Updated: 2017-1-24
Oleg Lazhechnikov
65I'm driving here for the second week by car to Koh Samui, and I just can't figure out what's wrong. Like and dislike me on it, although it seems that the car should be a more comfortable means of transportation. In general, some conclusions can already be drawn. I share :)
To begin with, I want to say that I have enough driving experience, after all, I’ve been driving for 13 years already: I had to work on a car at one time, and traveled to Europe, and rode around Russia. This is me to the fact that I feel pretty confident behind the wheel, despite the right-hand drive and left-hand traffic.
Summary
In fact, my conclusion is this, regarding movement within the resorts: if you go somewhere to a specific place, then driving a car is quite convenient. But, if you are just going to look around, look for some store or something interesting along the way, then this is some kind of hard labor. The road is narrow, it’s hard to stop, because the stream is following you, often you just fly by, because it’s somehow not ethical to drive very slowly. I tried to drive a car just without a goal to look around, I slipped through so many interesting things, because it’s not always convenient to turn around ...
But if you are driving on the highway, on the contrary, the car and only the car. I traveled well by car in the north of Thailand, turning circles around Chiang Mai, I got perfectly from Bangkok to Krabi, Phuket and back. Moreover, still along the way, stopping by all sorts of national parks and resorts along the way. I even slept in the car once, got tired and stopped to take a nap for several hours, very comfortable.
When choosing between a bike or a car, most often people are guided by price. But I would still consider driving safety. I know that thousands of people ride a bike, but those are less for me. Whoever decides this for themselves, it all depends on personal preferences, budget, fears and experience. So in fact, these two factors are decisive for most people, the choice is yours.
P.S. I advise that I won’t rent it, I myself like the feeling of riding a bike, but with a child or for long hauls, I personally always choose a car.
Life hack 1 - how to buy good insurance
It is unrealistically difficult to choose insurance now, therefore, to help all travelers, I am compiling a rating. To do this, I constantly monitor forums, study insurance contracts and use insurance myself.
Life hack 2 - how to find a hotel for 20% cheaper
Thank you for reading
4,75
out of 5 (ratings: 65)
Comments (65 )
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Tatiana
Inna
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Kachubey
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Tim
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Tim
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Consent to the processing of personal data
I hereby, being the Customer of the tourist services included in the tourist product and an authorized representative of the persons (tourists) specified in the Application, give my consent to the Agent and his authorized representatives to process my data and the data of the persons (tourists) contained in the Application: surname, name, patronymic, date and place of birth, gender, citizenship, series, passport number, other passport data indicated in the passport; address of residence and registration; home and mobile phone; E-mail address; as well as any other data relating to my personality and the identity of the persons specified in the Application, to the extent necessary for the implementation and provision of tourist services, including those that are part of the tourist product formed by the Tour Operator, for any action (operation) or set of actions ( operations) performed with my personal data and data of persons specified in the Application, including (without limitation) collection, recording, systematization, accumulation, storage, clarification (updating, changing), extraction, use, transfer (distribution, provision, access), depersonalization, blocking, deletion, destruction of personal data, as well as the implementation of any other actions provided for by the current legislation of the Russian Federation, using automation tools, including in information and telecommunication networks, or without using such tools, if the processing of personal data without using such means corresponds to the nature of actions (operations) performed with personal data using automation tools, that is, it allows, in accordance with a given algorithm, to search for personal data recorded on a material carrier and contained in file cabinets or other systematized collections of personal data, and / or access to such personal data, as well as for the transfer (including cross-border) of these personal data to the Tour Operator and third parties - partners of the Agent and the Tour Operator.
The processing of personal data is carried out by the Agent and his authorized representatives (Tour Operator and direct service providers) in order to fulfill this agreement (including, depending on the terms of the agreement, for the purpose of issuing travel documents, booking rooms in accommodation facilities and with carriers, transferring data to consulate of a foreign state, resolving claim issues when they arise, providing information to authorized state bodies (including at the request of courts and internal affairs bodies)).
I hereby confirm that the personal data transferred by me to the Agent are reliable and can be processed by the Agent and his authorized representatives.
I hereby give my consent to the Agent and the Tour Operator to send me emails/information messages to the email address and/or mobile phone number I have provided.
I hereby confirm that I have the authority to provide personal data of the persons specified in the Application, and I undertake to reimburse the Agent for any costs associated with my lack of appropriate authority, including losses associated with the sanctions of the inspection authorities.
I agree (to) that the text given by me of my own free will, in my interests and in the interests of the persons specified in the Application, consent to the processing of personal data is stored electronically in a database and / or on paper and confirms the fact of consent to the processing and transfer of personal data in accordance with the above provisions and take responsibility for the accuracy of the provision of personal data.
This consent is given for an indefinite period and can be revoked by me at any time, and in terms of a specific person, the subject of personal data specified in the Application, by the specified person, by sending a written notification to the Agent by mail.
I hereby confirm that my rights, as a subject of personal data, have been explained to me by the Agent and are clear to me.
I hereby confirm that the consequences of withdrawing this consent have been explained to me by the Agent and are clear to me.
This Consent is an annex to this Application.
Current page: 1 (total book has 13 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 9 pages]
Anton Lirnik
Three in Thailand, not counting dogs© A. Lirnik, 2014
© Design. Eksmo Publishing LLC, 2014
All rights reserved. No part of the electronic version of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including posting on the Internet and corporate networks, for private and public use, without the written permission of the copyright owner.
© The electronic version of the book was prepared by LitRes
* * *
Author's Preface
As I write this foreword, the book is not finished yet. But, as soon as the text is ready, in this place there will appear a confidential and not devoid of self-irony appeal of the author to the readers. In which I will report that the book, they say, is the first, and, they say, do not judge strictly. And I will say "thank you" to everyone who needs to say "thank you". And I assure everyone else that the work has nothing to do with real people and businesses. And I'm happy to note that the book is designed for a wide readership. And finally, I will express the hope that everyone will like my modest creation: both those who laugh out loud while watching The Hangover in Vegas, and those who quietly chuckle while rereading Three Men in a Boat. And I will add that I dedicate my book to the author of the last work. Thank you for my happy childhood, dear Jerome K. Jerome!
Anton Lirnik, autumn 2013
Chapter first,
in which the reader will get to know the main characters of this story, learn the true joy of meeting old friends, and at the same time feel all the destructive impact of such meetings on the fragile human body
- Vasily Ivanovich, enough, don't play around! My heels continued to tickle inexorably, and I tried my best not to laugh. But then a claw sank into his leg. It was too much. I threw slippers at Vaska, and the cat darted offendedly under the table. I got up from the couch and stretched sweetly. The gray Moscow morning slowly crept in through the window.
It's good that I didn't get drunk yesterday. New Year's corporate parties are an insidious thing. First, everyone makes a toast in honor of the director. An hour later, they begin to dance to Serduchka. Then they famously play twister, stepping on ties and dress hems with their hands. Then the speeches become shorter, the glasses fuller, and the ladies get prettier every minute. In the morning you find yourself in the caretaker's closet with the chief accountant's bra in your pocket. This time I restrained myself, drank little - took care of the liver. I won't lie, it was boring. In addition, the pretty office manager Nina, offended by my restraint, went to hiccup on the shoulder of the deputy director. But for the time being, a not weak collection of compromising evidence lurked in the mobile phone.
