Casting Off by Emma Bamford

Author:Emma Bamford [Bamford, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472906625
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

The weather in the UK, of course, has a lot of to do with it, but when you see bikers in England they are invariably clad head to toe in leathers, with stiff boots protecting their feet, gloves covering their hands and sturdy helmets cushioning their heads. If they come off their bikes at speed and slide along the ground, the leather gets ripped off, rather than their skin and muscle. But in South East Asia it’s not like that. It’s hot and sticky, the laws and approach to health and safety are laxer and, well, it’s just not cool. In Malaysia, at least, everyone wears a helmet. And their coat on back to front if it’s raining. But in Thailand, with their laidback approach, which I was loving, it’s shorts, flip-flops and hair flowing free in the wind. And drunk driving all the way. I was very lucky that Guy is a good, well-practised rider and we never had an accident, not when it was raining, when it was dark or when we were drunk, and especially not when it was all three at the same time.

We flitted from bar to bar, from birthday party to dive masters’ graduation ceremony, from snorkel tests to transvestite fashion show. At our final stop of the evening, I climbed wobbily off the bike in the car park of a pub. Although we had been getting on well, talking and laughing, Guy hadn’t made a move on me, or even touched me, and I had decided, with the clarity inebriation brings, to lunge at him and kiss him. As I focused my eyes on his gorgeous face, I was dimly aware of Toni Braxton’s 1997 hit ‘Un-break My Heart’ playing in the background. I started my offensive.

‘No!’ he yelped and jumped back, further away.

‘What?’ I demanded, hands on hips. ‘Am I not allowed to kiss you?’

‘Oh,’ he said, moving back towards me a little bit. ‘I thought you were trying to slow dance with me.’

‘In a car park?’ I laughed, finding it funny but also a little bit hurt that he’d leapt away from me so abruptly.

He let me give him a quick peck, a bit awkwardly, given that the moment was lost, and we went in to drink buckets of samsong (very strong Thai whisky) and Red Bull, and meet more of his friends. Later he led me to some sun loungers on the beach for some proper kissing, sans Toni Braxton.

I stayed on Lanta with Guy for four days, meeting his friends, who were all divers, or training to be dive masters, or ran dive shops or taught diving or owned diving companies or were on holiday to – you guessed it – dive. We went out drinking every night, starting from about 4pm or 5pm, and carried on until the early hours of the morning. In the afternoons, while we were recovering from one pub session and steeling ourselves for the next, Guy entertained me with tales of island life, filling me in on all the gossip and drama.

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