Travel blog: Monsoon partying in Thailand

Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. Here is his 16th blog entry:

Of course, no budget visit to Bangkok would be complete without checking out Khao San Road, but crashing down in this almost folkloric backpacker ghetto was bewildering, exciting and exhausting in equal measure.

I arrived as the night-life hit full swing and had to spend an hour trekking from guesthouse to guesthouse looking for a free bed. I'd thought the days of notorious, bedbug-filled Bangkok hostels are generally in the past - I'd been told you can even get a roof pool on Khao San Road now - but I still managed to end up in an old-school dive for just 200 baht (£3.20) a night.

The Merry V Guesthouse's peeling paint, shifty staff, stained mattresses and broken fans didn't matter to me by the time I threw my bag down at around 1am. After eight hours on a bus all I wanted was a drink - and that certainly wasn't hard to find.

There's all you'd expect from the world-renowned party hotspot including ridiculously cheap alcohol and marauding packs of western tourists.

At night you're always accompanied by the thudding noise of clubs and the ever-present threat of being completely fleeced by the hordes of touts. But by day you shop for cheap souvenirs and supplies in relative peace - while also picking up one of the much-talked-about fake diplomas or driving licenses.

With the streets near empty till sunset, the area seems to work on a schedule completely of its own. Some travellers fall into the Khao San time loop - repeating identical nights of gaudy neon-lit drinking for weeks on end. Of course it's no cultural feast but it's just all too easy.

Luckily, I wouldn't have a chance to be caught by that trap. My hangover from the first night lasted until I met my sister at the airport and we only had time for a short tuk-tuk tour of a few local sights (around 400 baht or £6.40 for a few hours) before we were on a bus (600 baht or £9.60) and joining the tourist pilgrimage south to the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan.

Just as Khao San is preceded by its reputation, few travellers in South East Asia are short on advice about the Full Moon party.

Tales of debauchery and drunken lunacy are mingled with warning of rip-offs and muggings.

Some swear by staying right in the centre of the action, while others warn of rooms being raided while everyone's happily downing buckets under the flashing lights on Haad Rin beach.

I ran into one couple who sold me on the idea of staying at Maenam Beach on the neighbouring island of Koh Samui. Boats run across all night long so you can party till past dawn without any worries about coming back to a ransacked room. Keen as ever to avoid any unnecessary aggravation, this had definite appeal!

The two days before the full moon were spent catching up with my sister exploring the budget travel haven of Chaweng town and lounging around Maenam's spotless beaches.

Staying at Lolita Bungalows may have cost a little more than I was used to (double bed bungalow - 1,500 baht/night or £24) but it was certainly a different experience than the shacks and dorms on Tioman and Perhentian Kecil back in Malaysia. Coconut cocktails and surfside massages (around 150 baht or £2.40) are hard to criticise really!

This left us suitably relaxed and ready to join the 20,000 or so other backpackers hitting the Full Moon party. It was just getting there that proved problematic.

I'd been quite pleased with the plan to stay out of the way on Samui. It was all set to be a perfect blend of hassle-free hedonism - but the weather had other plans. As we were waiting for our ride to Koh Phangan, the skies darkened and the heavens opened.

It settled in to a stubbornly torrential monsoon downpour - leaving us stranded in the shelter of the bar.

Groups of huddled tourists made a sterling effort to keep the party spirit going by buying out the bar as the owners looked on gleefully. But for well over an hour we looked despairingly across at the dancing lights of Koh Phangan.

Soon our worries about the weather were replaced by an even greater concern - the bar was running low on alcohol. Turns out they were unprepared for a throng of thirsty Full Moon partiers with nothing better to do but drink. We needed a break in the clouds - and fast.

Thankfully, the rain eased and we could soon see the lights of the boats coming over to pick us up. Twenty minutes later we were let loose on Haad Rin, nodding our heads to the beat and our first buckets of the night in hand.

Drunkenness ensued. People danced. Shirts were lost, beers were downed, surf was dived into and fire ropes were jumped. It was a beautiful night meeting beautiful people but oddly I think a better word to sum it all up is professional.

This is clearly no thrown-together rave up in the woods - they've been doing this every month for years and it's been perfected to run like clockwork.

Of course, this makes it almost hassle-free, but it's just that compared to my expectations of the 'biggest beach party in the world', it was perhaps a shade on the tame side.

Obviously, none of that matters when you're bouncing down the beach with a bucket of booze in one hand and another on your head!

Not my most stylish moment, I admit…

Nick Claxton