Day 95- So The Masseuse Touched My Twig And Berries. Did I Mention They Were A Ladyboy?

Sadly our vacation was coming to a close.  We only had one destination left, Hong Kong, where we would only be spending a couple of nights (travel dates were changed due to poor planning on our part) before flying back to Canada and the reality that awaited us there (see: work and cold weather).  On a much more awesome note, while we were in Hong Kong, Colleen and I were going to go to Disneyland the next day and behave like a couple of children!

Our flight to Hong Kong was not scheduled to leave Koh Samui until 5pm,so we had one last day in the tropical expanse known as Thailand.  After loitering in our room and its air conditioning for as long as possible, we eventually caught the shuttle bus into town where we made it our mission to spend the remaining bit of Thai currency that we had.  Being the foodies that we are, McDonald's was naturally our first stop of the day for some of that fine local fare. 

While Mickey D's is usually a pretty safe bet, the same could not be said for our second stop of the day.  Although I am not a huge man of massages, Colleen somehow convinced me that we should get one last massage before leaving the island.  And as you all know, I am a big practitioner of the "happy wife, happy life" philosophy.  So with that, we found the classiest/most reputable looking place we came across and sauntered in and signed up for some oil massages.  It was one of the bigger massage parlors in the area (do they call them parlors, or is that only for rub and tugs?) so it seemed like a safe bet.  Boy were we wrong!  Next thing I knew, Colleen and I were being led upstairs to our own private curtained-off area with our two masseuses.  There was only slight problem...my masseuse was not a chick, or even a dude for that matter: it was a ladyboy!  Kind of fitting on my last day in Thailand don't you think?  Colleen could not stop giggling, while I was not sure whether to laugh myself or run out of the building.  Never being one to want to offend people, the next thing I knew I was following the instructions of my large-handed, and we shall assume well-endowed massage expert and was stripping down to my boxers.  Mother of God.  As I laid down I tried to relax, but the truth is I could not stop laughing to myself.  Here I was 95% naked getting oiled up by someone with gender identification issues while my girlfriend was laying on a bed beside me smirking and giggling at my discomfort.  As the massage progressed, so too did the relationship between his/her hands and my body.  Next thing I knew, my upper thighs were getting oiled up and the hands were slowing getting conspicuously close to my genital region.  I'm not going to lie: there was some definite finger-to-ball grazing going on, but at this point I was in too deep (pun fully intended)!  They say massages are supposed to be a relaxing experience...I can assure you this was not!  Since I am clearly a sucker for punishment, we realized we didn't have any small bills to tip the masseuses and trying to ask someone to make change for you who doesn't speak any English is next to impossible.  So we had to go to a shop down the road to break our bill so that we could come back and tip my burly provider of pleasure.  I guess I just couldn't stay away from those magic hands!

Once we dropped the last bit of our money on some ice cream cones, we hopped in a cab to the airport for our impending flight to Hong Kong.  Koh Samui Airport is actually rated as one of the top ten airports in the world.  It has a beautiful open-air concept and is a truly "tropical" airport.  Despite its superior ranking, we were informed that our flight had been delayed.  Due to the setback, we were each given a voucher that we could use in the airport shops for either food or a massage.  I will let you guess which one Colleen and I opted for!  After killing as much time as we could we headed to the boarding gate, only to be greeted by even more delays.  Again though, the Koh Samui Airport stepped up and kept the grumpy passengers happy with free snack food and refreshments. 

Following multiple postponements, our flight did eventually depart and we touched down in Hong Kong shortly after midnight.  We grabbed a cab to the Panda Hotel (yes, that was the real name) and seemingly passed an endless supply of skyscrapers along the way.  I knew Hong Kong was densely packed, but it is truly the definition of a concrete jungle.  Since WiFi was atrociously priced at $15 a day in our hotel, we ventured out into the Hong Kong night in search of a McDonald'/free WiFi, because let's be real, everyone needs to visit McDonald's three times a day. Am I right?

~Brentski~



The beauty that is Hong Kong.


Pack'em in as tight as you can!

Well at least there's no snow.



Day 94- My Girlfriend Sleeps In A Bug Net In Hotel Rooms. I Say No More.

Now that Colleen had gotten her diving fix, we were safe to leave Koh Tao.  Actually, I would stay there forever but alas, we had to travel onwards.  We were catching a ferry to one of the neighboring islands, Koh Samui, as we had booked a flight from there to Hong Kong the following afternoon.  In true Thai fashion, one of the two ferries that operates between Koh Tao and Koh Samui was out of commission for the day, so there was only a 3pm ferry.  Due to the sweltering heat and our extreme whiteness, Colleen and I passed the time before our boat ride by bouncing between various restaurants in an attempt to stay out of the sun and consume as many refreshing drinks as possible.  There would be many things I was going to miss about Thailand (cheap beer, great weather, etc.), but riding on their ferries was not one of these things!

