My annual visits to Koh Samui throughout the 1990s consisted of a train ride down to Surathani. There was no plane. A ferry ride over to the island. Booking a beach bungalow at Coral Cove and renting a Honda MTX 125cc motorbike to get round the island. Chaweng Beach was the prettiest stretch of sand in the Gulf of Siam. There were no hotels and the fanciest bungalows were located at the Jungle. The only nightclub was the reggae bar, but there were plenty of places to get drunk.
One night I met these two French people at a fish restaurant. We went to Chaweng Beach for drinks. They had some speed pills. We did two each. The effect was almost immediate. To counteract the jitters I downed a Valium. The combination of speed, downers, and Mekong defied my usual excellent sense of personal chemistry.
I recall going to the bar and ordering drinks for everyone.
After that I vaguely remember someone telling me I couldn’t drive.
Then lights out.
I woke up in the alley behind the bar. I was lying on a sagging table. It was raining. My bike was in the sand. My keys were in my pocket. So was my wallet. The only thing missing was an 18K ring, which might have been given to a girl. Something like that.
I was lucky.
I could have gotten on the bike and driven back to the Coral Cove.
I don’t think I would have made it.
That was my one drug experience on Koh Samui.
It was more than enough.
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