Steve had trained in Thailand's national sport, Muay Thai, for three years back in England so he was excited to see his first match, and myself, Chrissy, and Diana joined him for a night out on Koh Phangan.

The ride there was about 30 minutes, with the first half spent twisting, turning, and bumping around on the dirt roads in the back of the modified pick-up.

The "stadium" felt more like someone's backyard. There was a small bar, a few bleachers, and tables/chairs around the ring for those who paid extra.

I was glad to attend the fights with Steve because he was able to appreciate some of the technique and answer questions.

The format was similar to what we'd have seen anywhere else.

The whole event lasted about three hours and started out with tiny little kids fighting.

We'd heard about this so it wasn't a surprise, yet it was mildly disturbing. In this case, the tots were girls.

At first it was novel to have the small kids fighting intermittently as the night progressed, however, it then seemed to become more of a filler between bouts with increasingly older guys.

In fact, the two best fights of the night, which came at the end (of course), resulted in KO's within the first round.

Before one of the fights started, I picked a guy in red trunks to win. He was short, tan, with well-defined muscles, and a good game face.

His opponent was a beanpole by comparison, and while taller, seemed to lack muscle mass and any sense that he was going to come out of it a winner.

Earlier in the evening, the audience was almost all tourists, however as the fighters got older, more Thais filtered in to give the experience a better sense of authenticity.

Steve was disappointed that his first fights in Thailand were not so fantastic, and resolved to watch some matches at Lumbini, the big stadium in Bangkok.

When it was all over, we rumbled our way back to Thong Nai Pan Noi for late-night cheeseburgers.

I was looking forward to the next night's entertainment, the biweekly Half Moon Party.

Paradise does have it's challenges, such as finding/keeping a bungalow you're satisfied with for more than 2 nights.

Night 1 - Shared bungalow with Steve in middle of beach

Night 2 - We got our own bungalows at the resort with The Beach Club restaurant where we first had dinner. I was in #5, though I had been told I'd have to move the next day due to a previous reservation for that one (from which you could see the water from the porch's hemp hammock).

Night 3 - #35, though electricity failed (spent the night with no fan because I couldn't be bothered to move so late)

Night 4- #34, the bungalow next door which I used after the previous one's power failure

Nights ⅚ - #27, a bungalow a little farther away from the stereo alarm in the form of radial saws (working on a yet-to-be opened resort of luxury villas...literally a few feet away)

Nights ⅞ - #5, persistence paid off and when this baby opened up again, after initially declining, I moved one last time to get get that swinging on a porch's hemp hammock views of the water

Meanwhile, Nienke (Holland) had become ill just the day after we met her. I let them my digital thermometer which confirmed a fever. She'd be in bed for the next few days. Later in the week, her friend Elizabeth seemed to come down with a similar illness. And as I write, I'm convinced I'm suffering the consequences of it too.

Steve kept vacillating on what he wanted to do...where he wanted to go...how long he could handle power saws waking him in the mornings. I didn't mind them too much. I considered it a small price to pay for such a beautiful, secluded beach. With the 44 luxury villas set to come on line by year's end, the beach accommodations were clearly heading upscale. Hopefully I'd be able to return there someday without breaking the bank.

After a nice 30-minute massage at a local place, I struck up a conversation with an expat who just happened to be the co-owner, along with his Thai wife.  In hopes of getting off the tourist trail, and seeking a bit of adventure, I took the opportunity to ask him for an island recommendation. They had recently vacationed on an island called Koh Phayam near the Thai-Burmese border. I filed this information away, already sure I'd be making the effort to visit when the time came to go on a visa run (a quick exit from Thailand to gain another 30 days in the country).

It was on Thong Nai Pan Noi that I concluded my personal paradises are qualified by one shared characteristic: they are island beaches, specifically tropical islands (sorry Ireland).  There must be time spent amidst a blue sky with wispy (or puffy) white clouds, varying shades of turquoise water, fine white sand, and a background of green palm trees and jungle.

I've come to this conclusion after extensive research - Hawaii, Belize, French Polynesia, Indonesia, and now Thailand.

An Australian couple, Steve, and I shared a pick-up ride to Thong Nai Pan Noi, a quieter beach on Kho Phangan's northeast coast. The concrete road gave way to rutted dirt half way there.  The interior of the island was thick with jungle cover.  As we approached our destination, I was surprised and excited by just low little development was present for a beach long known to be one of the most beautiful on the island.

Steve and I trudged across the sand under the intense mid-afternoon sun in search of affordable bungalows. For those few minutes, sweat pouring off of us, it felt like we were walking across a desert. It was too early to comprehend and appreciate the beauty of our new environment. We ended up sharing a room for the first night. It was nice to have a roommate again, even for just one night.

Once settled, I bought a sarong for hanging out on the beach, started reading Nasty Bits, and naming the friendly beach dogs.