Outside the window the metropolis was buzzing, Muscovites hobbled to work. And my New Year holidays have already begun. Our director is a great connoisseur of human souls. He let everyone go for a walk since December 24th. So after lunch I was going to fly to my native Yekaterinburg. After taking a shower and a cup of coffee, I scooped up a crop of washed socks from the radiator and began to pack. The doorbell rang.
- Artyom, what is the best way to feed Vasya: liver or kidneys? asked the neighbor Klavdia Stepanovna. The former ballerina entered my bachelor pad with well-practiced grace.
– Through times, only strongly not indulge. Last time he got so drunk on your diet that he jumped on my chest and almost broke my ribs. The old woman chuckled mischievously.
So are you flying home? When will you be back?
“I don’t know yet,” I replied, putting things into my bag, “you can’t guess with my friends.
- I do remember. How did they sing when they flew in that winter?
- "Misha from Seryozha got in the face!"
- Yeah. Seryozha - which one is small? Good boy, so polite. - An elderly neighbor, due to naivety, took Serezhin's state of smokyness for politeness.
- Well, let's get on the track!
With mournful faces, we sat down on chairs, I picked up the cat.
- Vasily Ivanovich, you remain in charge. Do not be rude to Claudia Stepanovna, do not drive cats, watch yourself and your country!
Two hours later I was already entering the airport building. In my gradation of transport hubs, the airport certainly ranks first. The airport is not at all like the noisy railway stations and shed-type bus stations, smelling of beggars and pasties. Everything in it is solemn: the passengers, and the planes, and the piles of gray troughs in front of the frame, and the hair of the stewardesses, forever pulled together by something at the back of their heads. I boarded the plane and sat in my rightful seat 16D. Like all passengers, my face took on a majestic expression. This happens to everyone who is involved in the process, but not involved in its implementation. The chair next to me was still empty. I hoped that the "mysterious stranger" would take him. Of course, such fantasies are somewhat silly for a thirty-two-year-old, albeit unmarried, man.
“Excuse me, is this location 16E?” - The stranger, slightly squinting, examined the numbers on the panels. Under the fur coat was a short, tight-fitting dress just above the knees. Around the neck is a light scarf. The image of a fellow traveler was complemented by mother-of-pearl lipstick on slightly swollen lips and the alluring smell of perfume. My inner hussar grinned and mentally twirled his mustache.
“Sit down, please, let me pack your bag!”
- Thanks, bro, I'll pack the bag! - Because of the girl, a second neighbor materialized. Before the build of Gerard Depardieu, he lacked three hundred grams. However, he has already accepted two hundred of them. It’s good that Yekaterinburg is only a couple of hours away. The girl slipped to the window, and the big man squeezed himself into the chair between us with difficulty. I felt the first bout of aerophobia.
- I'm lazy, give me a flask. Well, let's take a sip, shall we? The second sentence was for me.
Thanks, I'm going to my parents. I don't want to upset my mother.
Mom is sacred! For parents! - said the bumpkin and thoroughly kissed the flask.
* * *
Smooth landing. While I applauded along with the rest of the passengers, my neighbor enthusiastically snored out the window. His secretary (for his wife she was too accommodating) waged another bird-pig war on the phone. At Koltsovo airport, everyone immediately rushed to the luggage millstones. My suitcase crawled out first, and I went out into the waiting room with a feeling of deep moral satisfaction. Where I immediately saw a red-haired boy with a YOLKIN sign in his upper limbs. Smiling taxi drivers crowded around him.
“Hey, are you meeting me?”
– Artyom Yolkin?
- He is.
- God bless. Otherwise, these hamadryas have been teasing me with "Palkin" for five minutes.
- I understand, at school I didn’t hear that.
- My name is Igor, Mikhail Matveyevich ordered to meet you, - Igor spoke to me at the same time and looked into the paper, which he clutched in his hand.
Is this the text of your welcome speech?
- No, it was Mikhail Matveyevich who described you, just in case.
“Let me see,” snatching a piece of paper from Igor’s hesitant hand, I began to read my orientation. “Brunette, medium height, small belly, brown eyes. Elegant, as he thinks, stubble. I raised my brown eyes to Igor.
“It looks like quite an elegant stubble,” he tried to correct the situation.
- Come on. Why didn't Mikhail Matveyevich come himself?
“He said he wanted to surprise you!” Yep, he's calling. One minute! Yes, Mikhail Matveyevich, yes, I met, I give! Igor shouted into the phone and handed me the phone. A familiar bass sounded from the speaker:
- Hello, Artyom, how are you? Didn't burp in flight? And Laptem and I have already ...
- Did you spit?
No, we are in a restaurant! Shashlik, vodyara and our hospitality are waiting for you! Come quickly to us! To drink, to get drunk, to tinker in the mud! - Misha was in his repertoire. There were two light and one dark in his voice. I vividly imagined him talking on the phone, lounging in a chair with a gigantic body. Light brown hair, slightly damp from alcohol, stuck to the forehead of not a boy, but a husband in his early thirties.
- Excuse me, I'll visit my parents first, we haven't seen each other for six months.
- No problem. But you don’t stick with the old people for a long time, otherwise we will attack without you. All! We wait! Give the phone to Igor.
After listening to the boss's valuable instructions, Igor helpfully grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and we went to the car. Going out into the street, I breathed in the frosty Ural air with pleasure. Here I am at home, okay! The driver led me to a huge black jeep and opened the door himself. Great Misha trained his employees, they go straight to the line, I thought, and flopped into the back seat. We set off.
Mikhail Makarov is my school friend, we sat at the same desk. Together they made chimneys, went on first dates together, entered institutes in one year. I'm in pedagogy, he's in polytechnic. From school, Misha was teased by "Homemade" because of his passion for design. And it was not in vain that they teased: at the age of twenty-five, he opened his own service station, then several more. Now Makarov already had a powerful business, debugged like a Swiss watch.
- Is it true that you and Mikhail Matveyevich blew up the chemistry room at school?
- It's not true, Igor, the crater remains from the explosion. And there, only the glass flew out and the cleaning lady began to stutter.
- Oh, cool! Is it true that you...
“Wait, do you know where to take me?”
- Of course, the boss told me the address, I will deliver it in the best possible way.
Squeaking wheels in the snow, the jeep drove into my yard. The native Khrushchev house was ruffled from the cold, a rocket was gray among the snowdrifts on the playground. On its side was an indisputable green inscription "VIKTOR TSOI IS LIVE!". Strange, before the inscription was blue. They update it, right?
- All the best to you!
- Thanks Igor!
Climbing up to the fifth floor, I took a breath and rang the doorbell. From the open door there was a smell of spicy spirit: mother was frying cutlets. Crossing the threshold, I shook hands with my father.
Hello, Ilya Kuzmich.
- Hello, Artyom Ilyich. He let me into the hallway and closed the door with his usual equanimity. As if I had returned from the store, and not flown for one and a half thousand kilometers.