With the final ferry ride of our vacation behind us, we headed to our hotel for our last night in Thailand.  We were staying at what appeared to be a beautiful beachside hotel, the Impiana Chaweng.  The lobby, pool, and beachside dining all looked spectacular, but unfortunately for us when we went to check-in we were told our room was not yet ready as it was "under repair".  I can only imagine.  For our troubles we were given a four course Thai meal that consisted of lots of nasty shit like fish soup, random shellfish and other stuff that had probably just washed up on shore that week.  Even the ice cream they gave us for dessert sucked!  After dinner we were given the keys to our "repaired" room, although it was a safe assumption that they had spent the entire renovation budget on making the lobby nice.  The room was dated, dirty, and had a solid collection of Colleen's favorite...flying insects!

Seeing as how it was our last night in Thailand for the foreseeable future, we decided to catch the 10pm shuttle bus into Chaweng Beach, the main shopping and nightlife area on the island.  Since our complimentary dinner earlier was not to our liking, we had a second dinner consisting of some good old-fashioned Thai pizza!  Since we were leaving tomorrow we did our best to rid ourselves of some of our Thai currency by purchasing useless souvenirs.  Colleen then retreated to the salon for one last budget manicure.  While she entertained herself by getting her nails done, I decided to just go for a walk around the area by myself.  I quickly discovered that as a white male this was a terrible idea, as I was constantly being harassed by ladyboy hookers, Russian hookers, and regular female Thai hookers!  If you love paying for sex, then Chaweng Beach is the place for you people!  Eventually I just gave up on my exploration and went back to the salon where Colleen was and waited outside.  As she was finishing up the power went out in the entire area.  Just a random observation, but if you ever have the opportunity to be in a bar/club district while the power goes out, take it!  It was really surreal to see.  Kind of eerie actually.

Once power was restored and Colleen was prettied up, we headed across the street to some little bar called Legends.  I figure with a name like that you can't go wrong.  My final cheap beers in Thailand tasted just as good as the first ones, and I am sure I will be back; one day. 

Back at the hotel, Colleen was still petrified about the fact that there were a few bugs in our room earlier (pretty sure they were all dead now) and she thus decided to sleep in a bug net.  Yes, my girlfriend sleeps in a bug net in hotel rooms.  Paranoid? Just a little.  But hey, we've all got our quirks!

Colleen protecting herself from the non-existent critters in our room inside her bug net!



Tomorrow we were venturing on to the last leg of our trip, two nights in Hong Kong, before flying back to Canada.

~Brentski~

Day 68- Best Part Of Travelling In Non-English Speaking Countries; Getting A Haircut.

After two straight nights of heavy drinking, I was starting to feel the effects and was not overly limber.  Due to my lack of mobility, I decided to spend the morning researching where Colleen and I would start our scuba diving course the following day, as we were scheduled to ferry over to the island of Koh Tao.  Once all that business was taken care of, we promptly headed over to the Sham Rock's (aka the scene of the previous night's awesome cover band experience) and grabbed some lunch.  Seeing as how this was a vacation, I decided to follow that up with a lengthy nap.  Tough life; I know.

Having now been gone from Canada over a month, I at last had to cave and get a haircut.  Getting a haircut in a foreign country is one of those things you never think about until you actually have to do it.  I have had some of my most memorable experiences travelling in the chair's at various hairdressers around the world.  I did some quick research and discovered that there was a place around the corner from my hotel.  Feeling a little nervous,  I made my way over and was put into a seat without a word muttered between myself and the gentleman who was going to be responsible for trimming my luscious locks.  He just instantly went to work while I sat there, afraid of what might become of my hair.  If it wasn't for the fact that I was being constantly harassed by giant mosquitoes the whole time I might have decided to close my eyes and just await the outcome, but alas I could not let those blood suckers destroy me!  In the end, the haircut was not that bad, all things considered, although I must say I was not overly fond of the use of a straight razor with no lubricant and/or shaving cream.  I got sensitive skin brother!     

While I was getting my hair butchered, Colleen was out getting a mani-pedi.  Seems fair.

