ko phangan

On Sunday when I arrived on the island of Ko Phangan, I had unwittingly re-traced the itinerary of my first trip to Thailand back in 2004. Bangkok to Chiang Mai, Ko Samui and then Ko Phangan.

If Ko Samui has become a haven for honeymooners and wealthy westerners, resplendent with five star boutique resorts, Ko Phangan retains a laid back, backpacker vibe that doesn't appear to have moved on much ever since it first became an integral part of the tourist trail.

This was my third visit to the island, and I was looking forward to kicking back in peaceful surroundings. I had booked into a highly-regarded resort on the west coast of the island for three nights. It was very cheap, and I knew there would be no private infinity pools, but when deciding to stay here I had clearly overlooked the type of clientele it was likely to attract. Upon arrival, the British owner talked me through some things I needed to know. First of all, he assured me all the staff in the bar and the restaurant could speak English. What he actually meant to say was, 'don't worry if you want extra cheese on top of your burger, you won't have to repeat yourself five times, raise your voice and mutter about how rude it is that the locals can't understand you'. I was then shown details of the resort's rules - no luminous body paint allowed in the rooms was my personal favourite - and given a list of replacement charges I would face if I broke anything in my room. Finally, I was assured the bar would stay open as late as I wanted it to...

At breakfast the following morning I must admit to feeling very out of place. I didn't feel as if I belonged in the swanky resort in Ko Samui either, but for the first time on this trip I did start to wonder if I was getting too old for all this. It's not that my idea of what constitutes a good holiday has changed since I was a teenager, it's more my tolerance of fellow travellers that has started to wear increasingly thin. As I sat there quietly sipping an orange juice and reading my book, I had to endure the sight of three complete twats - all southern English, all a tad posh - going round the restaurant telling everyone how pissed they had got the night before. And how one of them had crashed their moped yesterday. I don't mind or care what they got up to, it was their insistence on thinking everyone else was interested that annoyed me. Trouble is, it would appear some of the other guests actually were. After they had sat down in the far corner, a girl sat on a table nearby turned to her friend and, without a hint of irony, said 'those guys are really cool'. I despair...

In the afternoon, Seb and his girlfriend Amy stopped by at the hotel for a couple of drinks as they were passing through on a bike trip around the island. Although some of the people staying at the hotel were not my cup of tea, it was the perfect location for a cold beer. The sand on the beach was gloriously white, the sea completely calm and the views of Ko Samui across the water were amazing.

After Seb and Amy left I was planning to get some sleep before heading out to the nearby Half Moon Party later on. However, Norwich's vital match against Derby was now kicking off, and so instead I spent the next 90 minutes refreshing the scores on my phone. Deep into injury time and resigned to a draw, I came out of the shower and saw that we had scored to win 3-2. After jumping around for a while around my beach hut, I was now in the mood for a party and headed out into the evening feeling very happy indeed.

Unlike the Full Moon Party, the half moon event doesn't take place on the beach. Instead it is held deep into the Ko Phangan jungle, and so everyone needs transport to get there. The minibus taking people from my hotel to the event was full, and so I had a choice. I could wait half an hour for them to go there and come back, or I could get in the boot. Feeling quite lubricated from an evening drinking vodka and cokes while trying to keep up with events at Carrow Road, I climbed into the boot and wondered what my mother would think if this turned out to be my final act...

We got to the party, and from then on everything is just a blur. The setting was pretty amazing - a bit like the Lost Vagueness section at Glastonbury only a lot warmer and with more luminous paint. I was at the party for a good six hours, but I can't remember much more than drinking the ubiquitous buckets of whisky and mixers. Perhaps that's why...

At around 6am I caught a ride back to my hotel on the back of a motorbike, which I suppose was marginally safer than the way I chose to arrive. After a brief period watching the sun come up over the beach, I crashed out exhausted in my hut.