‘Do you want to go to a Buddhist temple?’ Chonticha asked in the morning upon waking up.

‘Of course, I'd really like to!’ What about your mom?’.

‘Today is Sunday and my sister is free to take care of her.’

After a late breakfast, we got on the motorbike and rode off. As we were leaving Bang Tao, Fanny wore her helmet while I went without one, feeling freer and confident that at these slow speeds there was no real danger. Though it was hot, I was getting used to it and the heat didn't really bother me. I hugged Fanny and from time to time she would pat me tenderly on the thigh.

The temple covered a large area and consisted of several buildings. There were many tourists, mostly from China. Most of them entered one of the buildings near the gate, so we joined the queue there. Inside, on three floors, there were various Buddha figures. There was also a sitting mummy on the first floor, probably the remains of a local guru, surprisingly well-preserved for such weather conditions. On the second floor, we found seven Buddha figures, one for each day of the week. It turns out that Fanny and I were both born on a Tuesday, which seemed to fascinate her.

We proceeded to walk around the temple grounds, where we bought various talismans to hang around our necks and wrists. Ceremonies were beginning in the main building, so we decided to go in. The hall was filled with monks in orange and yellow robes, all sitting on the floor. One of them read something from the cards in front of him, and the rest repeated after him in a singsong-like voice. It sounded a bit different from the prayers of Tibetan monks. There were a lot of tourists inside, standing by the walls, and it was very stuffy despite the windows being open widely. We left after a short while, as the whole thing was very monotonous and I didn't understand anything. Fanny hadn't really felt it, either.

We left the temple area and headed towards the hill, where the “Big Buddha” – a huge statue of a seated Buddha – was visible in the distance. We had to go up the hill and Chonticha's motorbike struggled at times. I had to get off at the steepest slopes and carry my eighty kilos on foot. On the way, we passed a board encouraging us to ride elephants. Fanny wanted to go there, but I didn't; in my opinion, these elephants were clearly exploited, and I didn't want to be involved in such antics. Fanny looked surprised, but I wasn't going to explain the intricacies of my philosophy on life and my attitude towards animals. Anyway, I don't think she understood half of what I was saying, especially when I brought up more complex issues.

We climbed higher and higher, finally reaching a large car park, crammed with motorbikes. Masses of people flocked around and went inside the Buddha statue. You could go to the top of the stairs, which were still in the finishing phase, or go inside, into a huge empty hall which would soon be a temple.

Around the Buddha there were stalls everywhere, filled with all kinds of rubbish, some of which had nothing to do with the Buddha. I bought a hat to protect my head from the scorching sun we'd been in all day.

We began the journey back the same way, with me getting off the bike now and then as Fanny was worried we'd tumble down the hill. At times, the incline was so steep that I slid down in my flip-flops, as if I was skiing.

It was getting late, so we decided to stop for dinner on the way. There were plenty of outdoor restaurants to choose from, so we settled on a random one that had open seating and parking for the motorbike.

The top of my head was burning! I realized I had been sunburned. Fanny ordered food and drinks, then ran across the street to the pharmacy to buy aloe vera gel to soothe my skin. Relief was immediate.

We were sitting quite close to the road, with a river flowing on one side and a wide street on the other. Our waiter had to cross this street to bring us our order, as the kitchen was on the other side. I watched him running back and forth, weaving between cars and motorbikes. He was doing quite well, considering the Thai driving style – aggressive and not overly polite. I jokingly suggested a bet to Fanny that the waiter would knock over the food, but Fanny just chuckled and refused to take me up on it.

Somehow, the food was delivered to us without any major problems and I found it quite tasty, although Chonticha shook her head in disapproval. When the bill came, there was a bit of an awkward situation since I was paying, but I was basically just an observer. Fanny read the bill, poking her teeth with a toothpick, then called for the waiter. The conversation, which I obviously didn't understand, was short but quite aggressive. The waiter, looking absolutely disgruntled, ran into the kitchen and brought another bill. Fanny looked at the numbers and let me pay. I asked her whether I should leave a tip or not. “As you wish, but I wouldn't leave one, the food was really average, and the waiter cheated on the bill.” Despite this, I still left a few Bahts on the table.

Evening was slowly approaching, so we headed towards the hotel. There was one more thing I had to do. The “launch of my space shuttle” had been weak the previous night and, if I didn't want to embarrass myself again, I had to “boost” things. As we passed a pharmacy, I shouted over the wind and asked Fanny to stop.

The pharmacy was empty, with a woman dressed in black, half of her face covered, behind the counter. I asked if she had Viagra, and she shook her head no. I smiled crookedly and asked again, making sure she understood me.

‘We don't sell things like that,’ she said quietly, smiling a little through her eyes.

I looked around with uncertainty as I could see that I was at the pharmacy!

Well, no means no.

Funny laughed on me when she heard what happened. She said that they do not sell the blue pill in this Muslim region, as well as not selling any alcohol in any store here. I got onto the bike, and we drove literally for about five hundred meters to the next pharmacy, which wasn’t run by the Koran principles.

I ran up the three steps and found the store empty, which I was thankful for, as buying such drugs was a bit embarrassing. The saleswoman was dressed as regularly as possible, and she put something on a shelf with her back to me. Suddenly the front door slid open, and three people entered, speaking in English and drawing the attention of the saleswoman who turned around, smiling friendly at me and asking what I wished for.

‘Can I get ... eh... Viagra?’ I almost whispered, leaning hard across the counter towards her. ‘Viagra!?’ she asked loudly. I glanced at the other customers, thinking they were smiling in a way I didn't quite like. I nervously confirmed my request.

‘Real or substitute’, she asked again.

What a nightmare. This transaction went on forever. Resigned, I asked about the difference in price between the real and the replacement. The bogus was twice as cheap, so I decided to take the risk. I left the store quickly, followed by the ironic smiles of the others.

In the evening, it turns out that my generic was extremely successful, and the money hadn't been thrown down the drain. It was a bit like a crazy boat ride to the Phi Phi Islands, and it ended up like a tsunami.