Day 72: Koh Phan-gan - Full Moon Throw-down

Neon paint smeared on skin, glow sticks encircling necks and wrists, cheap plastic hats and ketamine coursing through veins - they danced on picnic tables, bar patios and the midnight sand. A never-ending, undifferentiated thub-thump coursed from bar to bar in time with one’s heartbeat. At the water’s edge intoxicated males, recycled water back to the ocean. Bumbling, pale-haired girls let themselves be dragged along the beach, hand in wrist, by equally bumbling brown haired boys. I sipped from my plastic bucket filled with cheap rum, soda and M-150 surveying the human wreckage. The British teenagers sullying this Thai beach where getting on my nerves. Beside me, my compatriots (a British couple from Newcastle) put their eyes together with mine and collectively frowned a disproving 25 year old glance towards them immature teenagers. We were ready to go.

As easy and fun as it was to get in (10 people, back of a pickup truck chucking water bottles at the prostitutes along the strip), Hat Rin was another getting out. We moved from the beachfront to the clogged backstreets of restaurants and knick-knack stands, pressing through the zombiefied crowds. Dodging revelers, scammers and addicts we made our way to the main road. That symbolic sight of Thailand greeted us – lines upon lines of tuk-tuks ready to take this dross back to hideaways across the island. Their Thai drivers lounged in small groups chatting and smoking cigarettes waiting for the dawn. We were early – only four in the morning after all, but us tired and wanting to shed whatever collective regret for whatever we had become a part of, pushed on.

My acquaintances sidled up along the waiting drivers looking for one going our way. Not hard to find, but he wasn’t leaving for an hour and was charging 300 Baht. Ridiculousness, we knew what the local price was - a cool 55 Baht and we weren’t going to be swindled! Next driver, 250. Next 250, then 250 again. Next 300 – we weren’t getting anywhere, they were organized and we were their suckers. My friend Tom tried out his arguments, “hey man we took a taxi on Tuesday from here it was 55.” He flashed his spread hand twice for effect. “We’ll pay 150 that’s a fair price.” One finger, five fingers his hand said. “Go. Go. Good luck find driver 150,” the tuk tuk driver responded, waving his hand away. “No one give that price.” My friend kept up. “Man don’t play us like that, we know the score, we’re not dumb tourists you can rip off. We’ll give you 150 each. That’s 450 you’d be making.” The argument didn’t go down well. “No, out, out. I don’t want. You no pay. You walk.” This is point where the Madam got involved and when I say Madam, I mean a 300 pound, filthy talking middle-aged women covered in fake jewelry. Bringing forward her posse of tuk-tuk drivers she got in my friends face, poking him in the chest. “You drunk. What you say. Have one more drink.” She mimed tilting back a beer and guzzling it. “You drunk farang, you pay. It not much money.” Stubbornly my friend kept up. “Your driver wants us to pay 250 that’s a bullshit price, that’s dumb farang price. We’re not going for more than 150.” With that the Madam pushed my friend sending him off by saying, “you drunk you go.”

As on cue her band of tuk-tuk drivers pushed in surrounding him, one taking a stab upwards trying to connect. He responded with a drunken flurry that led a couple more drivers throwing him on the dirt road. His girlfriend at 5”10 and stick thin, forced herself in. The rest of the drivers committed throwing her on the ground, putting their boots to the both of them. It was now or never. I’d known these people for less than 12 hours. Yea, they were drunk and being unreasonable, sticking up for themselves, but now they were on the ground, massively outnumbered and being kicked into submission. Engage ridiculous reach. Time to time, being 6”5 with broad shoulders comes in useful. Especially when you have 5 or 6 pissed off, iced-up, Thais raring for a chance to knock up some representatives of farangs they had to take shit from night after night.

I knocked them off of my friends allowing them to get up and us to flee around the corner. But we didn’t get far. The same group or different group of drivers (it’s hard to tell at this point) pushed us up against the wall on the side of the road. We’re shoulder to shoulder with our arms extended warning them meth heads to come get some. They get it. We break through their encircling ring, and in the middle of the street I have two come out of nowhere and tackle me sideways into a standing motorcycle. Quickly I getup throwing out some damage - enough to make them hesitant about moving forward. Furiously I gather my compadres and flee around the corner and down the street, hopping into the back of a truck with a covered awning. It’s filled with foreigners waiting to leave. A short time later the driver comes around asking where we’re heading. He says 250. Without hesitation I get out my cash and pay it - all. No negotiating this time.