Postcards from Thailand #4: My Acti-Noisy-Nature Report Card: 23 Feb 2023

Island life is taking some adapting to. I've discovered there are actually two 6 o'clocks in a twenty-four hour period which has come as quite a shock and it has to be said, one of them, I don't like very much!

I love late nights and late mornings but here on Samui in all its rural glory, people seem to follow more natural daily rhythms. Basically they go to bed very early, in the in-laws case, just after 8pm and they're up at 6am! It's disgusting.

Problem is, we're still staying in their house in the spare room downstairs as the local lady who was supposed to be making some wonderful, soundproof and lightproof bedroom curtains for our new house seems to have been abducted by aliens.

The spare has no glass in the windows, just traditional shutters and fly screens and with it being cool at night, we keep them open and don't bother with AC, and here lies the problem.

The city is a place of tranquility compared to the friggin racket at night here in the back end of beyond.

I don't want to try and sleep at 8. I want to waste my time until the early hours watching endless inane YouTube videos posted by amazingly altruistic people who want to help me change my life, teach me to boil an egg, setup a wood burning stove in a tent or wildcamp behind a Macdonald's on an industrial estate in Milton Keynes.

Bollocks to 8 pm bedtimes, that's for losers and millenials.

But nature FFS...we have coconuts falling on the roof. I never had this problem back in Pontefract in February...then there are the chirruping bugs that, in some sort of reaction to avenge our treatment of Victorian children who 'should be seen and not heard' , do the exact opposite and stay completely hidden, throwing their voices like a demonic insect ventriloquist so I can't even locate them to spray the bastards with deadly chemicals. Then there's the rain. Not a light drizzle, oh no. It's got to tip buckets of giant drops that don't just fall to earth, they're shot down with the force of a cannon and clatter off the roof, which at least stops the bats from fluttering around for a while but to compensate, the frogs and toads go into overdrive.

Then there's my real nemesis, Khun Pa's fucking rooster

My war of attrition with this damn bird started a few months ago when it stood outside our window crowing at 4am, waking me from my already restless slumber. In one bad tempered movement, I grabbed a bottle of water, opened the fly screen and threw the bottle at him. I missed, but the vindictive cock has not forgotten. He now stands cock-a-doodle-doodling almost non-stop outside the window from about 4 am until it actually gets light at just gone 6.

I've tried to catch the damn thing and make it 'disappear' but unlike the roosters on my grandad's farm as a kid which used to be vicious, aggressive gits, this fella is more into psychological chicken warfare and just walks away when I go near him. If I walk a bit faster, he does a stupid little chicken hop and wing flap and escapes again. At 56, I don't do running, not even for the sake of sanity and a good night's sleep!

So this morning, I lost all hope. I gave in. I resigned myself to the millenial misery of getting up at a time I hadn't even known existed until a few weeks ago and I did it.

I got out of bed

Khun Pa and Ma were sat in the living room, already well into a post breakfast, early morning sesh of Candy crush saga and barely looked up as they gave me an overly cheery sawadee khrap, as I, in return made an effort to smile and in my best Thai accent uttered "bog off khrap". The accent gets them every time as I think they reckon I'm actually trying to learn some Thai. I'm not.

Anyway, I didn't hang around for coffee, I just jumped on the bike, stopped for a capacchino and headed the 2 km to my local beach, Lipa Noi.

And God, was it beautiful...

6.40 am and the sun had just risen. The water was as clear as crystal and as smooth as glass and in the haze, the horizon was barely visible as the sea merged effortlessly into the sky.

The fishermen were having a smoke and sharing their stories before they went home

Finally, it was almost silent. Absolutely serene and for a few moments, I almost forgot I was still absolutely knackered and even my hatred for that damned bird almost melted away.

And it wasn't too bad at this time of day, but I definitely won't be making a habit of it, but once in a while maybe...

As for this bastard...

Perhaps he gets to crow another day...

Best wishes to all

@nathen007

This report was published via Actifit app (Android | iOS). Check out the original version here on actifit.io

Daily Activity, Walking