The atmosphere of the small beach reminded me of the vibe on Gili Trawangan. Excited by the opportunities a new place always presents, I took the lead on our walk down the beach in search of dinner companions. The Beach Club looked like the most popular place, and I didn't hesitate to find out if Steve and I could join two girls sitting at a table on the sand. Initially, they indicated we could have their table as they were about to leave, however we were then invited to sit with them.

Nienke and Elizabeth were from Holland, and Steve and I got to know them as we dined on delicious whole white snappers. A large group lit lanterns all at once on the beach, and I finally had my camera with me to get some shots. These were the first I'd seen with fireworks attached to the bottom. They looked like little rockets as they shot up faster than normal.

Around 10:30pm, the girls departed, and Steve indicated he was ready for bed. I, on the other hand, was happy to be sipping a second screwdriver after a few earlier Singhas. Once Steve left, I sat for a moment, and then introduced myself to two German girls who were laying on the restaurant's beach mats a little closer to the water.

Chrissy and Diana were from Frankfurt. I spoke with Chrissy for the most part (it took me far too many days to realize that it was only because Diana didn't speak much English). As we chatted, a group of guys dropped their shorts and went skinny dipping nearby. Thankfully, I could only see a bunch of white asses running into the water. The girls were going to stop by the Jungle Bar in "town" for the weekly sunrise party. When they left to freshen up at their bungalow, I lay back on the mat, eyes peering into the black sky above, for a few minutes to reflect on the present moment.

As I headed to the Jungle Bar, I passed the girls' bungalow and we walked over together (it was all of a 2-minute walk). Chrissy found a 500 Baht ($15) note at the door, and offered to buy the first round. The bar was full with people talking, drinking, and dancing under the black lights. The music was decidedly pop and rock, but I went with the flow. I even spotted a few ladyboys who I thought could help me win an outstanding $50 dare.

I bought a round as well, and we retired around 2am. During my walk back along the dark, desolate beach, I thought if there was ever a beach that called out for skinny dipping, this was the one.

Needless to say, Steve and I took it easy following the Full Moon Party.  I shared my intention to visit a quieter beach on the northeast coast of Kho Phangan called Thang Nai Pan Noi.  I'd been unsure of whether he'd want to join me, but to my surprise, he was already up for escaping the party scene.

The beach was littered with beer bottles and trash, yet a small contingent of dedicated sunbathers lay out amongst it all in the afternoon.  I knew the community would ensure the beach would be cleaned up in due time, however there was clearly no rush (unlike Time Square after New Year's Eve).

I exchanged Anthony Kiedis' autobiography, Scar Tissue, for Anthony Bourdain's Nasty Bits, a collection of previously published material about food and travel.

We watched more of The Family Guy, dined on giant butterflied and barbecued Tiger prawns, and called it an early night.

Steve arrived just in time to join me for the July 2008 Full Moon Party on Kho Phagnan's Haad Rin Beach.

I was beyond happy to spot him slugging his way through the sand at 5pm after an overnight bus ride from Bangkok.

I greeted him with good news too. I had paid for a bungalow that had opened up that morning so he'd have his own place.

As he settled into his new pad, I used the time to try and freshen up.

Having awoken at noon, I was still trying to shake off my hangover from the prior night, concerned I had peaked too soon with the partying.

No one told me every night is party night on Haad Rin, and it's a hard place to exercise restraint.

We met at the Mountain Bar for a beer. I was humored by the culture shock Steve was in the midst of experiencing.

Unlike me, he barely spent a day in Bangkok before heading straight to party island Kho Phangan.

Where were the cows? It's so clean! Why are the women all barely dressed!? I could relate to it all.

Food vendors set up stalls along the beach's perimeter in anticipation of the hungry, drunken hordes.

The bucket (liquor) vendors lit up and music began to boom from a few of the clubs.

Workers were still erecting the dance platform in front of Tommy Resort.

Following our stomachs, we went down to the beach and found ourselves ducking into The Cactus Bar when it started to rain.

Beneath the black lights, people were applying fluorescent paints on one and other.

Steve found it hilarious that a guy was painting abs on another guy.

He couldn't get over the vanity involved in such an act! I, on the other hand, was contemplating flames on my freshly shaven head.

Once the rain let up, we headed up the street in search of dinner. I had written off The Family Guy years ago after it first came out, however Steve was a fan so we ate in that restaurant.

After less than an episode, I was a convert. I vastly underestimated the mature (in a sophomoric kind of way) humor of the show.

We drank delicious coconut shakes, entranced by the cartoon, as party people continued to stream toward the beach on the street behind us.

Despite the continued rain, we left the shelter of the restaurant behind and braved the beach.

It was crowded...much more crowded than the prior night. Ferries were adrift offshore while people were being dropped off by the speedboat load.

The serene beach I arrived at by day had become the epicenter of Thailand's biggest party of the month.

Large lightning bolts flashed across the sky over the water, and judging by the masses, most people were unaffected by the rain. It was a bit chilly, however Steve and I were all too happy to take in the sights of a platform filled with dancing girls.