Why didn't you call? We would set the table.
- Son, hello, my love! - Mom came to me in time with kisses. Dad accepted the coat, critically touching the thin lining.
- Lucky. A little more - and they would have missed each other!
- Where are you going?
- Let Artyom come in, Ilya, that you stuck him in the hallway! - Mom grumbled for show and disappeared into the kitchen.
In the living room, I sat on the sofa. The carpet on the wall effectively complemented the dad's story.
- I bought "last-minute trips" to Egypt. Mom wanted to see the pyramids all her life, and I wanted to smoke a real hookah.
Well, that's good for the horizon. And when will you return?
- In twelve days: ten days there, plus two days on the road. In short, one leg is here, the other is there, - my father summarized gymnastically.
- Hey! Conqueror of the East, Artyom, go eat, the cutlets are ready, - our mother called us.
What can you bring back from Egypt? she asked me at the table.
“Anything but papyrus.” And I beg you, don't ride camels...
– What is it all of a sudden?
- It's gone.
- Don't grumble. Well, for Egypt! - We clinked glasses of cognac.
An hour later, the parents rushed off to the airport, towards the Red Sea and hot sands. Somewhere in the depths of my soul I envied them. Alone at home, I'm too old for such a film. However, no one canceled the Three Musketeers format.
Hello, Misha? How are you there?
- Very decent! Wait... Hey you, in a bow tie, bring us another decanter! Only at the pace, otherwise we lose the rhythm! Hello, Artyom, how are your parents? Give them respect!
They have gone to Egypt!
- Oh, brother, you can’t do this with relatives!
- They left on their own, they wanted to see the pyramids.
“Shut up, they’re going to the East, and you’re going to Kolosok!” Do you remember where it is?
- Oh shit. Misha, this is an eatery for drunks.
“Wake up and sing, it has long been converted into a family restaurant with striptease and chillout.
- You come, you will see everything yourself, and most importantly, you will touch it!
* * *
Forty minutes later I was standing in the lobby of the Kolosok restaurant. The glass-eyed guard was looking for my last name, running his finger down the list of non grata.
- I have not been to you yet, you can not look.
- Everyone says like that. Are there weapons?
- No, what can you suggest?
- Joker? Well, well, you are welcome!
In the center of the hall, a small, about thirty people, corporate party was noisy. The toastmaster, as if descended from an advertisement for a rehabilitation center, majestically made a toast. The men cackled at the jokes from the book "Merry Feast", p. 82. In the far corner of the room, both of my friends were decorously drinking: one hundred and twenty kilos of Misha and one hundred and sixty centimeters of Seryozha. In the semi-darkness of the restaurant, I flanked them and barked, “Hands up, monogamy test!” In response, Misha elegantly choked on a salted tomato. Sergei immediately began to fight for the life of his friend: the blows of his fists fell on Makarov's back.
I already talked about Misha, now I will draw your attention to my second friend. We were introduced to Sergei Laptev by the Ural television, where Makarov and I posted a commercial for his first service station. My slogan is "The car broke down - get the stash!" Laptev called him idiotic, in response I called him a cretin. We almost got into a fight, and it grew into a strong friendship.
After television, Sergei changed a dozen jobs. On each of them, he cynically neglected the dress code: his arafatka and army boots organically complemented the image of an anti-globalist, esoteric and almost dystrophic. Short, round-shouldered, thin, Laptev was the walking personification of a midlife crisis. Brown hair gathered in a ponytail. Gray hair of a small bush of a beard. When looking at this almost thirty-five-year-old teenager, the word "planokur" naturally popped up in most people's heads, and popped up not without reason. But this did not bother Sergei in the least. And Sergei's shameless indifference was to our liking.
Finally, Misha cleared his throat:
- You can’t scare me like that, I almost gave up! - from Mikhail, ruddy from vodka, it was possible to draw the symbol of the Olympics-80. His gray-blue eyes sparkled with joy and alcohol, and a spotty blush on his cheek emphasized the heroic health. I smiled and held my arms out to the side. Makarov scooped me up like a bear.
– Penalty to our metropolitan friend! - Misha and Sergey barked, as if they had been doing that rehearsal of this phrase since our last meeting. Simultaneously exhaling air, we drank while standing and immediately ate cabbage.
Shish kebabs smoked appetizingly on the table, pickles, mushrooms and herring stood around them. Boiled potatoes turned white next to sliced cheese and sausage. A decanter of vodka erotically fogged up next to a jug of kvass. I rubbed my hands vigorously in anticipation.
“And you are doing well here.
“There is no reason for sadness, Artemon. Everyone has a crisis, but we have Christmas! Gee-gee-gee!
- This makes me happy. What did you mean when you said that Kolosok is a family restaurant with striptease?
“Serge, explain to the man the essence of pleasant changes,” Makarov announced and took up the herring.
- Everything is very simple. After nine o'clock in the evening, waitresses go topless, and dancing begins at the pylon without underwear and prejudice.
“And what time is it now?”
– The beginning of the ninth, so we have time for everything!
- Glory to the company "Glavstolinvest!!" – proclaimed the toastmaster, and the whole corporate party suddenly raised their faces from the plates.
- Hooray!! Hooray!! Hooray!!!
From this cry, we shuddered, the chandeliers swayed, and a plastic tulip from a small vase fell into my aspic. It was some kind of acoustic aggression. On top of that, Misha's phone rang.
“Quiet, this is Sveta,” Misha said either to us or to the toastmaster and for some reason stood up. - Hello, Svetik, hello to you! What? Well, I told you. Artyom has arrived. What does "the same one" mean? Yes, I am with him! Seryozha is also with us, so what? .. I warned you ... Yes, I will buy onions, tomorrow, at least a whole bag! What?! Now I'm going to shove someone like that ...
I felt uncomfortable. This is what happens when you are waiting in line at the dentist, and outside the door the doctor is unsuccessfully trying to seat a screaming child in a chair. I looked at Laptev. He calmly squeezed a pickled tomato into his mouth.
- Seryoga, maybe I should talk to Sveta?
“Don’t, let the storm subside on its own.” We will not interfere with the revelry of the elements.
- Hello, Sveta, don't hang up. Svetik! St…” Misha, turning purple, sat heavily on a chair and slammed his phone on the tablecloth. His wife had the appearance of an angel and the temperament of a demon.
In order to somehow put our nerves in order, we immediately drank. Then we drank another one each, and the feast rushed along the long-trodden route. The empty decanter vanished, giving way to its brimming colleague. The toasts were shortened until they were reduced to gestures. It was nine o'clock in the evening. Busts of waitresses reminded us of dessert. Melons and apples were ordered (there were no watermelons, but in vain). Looking around, I realized that the fun had swept the restaurant like a tsunami. Tamada started arm wrestling with the director of Glavstolinvest. Subordinates obsequiously made bets on the victory of the boss. He pushed with all his might. The crimson face and the veins swollen on the forehead foreshadowed an imminent heart attack. The strippers, forgetting about the pylon, cheered for the toastmaster. Inspired by their wavering support, I raised my glass and focused my eyes on my drinking buddies.
