Phangan Full Moon Party 29/05

Finally after so much hearing about it, we are anchored off Hat Rin Beach (see Keturah on left side of pic). The day started with a good pleasant sail on a steady breeze from Bo Phut, then anchored by the cliffs away from the main bulk of the resorts and restaurants lining the beach. No matter, being the only sailboat here, we are zapped by jet-skis that obnoxiously take us for a way-point in their senseless back and forth. It's alright, the scene is pretty enough for us to relax on the bow with all of our big bean bags and cushions and have a lazy afternoon waiting for the night to arrive.
As the heat abates and the beach starts to liven up we go ashore and check out the town. As imagined, Hat Rin is just another harmless Thai backpacker theme park: rows of restaurants, bars, hostels, internet places, tattoo and massage parlors, diving venues, the Hippy bar, the Reggae bar, the bar still showing "The Beach". Beach side bars are restricted by day to playing all the albums of Jack Johnson and Legend by Bob Marley on an endless loop...time to move on I'd say. Anyway, the place is teeming with excitable youths, the atmosphere is gay and a feel of anticipation pervades the air.
Much walking around, finding a market with actual stuff "normal" people want to buy -groceries and bread as opposed to plastic jewelery and India-themed scarves- but we leave that for tomorrow, since it's time for dinner.
After profound consideration and soul searching, we admit that we really don't care to experiment yet again the local foods (risking to end up disgusted and still hungry), but opt instead for a fail-proof pizza at a venue we saw local shopkeepers dining at.
So pathetically but wisely Pizza it is, inevitably we befriend the owner which turns out to be not the average Italian just-pizza-man.
Soon we are in another shop where we might get some help. In fact we are welcomed by the oddest rant one could ever expect...
"Before Thaksin's crackdown on drugs, Phangan was full of happy stoners. They craved food at all hours and did spend on quality (he sold hi-end imitation surfer brands and quality print T-shirts), they took it easy and spent enough time on the island to keep a steady clientele going. Now that the drugs are gone we are swamped by 20 year old alcoholics coming just for the party, spend as little as possible, but quarrel, get sick everywhere, leave heaps of garbage, get hurt and need to be nursed all around. Even the Thais now realize that "drugs" made good business sense in more than one way. Now the stoners are gone and we do good business a few days a month with silly louts instead of quality people".
Another sour irony of prohibitionism?!
It's time to get back on the beach where as darkness seeps in the sound systems have been setup along with some techno-inspired decorations and the multitude of "Bucket Booths" serving the deadly-on-the-verge-of-poisonous cocktails.
Being only 10 PM the atmosphere is still sedated but picking up. Soon the omnipresent fire twirlers come into action: though they do provide some sort of animation and entertainment they also manage to steal the scene from the party dwellers; all considered at least they are good and manage to be quite creative with flaming ropes, rings, sticks and flaming balls.
The night proceeds in a delirious crescendo of music, booze, stunts, dancing, fireworks, patrolling cops ferociously tacking rugby style anyone naive enough to light up. The sound system each with its own DJ are pumping each his own preferred style: Techno-Trance, commercial, D&B or a mix of it all, while the reggae bar is still stuck on "Legend". The shopkeeper had warned us that in the past "big DJs would come in for the discerning crowd, while now it's all senseless thumping", though if loud, never anywhere near levels of proper destructive rave parties.
After much strolling and taking in the party as it unfolds thirst sets in (you know, that thirst!), and instead of going full alcoholic and disappoint the shopkeepers I opt for tradition and go hunting for a quiet spot where I can order a "Special Happy Shake".
The party is now in full swing and everywhere the scene is a complete bacchanalia: swaying couples frolicking in the shallow water, fires everywhere, throngs dancing wildly, Britons boozing loudly, youths in costume, drunks rolling in sand, a guy with a leg in a cast jumping in a ring of fire and one me reveling of it all.
After heaps of dancing, talking, laughing, walking, drinking, running out of money for good and generally sweating out the happy shake, at only 3am we decide to head back for the boat a little dazed. The idea is just to have a long swim, a snack and a mini and head back to the party, since the volume of the five sound system combined is just too awesome to ignore...but eventually after the aforementioned refreshments who wants to row the dinghy back again and start over at now 4:30am?
The party kept on going until lunchtime, and surely more glorious moments of beautiful mad happiness to witness and/or photograph unfolded, but those were other times!
Of course the morning after we felt fresh as roses after the fix to all evil, see below....