One in particular, clearly in search of attention (she was wearing quite a bathing suit), climbed to a very small, higher (say 15-foot) section.

There was just enough room for her, and she didn't last long before losing her balance and toppling over.

We stood there in the rain, aghast at this woman's violent fall from grace. Images of compound fractures filled my mind, while Steve figured someone should be told.

We turned around after a minute or two to see the girl (seemingly OK) by the road.

We moved on...somewhere. At this point, it may have been a pit stop back at the bungalows followed by another drink at The Mountain Bar.

Back on the beach, we ran into a couple Steve met in Nepal or India.

We joined forces and danced to some house music at the south end of the beach.

By now, the rain was again pouring. It was 1 or 2 am, and it felt great.

As usual, guys were using the shoreline as their personal urinals, though in a new twist on previous nights, women could be seen doing the same.

The gross truth is that by the time people are using the water as a toilet, people are also swimming and playing around in all too close a proximity.

Around 3 am, Steve was all but ready to head back to his bungalow for sleep.

We parted ways and I went back to the house music on the south end of the beach. I ended up dancing with an Irish girl in front of a big stack of speakers for an hour or so.

Despite the blaring music, we were able to talk a bit.

Meanwhile, Steve was witnessing a couple having sex on the beach, and an English guy beating up 3 other guys by making use of some Muay Thai boxing techniques.

As the Irish girl had to remain stationary so her friend could find her, and they could depart the island by boat at 7 am, I ventured up the beach to find a spot to watch the sunrise.

I rolled up to the drum 'n bass area and the music was booming. I loved the feeling that the music's energy could drive me into the gulf. 

It was exactly how I wanted to feel at a dance club when I arrived in Bangkok. 

I grabbed a seat and peered out over the water, occasionally taking in the sights of drunk people passed out (often face down) in the sand, and people going for swims.

I started talking to a Dutch girl who was much more lively at this early hour than her friend who was clearly in need of sleep.

The sun rose over the horizon, lighting up the hundreds, if not thousands of people, still dancing and mingling on the beach.

Sometime around 7 am, I waded through the water, took a quick shower, and amazingly drifted off to sleep despite the still-blaring trance music which always seemed to overpower all other noise.

Earlier in the week, I realized that if the party was begun by a bunch of drug-friendly ravers/backpackers/hippies back in the 90's, then its popularity combined with stricter Thai drug policy has long since morphed it into an alcohol-fueled Spring Break for an international contingent of 18-25-year-olds. That said, I found the overall vibe friendliest on Full Moon night.

Maybe it was all the compliments I received for those fluorescent flames on my head. 

The weather continued to be absolutely gorgeous. The day before the big event was the last day of a beach soccer tournament that I watched very little of.

Instead, I opted to use my time more wisely, such as getting a foot massage. As you can see in the above photo, I had some company. The little guy jumped on my lap and made himself comfortable the whole time. When it came time for me to leave, I lateraled him to the girl next to me so he could continue to live the life of luxury as a spa dog.

As sundown arrived, the club/bar/bucket vendor lights turned on. Trance began to boom from the Zoom club like clockwork. I ran into Maura and Laura on the beach and hung out with them for a bit at the Drop In bar. They had befriended a spunky Thai woman from Chiang Mai, a former sex worker, who was here on vacation. She was bisexual and a pretty blonde Swedish girl we had all just met started making out with her in front of me. The funny thing is I think she asked permission from a guy (possibly a boyfriend) also standing nearby.

The music at Drop In sucked. Remixes of modern pop hits is not for me, so I left Maura and Laura, and stumbled all over, dancing to trance and drum and bass. Every now and then, the sky would light up with fireworks and traditional Thai lanterns.

A girl stopped me at one point, wanting to paint a heart on my forehead. I allowed it, but then visions of embarrassing artwork entered my mind (like a lot of what I saw painted on guys' backs). I approached a guy to find out what was there, and he looked mortified, so I didn't get answer from him. I assumed the worst and used some tissue to wipe the paint.

I stopped back at my bungalow to fully wash it off.

I don't know how I managed to stay awake, but I had a cheeseburger at 5am while watching Friends. I returned to my bungalow at sunrise to get my camera and snap a few photos. If I was spending a week on "Sunrise Beach" I couldn't justify leaving without at least one shot of the sun coming up.

All in all, not a bad way to warm up for one last night of partying (at least on this beach)!

July's Full Moon Party was scheduled two days after the true full moon due do a Buddhist holiday. It wasn't until sunset, when I was enjoying my first beer of the day at The Mountain Bar, that I learned there would be no music on Haad Rin's beach that night.

Earlier, I grabbed a tasty lunch of panang curry with chicken and rice at a restaurant overlooking the beach. Every day, more and more people were arriving in hedonistic anticipation of the legendary party.