- Friends, if you only knew how glad I am to see you! Let's drink to our glorious friendship! I get pretty damn sentimental at times. Misha and Sergei's chins trembled treacherously. We clinked glasses, knocked over and ate. What happened next, I don't remember.
* * *
I woke up from the fact that the legs that lay on me began to move. Lord, whose are they? One sock is blue, with deer, the other is black, with a hole. "Sergei," I breathed a sigh of relief. But how did we get to my house? I raised my buzzing head with difficulty. Our jackets were piled in the center of the room. Under them someone hummed: "Water, water ..." - it was Misha. Outside the window, the sun was blazing red. Dawn or sunset? Unclear. With great difficulty, I got up from the couch. My brain was beating like a heart. In the mouth, it was possible to safely carry out the Paris-Dakar race. Misha's head in Budyonovka appeared from under the jacket mountain. Are we transported back in time? I stared at my friend, unable to put the words into sentences. He broke the silence first.
“Are you going to stare at me like a ram at a new gate, or will you bring water?”
- What are you doing on the floor? - I said, although to an outsider it sounded like "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah."
- Water! For heaven's sake, Yolkin, don't be a fascist!
- I will bring it now. How did we get to my house?
- Don't you remember?
- Bring water - you will receive information.
Raising Misha's head, I began to drink him from a glass. Makarov's teeth tapped against the glass.
- Eco has dismantled you, comrade brigade commander. Did you put a lot of whites yesterday?
- At first everything was zashib. We drank, then we drank, then we danced. By the way, you danced on the table.
- And I beat the toastmaster in the face.
- For what?
- He called Seryoga a faggot.
- A fag?!
- Something like that. Laptev dispersed the girls and began to dance at the pole.
“He’s a fag himself,” came from the couch.
- Oh, the disco dancer woke up, - Misha laughed and immediately grimaced, - Oh, oh, side! I think my rib is broken.
- And what happened then?
“Then a guard came running. Remember that asshole with the glass eye? And he started hitting me.
- And you began to blizzard him.
- Artyom, do you have a beer?
It was the owner of the deer sock who spoke again. With a hangover, Sergei despised water. Groaning, he got up from the couch and hiccupped. It took away all his strength. But Laptev gathered his will into a fist and courageously fixed me with an inquiring glance. These were not eyes, but drills. I had to answer:
- I don't have a beer.
- Then I'll go. How much will you take: three, five?
- Come on three, a stall in the yard. Money on the nightstand.
- Yes, I know. Makar, keep quiet for now, please, I'll be right back, - shuffling his feet, Sergei rushed into the hallway.
Ignoring Laptev's request, Makarov continued:
- When we were kicked out of the restaurant, we went to me, but Svetik began to throw a bow at us.
So she didn't have a bow.
- I brought.
– Where did you get it?
- I bought it in a restaurant, half a bag. Crimean, sweetie.
- Have you tried it?
- I had to. Wait, I have to go to the restroom, otherwise I'll go under myself.
With difficulty overcoming the gravity of the earth, Makarov got to his feet and fixed himself. Now he would really need a third leg, for balance and stabilization. Taking unsteady steps, he set off on a journey five meters long. From everything it was clear that this grueling marathon required maximum composure from him. Tormented by curiosity, I continued to ask questions.
- And where did Budyonovka come from?
Makarov has already reached the toilet. His answers were accompanied by jets and groans.
- Ooo. Then we went to the bathhouse for healing and prevention of colds. Seryozha and I jumped into the pool, and you closed the attendant in the steam room.
- So why were you silent? Gotta go open!
- Late. Oh-oh-oh, how good.
- He broke the door. I had to make a fuss, he gave Budyonovka for change. Felt, absorbs moisture well.
- Yeah, cool, we annealed it yesterday. Don't say anything.
- And everything is Svetka! Twisted me like a kid ... - the sound of the drained water drowned out the next words. - Right now, I'll call her and stuff it like that! It will be a week to drink validol! Give me the phone, otherwise my sat down.
The independence of Mikhail's judgments about the family structure grew in direct proportion to the distance between him and his beloved wife. When Svetik was not around, Makarov was a brutal male, a kind of symbol of sexism and intolerance towards the feminine. But as soon as Svetlana appeared on the horizon, the armor of God cracked like old paint on the walls of a beer stall.
- Hello, Svetulya! Listen, I'm sorry, my love, that I was like this yesterday ... Yes ... Yes, I didn't do it on purpose! Why are you starting right now? Ah, that's it! Check yourself three times! You yourself went! We're not flying anywhere! Fly yourself. On a green broom! And wherever you want, everything, I do not care! What?! Yes, you know where to go? - after these words, Misha slammed the phone against the wall with a flourish. The wall turned out to be stronger, and the phone went into a “very heavily used” condition.
- It's necessary! No one has ever cussed me like that! He warmed a toad on his chest ... Why are you sad all of a sudden?
Actually, it was my phone.
“Spit, I’ll buy you a new one.” Do you want me to break mine?
- Uh-uh, Misha. No need…
Fuck! The number of broken phones in my apartment has doubled.
Makarov, are you out of your mind? It was my phone! - Sergei floated out of the hallway. - There was even money in the account!
- Yes? And don't care, and I'll buy you a new one. So, where's my phone?
"I'll tell you, just don't hit him." Artyom, how do you open the lock on the door? Clockwise?
- Haven't you left yet?
– And how will you leave here if everything is walled up for you?
- The keys are in the hallway.
No, I've been looking. And I broke a shoehorn along the way.
How have you not broken your head yet? Look in the jacket.
- Where is she?
- "Where where". In the mound under which this phone killer slept.
Laptev went up to a pile of jackets in the middle of the room and began to rummage through it. Perfected movements betrayed a lover of second-hand in Sergey. Finally, he found my jacket and, with a pleased grunt, put his hand in his pocket. Suddenly, his face took on a soft ashy hue.
- What's happened?
“Artyom, you’ve got something there, round, wet and nasty.”
- Let's watch.
- Guys, maybe not? Let's burn the jacket, and that's it, shall we?
- Misha, give you free rein, you will rattle everything here.
- Decide quickly, otherwise I'll be sick now.
- Get it.
Slowly, like a sapper, Sergei pulled a clenched fist out of his jacket.
- Open up.
- I can't, my fingers cramped.
Little by little, finger by finger, we opened the fist of our faint-hearted friend. The glass eye of the guard lay in the palm of his hand. There was condemnation in his eyes.
– Yes, Artyom, the capital hardened you. When did you do it like that?
- I don’t remember, even crack!
“Memory always replaces the worst. I'll go and wash my hands. Do you have chlorine?
The bell rang and we looked at each other.
- All right, it's behind us. They’ll solder us for beautiful eyes, I can’t do it myself, ”Seryoga said in an otherworldly voice.
- No, it's my mobile. Did not sit down, it turns out! - Mikhail immediately fished out a beeping phone from his night lair.
- Yes, Svetulya, yes, dear ... A. Hello, Zinaida Afanasyevna. No, everything is fine with Svetochka. I don't know why she is crying. Maybe I watched a sad movie... Well, let me explain to you: yesterday I celebrated my arrival with my friends... What? Yes, how did you just turn your tongue ?! Yes... You know what! You yourself are the most!!!
