When we were in Sihanoukville in Cambodia, there was a full moon. The weather hadn’t been great since we had arrived, actually, it had been terrible. It rained so much at one stage we thought the sea was going to flood. In between showers, we saw a flyer for a full moon party on an island and thought that Sihanvoukville’s version of a full moon party could be good. We bought tickets for a hefty $10.
Everyone was told to meet up at a bar and we arrived sober. After experiencing full moons at Kho Phangan, this looked like a bit of a let down. There were other people standing around, many wearing full moon t-shirts from Thailand. We didn’t have time to finish our first drinks before we were ushered onto a small boat with no lights. The second we got on the boat, it started to rain, like, lashing rain.
Within minutes we were soaked through. We tried to keep our heads somewhat sheltered by gripping onto the rickety sticks that held up a sparse strip of ripped blue tarpaulin above, and stretching our necks into unnatural angles in an attempt to fit under it. The boat was really rocky, and we all kept banging into each other. The drinks we had brought with us were spilling all over the place and mixing with the heavy downpour.
On our boat were some other Irish girls, and so we joked around about how this rain was nothing really. It’s always raining back home. Although, at home we tend not to be out on at sea in little boats, cradling whiskey dressed in flip flops and sun dresses in the middle of a storm in the dark, but hey.
After half an hour, we had made it to the other side. We fell out of the boat, knee deep in the sea, and waded to shore. We were happy to see a bonfire, but everyone there was just standing around. There was no music and the bar wasn’t open, so we all just hung around in the dark.
We didn’t really get what was going on, as there were plenty of people already there. It was dark and yet there was no party. People were hovering around the tables that were to become the bar, probably making the bar staff a little nervous, as they wiped imaginary water from the counter, and kept busy unloading tempting looking cans of soft drinks from boxes. We thought maybe they were waiting on a generator, because there didn’t seem to be any other reason why a party would be in the pitch dark with no music.
Eventually there was light. And music. And then the bar was finally opened. We queued for quite a while, as everyone wanted to have a drink in hand as fast as possible. The three of us went in on a bucket, and it was NASTY!
The whiskey was like paint stripper!
A far cry from the Tiger whiskey in Laos and Samson in Thailand that we had become fond of. I was almost gagging as I tried to get some down me.
They started to serve the food and we practically ran to the queue. I was starving and looking forward to having something to help me wash the alcohol down with. We were served pinkish-grey hot dogs with chips that were the colour of bone marrow, dripping with grease and also not cooked.
All in all, it was pretty disgusting, from the whiskey to the wiener.
After a while, we started to dance and my mood improved. They were playing dance music, that was better than anything else we had heard so far! The neon paints were glowing on everyone’s faces and we all had a great time drawing on each other.
But then A started to scream hysterically and jump around. This could only mean one thing. Insects. She was screaming that she could feel something in her hair. There were a lot of things flying around, and we had thought we had been imagining the feeling that something was on us, but once A had said it out loud, they seemed to increase. We soon learned that they were massive winged cockroaches, and who likes winged cockroaches flying around you in the dark?
We could see these black things zipping around the crowd and could feel things in our hair, and rubbing off our legs, and what the hell, was that something under my dress????
None of us are that fond of insects, but after a night of hysterics in Don Det, I knew that A and B really freaked out when confronted by them. And now A had reached her point of no return. It was time to leave.
We went down to the shore to find out when the boats were leaving. We had to wait until a boat filled up so we tried to settle on the sand.
Then I began to get a little freaked out by all the things hitting off me. We were down by the water, where it was darker and there were less people, surely this was an even worse place to be sitting? We would attract all the winged beasts.
After an unpleasant wait, we were finally able to get on a boat back to the Sihanoukville mainland. It wasn’t as stormy coming back, but the acid-like whiskey sitting in our stomachs was being sloshed from side to side, much like our boat.
When we finally made it back, we were in need of a pizza. So we walked up the top of the road and got ourselves a big one. On the way back down, the smell of pizza was just starting to improve our moods. Then B tripped and went flying along the gravelly path, along with the pizza.
It looked really, really, really funny, but, perhaps as a result of the crappy night, B really didn’t think so and burst into tears. Then it was kind of awkward as A and I tried to suppress our snorts of laughter while arranging our faces into a show of sympathy, and also trying not to show more concern for our pizza. It was hard not to laugh.
All in all, a far cry from the full moon in Thailand.