Being a vampire, I spent little of my afternoons in direct sunlight. The heat gave me the perfect excuse to spend too much money at internet cafes which were air-conditioned. As a blogger, I continue to appreciate the Thai's investment in large, quality monitors for their patrons.

A WiFi card I had bought for use with my laptop became worthless after a power surge shot electric sparks from my AC adapter. At least this second time it has broken, I know the problem and am in a country where I should be able to get a replacement. Unfortunately, I don't expect to be back in Bangkok for another 4-5 weeks, so the laptop has become 1kg of dead weight (like my whole time in Nepal).

I made good use of the rare quiet night on Haad Rin by getting a front row seat for a screening of The Beach at dinner. Ideally, I wanted to wait until I was on Ko Phi Phi, but then again, I read the book in Kathmandu of all places.

By the conclusion of my second night, it was clear I was turning into a vampire. I would emerge from my bungalow later and later each day. After riggling around in bed for a bit, I'd open the door and lounge on my porch for awhile longer before getting up the energy to either go for a swim or find a cool place for lunch.

My sense of loneliness which had dogged me the first two weeks in Thailand faded away after meeting a bunch of people the first night, and Warren the second. All along, I'd kept in contact with Steve who was counting down the days until he too departed India for Thailand. I continued to entice him to the Full Moon Party by relaying my nightly tales of intoxicated adventure.

My theory is why mess with success so I grabbed a beer at the Mountain Bar for sunset. After a few minutes of admiring the view, or reading, maybe both, I joined a few girls nearby. Maura and Laura were Irish, giving me the opportunity to relay my love of their country (at least what I remember from a 2-week tour there 10 years ago).

After talking for awhile, they posed for a photo so I could earn another $10, and we headed down to the beach. It was their first night, so we took in the usual sights of fire jump rope at the Drop In bar, and well, who knows what else.  I'd dispensed with taking the camera below the Mountain Bar.  It was getting in the way when I was dancing like a fool in the sand.

My first full day on Haad Rin was spent recovering from my first night. I poked around town, tested out some WiFi options in a pizza place and ice cream shop, and basically did nothing. As the afternoon rolled on, the beach filled up with people, though it was by no means crowded.

Around sunset, I descended upon the Mellow Mountain Bar for a Singha. I saw a guy who seemed to be on his own, and ventured to strike up a conversation. Warren was an engineering student and part time DJ from Cape Town, South Africa. He was feeling a bit down and out, I think, as his girlfriend with whom he'd been traveling in Thailand had already headed home.

We continued to talk over a second beer, and headed down to the beach at nightfall. Since he was only on the island for one night, he wanted to have fun. I was dying to puff some flavored tobacco from a hookah, so we set up camp and watched some fire dancers as more and more people filtered onto the beach.

As Warren didn't want to get a room for just one night, I offered him my porch, which he used for a few hours sleep before catching the first ferry off the island, the start of a long journey back to Cape Town.

A few months ago, I was all but sure I'd make it to South Africa, however as my money wanes, so too does my belief that I'll make it there. My current thinking is when it comes time to leave Southeast Asia, head for The Middle East - Dubai, or Cairo, depending on airfare.

If by some chance I do make it to Cape Town though, besides cage diving with Great White sharks, I have a new friend who offered to help show me around!

After settling into my mellow mountain bungalow, I stopped in at the Mountain Bar below for a Singha (Thai beer) around sunset. In an effort to start meeting people before the big party, I joined Molly and Sarah, two Australian girls from Perth. After talking for an hour or so, we split off and I grabbed dinner at a restaurant in town which was screening Green Street Hooligans.

Almost every restaurant in Haad Rin has at least one big LCD television with surround sound, and they screen movies from early afternoon through the evening. Usual suspects (during my visit) included Anchorman, The Beach, Transformers, and Indiana Jones 4. Meanwhile, other restaurants' entertainment subsists solely on endless reruns of Friends, The Family Guy, and The Simpsons. But you'll never see The Family Guy screened in a restaurant known for playing Friends (or vice versa).

After dinner, I followed the increasingly loud music to the Drop In bar on the south end of the beach. I watched guys and girls jump a burning rope. Plenty of people would fall over or get hit by the fiery rope, yet aside from a quick dance, dip or duck to get away from the heat, they all seemed no worse for the wear.

The fire jump rope soon gave way to a fire hoop which people began to dive through. Every now and then, someone would trip up, fall, and scatter away from the blazing ring. The Thai guys managing these activities were always quick to react to such inevitabilities. After 8 months of traveling, I felt no need to take part in these tribal games. I was in good company as there were far more spectators than participants.

More than the tourist-driven stunts, I enjoyed the amazingly skillful shows put on by the fire dancers (twirlers, artists, or whatever they're called). I was usually sitting close enough to wonder what horrific scene would unfold if a fiery staff were to suddenly slip from sweaty hands and spear me in the chest. I admired them all the more for allowing me to experience their skills without such an outcome.