In the jump, like a real goalkeeper, Sergei barely managed to catch Makarov's pipe. We needed connection.
- This su ... Zinaida Afanasyevna this! It's not in vain that she is her mother, oh, not in vain! Well, now we definitely won’t fly to Thailand. Let them sit at home, by the window, staring at the snowdrifts.
- Misha, what kind of trip?
- Yes, they wanted to take my mother-in-law to Thailand for the New Year. Exotic and all. Booked tickets, hotels, excursions. Where to now? All down the drain!
Laptev and I exchanged knowing glances. On the one hand, vacation with mother-in-law. On the other hand, in the dead of winter, to escape from the snow and frost under the rays of the tropical sun and, without caring about anything, lie down on a sun lounger under a palm tree, sipping a cocktail through a straw... eyes with the palm of his hand, peered into the bright green jungle that surrounded the airport.
- Yes, it's a pity that such an adventure is lost ...
It's warm in Thailand right now.
- Yes, it's always warm there, uh-heh-heh ...
Glancing over our sour faces, Makarov uttered a phrase that we did not even hope to hear:
- Listen, guys, let's go to Thailand. Threesome, huh?
This is the debut book of Anton Lirnik, a well-known comedic club member and member of the Chekhov Duet. The main character plans to celebrate the New Year in the company of his parents. But gatherings with old friends suddenly turn into an overseas voyage. Three friends set foot on the land of Thailand, having escaped from the snows of the Urals to a tropical island. And when a Russian tourist finds himself in a foreign country, adventures begin to rage around him: crocodiles and diving, Thai boxing and full moon parties, fiery food and ice drinks of different levels of fortress... The funniest book of 2014! For all the National Hunt Peculiarities and Vegas Hangover fans!
* * *
The following excerpt from the book Three in Thailand, not counting dogs (Anton Lirnik, 2014) provided by our book partner - the company LitRes.
chapter three
We arrived at Koltsovo airport almost recovered from the shock. On the way from the car to the entrance to the terminal, Makarov only glanced over his shoulder a couple of times. But at the door, he gathered his courage, and cheerfully stepped inside, waving his purse like a lord. Laptev trotted after him, clutching his strange package to his chest, and I traditionally brought up the rear. As a convoy, rattling wheels on the tiles, my suitcase acted.
Near the baggage packers, Laptev became agitated:
- We need to pack our luggage.
– What do you have to pack, Seryozha?
A special person on a spinning machine quickly turned Serezhin's package into a small shiny watermelon.
With a crane wedge, we approached the reception desk.
“Your passports, please,” said the beauty, smiling at Mikhail alone. They have a gut, don't they? We started slapping our pockets like a macarena. Laptev was the first to interrupt the dance:
- I have them...
- Well, come on, you see, the young lady is waiting!
“They are here,” Sergey gloomily showed Misha his watermelon.
So print it out soon! Don't delay the process! One minute, young lady, now everything will be fine.
Puffing, Laptev opened the package and took out our passports from the bag.
- Yeah, and here are the passports. As many as three, hehe, well, there are three of us, well, you understand!
- I now ...
Sergey, where are you? Don't go!
But the arafatka had already flashed in the direction of the luggage packer. The girl, frowning a little, studied the documents.
“Very well, and now your tickets, please.”
Forced smiling Makarov began to turn his head in search of Laptev.
- Now, just a minute. Seryozha, where do you go all the time, huh?
I resealed the package.
“Handsome, where are our tickets?”
There was already a queue behind us. Dozens of eyes gently bored our heads with their gazes. Having torn the polyethylene cocoon again with his nails, Laptev handed the girl tickets and again sped away. The girl carefully looked at the tickets and raised her head, bumping into our ingratiating smiles. Convinced that there were not quite adequate people in front of her, she switched to a reduced speed of narration.
- It's reverse. Tickets. And I need from Yekaterinburg to Bangkok.
Makarov howled softly and turned around, burying himself in Sergei with his next "watermelon" in his hands.
- Laptev! Why the hell did you take the return tickets?!
- Like "reverse?"
“Ah… Well… Reverse ones will also be useful to us…”
They are for today! Were you going to fly to Thailand today and come back today?!
"You shouldn't have rushed me!"
- Who rushed you? There was no need to stick fingers together instead of doing everything like a human!
While Misha was kicking Seryozha's watermelon like a soccer ball, the girl explained to me where to buy tickets for the next flight to Bangkok.
At the box office it turned out that there were no tickets. A little out of breath after the penalty shootout, Misha turned on his charm to the fullest:
- Girl, dear, didn’t you really have a day when you had to fly to Bangkok desperately? Look again, it's a matter of life and death over there with glued fingers.
- There is one option, but I don’t know if it will suit you ...
- Do not languish! If you need to fly standing up, then I agree ...
- No, you will have to fly sitting, but in business class.
- So-and-so, and how much does this pleasure cost?
- Forty thousand.
- Fine. Why so cheap?
- This is for one.
- The price is in rubles, I hope?
- Certainly.
- Phew. Now fine. Please me again, is this the cost of a round-trip flight?
- No, one.
- So, together there will be 120 thousand. And in both directions - 240 thousand rubles. Yes.
There was a pause, and doubt flashed in Makarov's eyes. But then he, apparently, imagined how he was returning home in the evening, and he decided.
- OK. Let's get one way tickets. As a last resort, I'll leave them there if they misbehave!
The lady at the front desk looked at our tickets three times before making sure we didn't mix anything up. I was the only one who checked in my luggage. I was the first to approach the frame of the metal detector. He took off his belt, laid out a trifle from his pockets ...
“Man, what is it with you?” The customs officer turned the glass ball in his hands.
- It's an eye.
- Why do you need him?
- Spare.
- Come in, just don't show it to the children on the plane.
- Do I look like a person who shows something to children?
Misha rang on the frame like a tram at a crossroads. Blowing a strand of hair out of her forehead, the customs officer asked:
- Man, maybe you have a metal plate in your head?
- I have nothing in my head.
“Check again, did you take everything out of your pockets?”
Makarov shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a bunch of keys the size of a large metal hedgehog from his pocket. Once on the other side of the metal detector, Misha nudged me with his elbow and nodded behind his back. Holding my breath, I watched Sergei walk through the frame.
- What's in your package?
“Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary.
Why did you pack it?
- Isn't it possible?
- Unpack, please.
- It is necessary?
– Please unpack your luggage!
With a practiced movement, Sergei tore off the polyethylene peel from the bag. (That's who will peel oranges for us in Thailand!) Contrary to our fears and the hopes of the customs officer, there was nothing forbidden inside: a cup, a mouse pad, a stationery knife, Kutuzov's bust and a bunch of markers. Obviously, Laptev, leaving his job, took his personal belongings, and he carried them with him.
- The clerical knife will have to be left, this is a weapon!
- What kind of weapon is that?
- Cold, you can easily cut a person with it!
- Okay, take it. Am I not dangerous now? Laptev asked sarcastically. The customs officer silently handed him a gutted bag.
– Yes, now you are temporarily not dangerous. What's up with your fingers? - The customs officer looked suspiciously at Sergei, and then at Misha and me.
