Thailand: Coup Coup Ca-Choo...

or
Thailand: Oompah Oompah Stick It Up Your Junta...

Enough of the bad puns, there was no sign of the military coup, the only soldiers I saw were at the new Bangkok airport making sure everyone got their luggage. No sign of civil unrest, but then my Thai conversational language capabilities are not up to being able to ask locals how they feel about the political situation...

A couple of days were spent in Bangkok. Traveling up and down the Chao Phraya river was the best way to get around the traffic-choked city, but we made sure not to sit in the rear of the public boats, as this is the area reserved for monks. Presumably this is to make sure they don't accidentally have physical contact with a woman during the rush-hour crush. I did see one regular Joe ignore this protocol though, and if you think Buddhist monks are completely serene and beautific you should have seen the filthy looks they were shooting his way.

An alternative to the public boats was the long boats - long, thin rickety vessels powered by a truck engine attached to a large egg whisk. Those boys could MOVE! I didn't feel 100% safe getting into one though. You can travel in one of these boats from Phnom Penh in Cambodia to Bangkok. Personally, I'd rather do the journey on a pogo stick.

Ventured out to the infamous district of Patpong for a little scandalous entertainment. Turning the corner into the street we were immediately set upon by touts for the various shows available for our delectation. "Ping-pong show? Very good!" "I'm sure it is, but no thanks" I would demure, but that would just prompt them to show me the full printed menu of the choice of live performances available. They were all variations on a disturbed theme: Girl on Girl, Boy on Girl, P*ssy Fish In (shocking grammar), P*ssy Chopstick, and one that particularly sticks in my memory, P*ssy Snap Needle. I mean... what?? and, Ouch!

Didn't see (or identify) too many ladyboys, but I did see one with a particularly mix and match approach at a bus stop: short skirt, manly hips, hyper-womanly bosom and a 3-day mustache.

Flew to Koh Samui and got a catamaran to Koh Tao. The original plan was to go to the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan later in the week, but I had started to doubt that I was still Mad For It. This was confirmed when the catamaran stopped at Koh Phangan and a huge procession of British "geezers" of both sexes got off, all sunburn, Hoxton fins, bad tattoos and general twatishness. The thought of being trapped on a tiny island with these tossers and relentless "banging" tunes from 5pm to 9am was far from desirable.

The main focus of our time on Koh Tao was diving. After the Philippines and Vietnam it was a bit of a shock to have to set up my own kit and even de-fog my own mask - the horror! The dives were jolly good fun, even when we had Aaron as the Dive Master: a Californian of the most irritating variety, wearing a visor upside-down and to the side, and every 5th word being "chillin'". Tool. (I've become quite the grouch haven't I?) The best dive was after we did our Deep Adventure Dive qualification which allowed us to go down to 30 meters and have a swim around with some grey reef sharks. Eeek!The trip to Koh Tao afforded us the opportunity to refamiliarise ourselves with the Great British Public, there were hordes of the buggers on holiday in Thailand. Not all personality types on display made me want to rush home. The most cringeworthy but ultimately gratifying Brit Abroad experience happened while I was enjoying breakfast in a cafe one rainy morning. A scrawny bloke came in, wearing those offensive plastic Crocs shoes. If you have been fortunate enough never to see them, then here they are in all their glory:

I have no objection to these loathsome items if they are worn by someone doing the gardening, but if you are in public there is no excuse. Barefoot would be better. Anyway, said bloke begins demanding in a thick Essex accent "Free (3) sammiges (sandwiches) take away (take away)". I could barely understand the ill-mannered oik, and the Thai staff had trouble also. To make himself clear he used the effective communication tool of repeating the request louder and in a more aggressive tone of voice. Surprisingly, still no success. He then proclaimed to the cafe that "these lot are worse then them round the corner innit". I have no idea who them round the corner were but they immediately had my sympathy.

After a few more minutes of international diplomacy he got his sammiges and a coffee, and he clattered off down the steps. Inflexible molded plastic shoes and wet steps are not an ideal combination: he slipped and hit the ground with some force, his sammiges scattered hither and thither, and his coffee burst over him to pleasing effect. As he writhed in agony on the floor the normally friendly and helpful staff looked on impassively and I chortled happily into my coffee. The moral of the story:

• Don't be a dick abroad. The universe has ways of getting revenge.
• Crocs worn in public will lead to personal disaster.

Back to Bangkok for one final indignity: I asked a street prostitute for an eyelash tint. I don't wish to dwell on the matter.