It's very hard to put into words the effect that tubing had on us all. Such a simplistic idea, with such disastrous consequences. We'd gone off on our 3rd trip down the river, met more lunatics and ran into some of the same lunatics. Buckets, caterpillars, rope swings, naked bodies, general lunacy.
Most people who know me, know I'd be a pretty seasoned drinker when it comes to alcohol, but this last day I went slightly over the top (the past 4 days to be honest) They probably should have just shown clips of me tubing instead of spending millions on those "Know the one that's one too many" Diageo advertisements. In truth, I was disgraceful. Everyone was, I suppose, but I can only speak for me, and B, she was a gimp legged disaster.
I won't lie, I remember nothing else about that day tubing, except B falling off a ladder into some water and me laughing hysterically. Probably should have tried saving her. Whoops. She was alright anyway, just about.
There was a serious amount of wandering around, bull shitting to strangers and acting the maggot. Oh, I stopped another fight with the Dave fella and cut the whole bottom of my foot sticking it out the back of a moving truck. That was on the way up now that I think of it, on the way back the truck was full but this gorgeous young lady was trying to get in. Now, for those of you who don't know, I'm a gentleman, so I let her in instead of me. It was then I copped something that made it the most memorable journey ever.
A hammock.
Yes, a hammock was hanging from the inside roof. Considering this was basically the old Philippine styled jeepnies with seats either sides and nothing in the middle, except yours truly, hanging from a hammock flying down dirt tracks and talking to my imaginary dragon, it was made that bit more heroic.
More shite went down in Q-Bar and a few other shops around and eventually, for the first time in 4 days, I made it back to my hut to sleep.
They say what goes up, must come down. Well fuck me, is that the truth. I hadn't touched a drop of a bucket and after 4 hours I felt like I was being skinned alive by thousands of pencil parers. My head felt heavy as a bowling ball and like it was getting smashed with a sledgehammer. I was as weak as raped kitten.
I'm sorry about the brutal imagery, but ladies and gents, the truth hurts. Fuck me, it hurts.
Vang Vieng, the nut house of the Peoples Democratic (Laughed at) Republic of Laos, was seeing the last of us gang for now anyway.
Nicky was off to a full moon party in Ko Phangnan, Thailand, Graham and Laura were off to Phi Phi, The Jock and Andrew were hitting Cambodia and the Vikings disappeared into thin air. Everyone else we'd met along the way were gone before we could say goodbye.
So, now the long, long, oh so long journey to Vientiane. It's supposed to be a stop over but we're gonna have to get an extension on our Thai Visas so going by Laos time, we could be there a week. Lovely, a little 14 seater, I wonder how many they'll fit on this?
It's a proper shite ride back but I expected nothing less. I was a bucket of Lego, in bloody bits.
Got chatting with this Canadian on the way back. Mallory was her name. She was well pretty and dead sound too. It helped to have someone to talk to through this horrid time as B was well sick of my mug at this stage.
We decided to grab a triple room to cut the cost. It was dire. Worked out at 3 euros each a night so couldn't give out too much and I wouldn't have if I wasn't having the worst come down of my life. Fecking M150 stuff is dangerous, at one stage I thought I was dying. My life flashed before my eyes. I've had so many awful haircuts....
Anyway, I couldn't even eat my mashed potato, I hadn't had any since I left Dublin and I couldn't eat it. It's like the goblins in my head were taking the piss, making me think I wanted it, then laughing. Kind of the way kids play "keep away" with the quiet kid in school.
Things go a bit weird here, so bear with me.
There's 3 beds I'm in the middle, B is to my left and Mallory is to my right. I'm proper losing the plot, but I'm trying to keep a cool head in front of the girdles. I'm sweating buckets ( pun intended) and having serious withdrawals. Next thing I know, I'm playing "Connect 4" in my head, against myself, and losing. That's the worst part as I'm the Connect 4 master, well I was.... confusing...
B is climbing the walls thinking shes a cocker spaniel or something, I think she's caught rabies from too much kissing frogs coz she's foaming at the mouth. I'm too concerned with my own situation though. I start playing "Gas Panic" by my boys Oasis, in my head to help me through it. Worked before in Bratislava when I was seriously hungover but this was a whole new kettle of epileptic fish.....
I wake up in one of those mini spaz attacks, when you think you've been running and you fall off the Golden Gate bridge or that. I'm sweating I look around, then, I near shit meself.
I've got no clothes on, and I'm lying in Mallory's bed but get this, no Mallory.....
Oh dear.
Seems I've thrown my clothes out the window. I don't know why I'm in the other bed though, I have my theories, mostly to do with her already being gone and wanting to get away from my sweaty sheets.
Anyway, I'm still in a bundle, it's easily the worst I've ever felt, since the time I climbed Kinabalu, poxy mountains. Seriously though, it's a stinker, it isn't a hangover, it's an experience!
I have to get out for a walk, there's construction work going on here and I have enough drilling in my head without adding this to it....
Vientiane is the most boring capital city in the world. They don't even have a Mc Donalds which brings to an end my run of Mackers in foreign countries, it was 12 by the way.
I'm strolling around looking for about 6 lengths of rope when wouldn't ya know it,
"There's Dave" sitting there shootin' the breeze. Normality, a little normality.
It's at this point I realize my finger has gone septic. Damn you Dave.
I have to think quick, I've got a window of time to fix it, which was 4 days ago.
I splash out of antiseptic hand rubs and literally squirt the whole contents onto this little pinky finger (can you still call it the pinky if it's the color of a badly bruised Kermit the Frog?) Now to play the waiting game....
