The rain

When you’re travelling, you have the freedom to get up when you want, do what you want, eat what you want, whenever you like with no responsibilities. No dishes to take out the dishwasher, no washing to do, no cleaning, no cooking, no job to go to…you get the idea. We definitely made the most of it, getting up and lazing about, drifting through the market finding presents and postcards for everyone at home.

We started with a spot of lunch on the beach.

Pad Thai, classic.

I’m not sure what mine was, but it had salad, chicken and some fish in it. Whatever it was, it tasted good!

Polly had a banana and Nutella pancake (I know you’re getting bored of them but I wish you could try it!)

After lunch we paced the island for a bit to let the food settle.

We were drawn like magpies to.. “Oooo shiny!”

There was a deep rumble, and the clouds darkened. Stalls started to shut up, plastic sheeting was dragged over the tops and the streets started to empty. We took our cue to leave.

Sitting on our balcony, we wrote our postcards home while the heavens opened.

The rain came down, in torrents.

We weren’t amused.

We were sitting there, feeling very sorry for ourselves, with our knees tucked up under our chins and our stomachs rumbling away.

Polly was dozing in the room, so Harrie and I braved the rain and went on the hunt for a 7 Eleven (like a Tesco Metro but on an island, trust me it’s like a lagoon in the middle of the desert.)

We set out with our hoods up and determination across our faces. Some of the locals didn’t mind braving the weather, to say “hi” as we went on our way.

The rain was warm, we had braced ourselves for the horrible downpour of the English rain. This was actually fairly pleasant.

When we hit the town, it seemed that we were the only ones affected by the weather. We made it to the 7 Eleven after pushing our way through the numerous bars, calling out to us that they could give us a good deal. H and I ended up grabbing ice creams from the 7 Eleven and walking the streets for a bit, dancing in the rain.

It wasn’t long before we were stopped by a couple of guys promoting Banana Bar. Harrie pulled me aside and explained that she had heard about Banana Bar, and really wanted to know where it was. The name was enough for me. My family and I have been going to Val d’Isere (Val), in France, for Christmas for as long as I can remember. There was a bar in Val called Bananas which was our favourite place, the owner Ricky became a good friend and let us bring marshmallows to toast on the fire. You could find us there every night drinking Freestylers (lethal drinks containing a heavy dose of vodka and some syrups) and chatting to the guys behind the bar. Unfortunately, just before Christmas this year Bananas burnt down after a chimney fire. We were heart broken. To find a bar with the same name on a random island in Thailand, I had to see what it was about. We looked at our clothes, what can only be described as Pyjamas hung off our bodies. With no make-up on our faces, we decided that we would go in to see the place then get some food and go home.

No such luck, we were taken up to the bar by a lovely guy called Jamie and perched ourselves on bar stools. I scanned the menu and saw Daiquiris, in any flavour, 2 for 1, in buckets. Could it get any better?!

Our drinking was interrupted by a tall, blonde guy called Ben. We chatted for a while and he invited us over to play Beer Pong, neither of us had ever played before so agreed.We finished our drinks as we watched the guys play, what had we got ourselves in for?

We were paired up, I was thrown in with James (who liked people to call him Will, weird but we went with it) and Harrie was with Liam (a scouser, need I say more?) The games began. After what the boys said was the longest game in the history of Beer Pong, Will and I came out victorious.

Did you really have any doubt in me?

After that, we had to go out and celebrate. What better place than the beach…

After taking this photo of H, half asleep and sitting on the sand, I realised it was time for beddie-bise. After swapping numbers with Will to ‘Call me maybe’ (had-to-be-there-moment) we went off to our lovely little hut.

Minus the food that we went out for in the first place…