Ko Samui, or, Duckling and Cover

It was a last-minute decision, which naturally means exorbitant flight prices, but other than that, it was a good one. Toward the tail end of a conference in Singapore last week, a group of people had planned a trip to Ko Samui, Thailand. With a number of choices, including sitting around in Singapore for another few days and potentially visiting the zoo each of those days (not a bad choice, per se), I decided to go.

Someone had been kind enough to arrange

some amazing weather for me upon landing.

Every roof was turned into a waterfall. How

magical.

Upon landing, I took a taxi straight to the hotel, asked him to wait, hoped that a blank stare meant yes, and ran to check in. The look on the clerk's face was priceless as she watched me open the door to my room, fling my suitcase in, close the door again, and run off back toward the taxi. The rest of the group had arrived a day earlier, since I had to hang around to lead one more session the day before, and I was running off to meet them in a vaguely-defined location somewhere around the island.

Turns out this location was not only vaguely-defined, it also has a couple of names. Not knowing what else to do, I gave all of them to the driver, and through some stroke of luck, we ended up down some tiny side street in front of the Swing Bar, aptly named due to the swings in place of the bar stools. It was quite quiet, as I came to find out because most people were getting massages at the time. I met up with Phil and Sara, and caught up over a few drinks while we waited for the others.

Eventually, our taxi arrived to take us back to the hotel to change before heading out for dinner. And when I say taxi, I actually mean pick-up truck. Because that's what we got. Roughly eight of us all crammed into the bed of a pickup and trundled off down the bumpy, twisty streets back toward the hotel. In all honesty, it was an absolute blast.

Surprisingly, we all managed to stay inside the

truck. Wait...1...2...3...4...5...6...se-...uh oh.

Bianca and Ernesto: enjoying the ride,

or hanging on for dear life? Or perhaps

both?

After a quick turnaround and change into dry clothes, only to get soaked through by the rain again, we had an equally-quick drink and piled into a slightly-different sort of taxi. And by taxi, I actually mean purpose-built party van, complete with LED lighting, and a 43:1 speaker-to-person radio. The bumping club beats came to an abrupt halt when we reached the restaurant and were met with bossa nova remixes of popular songs instead. Still, it helped set a chill mood for the evening.

Dinner was delicious - lots of wine, lots of sharing plates, and one of my (admittedly, many) guilty pleasures, steak with blue cheese sauce.

Entrées long-since polished off, and the wine

is flowing freely with the rain coming down

just outside.

All smiles while Caitriona dabs hopefully

at the sauce on her plate while waiting for

the mains to arrive.

Mmm...saucy...

We dined for a few hours before heading back toward the hotel. Some decided to stop along the way. Others went all the way home. Most of us, though, ended up continuing the evening at the Green Mango, a club conveniently located just next to the hotel. What I've come to find out, is that the Green Mango is notorious for their Sangsom buckets - essentially a bottle of Coke, a bottle of Sangsom (type of Thai whiskey), and a small-yet-highly-concentrated bottle of Thai Red Bull. This resulted in the rest of my evening being fairly hazy until I was able to properly review my photos the following morning. There was a lot of dancing. God knows I looked ridiculous, but I was beyond caring at that point.

Scientific fact: Sangsom buckets taste much better

when there are multiple people drinking out of them

at the same time.

For whatever reason, the three of us decided that planking would be a good idea at this particular point in time. So we found ourselves a ledge and had a go.

Phil attempts the fabled 'Thirsty Trout' plank.

I attempt the equally-difficult 'Overly-Enthusiastic

Dolphin' pose. Caitriona scores me a 2/10.

Caitriona, whose form was good, received a DQ

for unsportsmanlike placement of the hand.

Sorry, couldn't airbrush the offending arm out...

It wouldn't do any bit of good to post most of the remaining club pictures from the evening. Most of them are blurry, and the others would probably result in the friends featured in them sending threats my way. In a nutshell, there was dancing up on a very high podium above the crowd, we met a group of Thai girls visiting from Bangkok, to whom Phil ended up taking a liking very quickly, and at the very end of the evening, I met someone who changed my life for the better.

This is that story.

