Get this party started

At the height of every waxing moon, the Thai island of Koh Phangan, especially its southern coast, is assailed by an invading horde of young, white, scantily dressed barbarians. Wave after wave of backpack-toting twentysomethings pile off the ferry at Tongsala and are met by a gauntlet of touts who divert them to the countless resorts and guest houses that line the island's beaches.

I shoulder my way through the jabbering natives who thrust brochures and taxi-service placards at me and go searching for Betsy and Warren, who arrived a day earlier. I know the name of their lodging, Phangan Beach Resort, but not its location. A taxi driver offers to take me there, for 100 baht. So I grab a seat in the crude covered back of his pickup -- that's what passes for a taxi on Koh Phangan -- and off we go. Not 30 seconds later we arrive! I could have walked it in five minutes, but naturally the pirate did not tell me this.

This resort, like virtually every other halfway decent tourist accommodation in Thailand, is run by Westerners, in this case Brits and Germans. The bungalows are no-frills functional but clean: private open-air toilet and shower, a bed, electric fan and not much else, roughly $25 a night. But the covered dining porch has a lovely ocean view of Koh Samui, the next island over, and free wi-fi.

I meet up with Warren and Betsy, and we taxi in to nearby Haad Rin, where the action happens on Sunrise Beach.

Haad Rin is the world's most fortunate party village. Where Rio has its annual Carnivale and New Orleans its Mardi Gras, Haad Rin's high holiday happens every single month, sometimes drawing up to 30,000 revelers. As if that's not enough, the Full Moon Party has begotten the Half-Moon Party, the New Moon Party, the Gibbous Moon Party, the Sun Myung Moon Party, the ... but you get the idea. Permanently drunk on tourist dollars, Haad Rin has surrendered itself utterly to one purpose: putting on the most outrageous continuing mega-rave on the planet.

Friday morning the three of us escape to a much more placid beach to the east at Haad Yuan, accessible only via water taxi. We eat lunch at the wonderful Bamboo Hut -- where I will return on a future visit -- and while away the afternoon soaking up WAY too much sun.

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Back in Haad Rin for chicken sandwiches and beers, I see a sign for a nearby massage parlor, and an item on its list of services catches my eye.

"I'm going for that," I announce.

Betsy knows I've been looking for a little special pampering, but Warren is taken aback.

"Oh, c'mon," I say. "Dude, we're in Thailand. Like you've never wanted to try it?" He shakes his head.

So we agree to split up for an hour and then meet back at the chicken joint. As they wander down to watch the fire twirlers on the beach, I trot back to the massage joint for a long, luxurious $6 pedicure. That brave woman earns her 25% tip.