The Cactus Bar had the only fire high jump on the beach. Whoever could jump the highest without knocking down the pole would win a beer. Near the top setting, the pole was at least as high as my neck, maybe 4.5-5 feet off the sand. At that point, only the guys who could do a proper forward dive and roll were able to compete. As I watched the spectacle unfold, with as usual, the plenty of guys tripping up on the flames, I wondered how it was that people didn't break their necks more often, seeing as how they're hurdling their drunken bodies head first over the flames.

I met a few Israelis and an Irish guy on the beach, finally retiring around 2am. The psy-trance music from the Zoom bar was booming until sunrise at 6am, as I soon came to learn, it would every night.

After a week on Koh Samui's busy and beautiful Chaweng Beach, I checked out of The Sands Resort bungalow, got picked up in an air-conditioned van, and transferred to the pier.

We had a 20-30 minute wait, then walked the warped wooden planks to the awaiting ferry from Koh Samui to Koh Phangan.

The surroundings were gorgeous - sparkling waters and lush green hills.

We set off. A boat full of the young and attractive - barely a family, kid, or older person from Koh Samui.

Petite women had rolling suitcases heavier than themselves.

The wind felt great as we cruised the 50 minutes to Koh Phangan.

Unlike my ferry to Koh Samui, we arrived directly at the main pier on Sunset Beach, which is a few minutes' walk from Sunrise Beach, where the monthly Full Moon Parties are held.

I asked a couple of guys walking on the street for a hotel suggestion.

They were sleeping at Mellow Mountain Bungalows at the far north end of the beach.

Along the way there, I sweltered on the beach, stopping at various resorts - all too costly, though a $30/night place tempted me.

I ended up taking the mountain bungalow because it had a porch view of the beach.

It is probably not the best view as there are some trees in the way, but it offered some privacy in exchange.

I dedicated my first full day on Kho Samui to exploring Chaweng, writing, and reading " Do Travel Writers Go To Hell"? by Thomas Kohnstamm, a book I came across in Bangkok. Published earlier in the year, it chronicles the experiences of a first-time writer for Lonely Planet on assignment in Brazil.

The beach was perfect, soft white sand, multi-colored water with light green in the shallows, and turquoise fading into darker shades of blue near the sections of reef. It was far cleaner than what I saw on Kuta, Bali, and the Thai people in town were much more laid back in regard to trying to sell tourists on tailored suits and taxi rides.

In the early evening, I went for a sunset walk minus the sun (which sets on the opposite end of the island), drank a Singha (Thai beer), and read some more while comfortably lounging on one of the free beach chairs. It felt like I was in a Corona commercial. I then followed the electronic music to Ark's for dinner on the beach. I had a delicious tuna steak with baked potato and salad.

Wanting to save the end of my book for another day, I joined a few Dutch girls at an adjacent table. They were spending a month in Thailand, and like me (and thousands more), headed to Kho Phagnan for the July 19^th Full Moon Party. We talked over a few drinks, and as it got dark, more and more kids came around selling Styrofoam and flower leis, games of Connect Four, and various other novelty items.

Lanterns began to drift into the sky in the distance, and I was all about lighting one (having first seen them in " The Beach"?). I wrote all three of our names on it, along with a flower, butterfly, and peace symbol, made a wish, and lit it up. Fireworks were shot off intermittently, adding to the wonderful all-around vibe and experience. The girls were staying at a different beach, and interested to check out one of the big dance clubs so we fought our way through the gauntlet of Thai prostitutes to The Green Mango, which filled up around 1am. After a bit of dancing, and a late night stop at McDonald's, we called it a night.

I took an overnight, double-decker bus filled with backpackers from Bangkok to Surat Thani.

The bus-ferry combination was $14, half the cost of the train-ferry option, and more readily available, so I went with it.

I got a few hours of sleep during the ride. I found the provided blankets necessary given the air-conditioning, which was kept cranked up the whole way.

I was sitting next to a nice Australian woman who was previously mistaken for a ladyboy by a drunk old white guy while waiting to be shown to the bus from Khao San road.

I witnessed the awkward exchange and felt bad for her.

Around 6 am, eleven hours after we began our journey, the bus dumped us off at a small outdoor cafe.

The cafe was a staging ground for people to be shuttled to various connections depending on their ultimate island destination.

After watching someone ride off on the back of a scooter, and a gaggle of people headed for Phuket pack into a pick-up, a giant luxury bus pulled up for those of us headed to Koh Samui.

I grabbed a seat in the lower-level lounge, which was fit for a rock star.

What I expected to be a short ride turned into another hour of driving. Along the way, we filled up the bus with more of the Koh Samui bound.

The bus pulled right onto the pier, so it was only a few steps to the waiting ferry. Another one and a half hours later, the ferry stopped at Koh Samui.

Next, it was into the back of one of the modified pick-ups with the bench seating. These cool contraptions are the cheapest way to shuttle yourself around on the islands.

Air-conditioned taxis are too costly, and I have no intention of learning how to ride a scooter after seeing the walking wounded upon arrival in Bangkok.

