The Full Moon Party: Need I Say More

I have to admit that my desire to attend Thailand’s infamous Full Moon Party was fuelled largely – if not solely – by the street cred it carries amongst backpackers. Though relatively unknown/unheralded by my fellow Americans back Stateside, anyone that owns a travel-sized rucksack has heard the tales of debauchery that wash up from Ko Phangan’s shores at the ends of each 28 day lunar cycle. The rampant drugs, the sex, the blaring electronic music of more sub-genres than you’ve ever heard of, it’s the stuff of legend.

I can’t remember exactly when my ears had their my first encounter with these stories of the Holy Grail of parties. I can say with certainty that it was sometime during my first sojourn of length in Europe, long before I had even dreamed of coming to Southeast Asia. I was only just beginning to discover the piazzas of Italy and the cafés of France, and the idea of this magical Never-Never Land called ‘Thailand,’ with its beachside bungalows and hammock-citizen ration of 1:1, was about as tangible as a trip to the rings of Saturn. And then, there was this slightly ghoulish sounding ‘full moon party.’ Dancing the night away under the stars on a remote beach, miles away from the nearest care in world had (and still has) such an exotic appeal that it was instantly romanticized in my childlike fantasy to a degree that would forever remain untouchable in reality.

I won’t bother explaining the event itself in any detail. You know what a party is like. Take the biggest frat party you’ve ever been to, remove the frat boys and sorrostitues, replace them with backpackers and actual prostitutes, substitute a beach for the house and electronica for the Dave Mathews CD, eliminate the noise ordinances, trade the beers for buckets of Thai whiskey, throw in some thieves, add a lot of black light body paint, and multiply by a factor of 20.

It was alright. Nothing Earth-moving.

The Full Moon Party’s place amongst the great celebrations on my world-circumvention festival tour is hazy at best. On one hand, it’s a massive, world renowned, gathering of merriment in the middle of a tropical paradise. On the other, it lacks all the history, tradition, and cultural significance that all the other celebrations on my itinerary have. Call the Full Moon Party a Thai ‘festival,’ and Songkran and the Rocket Festival would simultaneously slap you across the face. It’s simply a blockbuster party, no more no less.