With my newly coiffed hair, we hit up the street vendors for the third time in the four nights we had spent on Koh Samui.  I must say, it is pretty awesome when you can get a decent meal for under $3 and you get the added bonus of being parked right next door to the girly bars which means free entertainment is thrown in!  Dinner was naturally followed by some "street drinks" (see: roadside lemonade stand-style vendors hawking booze) before we hopped in one of the "roaming" cabs to take us to the biggest town on the island, Chaweng.  The roaming cabs, for those not in the know, are pick-up trucks with their beds converted into two rows of benches that just circle the island picking up people and dropping them off wherever they need to go. Genius I say!

 

Upon being dropped off at Chaweng, we headed over to some joint called Ark Bar, that was a massive beach bar complete with a fire show, more bars than I could count, a legitimately half-way decent DJ and drunk skanks everywhere.  It's okay, I'm allowed to say that, I'm basically married.  After procuring my own personal sand bucket filled with strawberry daiquiri, Colleen and I attempted to find some prime real estate to sit down.  Upon finding a table where it appeared the gentlemen seated there would be leaving we were thrown a curveball when it was discovered that one guy could barely move and was passed out cold on the table.  In fact, I ended up helping  his buddies scrape him up and they eventually marched off with him a la "Weekend AtBernie's".  Sometime after that first glass bucket of daiquiri, Colleen convinced me to get up off my ass and join the masses on the beach for a sexy dance party.  During my pathetic attempt to be groovy, a little Thai girl peddling glow sticks to drunk gringos took it upon herself to steal my hat and refused (rather cutely) to return it to me unless I bought one of her sets of glow stick glasses.  I promptly handed over the cash and then made my way over to the laughing gas bar to huff on some balloons with my brand new spectacles.  Please don't tell my dentist I was abusing nitrous oxide. Thanks.

BEST. GLASSES. EVER. Not sure if they're covered under our insurance plan.

Once we were danced out, it was time to head back to the hotel, but not before we hit up the local Burger King to keep our "Koh Samui fast food every night before bed" streak alive.  I would also like to say that I was very proud of Colleen as she managed to barter the cabbie down by 50% on our ride back to the hotel thanks to some liquid courage! 

Unfortunately, our good luck quickly ran out at the hotel as our room key that also provided us with power, lights, etc had stopped working.  Upon telling the guy at the front desk, he basically told us to fuck ourselved and that we should go sleep with no power and it wasn't his problem.  Yeah, it is dude, you're  the only one working.  After some bickering (Colleen was getting quite agitated), the dude at the desk eventually gave us another key but told us that we were going to have to pay for it when we checked out even though it was not our fault.  Okay, fuck face, okay.  Throw in the fact that we were greeted by a giant cockroach just chilling in the middle of our room and well my friends you have a recipe for some good old fashioned Thai hospitality!



Just what I love to come home to!



~Brentski~

Day 67- So You Can Sing, Play An Instrument, Do The Splits AND Balance A Bottle On Your Head At The Same Time?! I Feel So Worthless Now.

My engagement story is officially over. Thank you to everyone for making those blog postings my most viewed of all-time!  For the next couple of months I will do my best to finish wrapping up the trip log-blog-story from Colleen and I's visit to Asia last year. Thanks again for reading everyone and just remember...when picking up hookers in Thailand, be sure to inspect their genital region for gender identification purposes.

Due to my previous misfortunes  shame inducing wipeouts from operating mopeds in Thailand, I was still too gun shy to drive anything and thus Colleen and I were forced to walk and cab everywhere.  With that in mind, I came up with the brilliant idea that the two of us should take a hike out to some rocks I had read about that were apparently shaped like genitals and were somewhat of a local landmark.  Yes, this is what passes for entertainment in my life.  Never ones to plan anything, Colleen and I set off and were quickly regretting our decision.  After nearly an hour of walking in what felt like the most suffocating heat in the history of mankind (with many pit stops along the way for various liquid breaks), we finally arrived at our destination.  Sadly, the rocks were extremely underwhelming and I was starting to wish that I had just stayed in our hotel room and watched Thai soap operas all day.  Seeing as how we had walked all this way though, we decided to explore a little path through the forest that we saw other people coming and going from.  Not really being sure of what to expect, I must say it was an odd surprise when after a few minutes we stumbled upon a couple of rickety houses shacks and a large group of both Thai and foreign potheads smoking up on some gigantic boulders overlooking the ocean.  Didn't see that coming.  Just a note to all non-black people: DREADSLOOK TERRIBLE AND DIRTY ON YOU. JUST SAYING.  Sadly, the genitalia rocks did not live up to the hype and I was thus forced to stop for beers on the way back to the hotel to drown my sorrows.  Oh, and then stop for pizza.  And this is why I was up over fifteen pounds since leaving Inuvik.



Our fake "hiking is fun" smiles.



My real "drinking beer is way more awesome than hiking" pose.



