LOVE ON THE ROAD

THIS WEEK ZOË PARTIES HARD WITH LADYBOYS ON THE BEACH

I realised this week that a wild and crazy night for Train Man and me now constitutes a game of rummy. Nothing wrong with cards, but we're meant to be on a year-long holiday, partying hard. And we must look dull to the 18-year-old backpackers around us. Then the worry hit me: what if we can't have fun any more? Have we just stopped drinking so much because we don't need the self-confidence boost?

"I want to go dancing," I announced on Saturday. What I meant was we need to go dancing, before we're sucked into a vortex of bridge and backgammon. "OK," Train Man shrugged, "I guess we're in the right place."

Right place indeed. We're in Ko Phangan, Thailand's party island, and it was the Full Moon the next night. Every month thousands of revellers with rubbish tribal tattoos grab glo-sticks and hit the beach. Secretly it's my idea of hell, but if Train Man and I can still have fun, there's no easier place to prove it. Four buckets of SangSom and one sandy butt-crack later (his, not mine), I even had Train Man dance with me to Shakira while hammered Swedes and ladyboys were stumbling around us. Brilliant.

By Monday we were on a roll and, despite banging headaches, decided to have a hair of the dog and keep partying. And with cocktail confidence abundant, we tried something we've never done before: karaoke.

And you know what? We weren't bad. Train Man, who usually mimes at weddings, actually sang quite well, and I think we even did Let It Be some justice. "Awww," I thought. A Fab Four classic, two whole nights of fun, and one happy couple.

And how did our false confidence ruin the moment?

By singing Vengaboys' Boom Boom Boom Boom.

Time to detox?

Miles travelled: 142, by land and sea

Terse sentences exchanged: 0

Nurofen consumed: 5

Next week: Zoë and Train Man recover at Poo Camp

Comments

[Alice Cooper]

Did they play "Feed my frankenstein"?

Love the column! Looking forward to poo camp!