Happy birthday Sophie. 26 years old. Bloody hell that’s old. Suppose she looks alright for it though.

Today we woke up around 9am wondering whether or not we’d missed the breakfast we had already paid for. Turns out breakfast is available whenever we get up. We are literally in the best guesthouse ever. Hartfield is one of those people that wakes up earlier than the Sun itself, everyday of the week. Soph and I are of course the type of people that would never see the morning if we could help it, but we are doing everything we can to accommodate our new guest by getting up asap.

Today’s breakfast was toast with scrambled egg mixed with slices of cut up bacon. Mixed with a bit of strawberry jam, it turns out this is a dream combination. We saw that away pretty quickly before heading down to the beach.

I mentioned yesterday how good the beach is here. Today it was ridiculous. Today we were sunbathing in a heat similar to when you open the oven door with your face directly in front of it. You know? When you forget how stupidly hot it is going to be. Your eyes instantly dry out and your skin shrivels before you have a chance to blink. That sort of heat. Even the sea was like jumping in a spa. All we needed were the bubbles of human fat and it would have felt exactly like the Nizels jacuzzi pool.

After a few dips in the sea and approximately 90 seconds of sunbathing, I’d had enough of the Sun. Sam decided we needed a ball. Good decision Sam. We topped our backs up with lotion and headed out for our trek to the shops. Hartfield was adamant that a shop selling a suitable ball was just moments away. But those moments dragged out longer than an Eastenders whodunit. A mirage of beach footballs started to appear on the horizon, teasing us to push on a little longer. But then, just as the extreme heat was frying us to a good medium-well, they appeared.

Footballs, volleyballs, basketballs, the lot were here. Quick grab one. “How much are these?” We shout with sheer excitement. She smiles, turns for her calculator and plucks for the first price that comes to her head….

“650 baht”….

650 baht! That’s like 13 quid. We could streak on to the pitch at a Premier League game, grab the ball, sell it to a football memorabilia nut and STILL not get 13 quid for it. Don’t know why we would have to streak of course, just seemed more legitimate. Maybe if we got Soph to do it….

Anyway we had no way let alone time to streak anywhere at this stage. We needed a ball. After refusing numerous times the price miraculously dropped to 350, but this was still too much for what it was. We moved on but only for another 100 yards before spotting it again. The same collection of balls hanging from a street vendors store front. “How much?” This time a little more apprehensively. “400”. Ok that’s a better start at least. We look at the ball, said nothing and waited. Create an awkward silence and let them fill it with a lower price. It’s always good to barter. But if they respond immediately with a yes to your first price drop, you know you should have gone lower. But I’m a pro now.

The silence was filled with the vendor saying “300”…
Me: “250?”…
Vendor: “Sold”…

Damn it!

We heading back to Soph who had now been on her own for over an hour, with our outrageously expensive ball and a pineapple shake to say sorry for being so long. It was all Sam’s fault to be fair. We swam in the sea for a while before two little local kids came over with a cricket bat made from a palm tree and an eagerness to use our ball. Only about 10 years old I was pretty sure I could have ’em if they tried to steal it, so we let them join in.

He asked Sam to throw him the ball and he would try to hit it. Then he let me have a go. Not one to show off in front of others I decided to gently tap the ball back to him. Unfortunately though my hidden strength within my huge arms came through to strike the ball so hard the bat broke in half. Bloody hell!

Luckily they both took it well and we moved on pretty swiftly before one of their dads appeared to break me in half. They wanted a footy match. A 2 on 2 battle to the end. It resulted in an easy win for team England but the Thais wanted something more. A mix up of the teams. And so the game commenced with a new, fairer match up. Obviously my team was smashing it but with the Sun going down we all decided on a ‘next goal wins’ end to the game. My lad was looking good on the ball but the sand hindered his step overs  causing his Thai friend to nip in, steal the ball and score the winner. I was furious. But I did snap his bat in half so I let it go. We all know who was the better team.

The three of us, all suffering from a little too much Sun, headed back to get changed and showered before heading back out to do some birthday shopping and grab some dinner. The market was pretty poor and stank like it was sitting on top of a cesspit. Which it probably was. So with Soph happy to move on we headed to a bar we had lunch in earlier. We stuffed our faces with food and a 3 litre ice jug of Chang before moving to another bar for some cheekier cocktails and a game of Jenga. A game I could have easily won but didn’t want Soph to lose on her birthday. So I took one for the team. Like a true gent.

We headed back home via a 7/11 for some more Changs (seemed like a good idea) and got ready for bed. It had been a good day and even though we didn’t do too much, hopefully Soph really enjoyed her birthday in the Sun.

Thanks for following x