 

With our feet sore and our bodies worn out from a lot (at least to us!) of walking that day, Colleen again convinced me to go for a massage.  Unlike the previous day's visit, I made sure that I had underwear on this time.  While everything went peachy for me, Colleen unfortunately fell victim to a breakdown in communications.  Earlier in the afternoon she had twisted her ankle and she thought the massage would help.  Instead, the ladies with magic hands proceeded to destroy Colleen's ankle a little more and turn her into a full on gimp!

 

Just say no to crack kids.

You know what fixes up my busted ankle? Not getting it torqued and ripped around by a masseuse.

With Colleen's ankle in a severely gimpy state, the two of us decided to spend our evening once again touring the many street side "bars" in Lamai Beach.   Eventually, we headed to the more refined and slightly louder confines of the Sham Rock Bar.  Sham Rock's is probably the busiest bar on that part of the island, with an Irish-Island theme and a Thai cover band playing the greatest rock songs ever.  Not only was the band awesome, but they were also like magicians, balancing bottles on their head while playing instruments, doing the splits with said bottles on head, solving world hunger, etc.  I must say, I have seen some great cover bands in my time (shout out to The Practically Hip and Wanted Dead Or Alive), but these guys definitely ranked right up there.  In keeping with our tradition, Colleen insisted on hitting up the local Subway after the bar for the third night running and it is safe to say Jared ain't got shit on Colleen!

 

Note the heads....



Are you kidding me right now?! Bieber's got nothing on this!

~Brentski~

Day 66- Do Pro Wrestlers Oil Themselves Up Or Is There A Designated Oil Guy In The Dressing Room?

Thailand.  Sun. Sand. Beaches. Cheap drinks.  Yes, these are just many of the things that come to mind (at least the non-perverse mind) when you think of this fine Southeast Asian nation.  Since our hotel was just around the corner from one these beaches the people speak of, Colleen and I decided to start the day off with a nice suntan and some solid sand lounging cause we heard that is what people do on vacation.  Unfortunately we are not normal people.  In theory it was a nice relaxing idea, but within half an hour, we were both bored and Colleen started harassing me to go back to the hotel.  Shortly thereafter we ended up at a beachside bar imbibing in some lunchtime wobbly pops.  For Colleen this was enough of a beach excursion, while I decided to try and tough it out back on the beach with my e-reader and a copy of "Argo".  This didn't last long before the Heaven's started pissing on me and I was thus forced to admit I was not cut out for the beach towel lifestyle.

Later in the day, Colleen managed to convince me that we had to go for a couples massage (I know what you are thinking guys, and yes I am so owned).  With the memory of my recently painful Thai massage still fresh in my mind from a few days ago, I opted this time to try out every porn star's favorite massage, the full body oil massage.  Unlike the outdoor massage bazaar where I received my last massage, this one was indoors and climate controlled.  One thing I did not count on was that I probably should have worn boxers as I was just wearing my bathing suit with nothing underneath.  Before we began, the dominatrix masseuse kept insisting that I take off my shorts (she was assuming I wore underwear like a normal person in public) and I kept trying to explain to her that I didn't need her or her coworkers seeing my Don Johnson.  Eventually through sign language and some "Hooked On Phonics" I was able to communicate the fact that I would be electing to get a rub down in my trunks.  I must say I rather enjoyed the oil massage and I was starting to turn the corner on this sub culture of massages. 

With our freshly rubbed down and lubed up bodies, Colleen and I decided to make the rounds of what we called the "street bars" that evening.  The basic premise of the street bars (no idea what they call them) is that they are little booths set up in random spots along the streets that sell cocktails for approximately $2 Canadian.  We would drink at one booth and then move on to another.  These are a great way to get your drink on for cheap, and also forced us out of our hotel room  and interact with other human beings.  After tiring of the I'm-not-sure-if-it's-legal street liquor, we attempted to check out a few of the local bars in the Lamai Beach area.  It didn't long for us to conclude that they were mostly all girly bars full of old white men and young Thai women girls that I'm sure were all looking to find true soul mates. 

Double fisting. Like a boss.

 

Colleen sourcing out some street hooch.

Since Colleen doesn't share my love for Asian women and is against inviting strangers back to the hotel, we decided that our safer bet to end off the night would be a double whammy of McDonald's and Subway followed by one last call at our local street booze peddler.  Good night!

~Brentski~

 

Streets of Lamai.

Girly bars = pure class.

 

Day 65- Thanks Asshole. I Could Have Used That Money For My Thai Sex Slaves. Instead I'm Stuck With A $300 Repair Bill.