I'll fly through Vientiane and getting the Visas 'n that in the next edition, after that we go back to Thailand, in particular, Krabi via Bangkok.
Thanks for reading my ramblings.
Most people who know me, know I'd be a pretty seasoned drinker when it comes to alcohol, but this last day I went slightly over the top (the past 4 days to be honest) They probably should have just shown clips of me tubing instead of spending millions on those "Know the one that's one too many" Diageo advertisements. In truth, I was disgraceful. Everyone was, I suppose, but I can only speak for me, and B, she was a gimp legged disaster.
I won't lie, I remember nothing else about that day tubing, except B falling off a ladder into some water and me laughing hysterically. Probably should have tried saving her. Whoops. She was alright anyway, just about.
There was a serious amount of wandering around, bull shitting to strangers and acting the maggot. Oh, I stopped another fight with the Dave fella and cut the whole bottom of my foot sticking it out the back of a moving truck. That was on the way up now that I think of it, on the way back the truck was full but this gorgeous young lady was trying to get in. Now, for those of you who don't know, I'm a gentleman, so I let her in instead of me. It was then I copped something that made it the most memorable journey ever.
A hammock.
Yes, a hammock was hanging from the inside roof. Considering this was basically the old Philippine styled jeepnies with seats either sides and nothing in the middle, except yours truly, hanging from a hammock flying down dirt tracks and talking to my imaginary dragon, it was made that bit more heroic.
More shite went down in Q-Bar and a few other shops around and eventually, for the first time in 4 days, I made it back to my hut to sleep.
They say what goes up, must come down. Well fuck me, is that the truth. I hadn't touched a drop of a bucket and after 4 hours I felt like I was being skinned alive by thousands of pencil parers. My head felt heavy as a bowling ball and like it was getting smashed with a sledgehammer. I was as weak as raped kitten.
I'm sorry about the brutal imagery, but ladies and gents, the truth hurts. Fuck me, it hurts.
Vang Vieng, the nut house of the Peoples Democratic (Laughed at) Republic of Laos, was seeing the last of us gang for now anyway.
Nicky was off to a full moon party in Ko Phangnan, Thailand, Graham and Laura were off to Phi Phi, The Jock and Andrew were hitting Cambodia and the Vikings disappeared into thin air. Everyone else we'd met along the way were gone before we could say goodbye.
So, now the long, long, oh so long journey to Vientiane. It's supposed to be a stop over but we're gonna have to get an extension on our Thai Visas so going by Laos time, we could be there a week. Lovely, a little 14 seater, I wonder how many they'll fit on this?
It's a proper shite ride back but I expected nothing less. I was a bucket of Lego, in bloody bits.
Got chatting with this Canadian on the way back. Mallory was her name. She was well pretty and dead sound too. It helped to have someone to talk to through this horrid time as B was well sick of my mug at this stage.
We decided to grab a triple room to cut the cost. It was dire. Worked out at 3 euros each a night so couldn't give out too much and I wouldn't have if I wasn't having the worst come down of my life. Fecking M150 stuff is dangerous, at one stage I thought I was dying. My life flashed before my eyes. I've had so many awful haircuts....
Anyway, I couldn't even eat my mashed potato, I hadn't had any since I left Dublin and I couldn't eat it. It's like the goblins in my head were taking the piss, making me think I wanted it, then laughing. Kind of the way kids play "keep away" with the quiet kid in school.
Things go a bit weird here, so bear with me.
There's 3 beds I'm in the middle, B is to my left and Mallory is to my right. I'm proper losing the plot, but I'm trying to keep a cool head in front of the girdles. I'm sweating buckets ( pun intended) and having serious withdrawals. Next thing I know, I'm playing "Connect 4" in my head, against myself, and losing. That's the worst part as I'm the Connect 4 master, well I was.... confusing...
B is climbing the walls thinking shes a cocker spaniel or something, I think she's caught rabies from too much kissing frogs coz she's foaming at the mouth. I'm too concerned with my own situation though. I start playing "Gas Panic" by my boys Oasis, in my head to help me through it. Worked before in Bratislava when I was seriously hungover but this was a whole new kettle of epileptic fish.....
I wake up in one of those mini spaz attacks, when you think you've been running and you fall off the Golden Gate bridge or that. I'm sweating I look around, then, I near shit meself.
I've got no clothes on, and I'm lying in Mallory's bed but get this, no Mallory.....
Oh dear.
Seems I've thrown my clothes out the window. I don't know why I'm in the other bed though, I have my theories, mostly to do with her already being gone and wanting to get away from my sweaty sheets.
Anyway, I'm still in a bundle, it's easily the worst I've ever felt, since the time I climbed Kinabalu, poxy mountains. Seriously though, it's a stinker, it isn't a hangover, it's an experience!
I have to get out for a walk, there's construction work going on here and I have enough drilling in my head without adding this to it....
Vientiane is the most boring capital city in the world. They don't even have a Mc Donalds which brings to an end my run of Mackers in foreign countries, it was 12 by the way.
I'm strolling around looking for about 6 lengths of rope when wouldn't ya know it,
"There's Dave" sitting there shootin' the breeze. Normality, a little normality.
It's at this point I realize my finger has gone septic. Damn you Dave.
I have to think quick, I've got a window of time to fix it, which was 4 days ago.
I splash out of antiseptic hand rubs and literally squirt the whole contents onto this little pinky finger (can you still call it the pinky if it's the color of a badly bruised Kermit the Frog?) Now to play the waiting game....
I'll fly through Vientiane and getting the Visas 'n that in the next edition, after that we go back to Thailand, in particular, Krabi via Bangkok.
Thanks for reading my ramblings.
No comments:
Post a Comment