Even though I’d been told there is no other way to get to Victory Monument where I was supposed to catch a minivan to the farm from, I decided to give it a go and after a short five minute walk from my hostel I was standing at a bus stop and with my mouth wide open stared at the amount of buses with Thai writings and hoping to see the magical number 509 which uncle Google had recommended me to get my arse to point B. Ufff, here it is. But-what-the-fuck? The bus was absolutely overpacked and I really thought it was a joke when the bus-woman told me to get in because I’m making the bus late. We exchanged a few „are you fucking kidding me?“, „oh come on, hurry up“ and „have you fucking noticed the 20kg massive thing resting on my shoulders?“ looks and I don’t even know how but the door behind me really did close and I could enjoy the amazing view of dozens of sweaty armpits right above my head.
The instructions how to find the right minivan looked way too easy to be that easy. I really did have tears in my eyes after wandering around the place for about 45 minutes. It was boiling hot, my back hurt, sweat was literally going down my whole body and not only no one there looked at least a bit non-Thai, it was that bad that everyone pretended they didn’t know a word in English. So I got to this bridge, lit up a cigarette, got very mad and really madly kicked into my backpack and tried to beat the thoughts in my head that said: „Throw your damn backpack down, fuck everything and let’s get drunk.“
Obviously, I found the minivan I’d been looking for about 7 minutes after it’d departed. Standard. So I had another two hours in my hand to wait for the next one one that nearly cost me 2000 Baht for smoking at the bus station which is – and everyone around me pointed that out very loud – something very prohibited.
The ride to Chat Pa Wai was absolutely unbelievable. And yes, I mean it exactly as it sounds with that ironic touch you applied a few seconds ago. Our almost empty minivan stopped after 15 minutes of driving to pick up another few passengers and even though at least five seats at the back were still free, the driver told the mum with two kids to make themselves comfortable on the two seats straight next to me. That meant that not only did I have to stuff my giraffe legs very deep into the seat in front of me, I even had to put my 85 litre life on top of them. Even though I put the nicest smile on my face and asked by the cutest voice possible to be moved somewhere else, the only thing I got was 9 ignorant looks from my minivan mates so the next three hours were filled by sticky and sweaty kids touching everything on the left side of my body, endless kicks into my already dead legs and constantly closing my eyes when our driver decided that overtaking cars in a turn is way more exciting than where it is actually safe.
When we got to the final destination and my legs finally got back to life, I bought some water and I was very surprised (no, actually I wasn’t because I’m a retard) that roaming on my phone didn’t work so I couldn’t call anyone from the farm to come and pick me up. Luckily, Mr. Arnon is a Chat Pa Wai celebrity and apparently Mon with her amazing British tan as well so this lovely Thai guy I met on the street arranged everything for me. Arnon got there in about 10 Thai (times three) minutes, said only „Hi Mon, nice to meet you, I’m very hungover“ and we were going on his motorbike (that nearly lost its wheel straight when we got to the farm) towards my new ten-day home 🙂