I hopped off at Chaweng Beach, the busiest area on the island.

I found a bungalow along one of the beach access roads, dropped off my stuff in the room, and before checking in, walked out to the water for my first view of a Thai beach.

It was truly picture-perfect.

I figured to be a day or two from leaving the big city for weeks of island-hopping in the south, so I took advantage of the weekend by visiting the Chatuchack Market via the modern, elevated Skytrain. As was increasingly apparent, the Thais love their air-conditioning cold.

The market was massive, selling everything from sharks to furniture. I walked around for an hour, mostly in search of a scorpion on a stick so as to satisfy another dare, and my ego. I found a few street carts selling bugs, crickets or grasshoppers, worms, big roaches, and most disturbingly, little birds. Sober, and without peer pressure and a potential monetary payoff, I couldn't bring myself to try such treats.

Seeing piles of the critters up close under the hot sun did not make the idea of eating a large, crunchy scorpion any more appealing. It did make me realize if I do find scorpions, I won't be able to eat them without a few beers in me, and even then there's a good chance I'll have a hell of a time choking it down.

The heat wore on me and I decided to check out one of Bangkok's malls. Siam Paragon was along my return Skytrain route so I hopped off and admired the majestic exterior. The lobby, with it's multi-storey waterfalls, glass elevators, and foliage was quite a site. Further inside, luxury retail shops far out of the price ranges of most mere mortals, lined the halls.

I went to the top level, hoping Indiana Jones was still playing. I had missed it, but Steve Carrell is a favorite of mine and I opted for " Get Smart."? Did I mention the lobby of the movie theater was really cool? The ticket cost $19, which was a bit shocking, but I went with it. The saleswoman told me to pick my seat from a display of the theater layout on a flat computer monitor. I asked her which one was good, and she confidently replied " all of them."?

Ticket in hand, I walked toward the metal detector which guarded the entrance to the theaters. The usher pointed me further down though, to a separate entrance, minus a metal detector. I started to walk toward the #2 theater when a woman ushered me over to a dimly lit lounge.

The theater wasn't opening for another ten minutes however I was free to order a cocktail. " When in Rome,"? I thought, and asked for a gin and tonic. Several other people were enjoying the supplied massage chairs in the area. A few sips after the drink had arrived, I paid and was walked to my seat in the theater.

I hadn't realized it at the time, but " Get Smart"? was playing in one of four luxury Nokia theaters, thus the special treatment. The theater and screen were as big as many in the USA, yet instead of watching amidst a sea of people, it felt like I was in the private theater of a football star on an episode of MTV's " Cribs."?

I settled into my leather seat, tapping the electronic reclining control until I was nearly horizontal. It was ultra-quiet so adjustments during the movie were a non-issue. I sipped my drink, covered myself in the supplied blanket, and rested my head on the pillow. The movie itself was cute, and I needed the good laughs it supplied. I knew the bathroom would be worth a look, so I snuck out when needed and sure enough, it was a bathroom fit for us VIP's who need a drink before our movie and can be trusted not to carry weaponry to the mall.

#9 - From Dan:

Looks like you're running low on dares. Now that you're in China I dare you to ride a scooter (as a passenger or driver) down a ridiculously crowded street. Just like in the pictures.

Seems to me you could do this in either China or India, but you can do it where ever you have time/motivation.

Provide photographic evidence and your compensation will be $25 plus rental fee if you have to rent to complete your task. I'll up the winnings if the street is REALLY crowded.

Reward: $25+

Status: Completed

After a few days in Bangkok without meeting anyone, I was starting to feel like my bang-up start was more like a bust.

I was feeling lonely.Invariably, I've found this happens when I have the highest expectations for socializing.

Then, when I'm asleep at the wheel, I end up meeting and hanging out with cool people.

To entertain myself, and hopefully earn a few bucks, I took on Dan's dare.

My friend Charlie in Chengdu had a motorcycle, but it was broken at the time I was staying with him.

After a mentally traumatic mini-scooter accident when I was a kid at day camp, I lost any desire to ride motorized bikes.

I prefer to be encased in metal, especially after seeing the way people drive in India.

Motorcycle taxis are commonplace in Thailand, so I hired one for a loop around Democracy Monument near Khao San.

It took a little translation support to ensure the driver knew what I wanted, and he delivered in great fashion.

Surely agreeing to what was likely a generous overpayment didn't hurt.

Unlike paragliding, taking photos and video on the back of a bike was a breeze.

I'm sure it would've been a dirtier, dustier, bumpier affair in India or Nepal, but there was plenty of traffic which we weaved in and out of at red lights.

It turned out to be a memorable experience which helped to lift my mood.

Bonus Video

I knew Buddha burnout was an occupational risk of delving into the world of Buddhist culture as early as Hong Kong, yet Wat Pho (wat=temple-monastery) held the 46-meter reclining Buddha I think was featured in and early scene from " The Beach,"? or at least a photo from the back sleeve of the movie soundtrack's CD which I'd been using to motivate me for years and carrying around with me for the last 7 months. 

