By Jim Rixon

Sa, the next installment. I believe the last time I wrote was just before setting off to meet my Friend Tom in the magic islands of South Thailand, and for my humble participation in a monster party, one of my most favoured pastimes............................

It was Friday, my last day at school before my one week holiday, and I was as excited as a student would be the day before the summer holidays, and I don’t think I was hiding it too well. All my students could tell I was eager to get away, and when questioned I told them of my holiday to Thailand and of my excitement. After promising to send a postcard to the school, and denying requests from my elementary class to buy and bring back twenty four souvenirs, I punched out on the clock and almost ran out of school.

How ironic, I thought. When I was at school, I wanted nothing more than to be out of it, I clearly remember that feeling of the last day before holidays and half terms. And look where I wind up............ Right back where I started!!!

The reason why I was so amped up for my trip was this; after my mate Tom went off I must admit it was quite lonely, not in the sense of no-one being around, just in the way of not having anyone on a related level around I guess. School was fine and life in Phnom Penh was becoming routine. Which isn't a bad thing, even though routine was one of the things I tried to leave at home. But the after work times just weren't there. The guest house was pretty quiet and I'd discovered problems with meeting travellers that are coming and going; one being you always have to give the same introductory talks, "where's good to go?" "How long have you been here blah blah blah" And the other being that when you do meet some fresh and funky people its usually only a matter of days before they're setting off again, and then you're back to square one.

I also started feeling some homesickness, I was missing my family, my little sister and nephew in particular, as they are in very cool stages of growing up, toddler and teenager. Our dog, Meg, man o man how I miss that big white mutt!!

I missed my friends as well, and our excursions into the urban Mecca that is London, there are some good nights to be had here but nothing on the scale of the mighty clubs and music of the big smoke. Strange that when you're at home you desire to be away, and when you are, you sometimes desire to be back at home again............!

I have a bunch of Khmer friends, but you can only have a certain extent of fun with them. In my school, at 23 I'm by far the youngest teacher there, the rest are 30-40 years old, and nice as they are, their ideas of pursuing fun are not as intense or wide ranging as mine. There is the head teacher, an Australian guy called Cam who's a young hearted 30 year old who will pop up later in this email, with whom I can have a laugh and a beer with. But the majority of the expatriate community here are all about ten years in front of me, and I find when talking to them I'm always honest and genuine and saying the right things, which gets a little tiring sometimes, I'd love to be able to sit down and just talk utter bullshit to someone for a while.

And worse, when I'm left alone with my own thoughts, I start to think about my ex-girlfriend, who I busted up with just before coming to Asia. I won't bore you with the story, but will say when I am free to think about it, I do. Over and over, and that’s also quite tiring and VERY depressing.

So anyway, all of that can get shafted, coz I'm off to meet my best mate and party hard.

I relaxed at the guesthouse for the evening, woke the next day and cruised down to the taxi car pick up point, where I would go south west from Phnom Penh over rough roads, four rivers and stunning scenery to Koh Kong, on the border with Thailand.

And this is when I rediscovered again that I am NOT a morning person.

As you would imagine, people with no money are plenty eager to get their hands on some, and this rule applies strongest with Cambodian taxi and moto drivers. The moto-taxis harmlessly hassle you whenever you're out for a walk, but when tourists arrive by boat or bus in the capital its like a feeding frenzy, everyone grabbing you and your bag and trying to usher you to their motos. And when there's a collection of taxi cars, with each driver waiting to fill his car to max limits, you are a very wanted person, or, more appropriately your money is very wanted. This you learn to brush off and live with after so long, but this one morning they went too far.

It was six am, a Khmer friend had given me a ride to the taxi point and as I stepped off the bike the drivers swarmed around me and started blurting out "come with me, come with me!!" They put their hands all over you trying to usher you towards different cars, in all directions. One guy, unaware of my morning temper imbalance, had grabbed my forearm with a considerably tight grip, and was really tugging hard. I told him very sternly to let go, but he kept gibbering on and tugging.

Enough. I snapped, dropped my rucksack, grabbed the wrist of the hand that was gripping my arm, twisted it round hard and swung him round into a telephone booth. He landed and sat with blood coming from his head, and I began shouting incoherently at him and all the others. What I was screaming won’t be repeated, as I know my dear old Nan will be reading this. I love you Nan!!! The rest of the Cambodians were a little shocked and didn't move for a while, but I could slowly sense them realising that they shouldn't let a foreigner get away with this. Highly outnumbered and losing my rage I thought now would be a good time to scarper. Luckily my Khmer friend was still there, watching in disbelief, so I carefully ushered him and myself back to his bike before any more trouble started.

