So after a really good nights sleep, I sadly wake up with the first tummy ache of the holiday. Sad face. A combo of the rum, shrimp and sun i'm sure, but still I'm not a happy chappy.

We wake up stupidly early, ready for a day of island hopping on a boat, around the local islands. I man up, and get myself together, and after another dubious breakfast (6 Baht for a couple of bits of toast!!!) we jump into what we thought was a private minivan. Oh no, we have a VERY loud Thai family with us, and two extremely grumpy British people join us at the next stop. Drats.

We arrive at the jetty (tsunami warning signs everywhere) and all cram into a boat that looked NOTHING like the picture we were promised (no sunbathing on the front like in music videos/cribs. rubbish.) Luckily it turns out the day would be lovely, although slightly overpromised. (We get a refund of 100 Baht each the next day after complaining lots, and they give us some free postcards as a sorry.)

Hong Island was abolsutely beautiful, like something from a movie. The sand was white, the sea crystal clear and warm, and the sun was shining. 60 mins later, we experience our first official downpour. I have never experienced rain like it, so took solace by swimming in the sea in the rain, thinking how much better this rain is than English rain! Screw you English rain! We ask our boat boy how long the storm will last, he glances at the sky deep in thought, and states 10 minutes. 10 minutes later, the rain completely stops. I think the BBC are missing a trick not scouting him out.

We hop on and off round 3 more islands, catching rays as we go, swimming in the sea, and snorkelling a little. At the final stop the boat staff dish us all up green currys, trays of fresh watermelon and pineapples, jack fruit cakes, and bottles of water (and an orange soda for me.) Full bellys make us all much happier.

Everyone gets back to dry land a bit pinker than before, and after freshening up, Jim and I head to the Irish Bar next door (I know, I know, don't say it) for a nice cold draught pint, before dinner. Dinner is some very local street food, made by the loveliest man and his son (I even told the man how lovely and polite his son was, and that he had done a fantastic job) and I eat some divine fried rice with shrimp. A few of us then head back to the Irish bar for a night cap, whilst an out of tune Dutch man sang Status Quo, The Beatles, and others. Time.For.Bed.