Gosh, I'm impressed!

Sea ice off the Poole coast. Temeratures of -4 to -6 degrees C during the day. Steve meeting DEATH (and not drinking for a week). A communique from the Anonymous Farrant. New guest commentators (good to hear from you, Nadine, Nicola and Jean). Plus the usual witicisms from the old faithfuls, Margaret, Ginge, Andy and Totton's own Poet Laureate, Frank. (Have I missed anyone? If so, sorry!). The reporting from home is getting more interesting than my poor attempts at travel journalism. Thanks for all the participation; we log in daily just to catch up. It still doesn't make me wish I was back there with you, though . . .

Not much more to report as this is very definitely a sedentary phase to our adventures. We did try and branch out further than the pool and the local beach bar with a boat trip to the neighbouring islands. Koh Chang itself is best described as a mountain jungle, a description more apparent when you look at it from the outside (like, on a boat) and watch a troop of howler monkeys break cover from the palm trees to mooch food from the passing tourists. I gather there's a lot of elephants lurking further up the mountain as well (and various ornithological-like creatures, but you know I'm not equipped to describe them without getting a bollocking from Andy). And on Tuesday I saw my first snake. Well part of one. I was just passing a waist high bush next to the beach beds when I saw something fall out of it. By the time I swilled an eyeball, its tail disappeared behind the bush. As I walked back round to get a better look, the bush jumped about a bit (as bushes are most definitely not wont to do!) and I just got got a glimpse of a green snake's tail disappearing into the top of the adjacent bush -- which means it must have bloody jumped up there! Why do I make such a big thing of such non-sighting? Because it was fast! Scarily fast! Forget all the soporific serpents in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The real thing really moves! Good job it was more afraid of me than I was of it. (Memo To Self: must visit the snake farm when I'm back in Bangkok.)

Anyway, the boat trip was a gentle affair. We made our way down to some of the larger islands south of Koh Chang such as Koh Wai and Koh Mak; all very jungly as well with pristine sandy beaches you could visit from the little motor boat if you wanted. There was snorkeling off Koh Rang at some of the last preserved coral reefs if you fancied (we stayed on the sun deck -- sedentary, remember?). And barbecue on the way back while the sun set and cast orange light on all the little private islands and their estates (now going for anything between half a billion to 4 billion Baht, according to our guide) (100 Baht = around 2 quid). Further in the distance we could make out the shadowy silhouette of the Cambodian mountains (although I think the coastline is still Thailand from where we were). Totally drained by watching everyone else's activity for 8 hours we went to bed at seven, exhausted.

Yesterday, we took a taxi to Baan (Baan = "village") Bang Bao; a fishing village on stilts, we were told by CavTours. Not what we expected: the "village" seemed to be an extension of a very long concrete pier with a lighthouse at the end. What seems to have happened (and I'm not sure if this is the case) is that a sort of floating town has grown fractally from each of the sides, originally with the same concrete pillars but then with wooden ones the further out you go. The whole affect is like an unplanned town where all the tourist shops and dive centres have accumulated in the "main street" (where all the visitors have to go) while new restaurants and sea bungalows complete with thatched roofs grow laterally outwards accessed along rickety wooden footpaths. Either way, sitting on said restaurant drinking white wine and eating scallops in garlic while the sun sets over the fishing boats is indescribably soothing.

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Today is our last day of indolence as we go back to Bangkok tomorrow. Pity, I was even getting used to the towel abusers and their kids . . . Tonight I think its a last piss up in Baan Kai Bai (which I now know is the name of our local, next-door village). I'm even getting used to rap music. Golly! I'll be so chilled you won't recognise me . . .