Happy Christmas!

Ko Tao - Xmas 2006

It's technically boxing day, but am still full of Xmas spirit and several beers, a strawberry daiquiri and a mojito. We've had a lovely, strange Christmas, exploring Ko Tao, trying to a find a beach for some sunbathing and eating lots of good, expensive food. We've given ourselves three days grace from the budget which we're undoubtedly tripling by the day. Our resort is practically the most expensive on the island. I feel like an interloper in all this supposed luxury and Dan is determined to prove it isn't value for money. We get free jasmine tea every afternoon which wins me over every day, despite the fact that there is no hot water. We've spent lots of time being peaceful, then ruining it by talking nonsense, looking at the sea, singing Fairy Tale of New York on Xmas eve on our balcony (Dan was a reluctant Shane Mcgowan, I was a very enthusiastic Kirsty Macoll)

The resort is called Sensi Paradise Resort, and paradise was hard won after the two-hour infernal journey to the island by jet cat. The gulf of Thailand is swimming in excess water at the moment after a late monsoon and the typhoon that hit the Phillipines recently. A funny little man warned us about the swell in Bangkok (i've really got to avoid these presagers of doom that make a beeline for us as we're about to embark on big journeys). We watched the dawn break from the pier on the mainland and saw the most beautiful, calm pink sea. Within minutes of setting off the wretched catamaran was bouncing around like a fairground ride. Worse than the Mexican hat, or even the waltzers, but with the same insistant fear of certain death. I thought I could cope.

They played a movie - the senstively chosen Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift - to distract us from our purgatory at sea and I tried to concentrate on the high speed races. Then the men on board started to vomit (it's always the men first, it really is) and whimper and moan. I can cope, I've been on more Brittany Ferry rides than Judith Chalmers and I have earned my sea legs in mamouth maritime drinking parties on several French exchanges - I was feeling almost cocky. Then I looked at Dan, who looked back with such terror and gripped my hand in the same way I grip his when I'm on a plane. We were a pitch and roll away from becoming a shark's breakfast. It took two hours more pitching, rolling, smashing waves, horizon corkscrewing in and out of focus and Dan joining in with the Mexican wave of sickness (that he so vividly describes) for us to reach the island shore. Paradise is hard won, I can tell you. And no amount of free jasmine tea in the afternoon or Christmas song-singing will take away the nagging thought that to get back to the mainland, and oh one day, home, we'll have to get on that devil's craft and give ourselves up to the gulf of Thailand once more.

But it is amazing what a daiquiri does for the soul and the bravery it endows. The more unlikely it seems that we'll get home (the daiquiri also responsible for outlandish thoughts) the more lovely home seems and everybody in it. Rang Mum yesterday and got a really strong rush for it and would have swapped the beach and the warm sea for a rainy Exeter Christmas in a second. Another daiquiri might sort that out. I do hope everyone's, healthy and happy, that family and friends don't miss us too much, that all the babies about to be born will be as beautiful and lovely as their mothers, that little brothers in the company of bearded men look after themselves and get home safely. Happy Christmas and Happy New Year!!