Around 4:30 in the morning, Caitriona and I finally decided to take our leave, leaving Phil in the capable hands of the Thai girls. We wandered down the street, following Caitriona's tummy to find some Thai crepes (which are made with peanut butter, bananas, and condensed milk). Sadly not stumbling upon any carts that fit the bill, we settled for one that sold chicken baguettes. I wasn't starving, so we sat around while the owner prepared one with everything for Caitriona. Out of the corner of our eyes, we catch some movement (other than the drunken stumbling of locals and residents). A small ball of fluff scurries across the street and behind a garbage bin. To be certain what it was, I go and check behind to have a look. Peering back up at me is a tiny little duckling. Clean-looking, not visibly fearful, and peeping away cheerfully. I slowly reach down and gently cradle it in my fingers. I knew right away this little guy (we checked) was special when he (we double-checked) didn't struggle, but sat happily in my hand. I brought my new find back to Caitriona, which nearly caused her to forget all about her sandwich (almost unheard-of). Her eyes wide, she reached out for the downy duckling, who happily waddled into her hands.

It was then we made what probably wasn't the best decision we've made, but a the same time, the best decision we could have made: we were going to take him home with us.

Lifting him to her shoulder, Caitriona created a little nest for him using her hair. He sat there, not even struggling, barely making a peep, nestled in her hair, the entire walk home.

Upon reaching the room, we began to look up what to feed him. Bread is always the default for ducks, but we found in hindsight that it actually lacks any nutritional value for them. They do eat snails and grass and other natural nibbles, though. Running outside, I pulled a bit of grass from the garden in front of the room. The little fella didn't feel like eating at that moment, so we decided to make him comfortable. Lying on opposite sides of the bed to make sure he didn't walk off the edge accidentally, we set him between us.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

He waddled his way back to Caitriona and nuzzled up against her again in her hair. Little movement came from him after that, and only the occasional peep.

It was at this point we decided to do what we knew we shouldn't have done: name it. By the end of the trip, we had several names for him: Francis Henry O'Brien II, Duck Sauce (Phil's new Thai friend, Nattha, came up with this one), and Pete (when he was chirping happily away, it sounded like peetpeetpeetpeetpeet!

We did eventually find that he does have a taste

for bread, though.

Caitriona eventually dozed off with the duckling on her neck. Worried that she might inadvertently crush the little fella, I decided to take him and watch him while she got some sleep.

Zzz...he had no problems nuzzling up to me

either.

I was tired, there was no getting around it. Francis would peep occasionally during the night, and I would respond with quiet quacking sounds (delirious?) which would cause him to hush for a few minutes. Eventually, he fell asleep too.

The next morning came far too soon, and Francis was still with us. He was up and about, so we decided to help him get his feet wet, as it were.

Caitriona gets Francis ready. It's sink

or swim! Get it?! *smirk*

Francis goes for a little swim in the sink.

The muddy bit in the background is from

the grass we tried to feed him earlier.

He splashes around for a little bit, washes his face and eyes in the water, and eventually signals he's ready to get out. Shortly thereafter, Phil and Nattha stop by, and we share our new adopted child with them. Not quite ready to give him up just yet, we decide to take him to breakfast with us.

The hotel staff didn't even seem to mind, and in fact, were amused that we had a duckling at the table with us. Francis just sat there, happily munching along on a bit of potato with us while we ate. We even decided to take him for a proper swim with us. We sat in the pool while he paddled gleefully around in circles in front of us. So proud. He even took a little dip in the sea to stretch his sea legs.

Then we knew what had to be done - we couldn't keep him forever, especially with Australia's strict quarantine laws (I had suggested sticking him in Caitriona's hair for the trip through customs, but we hadn't trained him to be fully silent yet). So, we said our brief farewells, left him with reception, and told them to release him somewhere into the grounds after we had left.

That was the last we saw of little Francis, though I could have sworn I'd heard him peeping once or twice while walking down the path...

That evening, after a mid-afternoon snooze, those of us who were left (me, Caitriona, Sara, Phil, and Nattha), all decided to have dinner at the hotel, and then catch a lady-boy cabaret just across the street. I'd heard Thailand was famous for their lady-boys, but I still didn't know what to expect. Anyway, dinner first.

Phil and I went to go pick out some fresh fish

for them to grill, and decided on some snapper

and some tuna. Those prices are ~$1.60 / 100g.

The food just kept on coming, and we probably

ordered enough for a group twice our size.

Luckily, we had Nattha at the table with us, who,

despite being half everyone's size, managed to

eat more than anyone.