- This is congenital, comrade officer, we are taking him to Thailand for an operation.
Finally we were in the international zone. The scent of perfume and coffee hung in the air. Where should a jaded gentleman go: to a bar or to duty free? The triumphant Laptev turned his head in all directions.
- Friends, I'm in the smoking room.
- Seryoga, you don't smoke!
- I don't smoke tobacco. But what am I, in vain arranged these distracting maneuvers on the frame?
With a polished movement, Laptev took a small plastic cigarette case out of his pocket and showed us its contents. When I realized what kind of cargo our crazy friend smuggled through customs, my back hair turned gray. Inside the cigarette case were three jambs, decorated with colored stripes. Sergey began to explain:
- Red is Cupid's Arrows, blue is Mad Macaque, and black is Wind Whisper.
- And what does it mean?
- Rabid Macaque increases aggressiveness. "Arrows of Cupid" are conducive to romance ...
– What for to you it in the plane? Misha got in.
- ... And "Whisper of the Wind" - soothes! That's it. Who is with me?
- Nobody! Come on, you fucking nerd! - Makarov turned Seryoga towards the toilet, and he cheerfully walked away. We looked after him, foreseeing something was wrong.
“What if he mixes it up and smokes the Mad Macaque?”
“The knife was taken from him. It will rage - we will connect.
Having released Laptev to meet his demons, we decided to follow the traditional path and collected tequila and rum in duty free. After standing in a short queue, we went to the cashier.
“Girl, put one more bag on each of us,” I asked.
– Why is this?
- And last time my handles broke off on the ladder. The tequila broke and had to be licked off the steps, no lime or salt.
Leaving Misha to pay, I went to the bar. Sergei was already there. He was talking enthusiastically to the busty bartender. Judging by the burning eyes, our grasshopper still got the “Arrows of Cupid”. OK. He did not beat anyone and did not run in a sheet, this is already good luck. However, the bartender had something to listen to:
“…That day we bombarded the plasma with fast neutrons. I was one step away from a sensational discovery. It remained to check the crystal lattices ...
A glass of cognac gleamed in the speaker's hand. Apparently, not so long ago the glass was full.
"Isn't it too early, Sergei Stepanovich?"
Just yesterday the statute of limitations expired. Now I can tell the world about the terrible tragedy that happened to Professor Salier.
- It is you? The girl blinked at me in surprise. I did not have time to answer, Laptev did it for me.
- What? No, this is Artyom Ilyich, my colleague. And this is Luda.
- That's noticeable.
– Artyom Ilyich is a fifth-generation nuclear physicist. So I will continue. On that terrible day...
I cautiously looked at Sergei. I don’t know what they sold him there under the name “Arrows of Cupid”, but cardinal changes took place in Laptev. From a skinny botanist, he turned into a heroic personality: his posture improved, metal rang in his voice, the eyes of the Nobel laureate lit up with genius.
- ... on that terrible day, Professor Salier and I worked in the particle accelerator. Everything had gone wrong since morning. My hands were trembling from exhaustion...
- So, what happened? “People were bursting with curiosity. I decided to connect to the play and intercepted the thread of the conversation:
– Just at that moment I was supposed to bring Sergei Stepanovich a special stimulant and I was already approaching the door of the accelerator, and then… sorry, Lyuda, tears are choking, splash me some rum…
- And me Roma, Lyudochka.
“Maybe you won’t interfere, Sergei Stepanovich?”
- To whom? To you? In what? So I will continue. As soon as Artyom Ilyich approached the door of the accelerator, a terrible explosion sounded. I was thrown to the reactor, and the professor, oh, sorry, he, he ...
“We couldn't save him. And Sergei Stepanovich's fingers grew together after falling into the reactor core. And on his feet...
- What about the legs? - Misha, heavily loaded with packages, approached the bar.
– And this is Mikhail Matveyevich, Doctor of Technical Sciences, – pushing Misha with my elbow, I whispered: – We are nuclear physicists, play along.
– Mikhail Matveyevich, we just wanted to commemorate Professor Salie.
A tear rolled down Louis' cheek. Makarov blinked, not entering the situation. Laptev rolled his eyes theatrically, and I decided that it was time to put an end to history.
“Baby, don’t cry. We did it for civilians like you. And in memory of the professor, I carry this with me, - the glassy eye of the guard of the Kolosok restaurant hit the bar. Letting out a short sob, the barmaid fainted.
At the entrance to the plane, the flight attendant looked askance at our overflowing bags and reminded us that it was forbidden to drink alcohol on board. Misha was sincerely, childishly surprised:
"What else would you like to do with them?" Pour on the floor and let the boats go?
- Soon they will introduce a rule, and you will hand over bottles to the crew for safekeeping!
- And who will keep them, captain? Misha didn't give up.
– No, the captain is a little busy during the flight! Other people will take care of it.
– We can be them! Will you take half a bet?
- I see that you are drinking - there will be a scandal! – the stewardess has included inexorability.
“What if I do you an erotic favor?” - Misha was in his repertoire.
– What service?
- Show me your boobs!
- Yes, at least three!
Flying on a sober head is a perversion. What's wrong with business class? The fact that the stewardess sits directly opposite and does not take her evil little eyes off you. The champagne thimbles she gave us ran out immediately. There were no new ones. Boredom and anger sat on our armrests.
- It's just some bullshit! Misha fumed.
I myself was on edge, but I tried to distract him:
– But we are flying business class behind a mysterious curtain. And for lunch, instead of a plastic bun, they will give us a piece of meat.
- I do not eat meat! - Sergei Stepanovich added fuel to the fire, which finally drove me crazy.
“Then eat your plastic bag!”
- It's not cellophane. And polyethylene! And why are you so mean anyway?
- Because we, unlike you, Cupid's arrows passed!
- It's your own fault. I offered you. By the way, I still offer.
- Sergey, we will not smoke drapes on the plane!
- Misha, do not narrow the range of pleasures. While you were stocking up on tequila, I bought a bottle of gin and two liters of tonic. And now I have two liters of very strong gin and tonic. In a tonic bottle, you won't find fault! Voila!
Misha looked at Sergei, and in that look I saw how he granted Laptev forgiveness for all his past and some future sins. The plane began to accelerate, and we simultaneously with it. By the time Yekaterinburg disappeared behind a veil of clouds, we were covered with the strongest gin and tonic in the world.
I woke up from the fact that a seagull sat on my chest. Where I am? It smelled like the sea. Since the last thing I remembered was the plane, I immediately felt sick. Have we fallen? But how could I sleep through it? I think that the process was supposed to be noisy: screams, the roar of engines, hitting the water surface. The floor beneath me vibrated. I drove the seagull away with a loud wheeze, and with difficulty lifted my buzzing head. Nearby, under a tarpaulin, lay Misha, he was unusually quiet. Suddenly a hand landed on my shoulder. I didn’t have the strength to shudder and look around nervously, so I slowly unfolded the universe around me. Seryozha stood in front of me and held out a can of beer. This means that the plane did not crash: after the crash, beer is not issued.
- Where are we? I asked after a third sip of beer and a second breath of air.