Not a good way to start the day! My friend took me to another pick up point, I paid a much less frantic driver, and took my place in the front passenger seat of the Toyota saloon. There were a middle aged, well dressed Chinese couple occupying the back seat, who didn't respond when I said "easy now..."

I couldn't figure out what we were waiting for, then, it became apparent. Another Cambodian kid opened my door and squeezed in next to me, two of us, on the front passenger seat.

In my best broken Khmer language I asked what was the deal?

It turns out there's actually a six person capacity deal on these suckers cars, so they can get extra $$$. Two on the front passenger seat, and four in the back seat. And the Chinese dudes had paid for four seats, so had the back all to themselves. We started to drive out of town and embark on our six to eight hour journey. I could not believe it. Because of this punk money concept in our societies, here I was, with a very smug comfortable Chinese couple spread out in the back, and a Cambodian kid sat on one of my legs and a hand brake stuck up my ass for the next bumpy seven hours. Brilliant.

The journey was made more bearable with the help of my minidisc player, the beautiful scenery and an extremely good book called "The railway man", by a guy called Eric Lomax. If you ever see it you should check it out, it’s brilliant.

It’s about a young Scottish boy growing up around the same time that steam locomotives were in their full use and glory. He develops a fierce, analytical passion for the machines, and makes the steam powered beasts his main hobby, past time and interest. As world war two breaks out, he decides to enlist in the Royal Corps of Signals, and is sent to defend Singapore against the Japanese, in the name of the British Empire.

Singapore of course fell to the Japanese, and most of the allied forces became POWs. They were kept terribly, and made to go up north to Thailand to begin construction of the Thai - Burmese railway. Ironically, his one passion had now turned into his worst nightmare. He was beaten, starved and tortured for information. They say one POW died for every one metre of track laid, and it’s a long track. But, amazingly, he stayed alive and lived through it, and returned to England.

After fifty years of feeling haunted by his harrowing experiences, something amazing took place.

He met one of his captors and torturers.

It is a book of amazing truth and humanity. I highly recommend it to anyone.

I arrived at the Koh Kong border, went through passport control and once again entered Thailand. It’s strange when you do this, because everything feels a little bit different. Thailand is a much more organised, cleaner and wealthier country, and you feel this instantly as you step over the border. A little more civilised I guess. I caught a minibus taxi north to the Trat province, and checked into a very nice friendly guesthouse that I had stayed in before. The people there treat you like family, and they have HOT SHOWERS !!!! Anything you want you can get for yourself, and its up to you to write it down in your own bill. Can you imagine that back home!?!

I got comfy and checked my email, to see what was happening with Tom. The Full moon party on Ko Phan Nagn Island should be the day after tomorrow, giving me ample time to get to Bangkok the next day then catch the night train down south.

Travelling about a thousand miles for a party, quality!

I received an email from Tom, and read it, in horror, shock and disbelief. The party was tonight! A different date than before! There was no way I could get there on this night, so, I missed the party. Absolutely gutted.

So, here I was in Trat, with a week off work and nothing to do. I didn't really want to continue down south, as I thought it was just spending money for the sake of it. I went up to my room, extremely pished off, and lay on my bed and lost myself in negative thoughts and feelings. No party, no mission, homesickness, ex-girl, all of it.

Does anyone find that feeling depressed is, in a twisted way satisfying? It has a numbing, complacent and alluring taste to it. But after a few hours I was depressed about feeling depressed, and decided on some mind control.

I grabbed a shower and headed downstairs to the main lounge area, where a rather large man was sat, watching the TV. He was about sixty, and with his big white beard and moustache he bore a small resemblance to Santa Clause.

I introduced myself and met 'Wolfgang', from Austria. I had some really good conversation with him, and found out that he lives on Koh Chang, a holiday resort island, about an hours ferry journey south of where we were, at the top of the Gulf of Thailand. He had met a beautiful young Thai girl there, and after she stole his heart he set up a business there, a bar I believe. In Thailand however, the business must be set up under the name of a Thai national, as foreigners are very restricted in these matters. So it is helpful for your dream if you have a Thai wife. Business went well and Wolfgang was very happy and content in his new life, until, a few years later he caught her kissing another man, a Thai man who worked for them. It all turned sour and she told him to leave. She of course was in control of the entire business and their home, as everything was in her name. He didn't have a legal leg to stand on.