Delicious grilled red snapper...mmm...

Sadly, it had been raining most of dinner, so we

didn't get a chance to sit outside. Once the rain

stopped, he staff hurriedly squeegeed down all

the outside mats and tables.

Stuffed beyond belief from dinner, we paid our mind-bogglingly cheap bill and wandered across the street to the lady-boy cabaret. Which I should mention, was free. We settled into our tables near the front of the stage.

Things start off with a bang.

And the action continues. Bear in mind these

are all lady-boys, and I found myself wondering,

crap, would I know the difference if I met them

on the street?

With some probably more than others...

It was a singing (well, lip-syncing) and dancing

spectacular.

There was even a bit of Moulin Rouge action.

Not to mention a smattering of comic relief.

There was even a little somethin' for the ladies.

Or men, for that matter.

The show was high-energy, had a few laughs, and was just a ton of fun. It was amazing to think they put it on twice a night every night for free. Many of the performers lined up along the walkway on the way out to pose for pictures in exchange for a small donation.

Haha - probably the best picture of the night.

I probably could have toned down the excitement

a notch or two.

This is probably one of the ones who would

have completely thrown me for a loop.

Nicely done, miss.

And of course, we needed one with the guys.

Before heading back to the hotel, we decided

to see if Nattha could fit into Caitriona's bag.

She did.

We wandered back toward the hotel to grab a quick drink out on the beach now that it had finally stopped raining. The groups who sought the tourist dollars were swarming, but we still had a bit of fun. There were kids going around with Connect 4 games challenging people to play for 100 baht. For a bit of fun, I played twice, and lost both times (despite putting up a helluva fight the second time). There were also people selling sky lanterns, so our group decided to send one out into the night sky.

Lighting the lantern...

Letting it go...

Off into the night sky...

I sat out on the beach for a little while longer before the lack of sleep the night before came crashing down on me like a ton a bricks. I wished everyone a good night, and went to go get some sleep.

I woke up nice and early the following morning, thanks to the fact that I had neglected to change the time zone on my alarm from Singapore to Thailand, so instead of 7, I was up and about at 6. So I decided to go get a few pictures while I waited for the others to wake up for our flight out that morning. It took me a few tries for the pictures to turn out well, since the lenses kept fogging up due to the humidity difference between my room and the outdoors.

Just off our beach at dawn.

Looking back toward the hotel grounds.

By all accounts, it was a great little spot.

When the others were finally awake, we said our farewells, Phil, Caitriona, and I all piled into a van, and headed for the airport.

The little Samui airport was fantastic - it had free

drinks and snacks, free wi-fi, and a decidedly

tropical / holiday feel about it.

...complete with lily pad pond.

There was even a nice little mall / promenade

area as we walked to our gate.

Phil was with us all the way back to Singapore, where we parted ways as he returned to Beijing and Caitriona and I flew back to Sydney. Albeit brief, the weekend was an amazing adventure.

Here's lookin' at you, Francis.

Wollongong, or, It's My Party and I'll Drive If I Want To

Last year for my birthday, I decided I'd stay local, but still wanted to do something fun / novel. Racking my brain, I finally came up with the idea of renting an exotic car and driving down the Grand Pacific Drive toward Wollongong, a lovely little city where a few of my friends were from.

It was the perfect crime.

The getaway vehicle? A Lotus Elise Club Sport. My partner in crime? One Deanna Marshall.

We met early one Saturday morning to pick up the car. The heist was simple - head south, hit the twisty roads, enjoy the scenery, and meet Angela and Belinda for lunch at a pub. Afterward, we'd see some beaches, meet up with Josh and his brother-in-law to catch a movie, and I'd stay the night at Angela's parents' house (which she was kind enough to offer), followed by a delicious big breakfast the following morning. It all sounded pretty good.

Oh yeah.

So we set off, stopping only once a short while into our trip for some mutually agreed-upon chicken McNuggets (I did my best not to judge that she prefers them without sauce). Hunger temporarily sated and the car smelling delightfully of fried chicken and sweet & sour sauce, we continued on.

I'll be the first to admit that while I absolutely love driving, I despise driving in Sydney. The good news is, once you get ~10 or 15 minutes away from the CBD, the roads open up, traffic thins, and if you're heading south, things get really exciting.