– On the ferry, we go to Koh Phangan.
- Oh my God. How did we get on the ferry?
“First, we boarded the plane.
- I remember it.
- Then they drank, and you went to the toilet.
“I don’t know about this, because then we didn’t touch you. Towards the end of the flight, I began to feel restless with a slight admixture of anxiety. And Misha went to the pilots.
- Ask if you fell out. Then we found you. You were just talking to a flight attendant about nuclear fusion and suggesting they do it.
- What why?"
Why are you telling me everything in such detail?
- Well, I can tell you briefly.
- Come on, otherwise your details make me ashamed. Short!
Laptev took a sip of beer and briefly recounted the events of the last hours. Namely:
1) how at the Bangkok airport Misha was capricious and demanded to speed up passport control;
2) how I did not want to be photographed for a visa and grimaced like a petty demon;
3) how we were in the cut, while the plane (already different) carried us from Bangkok to the coast;
4) how the locals took pictures with us;
5) how Sergey collected money for this attraction;
6) how he used the collected money to buy beer, bus tickets to the ferry and the ferry itself.
“Water-s,” was heard from below. Misha came to his senses. Sergei began to give him beer, like a little chick.
- Misha, remember how you were eager to drive the bus when we were driving from the airport?
– Lapot, are you out of your mind?! I don't have a category for a bus.
- Did not have. And now there is! Hold on. You took the driver's license. You just need to change the picture.
- It's all because of you! Pumped us up with his gin and tonic. Cocktail, cocktail! So we have become cattle.
- Turned?!
- Phangan! - shouted a sailor who emerged from somewhere and, smiling, pointed into the distance. Straight ahead, the outlines of an island immersed in greenery appeared. He was wonderful. (The island, of course, not the sailor).
At the pier, all the tourists instantly fled, and we were left alone. Winter jackets and hats in our hands gave us a marauding look. A slanting taika approached me and with a bow handed over the booklet of the hotel.
– No, no, thanks. We need hotel «Russian star», how can we get there?
In response, the Thai woman muttered something in the local dialect. Misha grimaced in displeasure.
- What does she want? Hey, Seryoga, you know their language, explain to your aunt to get off.
- Souvaties. Sowty!
- Don't delay, ask how we can get to our hotel.
- Misha, I have only learned "good afternoon" so far. The rest is with a dictionary.
- Well, you and a ram, with a dictionary! Okay, let's go to her, otherwise we don’t have the strength, - Misha surrendered unexpectedly quickly. We certainly had no desire to argue, so we quietly got into the car offered by my aunt, drove to some hotel, made our way to our beds and fell asleep with the sleep of Stakhanovites.
Thailand is a wonderful sunny country in Southeast Asia. Jungles, beaches, monks, elephants, coconuts and beauties capture your consciousness immediately and irrevocably, pushing out fatigue and negativity. Any foreigner who arrives in Thailand is filled with strength, health and energy. The main thing is not to be in the cut at the same time, or at least to figure out where the floor is and where the ceiling is. But not everyone can do it. As one of my friends said: "Man is weak ... but port wine is strong."
When I opened my eyes, I did not immediately understand where I was and what biological species I belonged to. But I realized that this is my third hangover in three days, and I don’t like such arithmetic. I had to get up and stretch, but I only had enough strength to roll my eyes. I looked around and realized that we were in a hotel. Then I sniffed. Can you imagine what a hotel room is, consisting of beds, bedside tables and three men who have not washed for several days and pumped up alcohol? The air in this room can be cut with a knife and stacked against the wall like bricks. It’s good that we couldn’t take off our shoes before going to bed. It was unbearably hot and unbearably stuffy. A bead of sweat was slowly creeping down my temple.
– Hello! How are you? Wake up and go to the beach with us! These sounds were made by the talking head. She was in the doorway. And, most likely, attached to the body. A tanned face was adorned with a loose nose, covered with a net of blue veins. While I was thinking, the body and head reunited, and the stranger entered the door completely. It would be better if he didn't. His barrel-shaped torso rested on crooked legs, and long arms intimately covered his knees. The man was extremely hairy, as if he was preparing to join the Dagestan wrestling team. Maybe it's the local animator?
“Water…” came from below. Deja vu covered me. Misha has traditionally depicted the soil in our ecosystem, elegantly merging with the floor.
- Hi! I am Tom, do you need some help? - No, this is clearly not an animator. With such a nose, he would have been kicked out immediately after being accepted. Hearing incomprehensible English speech, Misha expressively dropped his head to the floor and mumbled in helpless despair.
- Hey, Claire! Maybe you can help them? Tom turned around and called someone. Now we admired his ass, covered in red shorts. The shorts featured a picture of a monkey eating a banana. I got stupid.
A moment later a lady appeared at the door. Her face kept traces of its former beauty, which were lost among the countless hemp. A tattoo of the famous Rolling Stones tongue on her shoulder and a t-shirt with a shamrock gave her a secular rebel. Slender, almost skinny Claire next to the thick and hairy Tom looked like a dystrophic gypsy next to her trained bear.
– Tom, shame on you! Leave the guys alone, let "s go!" - The door slammed shut, the strange guests disappeared, and I could no longer be sure that I had not dreamed of them. I stared at Misha, and he at me, just like at the end of scenes in soap operas, when the actors run out of text.
- Where are we? And what kind of freaks were breaking into us, huh? And why am I lying on the floor and you are on the beds? - Like Julius Caesar, Misha did three things at the same time: he lay, was indignant and filled the room with fumes.
- Misha, don't make noise, and your head is cracking! I pleaded.
- Is your head cracking? And my whole body is cracking! It's necessary, throw the trip investor on the floor like a dog! By the way, where is Seryozha?
“Uh-uh,” came from the other bed. It was difficult to understand what Laptev was doing: either repeating the alphabet from the end, or trying to tell us something.
- Laptev, use consonants, it will be easier! - with a hangover, my sarcasm triples.
- Oh, I found it. If only he was still talking, - Makarov began to gradually try to get up.
- Uh-uh ... it was you who fell on the floor yourself, I put you back three times yesterday, and you yelled that it was not so hot on the floor! – to Sergei returned speech. Who these two are, I don't know. But judging by the accent, they are from Britain.
Later we found out that Tom and Claire are indeed from England. They come to Thailand every year and rest on Koh Phangan for several months. British social security and a carefree life have turned these elderly partygoers into ideal consumers of local alcohol and recreational drugs. And when we started telling them about Russian realities, they laughed until they dropped. Open-mouthed like cuckoos, they waited for more and more stories from us during the evening gatherings. True, this did not happen often, because by the evening this couple usually cleaned up in the trash, destroying the persistent myth of the stiff English.
I started looking around the room. Imagine that you entered the elevator on the first floor, drove down, but instead of underground parking, you drove a little further and ended up in hell. The room reminded me of a rest room in the district center bus station. Usually in such cesspools there are four armored beds with lumpy mattresses. Three of them are constantly staffed by: a) an alcoholic supply, b) a convict who leaned back from the zone, and c) a sergeant who came to the military enlistment office for recruits and has not regained consciousness for three days. At a rugged table they thump burnt vodka with a label pasted upside down. The bottle was sold to them by the administrator (the owner of a giant bouffant of henna-dyed hair). She placed the basins under the beds. Life experience is a great thing.
