make throughout my lifetime, this one featured at a pretty low deliberation level.

I arrived on the boat from Phuket yesterday afternoon to be greeted by these two much missed, unfairly photogenic faces. (Incidentally - Phuket: spent one day milling about waiting for my boat and concluded that yes, one day was quite enough. On the plus side, you'll love it if you're an ageing sex tourist with money to burn on women with gonorrhea). I'd instructed Daniel that I expected some sort of banner and fanfare welcome when I made my grand entrance on the pier, and I did get a banner of sorts. A piece of A5 paper, the back of an old receipt I think, scrawled lovingly by Ella on the back with the words 'Gracie Poo Face', stuck to Daniel's forehead with heat induced sweat. They had also bought me an ice lolly, which I promptly stuffed down my cleavage in an effort to stave off the 35 degrees heat. Well, I'm a sucker for a heartfelt gesture, and I fell in to Ella's arms like we'd been separated for 2 years, rather than 2 or so weeks.

They've been sussing out the lay of the land for the past few days while I've been city living with Mod, and yesterday afternoon they took me to the beach for sunset, fed me barbecued corn on the cob, and then instructed me to scrub up for a night on the tiles. The two angel faces are still sleeping off said night on said tiles whilst I write this. I'd like to say it's because I'm made of stronger stuff that I'm now awake and they're still deep in the land of nod, but I know that really it's because they've been practising for my arrival for the past couple of evenings by conducting a dedicated and comprehensive study of Phi Phi's bars. It's also probably because they're both at the grand old age of 25 whilst I am a sprightly 23, and that quarter of a century milestone will limit one's ability to hack the pace somewhat.

I'm writing this now as a premonitionary forewarning blog readers, knowing myself and my island living habits too well these days, I can tell you that being on the beach will do three things to me. These are as follows:

1. I will get lazier, quickly, and will imagine that simple tasks such as collecting my sarong because I left it in the bungalow/finding my camera in my bag/going all the way to the bar to order my next drink, are heinously difficult, near on impossible challenges which the universe burdens me with because of it's loathing of my efforts to relax.
2. I will get brown. Very, very, very brown. Thanks go to Ray Gillman, Father and benefactor of impossibly and inexplicably olive skin tone for one so thoroughly East London bred.
3. The one that may affect your reading pleasure over the next week... I get stupider. That's right, "stupider". There's no better word for it, real or invented.

There's something about white sand, aquamarine sea and Shepherd's Delight pink candy sunsets that completely addles my brain. I go numb, I lose clarity, forming cohesive sentences becomes a struggle. Last night I nearly had a row with a street vendor who had the audacity to try and sell me four 40Baht beers for 160Baht. I was convinced it should have totalled 120Baht! Ella had to step in. So accept my apologies now, next blog from this absolutely incredible island heaven may very well read: beach nice, (grunt), well hot, errr...cocktail?