You can take either the main highway south, a pleasant swath of road that dawdles along inland, or you can cut east out to the coast and be presented with a twisty mess of winding roads that snake through the Royal National Park all the way to Wollongong, including the scenic Sea Bridge just north of the city. We followed the main road for a little bit before heading out toward the coast.

If you're not familiar with the car I'm driving, allow me to explain. Lotus has always made a non-traditional exotic. Instead of focusing on making a bigger, louder, more powerful car, they opted for a different strategy: make the car lighter. By taking out things like carpeting, part of the roof, navigation, and other creature comforts, you end up with a car that weighs less than a ton. Couple this with a small-yet-bitey engine and you have yourself one hell of a go-kart. With its small size and low center of gravity, you can whip it around a hairpin and it stays planted the entire time. It was everything I could do to get the rear tires to break loose around the corners.

To the best of my recollection, Deanna was fine with this.

Oh, and I suppose it's worth mentioning that the engine is right behind your head - and turns into a cacophony of bellows and screams and other goosebump-inducing noises as the tachometer climbs toward the redline.

All in all, it was an absolute joy to drive.

Stunning coastal view from the Sea Bridge just

north of Wollongong.

Though I didn't know why, people had decided

to clip hundreds of padlocks and combination

locks to the guard rail along the road. Perhaps

someone who was overzealous in their concern

for someone running off with it?

A long drop down to the crashing waves below

the road.

Deanna enjoys the scenery - or perhaps is just

welcoming an opportunity to be out of the

little yellow sardine can.

Which brings me to the next topic of discussion: the practicality of the Lotus. Or in hindsight, the complete lack thereof. This first became evident to me when trying to get into the car. Once you're actually seated, it's actually quite spacious and comfortable, or as comfortable as a car with plastic seats can be. It's the getting in that's the tricky part. It goes a bit like this:

1) Open door. Easy enough.

2) Stick left leg into right wheel well and slide it across toward left wheel well. You should now be straddling the carbon fiber door still inches above the ground.

3) Steady yourself with your right hand or elbow on the pavement.

4) Neatly fold yourself in half at the midsection, ensuring your head is well past your knees.

5) Using gravity as a guide, fall clumsily into the driver's seat, ensuring that your left leg slides awkwardly out the left side of the car, and your right leg is wedged firmly between the door frame and the door itself, above the hinges if possible.

6) Dislocate both your right hip socket and right knee and gently bring your other leg into the car.

Congratulations! You are now ready to drive.

The best part was when we stopped by Deanna's parents' house, and I got to attempt this with an audience. I will say that removing the bit of cloth that makes up the roof makes this a little easier.

Pristine driving goodness.

We stopped for lunch at the Scarborough Pub, my new favorite venue along the drive south. It's located along the cliffside and boasts an amazing back lawn area with lots of tables and umbrellas, as well as a view that can't be matched. My teammate Ashleigh and her husband Paul would also be in the area, so it was one big get-together, with six of us in total.

The Scarborough Pub green. It was an amazing

day, considering it was late winter...

Far too much food. I think in the end we barely

touched the dip platter on the right. Angela

and Belinda prepare to dig in.

After lunch, Ash and Paul had to head back up north, but the rest of us went to explore the area a little bit. I hadn't really seen much of Wollongong, and everyone else had grown up there, so they really were the best tour guides I could have asked for.

On Bulli Beach - pronounced 'bull-eye,' I found

that continuously pronouncing it 'bull-ee' was

sufficient to ruffle Angela's feathers. Naturally,

I kept doing it.

A little dog has the time of his life on the beach.

Loads of people brought their puppies for a

little romp.

Angela, Deanna, and Belinda. Charlie's Angels

pose - you're doing it wrong.

Those of you who know me well are aware of

my not-so-mild infatuation with big dogs. There

was an elderly gentleman on the beach who had

the most incredible Irish wolfhound.

So naturally, I made my way over to have a proper

creep. Er, pet.

A lone surfer out on the blue.

Deanna goes for a bit of a wander...

Wait, hang on - just had to make sure it was ok.

The girls took turns riding with me to

our various destinations.

The view from Bald Hill looking south.

That evening, we met up with John and Todd for the film, and after staying the night at Angela's parents' place, we went out for a deliciously gluttonous breakfast in the morning, before I took a solo drive back up north to Sydney.

I think this is the start of a beautiful tradition.