Soon after deciding to save for a trip around the world, I taped it up in my apartment where I could see it every day.  Besides the track listing, there was a photo of the three main characters right before they swim to the secret island, and the giant golden reclining Buddha with Mr. DiCaprio leaning against the legs.  Whether or not it was the same Buddha didn't matter to me at that point.  I felt like taking my CD insert there was a final vindication of my master plan.  I did it, and still had many more months to keep living the dream. 

PS - I'm still carrying around that insert.  Makes for a nice bookmark!

On my second day in Bangkok, I took my first Thai tuk-tuk ride to the starting point of a walking tour suggested in my guidebook as the one I did in Kathmandu turned out to be a pleasant surprise. My first stop was the white-walled Grand Palace and Emerald Buddha Temple.

Before I reached the main gate, a guy who appeared to be guarding a non-tourist entrance struck up a conversation with me. He seemed friendly, indicating the sight was closed for a few hours due to a ceremony for a relative of the king who had died earlier in the year. I can't recall if he tried to sell me on transport or an alternative at that point, but I headed onward toward the main gate where a sign clearly warned tourists not to trust " wily strangers."? And of course my guidebook was plastered with warnings (as usual) not to trust people who say a hotel, sight, temple or whatever is closed or under repair. The Thai scam is to sell you on some alternate, short-term form of sightseeing whereby the guy will earn a commission, thus allowing you to return to your original sight of interest later. Later, I'd find out it was just a small section inside which was closed to tourists.

Once inside the complex, I was blown away by the beautiful Thai architecture. I'd seen a glimpse of the unique style in Bodhgaya, and it was in full effect around the Palace and Temple. The facades of the buildings and statues were covered in small colored tiles, many of them mirrored. They formed massive mosaics which sparkled and shined in the sunlight. When people ask me if I miss home or whether it is hard to travel for such a long time all at once, I tend to reflect on moments like these and always respond " nope!"?

The Emerald Buddha is actually made of jade, and the little guy sits atop a stunningly ornate golden altar. No photography is allowed inside the temple, however visitors did have room to sit on the floor and admire the interior decorations.

Back outside, everyone was taking photos like mad. I can't recall the last time I was at a site and saw so many tour groups. I relished my independence. I rarely remember the facts thrown out by guides. Usually, I'd rather simply remember the sense of amazement I feel when seeing a special sight for the first time.

What a difference a 4.5 hour flight can make in one's travel experience.  On my taxi ride to the Delhi airport, the driver had the gall to try and sell me on a trip to a rug shop even as I was clearly leaving the country.  I shut him down immediately,  I could be good-humored about it, seeing as how I was literally leaving the country in a few hours. 

The service on the THAI flight was awesome, the airport was efficient (if not practically empty), and the express bus one of the nicest I'd ever ridden.  Seeing a skyline filled with high rise office buildings, multi-lane highways packed with cars, and not a bicycle rickshaw or wayward cow in sight made me realize how I'd adopted life in India as my personal reality.  Not that I ever fully managed to accept cows eating trash in the streets as routine.

My first day in Bangkok was dedicated to doing nothing.  The luxury of a full vacation day dedicated to nothing right from the start of entering a new country will be unique to this trip.  In the future, I imagine typical 1-2 week American holidays will require compressed schedules necessitating a running start to intercontinental travel.  In the here and now, I purposefully chill out on my first day in a new country.  It has served me well so far, and I relish the observations made on my first day in Thailand.

7-11's are everywhere, stocking the desirable (and trendy) travel size toiletries, snacks, ice cream, and so on.  In Bangkok, they are also the temperature of blast freezers, creating welcome respites from the 90-degree heat.  Restaurants and bars, at least around Khao San, have walls draped with large plasma televisions.  I duck into one as a rain shower has the t-shirt vendors covering their merchandise with plastic tarps.  I watch the parade of tourists, travelers, backpackers, and Thais walk by.  I haven't seen so many white people in one place since Australia back in January.  And after 7 weeks in India, where female tourists are almost always wearing full length skirts or pants, I couldn't help but take notice of all the girls wearing as little clothes as possible. 

The plane set down early at the brand new Suvarnabhumi Airport, 30km east of the capital city. Walking through the cavernous, empty halls on my way to immigration, it was easy to tell the country was on top of their game with regard to meeting present and future transportation needs.

Because everyone and their mother seemed to have been to Thailand before me, I expected the infrastructure for tourists, travelers, backpackers, and desperate old men would make life infinitely easier than my past few months. The THAI flight, the new airport, and the luxurious express bus to Bangkok helped confirm that elementary hunch.

In the early evening, as traffic turned a 35-minute sprint into a 2-hour marathon bus ride (but a comfortable, air-conditioned one), light rain began to fall. I'd left the monsoon weather of India for the monsoon weather of Southeast Asia, however a few hours or days of rain at a time was a small deterrent to spending weeks at a time on the legendary, tropical islands of Thailand.