One of the many beaches off of Koh Samui

 The morning of January 22, was one that I was dreading for multiple reasons.  One of these reasons was not the fact that I would no longer have to deal with the breakfast buffet staff at the Salad Buri Resort.  Now I am sure all of the employees are fantastic people away from their workplace, but never have I seen such a bunch of grunters.  I swear this was the only way they knew how to communicate.  It was as if the restaurant employees were all a bunch of constipated mime-porn stars.  

What I WAS not looking forward to was having to return my severely damaged moped that I had crashed a few days earlier.  The guy I had rented it from had taken my passport as a deposit and had made me sign a shit ton of forms that I did so quite hastily without reading them over.  Once I finally pulled my testicles down out of my stomach, I made my way down to the hotel lobby to face the inevitable.  There was no chance I could hide the damage as I had successfully done when renting an RV a couple of years earlier in Australia or that they were not going to inspect the moped as had happened a week or so earlier in Ban Krut.  Yup, I was going to have to bend over and take this one.  Fast forward a few minutes and two dudes are going over the bike with a clipboard and making feverous notes while I stand by helplessly.  After the most ridiculous inspection ever, I am called up to the lobby desk and they explain that I have to pay for all new replacement parts for every piece I have scratched on the bike.  Keeping in mind that all I have really done is scrape a bunch of plastic covers and such, I try my best to argue with the non-English speaking holders of my passport that this is simply not fair.  They basically tell me to fuck off and that I owe them  8100 Thai Baht ($282 Canadian).  Or as I like to look at, forty-five times the cost of the actual bike rental for a night!  At this point there was not much I could do as I needed my passport and really just wanted to get the fuck out of there so I begrudgingly handed over my Visa card and contented myself with the fact that I least I would receive 282 Aeroplan miles for the transaction.  Eventually we were on our way, although Colleen was actually more pissed off than I was.  I tried to calm her and down and tell her there was nothing we could do and it was my own stupid fault but the woman was out for blood I tell ya!


Sounds like my kind of club!

With my wallet now a bit lighter than I had originally intended for it to be, we headed over to the ferry dock and made our way onto the ferry towards our next island stop, Koh Samui.  Koh Samui is the biggest of the three tourist islands in the Gulf of Thailand and it takes under an hour by boat to get there from Koh Phangan.  Thankfully, our ferry ride was significantly smoother than the one we had experienced a few days earlier and there were no barf bags needed. 

"Bangalow" you say? Sounds intriguing.

Once we loaded our stuff into a taxi, we headed on our way to our hotel/resort where we would be staying in the Lamai Beach area of the island.  Driving around the island, I couldn't help but notice just how tourist-driven the whole place was.  There were mega resorts everywhere and it was extremely well developed.  The island could easily hold its own against some of the big Caribbean tourist-powerhouses and some of the tranquility and genuine island feel of Koh Phangan now seemed like a distant memory.

The sensory overload quickly changed into confusion as we were dropped off at our resort and it was not the same resort that I had remembered booking online a couple of days earlier.  The driver assured me that we were in fact at The Grand Thai House Resort.  (Note: I would later discover that there were two almost identical named properties in the same area, the other one being The Thai House Beach Resort and that there was a mix-up with webpage links, images, reviews, etc with hotels.com and tripadvisor.  I am never one to really complain, but I did write hotels.com a quick e-mail explaining what had happened and was given a $50 voucher. I was quite proud of myself for this.)  Naturally we were in the least nicer of the two resorts although it provided us with an excellent location as it was right in the heart of Lamai Beach.  Not so excellent was the fact that it appeared as though someone had left our hotel's patio door for an extended period of time prior to our check-in and our room was full of mosquitoes.  Oh well, nothing like a mosquito killing spree to get your daily cardio!

Following the funeral procession for the nine million mosquitoes I massacred we decided to check out Lamai Beach and its nighttime offerings.  It became apparent to Colleen and I almost immediately after stepping foot outside of our resort that Lamai was the center of the "girly bar action" on the island.  You can do your own research on what those are folks!  Despite me wanting to investigate the girly bar scene, the wifey and I opted for the safer route and spent the evening drinking at one of the many overpriced Australian themed bars in the area.  Between foreign owned bars, bars with stripper poles in the middle, and the greatest concentration of massage parlors on the planet, there wasn't much room left for anything else.  Apparently, many of the massage  studios/parlors/stores (?) are used as fronts to launder money for the local crime syndicates, and 'mI sure the same can be said for the girly bars.  With our overpriced drinks resting firmly in our stomachs, we did what every North American does after they have a few bevvies... hit up the local Subway for a delicious foot long!

She seems to be enjoying her martini.

~Brentski~