The final instalment from the Koh Tao back catablogue is from the last night we had with Jeroen and Martina before they flew back to Holland.
Creatures of habit, they liked a bakery that was situated halfway down to the main road on the beach. The food there was rather cracking, and there was also a man that laughed at everything and a dog that never moved. It was here, on that very night, that Jeroen told us my favourite of his many, many stories from the crazy flat land.
I had been explaining to our continental cousins that whilst in India, Helen of Dagleyshire had been bitten on the eye and it had swollen up, making it look like I had 'popped her in the eye' as Eddie Murphy would say. And probably still does, come to think of it.
Later that night after a few rounds of Where's Hilary Duff? we were walking back towards our resort. Suddenly Jeroen dashed off like a bloodhound. He had, we found out, heard the voice of a Belgian man who they had met some weeks ago.
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He was the single most enthusiastic, funny, mental-in-a-good-way and happy child I have ever encountered. He was, we were told, already a Thai boxer, and he was training to be a fire spinner. This lad ran round for hours entertaining everyone and, I say without shame, and only a slight fear of the law, I wanted to steal him.
I didn't. His little sister would've kicked seven shades of shit out of me.
Creatures of habit, they liked a bakery that was situated halfway down to the main road on the beach. The food there was rather cracking, and there was also a man that laughed at everything and a dog that never moved. It was here, on that very night, that Jeroen told us my favourite of his many, many stories from the crazy flat land.
I had been explaining to our continental cousins that whilst in India, Helen of Dagleyshire had been bitten on the eye and it had swollen up, making it look like I had 'popped her in the eye' as Eddie Murphy would say. And probably still does, come to think of it.
Jeroen: I hit a girl once.Now, to be one hundred percent honest and fair, there are a few details I could add here that make it seem slightly less unprovoked. But as Jeroen didn't explain them to us until later, this is the story I'm sharing with you.
Chris: God! Did you? I don't think I've ev-
J: I hit her very hard.
C: Right, ok! Wh-
J: I hit her very hard in the fayshe and knocked her out.
C: Fuck Jeroen! You knocked her out?! Why?!
J: She wash a Moroccan girl, and she had shaid some shit about me raping her shishter in the club. I do not like the Moroccan girlsh.
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| Look how Dutch there are... |
Apparently the Belgian had said that on the 8th of August, 2008, it was his 40th birthday party and that he would be getting some friends together to meet him out on Koh Tao, so they could have a barbeque on the beach.
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When we looked, 'some friends' were in fact at least 50 people, all wearing t-shirts with '08.08.08 The Number of the Feast' on and having a whale of a time. They invited us all to come over and have a party with them, and without much twisting of our arms we went and sat down on some bean bags and watched the show.
'The Show' was namely a three year old Thai boy.
'The Show' was namely a three year old Thai boy.
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He was the single most enthusiastic, funny, mental-in-a-good-way and happy child I have ever encountered. He was, we were told, already a Thai boxer, and he was training to be a fire spinner. This lad ran round for hours entertaining everyone and, I say without shame, and only a slight fear of the law, I wanted to steal him.
I didn't. His little sister would've kicked seven shades of shit out of me.
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