I’ll start with Khaosan Road as I overnighted there in Bangkok on my way to Koh Samed, and quite frankly it deserves a mention. Khaosan road is the wests gateway to SE Asia. Most backpackers flying into Bangkok choose to stay here before journeying elsewhere. It’s backpacker central. A combination of bars, guesthouses, food stalls, clubs, mixed with an open-air market make it a very lively spot. All of your senses will be assaulted with your first step onto the road.
Within a few steps everything from Valium to beer, women to ping pong shows, and gaudy baubles and debauched t-shirts was offered to me. I walked down the road enjoying the sights and dodging the drunken British gap year kids. Hungry after an 11 ½ hour bus ride, I finally stopped at the cheapest pad Thai place I could find, 35 Baht. To my surprise, an older British woman served my meal; it was delicious.
Fast forward to next afternoon and I finally arrived at Koh Samed. Hallelujah, it only took me a day and a half.
Koh Samed is the closest island to Bangkok. As such, it is the primary destination for local Thais. It usually gets skipped on the backpacker trail. Nonetheless, it’s a beautiful little island with white sandy beaches and warm water to play in. As soon as I arrived I immediately dove into the clear, lukewarm water. It was refreshing in ways that only salt water can be; it could have been cooler for my taste.
After lunch (Pad Thai again, but with crab and a heftier price tag) we wandered up and down the island, walking along the beaches. Finally settling on the decision to get a tower of beer (unique, so far as I know, to Asia) we wandered into a bar//concert venue; it was closed until the concert later that night.
Giving up, we stopped at one of many beach bars and settled for regular beers there. Eventually we made our way back to the concert venue where it was starting up. Finally able to order our tower of beer, we settled on a ledge about half way back from the stage. The opening band was a girls group that seemed to be part comedian, part band, and part show.
At one point they invited young Thai men on stage to have some sort of fashion show. On a bet, I began dancing and making my way up to the stage, one of the few phalang (phonetic for foreigner, potentially racist in context) at the venue I was invited on stage. I presented myself to the audience, danced, won my bet, and received a free shirt and hat to boot. Not bad for a half drunk white guy who can’t dance.
Eventually the band came on. The lead singer is possibly one of the most bad ass Thais I’ve ever seen. Weighing in at a solid 220-250 pound, sporting short shorts, red plaid button up, suspenders, and a fedora he belted out his music to the crowds great appreciation. During a break in his set, I had the opportunity to speak with him; turns out he doesn’t speak much English.
The next morning, beach adventure done, I would find my self headed back to Bangkok, once again, this time en route to Malaysia.
Drive eleven hours, wait in line for four hours, set your campsite up at dawn, and crack a beer. You’re camping for the next four days in blistering heat. Don’t expect to sleep, take a shower, or eat anything healthy. You’re at Bonnaroo; it’s going to be a ride.
We arrived in Manchester, TN in essentially the exact fashion described above. We managed to set our campsite up just as dawn was breaking. At probably 6:30 or 7:00 we laid our weary heads down to sleep. At 8:30 or 9:00 we woke to blistering heat that made sleeping all but impossible for the entire trip.
Our first day was spent wandering around the campsite, finding the water station, discovering Centeroo, and generally preparing for the next four days. It became quickly apparent that the mid-day heat (roughly 9:00-4:00) made it impossible to do anything save hide in the shade. We quickly discovered how lucky we were. Our campsite was closer to Centeroo than anyone could have hoped for. It was also close to water, fresh, clean, gloriously cold, water. Water, how I love thee.
As soon as the sun began setting, the temperature dropped dramatically and it actually became quite comfortable out. And that is when everyone started coming out of their campsite and entering the actual festival grounds. What seemed like an inordinately large number of people to begin with quickly double, triple, quadruple, quintupled… you get the idea. I cannot explain how massive this festival is. It’s hard to quantify just how many people 100,000 people are until you actually see it. I digress.
Back to our campsite, eleven of us setup four tents between three cars. Your camping space is almost directly proportional to the number of cars you bring. They pack you in. Two rows of cars (barely enough room to walk between them), two rows of tents, etc. All filling a 700 acre farm. It’s one giant hippie paradise, open air drug market, frat party (well kinda), flea market, and show wrapped into one. I imagine many people come purely for the experience of camping, caring not for the music.
I do, however, care about the music. Few shows were of interest to me the first night, I either didn’t know the performer (usually the case), or didn’t like the music. So I followed my friends around. The two outstanding performances of the night, neither of whom I knew or was expecting, were J Cole and Childish Gambino. They both blew me away, and I don’t particularly like rap. Granted, I had never been to a live rap performance. As it was the first night, the acts closed fairly early; I managed to get my only decent (probably four hours) sleep of the weekend.
Repeat the blistering heat of the morning, hiding in the shade, and making desperate rushes to the free, cold water, and cheap bags of ice. Once the sun goes down, be prepared. The second day was filled with music. Our first band was the Decemberists. As always, they were incredible. I’ve seen them now three times, and each time I am wholly impressed. Following them was Florence and the Machine, Arcade Fire, and several other shows. They all tend to blend together. I would have liked to see the Arcade Fire up closer, and for their entire set, but it was not in the cards. I will have another opportunity I hope.
Onto Bassnectar
You do not go to see Bassnectar, you experience him. That is the only way to explain it. His show engages all your senses in ways that you cannot imagine. The crowd knows this. The crowd is excited. We arrived roughly an hour early. His stage was already packed with people waiting, energetic and excited. The energy in that tent, prior to the show, was an experience in and of itself. A technician would set a computer up and people would cheer; everyone jostled to be closer to the stage; kids in gimp suits crowd surfed for position. And then he came on.
Dance, sweaty and hot and sticky and foul, dance out every ounce of water in your system, dance until your whole body hurts, breaks past the point of exhaustion, dance because you can do nothing else. You don’t have a choice. The lights, the sounds, the energy, the crowd, everything and everyone around you is compelled to follow the music. And when it’s over, beaten and bruised, more dehydrated than you’ve ever been in your life, all you want is for the music to start up again – to keep going.
Instead you go for water, finally listen to your body. Your hands, literally, are pruned from sweat, yours and a hundred of your best friends you just met. After sitting for a few minutes and listening to our desperate bodies, get water we did. And then a short trip to another stage to see Ratatat. They also wowed me. Ratatat is electronic music with an electric guitar and an extremely trippy light show. They’re one of my new favorite bands. And I loved their show, completely forgetting they were delayed by half an hour due to technical difficulties. That’s how good they were.
After that, a failed attempt at sleeping.
Night three began later. At this point, the lack of sleep, the excessive drug and alcohol use, the poor food, and the heat are starting to catch up, starting. The big show of the night: Eminem. And he killed it. I have never really listened to him, but then you forget just how many songs he has. Imagine 100,000 people all singing along to the same person, doing exactly as one man bids. Sing this, chant that, and 100,000 people obey. It’s an electrifying experience. And afterwards, more dancing – STS9, and Girl Talk. Unfortunately, Gogol Bordello was over by the time we got there.
And the last day I was done. We left for Centeroo much earlier, planning on leaving at about 6:00 in the evening. We all had long drives. By about two in the afternoon it was too hot for me to stay out, though there were a few bands I wanted to see, most notably Explosions in the Sky. Instead, I took a shower, ate some decent food, and generally allowed my bone weary body to recover.
And after all that, what do I think? I would do it again in a heartbeat. What an incredible experience, the grime, the music, the fun and joy, the people, the heat, the dust, everyone and everything. I loved every minute of it.
