I will now attempt to recount what I remember from this epic night and the events surrounding it.

Clare, Lee and I are now settled fully into island life.

For breakfast, we’d have eggs and cigarettes at a little beachside café. Everyone smokes here, it’s insane.

I don’t normally smoke but thought I would try it on for size so I bought a carton at the duty free shop. That and a big bottle of Thai whiskey.

Mom, you must be so proud.

After breakfast we’d hang out at the beach all day. Then get ready and go drinking all night.

This was our daily routine.

I start to notice an unsettling trend.

Everyone around me appeared to be Australian supermodels. Wearing designer jeans, expensive linen shirts.

Here I was in my nerdy easy-dry REI cargo pants (the only pair of pants I brought) and some ugly t-shirt.

Plus, I was about 30 pounds heavier than everyone else.

I only witnessed one overweight person during my entire trip (walking on the beach in an inappropriate bathing suit) and everyone around me made jokes assuming she was American.

It was embarrassing.

To travel to a country where you felt uncomfortable touting your American status was unnerving.

But I avoided sewing the Canadian maple leaf patch on my backpack and did not lie when asked where I was from.

Go America.

We swam in the infinity pool at our hotel for a bit. The views were incredible. It was like we were in the middle of nowhere.

This amazing resort was only $35 a night!

This amazing resort was only $35 a night!

After we had freshened up, we took the hotel shuttle down the hill to our beach and arranged a ride to the main party beach with MR. HANDSOME.

Mr. Handsome was a comical bloke who sold sandwiches and drinks during the day and gave rides to all the parties at night. You would pay in advance and he would guarantee you a ride back to your hotel when the party was over

For like $5 bucks.

I didn’t know until the following night that how much money this ended up saving me. And how much trauma.

Well, we get in the back of a big truck with a bunch of other Brits and Ozzies, everyone excited about the events to come.

I heard not one stitch of drug talk. I was shocked. I always heard scandalous stories but never even once smelled any wafting marijuana or spied anyone popping random pills.


Instead, the three of us went to a booth, chose our booze and our mixer and watched as the bartender poured each into a bucket of ice and gave us three straws.

This was a bucket ‘o trouble!

full moon party buckets

I was never a big drinker before so I was not exactly equipped to deal with two seasoned alcoholics and a trough filled with exotic libations.

I never thought I would black out…