But back to Thailand. There were no basins in our room, but there was air conditioning! Without getting out of bed, Sergei stretched his leg and clicked the regulator on the wall. A jet of cold air burst out of the device with a howl and pressed Laptev into the bed. The flimsy bed beneath him creaked. Looking at this, Misha laughed hoarsely and, groaning, got up from the floor. He stretched, and the crackle of his joints reminded him of a pioneer fire.
- So. First, I need a bottle of beer from the fridge.
Naive. It's hard to find beer in the fridge when you don't have a fridge. It took Misha twenty seconds to realize this. But he did not calm down.
- Laptev, where is my purse?
“Turn off the air conditioner,” Sergey croaked in a barely audible voice. After the flick of the switch, silence came into the room in assortment.
- Thank you, Misha, this is not an air conditioner, but some kind of jet engine.
- Don't go off topic. Purse.
- In the toilet she ... I hid her ... For reliability.
You have a very strange idea of reliability! Fuh, well, the heat ... - with these words, Misha went to the bathroom, closer to the water. Soon he jumped out and sat on the bed, clutching his purse to his chest. With such a look, anxious mothers of provincials entering the institute sit in the rector's waiting room.
- Misha, what happened, did you see Elvis?
- Everything is fine?
- Not sure.
I quietly peeked into the bathroom. Several green lizards the size of a large sausage stared at me from the walls and ceiling. One of the lizards drank water from a tap (which, judging by the thickness of the stream, suffered from prostatitis). Several terrible black cracks gaped in the wall, like in a ZIL radiator. Then it turned out that the holes were made for ventilation. There were also ventilation slots in the ceiling, only wider. Apparently, air molecules in Thailand are much larger than Russian ones.
- Seryoga, there are a lot of lizards, and they are looking at me. Without taking my eyes off the reptiles, I stepped back a couple of steps.
- Thank God, otherwise I thought that my galleys had begun! Already mentally "torpedo" sewn.
“These are geckos, they serve rooms,” said Sergei, who had begun to walk upright.
- Like this?
Geckos eat ants, and ants eat crumbs. The room is clean and everyone is happy.
- Do they roll a swan out of a towel, or do they need to smear the dollar? Misha scoffed.
No, they only clean up. The food chain in the service of tourism.
– Artyom, don’t you think that our friend is delusional? Laptev, did you screw up again while we were sleeping?
- This is Asia, geckos live here everywhere, - I supported Sergey.
“I live here, not some fucking geckos!” And I'm also going to beat the face of everyone who works here!
Misha resolutely pulled the front door towards him. And then he slammed it shut. In front of us was again the mother from the rector's waiting room.
- Guys, there is an elephant!
- Pink?
“See for yourself, young naturalist.
I looked out the door and froze, not finding the hotel corridor there. Instead, there were solid wallpapers. Not those wallpapers that are in rolls, but wallpapers from the monitor of my colleague Tatyana. The door of the room opened onto a lawn of emerald green grass. This lush greenery was crossed by a path strewn with reddish gravel. Directly overhead, palm trees rustled, some gigantic plants with large fleshy leaves pressed against their trunks. The air was filled with the smell of the jungle, the sun and the ocean, which began just behind the palm trees. Its waves impressively butted against the whitish sandy beach. There were sun loungers on the beach itself, and people lay motionless on them, and some of them were even female. One of the girls erotically scratched her stomach and pressed her lips to a cocktail. Besides me, an elephant was watching the girl. He stood a hundred meters from our bungalow. True, he was not pink, but with ears, a trunk and a pile of dung under his tail. To the left, Laptev leaned out in the doorway.
What, didn't you expect? We are not in a hotel with corridors where numb fellow countrymen fall out of the rooms. This is a bungalow in the middle of the jungle, with the sea at the doorstep! We are in paradise, gentlemen!
Sergey's mentoring tone began to irritate even such a calm person as me. And he generally brought Misha to white heat. Because, for health reasons, Makarov at that moment ignored all the good, concentrating on the bad:
- This is not paradise, but a wooden tent! I did not lay out a bunch of dough for lizards and elephants to run all over me! Where is the reception? - and he rushed across the lawn to the central building of the hotel. We are behind him. These were our first conscious steps on Thai soil.
Good afternoon.
Of course, I'll start with the hotel, the hotel area is not very large, but beautiful.
We lived on the 13th floor, the bed is normal, the room is spacious with a balcony.
Plumbing is old, but everything worked. In general, the room is normal.
Breakfast was included in our ticket, during all this time we went to breakfast only 1 time, the food was terrible, it even seemed to me that there were some insects in it, we didn’t go anymore.
The hotel itself is beautiful and large, the Chinese came to us all the time to look at the tower, there was a restaurant on the top, but everything was expensive there and we didn’t go.
The beach was private, compared to other hotels such as Jamtien, the beach here was very good, much better than the city, the photo is attached. But of course, if you compare it with the Dominican beach, you can’t compare it, in the Dominican Republic it’s 100% better, well, it’s the Caribbean.
There was also a water park on the territory almost, but it is paid, but the water park is cool, it's worth going.
You leave the hotel and there are a lot of cafes, we were in all of them, the prices are very low, we liked to eat every day at the Ogonyok cafe, everything is very tasty and huge portions, especially Tom Yang soup, and rice with seafood, very tasty. Drinking local beer Chang is also good advice.
Of course, outside the territory it smells of sewage throughout Pattaya.
We almost didn’t stay at the hotel at all, we rested for 14 days, and in 14 days we tried to travel around many interesting places where we just weren’t, in Thailand there are surprisingly very beautiful excursions and everything is very interesting, we really liked it everywhere.
Tours we took:
1. The crocodile farm is very interesting, fed the crocodiles, saw the show and other animals, even tried the crocodile.
2. The tour to Bangkok is amazing and very interesting, the city is huge, we went to the aquarium and to the restaurant to eat where to shoot the movie The Bachelor Party is very tasty.
3. River Kwai 2 days is just an unreal journey and waterfalls, and river rafting, Thai massage and insane atmosphere of love.
4. Be sure to visit the Khao KEO Zoo, my husband and I were delighted, we touched everyone and fed all the animals that were there, this is the coolest zoo I've been to.
5. Nong Nooch Park is a very beautiful place.
6. We were also at the Tiffany show, go to the show 69 1 time and it’s worth visiting, believe me.
7. There were white besok on the island of Samet, I advise you the purest water.
And of course the street is the most famous WALKING STREET must visit.
We have been to many other places and where we went, what can I say, if you are going to rest in Thailand, the hotel is not particularly important, it is such an amazing country that you will never be in a hotel, but in general, I recommend our hotel for sleep, relaxation, definitely not for food, but food at the hotel is not needed in Pattaya, everything is very cheap and tasty.If you are interested write about excursions.
Anna
Konstantin
nikolay
Andrey
Dmitry Lazarev
Julia
starikov
Tatiana
Oleg Lazhechnikov
Kachubey
Ekaterina Batova