Poor old Wolfgang, what an awful thing to happen.

But now he speaks of it without bitterness, which I find inspiring. When you get shat on, you've just gotta carry on right?

I got extremely drunk with Wolfgang that night, and remember us singing loudly to Phil Collins, who was in concert on a music TV channel.

The next day was a good day. A couple from England turned up to stay at the guesthouse. They are the same age as me, and from Surrey. We instantly hit it off and had a good time out around town, having lunch at a KFC. mmmmmmmm.

Then, we met a Thai guy who came to stay, he is the brother of the lady who runs the guest house, and he too, has a small beach bungalow, bar and restaurant business on an island called Ko Maak, which is one of three islands just south of Koh Chang.

He was with a Belgian guy called Peter. Peter was about 25, and worked as a dive master on the same island, and was a really chilled out diamond geezer.

We all went out for drinks and food that night, at an open-air night market. It was an evening of laughing and exchanging good travelling stories, Peter had some classics and tells them well, but I'm not sure if I can repeat them now. (!)

That night, Nu, the Thai guy invited us all down to his beach resort for a week. And so, in the way that it does, fate led me into another adventure................................................

Paradise found.

So, I'm staying at the 'Guy guest house' in the Trat province of Thailand.

The friends I've met so far are an English couple, Jamie and Elaine, who I found out had been staying in the same guesthouse that I live in, in Phnom Penh! I hadn't met them formally, but when they mentioned it I do recall walking past them a few times, and now here we are meeting in Thailand, about to embark on another adventure, that’s the funny way it works out here. They really lifted my spirits, it’s wicked to chat about relative tings with people that are on the same level as you, it’s been a while since I've done that. We chat about the things we miss from back home; marmite and cereal, the same clubs we've been to, and amazingly, they had also stayed on Bottle beach in south Thailand, and knew a lot of the staff and long time stayers that I did.

Also there was Peter, the super-chilled dive master from Belgium, who was with his Thai friend, 'Nu'.

The same evening we all went out together and indulged in many bottles of 'Chaing' (filthy Thai beer with tremendous hangover delivering chemicals in it, ooh la la.) was the same night that Nu invited us back to his place for beers and bamboo bongs. He has a wicked room above a small warehouse, its very chilled with an awesome view of the local river. One big room, that’s decorated in a superb chilled natural art kinda way. This is his place in Trat, but he and Peter mainly stay on the island of Ko Maak, below Ko Chang at the top of the Gulf of Thailand. Nu has his mini beach bungalow business and Peter does his diving down there, working for an independent company.

As we all relaxed later that evening at the chill pad, Nu was rolling out some of his past at our request. I had noticed that he walked with a slight limp, and asked if he would mind telling me why that was.

Now, Nu looks like the Thai version of an English hippie, if you can imagine that. So when he started to explain to me that he used to be a fresh new lawyer straight out of university, I was quite surprised.

One way or another he ended up working with a friend on a very sensitive case, involving some local gangsters, and when he refused to back down on the case he found himself being ambushed, trying to escape then being shot three times by a 9mm handgun. He then lifted up his shirt and showed me the three scars, back and front entry and exit wounds, one through his lower abdomen, one through his lower ribs and one through his pelvis which has given him the permanent limp.

I sat there in total amazement, then spared some time to realise, that to my knowledge this is the first person I've ever met that’s been shot.

After this happened, he choose a more chilled life of peace and freedom, and now he has his thing on the island and seems happy, and taking more time to appreciate his days and what’s really important in life, after his close brush with death.

No one really had anything to say after that. (!) You can't really top that can you ?! So Nu broke the silence by inviting the three of us, myself, Jamie and Elaine, to go back to Ko Maak with him and Peter for a week. He explained that the island wasn't busy right now, it was coming towards the end of low season and all the inhibitors were doing preparation work and repairs on their respective mini-resorts, but the weather was nice and it would be cheap.

I looked at my English compadres, and they gave me an encouraging nod, what the hell, LETS GO TO THAT BEACH AND HAVE US SOME RAYS AND MARGHERITAS!!!! Flava.

So the next day were and eating breakfast and I was once again excited about a mission.

Myself, Elaine and Jamie got into one taxi-pick up, and Nu and Pete followed in another, loaded with food supplies and...... Oh my God.......... loads of Chaing beer.