Practically the entire bus of backpackers disembarked at Th Khao San Road stop. The street I saw did not strike me as the epicenter of backpacking in SE Asia, if not the world. I ducked into a travel agency to help get my bearings. A few paces past the agency, a right turn around a corner, and I was at the western end of Khao San. The road was closed to automotive traffic save for a few taxis and tuk-tuks, which was good because a lot of people would get run over otherwise.

I began to walk through the gauntlet of cheap souvenir stalls, mini-bars, neon lights, and party people dining al fresco. It was early evening so the atmosphere was relaxed as Western women in short shorts shopped, deadlocked dudes listened to Bob Marley, and people wandered around feeding their faces with pad thai bought from street vendors. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

After making a habit of arriving in new cities, countries, cultures, and environments for the past 7 months, I felt confident walking the distance of the road alone. Still, while trying to take in the sights, smells, and sounds, I didn't want to have that " fresh off the plane"? look. I don't know why. If there was ever a place to care less about having a 20-pound backpack strapped to your back with your eyes wide open, it was Khao San, where backpacking virgins and veterans have been arriving " fresh off the plane"? daily for decades.

My first choice of lodgings was full, which is typical when a place is listed in The Lonely Planet, though they referred me to a bigger hotel down a nearby soi (street) which suited me fine. I had a small, well-lit, quiet, fan room with an immaculately clean toilet/shower just off backpacker central in a capital city for $6/night.

The last few weeks in India, I had been daydreaming about spending my first night in Bangkok at a giant, modern dance club with loud house music and plenty of bars. Instead, I grabbed a cheeseburger and fries at the restaurant below my hotel and reasoned that I was too tired, and it was too rainy, for such endeavors.

My flight from Delhi to Bangkok was my 11^th in 7 months so it seems fitting that I received the best service to-date after paying my dues to the air gods.

The plane was my biggest of the trip, a Boeing 747 jumbo jet. I always loved the second level afforded to passengers on these planes, not that I'd ever spent time up there. Walking back to my requested window seat, which sat in the middle of the plane's gigantic wing (and thus affording little in the way of a view), my eyes lit up at all the space in cabin, especially the width of the seats and legroom.

I settled into my seat, thankful to yet again have no one sitting directly adjacent to me I began leafing through the airline's in-flight magazine, Sawasdee. In celebration of their 48^th year in operation, a feature article was dedicated to listing the " 48 most beautiful destinations across the globe."? Curious to see how I stacked up to the editors' list, I started checking off destinations I'd seen in life. Thanks to a family vacation (Grand Canyon), a post-collegiate summer in Europe (Sistine Chapel, Prague) and this trip (Taj Mahal, Fraser Island, The Remarkables, Golden Temple, Himalaya, Kathmandu Valley, Great Barrier Reef), I'd managed to see 35% of their list (with the hope of upping it to 58% by year's end). Of course it dawned on me that many of these places likely lie on a THAI Airways route, however it was still a fun exercise for my ego.

When I realized my earphones were broken while waiting at the Delhi airport, I felt annoyed at having to buy a third pair in less than two months, let alone spending the flight without my favorite tunes. THAI Airways solved the problem in the form of free ear bud headphones. Like the previous two cheap pairs I bought in India, they were far from the best, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Our 747 was airborne before I knew it, and complimentary drinks were being offered. I decided to take advantage of this arcane concept by imbibing two screwdrivers with my tasty chicken and rice lunch. Feeling on top of the world, and being there physically at 40,000 feet, I made productive use of the travel time (and lack of view) by writing about my final days in India.

It was around 7am when I settled on Ung's Magical Jungle Safari as my first activity of substance on Thailand's third largest island, Ko Samui.  The glossy flier spoke of the same crocodile dens, waterfalls, genitalia-shaped rocks, and mummified monk as the others, yet it was the portrayal of carefree Western backpackers riding the roofs of jeeps through the jungle that won me over.  I had gathered the pamphlets upon arrival at the popular and gorgeous Chaweng beach the day before.

I then surprised myself, sleeping for 15 straight hours without the aid of a single sip of alcohol.  In retrospect, I needed to make up for more than just the 3 hours of sleep on the overnight bus ride from Bangkok to Surat Thani.  I needed to make up for the lack of sleep my first 5 nights in Thailand. 

Before the trials of India, the trek in Nepal, the modern Asian metropolises and even before the Kuta clubs on Bali, I'd been fantasizing about my travels to Thailand.  I wanted to hit Bangkok with a bang! Maybe not the first night, but I imagined late nights in large dance clubs, drinking in the streets, meeting girls left and right, and getting my first taste of authentic pad thai.

Then reality slapped me in the face, but not before I enjoyed that first pad thai. 

So lets rewind and review those first few days in Bangkok before heading off on Mr. Ung's undoubtedly adventurous jungle safari.