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Staying on a small but busy island off the east coast of Thailand, I was rudely awoken at night by a terrible din. I ventured outside in my pyjamas only to find myself in the midst of the world-renowned Full Moon Party on Ko Pha Ngan! Well, never one to miss a party, I went down to the beach to catch the fun.

In the “World Party Guide”, a book given to me by a colleague as I left work, the Full Moon Party lists in the top ten international festivals, so with a lot of time in Thailand I thought I ought to try it out. I guess I was turning a blind eye to the fact that featuring higher in the chart were Glastonbury and the Notting Hill Carnival, two events in the UK that I have spent my youth studiously avoiding - largely through an aversion to mud, noise, and weirdoes.

To this end - and my perpetual quest for quality acquaintance is well publicised - I have been associating myself only with ravers who have also chosen heavy-duty footwear as they brave the bottle-filled beach. Still, I tried my best to join in.

As I sat before a seaside bucket filled with vodka, I reflected that Steve Evans was suspended from school for drinking a smaller amount. I’m sure he learnt his lesson and wouldn’t be found in these parts. If he’s not holding down a steady job in England, at worst he’ll be running some conservation programme in a poor Muslim country.

Anyway, the alcoholic onslaught (and of course the widely reported stronger drugs are reserved for those who haven’t been so well brought up - incidentally, I’m not familiar with Steve Evans’ record on such substances) was interrupted by my friends receiving reports of break-ins to their rooms, and so they ran back there (note their ability to do so - you wouldn’t do that barefoot).

My room operates a “lights-on only when the key fob is in the slot” mechanism, and, slightly unnerved by the others’ experiences, I spent some time ‘hacking’ the wall fitting - ripping it apart and sticking some safety pins across the circuit board using plasters - thus by-passing the mechanism and giving the impression the room was occupied when in reality I spent the next few hours on the beach. I did go back a few times during the night to check up on it, but less out of fear that my ingenious plan would fail to fool the thieves, and more because of the fire risk - I left it with a few sparks dripping off a blackened safety pin.

If only the Thais were as imaginative: at the Full Moon Party I was struck by how exactly the same it was as every other night on that beach! Only with more people (mainly weirdoes).

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It has long been known that my favourite animal is the elephant, so as a special birthday treat I signed up for a trek into the hills of Northern Thailand with the express aim of riding a wild elephant bareback. The two-day adventure included a spot of white water rafting, in which activity I hoped to save a stranger’s life, as John Prescott did so courageously in 2004.

In a throwback to the 2005 birthday celebrations, held with close family in a Berber village in Morocco, I was delighted that the trip involved an overnight stay in a hill-tribe village. After much questioning as to why a tribe might build a village at the top of a hill, rather than more conveniently at the bottom, I unearthed the truth that these people (immigrants to the nation) are forced for political reasons to remain in the mountains.

Indeed, after strumming “Happy Birthday” on an old guitar, the locals launched into a pro-Thaksin song which has been banned by the current military government since last year’s coup. I pledged my support for their freedom, but felt unable to commit British troops to their ends without a parliamentary vote, even if it was my birthday. After all, my efforts that day had fallen short of even our deputy prime minister (no lives saved, although happily none was lost). Please do not ‘dob me in’ to the junta while I am still in the country.

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Shortly before my departure from England, my good friend Andy presented me with his latest personal contact card which declared him to be “Explorer and Epicurean”. He probably considers himself to be a bit of a Jim Thompson, then.

Thinking he was a British actor who would appreciate a visit from a fellow countryman, I followed the signs to Jim Thompson’s House in Bangkok, but was surprised to discover this referred to the mid 20th century American entrepreneur and adventurer. The traditional-but-modern Thai house he had built before his unexplained 1967 disappearance in the mountains now exhibits the treasures he collected on his travels as a silk trader. As well as the obvious silks and tapestries, this includes various china bowls and teapots - just the kind of thing I recommended my father should ditch when we were packing up the Nottingham house the other week.

Still, the tour was interesting although the guide may have thought I wasn’t taking it very seriously when I suggested that “Tommo” hadn’t taken very good care of a particular Buddha statue. I was reassured when told the statue was lucky to have been saved from the ruins of a temple by Mr Thompson. Good old Jim.

In the event of my unexplained disappearance during tomorrow’s journey north to Chang Mai, I hereby give express instructions that the Docklands storage facility currently holding my possessions should be opened up as a museum. Artefacts of interest may be my travel kettle and a plastic bowl. Perhaps someone could throw in a tie or scarf or something to add a bit of variety.

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I escaped from Samet partly because the mosquitoes had pretty much destroyed my feet and ankles. Koh Chang was rumoured to be tamer (although those mosquitoes present may be malarial), so here I am with my feet up. This island is much bigger, however, and mobility is a problem. Others have suggested motorbikes, but with no riding experience I decided to see if I could flag down a taxi circling the perimeter road.

After quite a struggle I ended up somewhere other than where I wanted to be, and started to think that surely a teeny little moped couldn’t hurt? After complex negotiations about how I would be able to extend the hire beyond a day if necessary, and a brief guide to the moped’s controls, off I went. Not wanting to worry the owners, I was determined to set off confidently. The first stretch went surprisingly well, then I even managed a corner.

The photograph here shows the point 500m down the road where I fell off - according to a witness I was going too slow and the bike toppled off the road. Sorry I couldn’t get a picture of the bike wedged into the barrier with me underneath it.

Despite rather dramatic damage to the bike (shoddy engineering I say), my only injuries were grazes and bruises on my feet. The hobble back to the shop with a swollen toe, and then 5km home, was agony. But at least when the mosquito bites become too painful, I can focus on the injuries instead. And of course if the swelling and grazing is overwhelming, I always have my mosquito bites to fall back on.

So the search for a transport solution remains. I will enquire at the elephant hire centre, but I don’t think they really go fast enough.

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Avid readers will know that I love a good national park when I see one. The island of Koh Samet, south-east of Bangkok, is designated as such, although undeservedly in my opinion so far. Admittedly I have not ventured far from Jep’s Bungalows where I am staying, and animal noises from the jungle at night do sound potentially national park-like.

Today I located a map shop, tomorrow I’ll probably buy a map, and the day after I might explore a bit further. Watch this space, and also international press for stories of British holiday makers being eaten by gorillas.

Despite my “Jep Lies” campaign gaining traction on the island, I fell for his fraudulent sales pitch once again and signed up until Tuesday at the earliest.

Still, other Thais are more generous, most notably a chap called Dang who insisted on buying all the drinks. It reminded me of school when some wealthy Thai parents very generously paid for us to build a lecture theatre in our English public school - an unexpected reversal of the charitable campaigns asking for help building schools in poor countries.

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