We travelled southeast for about thirty minutes, towards the coast and ferry port. There are many ferries that take an hour to get to the popular, expensive tourist Island of Ko Chang, but the three smaller islands south of there, one of them being Ko Maak have a three hour ferry that only goes once every two days. As with most Asian transport, the ferry looked about as safe as a burning building, but with no other choice I boarded happily. It was a semi large boat with two open-air tiers, the top one being loaded with deck chairs................. sweet. I got comfy, put my headphones on and started listening to the new Chilli Peppers album, what a fantastic piece of work. If you haven't heard it, check it out, you wont be disappointed.

This is the feeling I love, rucksack at your side with your life in it, friends that you've only known for two days, heading into paradise islands with only your imagination to paint a picture of what it's gonna look like. It's an adventurous feeling, a liberating feeling, the feeling of heading into the unknown with only good vibes in your soul. That’s the funk.

The weather was slightly cloudy, but that’s nice on a boat ride, this time I had sun cream, no more light sabre stylee for me. After cruising past an amazing view of Ko Chang, two hours into the journey we started seeing clusters of small uninhabited islands, and the slightly larger island of Ko Maak in the distance, the sun was very slowly starting to set and the sky was turning that blissful orange-pink colour. Groovy groovy groovy.

We finally came into dock at a tiny harbour and there were many locals there to greet us, all with smiles and hellos.

There was a lady at the dock, with a cockney English accent who was there to meet Nu and Pete, and also their new tag-alongs, us. and a young lad, who I didn't meet formally straight away, but he looked really familiar, although I couldn't place him.

We helped our friends off the boat with all the supplies, walked to the end of the small pier and loaded it and ourselves in to the most ingenious, original car I've ever seen.

Nu greeted his Thai friend and business partner, Naan.

Naan was the driver and creator of this astounding sight. He had basically got his hands on a clapped out car, repaired the engine and chassis, and taken off the entire shell, and rebuilt it all out of wood! It could be described in no other way than "The wooden car."

We pulled off and started heading towards our part of the island. Ko Maak is a relatively tiny island, with no major development, only a few hundred residents, a few small shops and a dozen or so mini-beach bungalow resorts, you could easily walk around the island in half a day.

On the 'wooden' car journey, I introduced myself to the young lad who seemed familiar on the boat dock. It turns out his name is Mark; he's eighteen and the son of the cockney lady. When I asked him where he was from, low and behold he replied "St Albans", the town next to mine, where I work and play. I asked him if he knew of 'The Horn', a music venue and bar where I work in the evenings when I'm back home.

"Yes" he said, " I've worked there a couple of nights as a sound engineer".

So, this is why he looked familiar, I've probably walked past this geezer a few times while I've been working at the bar, back in Blighty, and now, I see him again here, on some remote island in The Gulf of Thailand, thousands of miles from home. The world is a tiny place when you travel.

When we arrived at our place after a small journey it was pretty much dark, and I couldn't make out much. I could tell that were right in front of the ocean, as the moon lit up a bright streak across it and I could feel the sand between my toes. The moon also provided enough light to make out some coconut trees, but that's all I saw of our surroundings for now.

We were lead into a semi sized wooden bar area, and sat down while our hosts rushed around preparing dinner.

Here there were some more Thais, also really friendly. For the time being this was Naan's workshop as well, (The creator of the wooden car and a highly skilled carpenter) while the small, beachside resort was repaired and prepared for the oncoming season. So for now we happily planted ourselves here and there, some tunes were bought out and the dreaded Chaing started to get cracked open.

I chatted to Shelly, the cockney lady, who was a bit full on but overall a cool old lass, who's currently developing her dream of opening up a massage hut/parlour on the beach. She learnt the ways of the massage Jedi on a course in Thailand, and now wishes to rub oil all over people for a living. Something I wouldn't mind getting into myself, although all my customers would have to be stunningly gorgeous supermodels, except I wouldn't have that J. LO bird around, coz she's a bit too much of a muppet.

I also chatted to her son Mark, mostly about what’s going on back in St Albans. He's only been out for a week, is staying for three then going back to finish a college course in sound engineering. After that I think I've convinced him to bugger off and do a Mark Warner season. I think I sold it quite well, or more honestly it sold itself; beer, beautiful women, sandy beaches................. All a young man needs.

I'm not usually a fish eater, but on this occasion I had to bend the rules, as fish was all they had. The Thai ladies brought out a big plate of salad, with a funky, creamy dressing, some stir fried vegetables and then.................... the biggest bloody fish I've ever seen.

It was a barracuda, and it bent around a huge plate, not even looking cooked, still completely intact and looking as if it had been plucked straight out of the ocean. Gross.

The Thai lady flopped out a mama sized shiny knife and began hacking the fish into portions, in quite a scary way.

We chowed down and I must say it wasn't bad, more meaty than fishy, and all washed don with the heavenly taste and worrying thought of Chaing beer.

Slowly, as the night drifted on, my mind became a haze.

I had a big grin on my face, as I was very happy about my current situation. Twenty hours before now I had absolutely no idea I would be in a wooden car, driving to a beach on a Thai island, spending time with a Belgian man, a cockney lady and her St Albans son, some Thais and an English couple, eating barracuda and talking about massage oil.

We had a shortage of bungalows that were in a fit state to sleep in, so I happily offered to sleep in one of the bars hammocks, with a tiny, super cute beach dog puppy on my lap to keep me company. Pass out stage was inevitable in minutes.

The next morning I awoke at sunrise to the most stunning sight. I was in the middle of a tropical paradise, lush dense bush and coconut trees all around. Our small, basic resort was in a clearing, a stones throw from the beach.

The ocean was crispy, calm and bright blue in the morning light, and in the distance were randomly placed other, smaller islands, providing a fantastic "Jims in paradise " feeling. The beach in front of us curved round for a mile or so, before it led round the corner of the island.

I sat in my hammock for an hour or so before the others started to rise, thinking, "this is the dope!", and surprisingly, my head wasn't feeling too bad.

It was this morning that I met J.C., an American man of about 60, who had spent a lot of his life on Hawaii, but now resides here on Ko Maak.

He is one of the most complex men I've ever met. Some of the things I learnt about him were these; In his younger days he had spent some time smuggling diamonds from Belgium to the USA, and told us about the various smuggling methods, hidden pockets in coats, having diamonds woven into your hair then wearing a hat. Smuggling stories always fascinate me. He also has a past in the cocaine business, and claims to have met Howard Marks in the early seventies, and later a very profitable construction business on Hawaii, but one day everything changed for him, and he didn't go into too much detail, but he says he just got fed up with the life he was living, and gave away two million dollars of his personal fortune to various organisations and charities, kept enough for himself and moved out to Asia to start life again.

It was here that his life transformed into a strict and enjoyed regime of good health. He does Yoga every morning, jogs down the beach, eats the bare minimum of healthy food, meditates and practises Raiki (I think), the power of spiritual healing. Since he left Hawaii he tells me about some really intense health programs he practised, fasting for days and drinking only water, in order for all of the bad shit in your body to be full flushed and cleaned out.

He has endless interesting stories to tell, and some I find myself questioning the validity of, but he tells them with sincerity and honesty, in no way trying to impress others of himself.

And this was the way the week on Ko Maak proceeded, having quality conversation with interesting people, myself, Jamie, Elaine, Peter and Mark, laughing lots and exchanging travelling stories and talking about the same places we had been to, talking about back home and the state of the Belgium Government.

Listening intently to the stories of seventies England from Shelly, listening to J.C.s amazing tales, and hearing our Thai friends talking about their way of life, and comparing them with home. Eating good food and drinking good liquor, reading books and playing cards, playing catch with the beach dogs and lazing about in hammocks. Walking up and down the beach, playing on the rope swings the Thais had put up on coconut trees that hang right over the ocean, so you can climb half way up the leaning trees, and jump off hanging on for dear life to the rope, swinging out at super speed then releasing your grip and falling into the blue sea. We helped the Thai boys with their repairs of the beach bungalows, using only the natural resources around us. Chopping down small trees, skinning them of bark and cutting them to the right size for support beams, and pinning together dried out palm tree leaves for the roofing. I learnt a lot from Naan that week, and now I'm pretty sure that if I were stuck on a desert island, as long as I had a decent knife, I could probably make quite a badass shack for myself. We went for walks around the island and saw snakes and scorpions, all pretty harmless as far as I could tell.

The week was one of the best I've ever had, and the cheapest. Because the island wasn't fully up and running, and I didn't even have a bungalow, and we helped our Thai friends, we ended up paying 500 baht for the week, that’s about eight quid for a week in paradise. That my friends, is the boom-diggy.

I think about destiny and fate in this instance, I was gutted about missing the party with Tom, but had I gone, I would have never had this amazing week with these amazing people, and with fate and destiny on my mind, I concluded that if I had stayed with my ex-girlfriend and gone to N.Z., then I would never have had any of these experiences that I write to you about so fondly now.

Next, dirt bikes and casinos.