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Published: January 6th 2009
Hat Ton Sai
The stunning rock formations at Ton Sai.When we arrived in Bangkok just a couple of weeks after the latest setback - the closure of the main international hub into the country - you wouldn't have guessed that anything untoward had occurred. The main tourist drag, Khao San Road, was as happening and pumping as ever, even at midnight - in fact, that is when it is probably most happening. Restaurants churning out Bob Marley songs, streetside cocktail bars serving any combo of spirits you wish for 80 baht, stalls selling everything you ever wanted, plus a million things you also wanted, but never realised you did.
It was familiar territory for me, and it felt no different from my last visit in 2005, or my previous one in 2000. The same hotels, shops, tour agencies, and pad thai stalls. All that had changed was the prices - 150%!w(MISSING)hat they were three years ago, but still cheap as chips compared to home.
However, it was
Tom's Feet
Having a lazy sunbathe at Hat Ton Sai... only a fleeting visit to Bangers - the proverbial One Night In Bangkok - as Suze and I were on a mission to the sultry south of the country, where we intended to catch up with some sunshine, some snorkelling, and some mates of ours who had recently moved there from Sydney.
So it was onward to Krabi, and then further onward, via minibuses and longtail boats, to the small beach of Hat Ton Sai, just around the corner from the more popular resort areas of Ao Nang and Railay. Being accessible only by boat, Ton Sai still has a rather scruffy and under-developed feel, despite the hordes of backpackers, the heavily-frequented beach bars, and dearth of vacant, cheap rooms. It was the quintessential traveller's beach - white sand, soaring rock formations at either end of the beach, and beer-and-pancake-peddling establishments scattered throughout the palm-fringed jungle beyond. The frenetic pace we had endured from Sydney to Ton Sai quickly decreased to beach-bum speed, and our lives, for a few days at least, became rather more simple. In fact, Ton Sai was the sort of place where decision-making was about as difficult as this:
1) Bar that plays Bob
Jungle
Walking through the jungle on the way to Railay Beach. Marley, or Jack Johnson?
2) Snorkelling, or kayaking?
3) Beer Singha, or Beer Chang?
4) Sitting on the swing, or lying on the bamboo beach mat?
5) Pad thai, or papaya salad?
6) Reading, or playing cards?
Our friends, Sarah and Leish, had moved in to an establishment called the Chill Out Bar, and we seemed to spend a large amount of time here, listening to music, playing cards, or drinking beer. In fact, this was where we spent New Years, and it was also the location where I displayed, not for the first time, some of the superior dancing skills that I seem to acquire as the midnight hour closes in.
After a bout of snorkelling, sunbathing, and swimming, Suze and I said farewell to Ton Sai, and ferried ourselves across the Andaman Sea to the large, relaxed island of Ko Lanta. Suze had been here a few years ago, and it sounded like just the place to see in the next milestone after New Year - my Dreaded Thirtieth.
We made our way to the southern, and less developed, end of the island, and found a rather beautiful and peaceful (apart from the screaming, drunk
Singha Loo
Ever wondered where your used Singha bottles go? Why, to build a new toilet/shower block for the bar staff. Swedes) beach called Klong Jaak. We then followed the usual pattern of behaviour of visitors to Lanta - we settled into a bungalow overlooking the ocean, and then rented a small scooter, on which we explored the nooks and crannies of the island, whilst trying to stay motorbike-bound amongst the potholes, mud, tuk-tuks, and other amateurish Western scooter-drivers, that filled Lanta's carriageways. We did a remarkable job of avoiding the dreaded Koh Samui tattoo (the mercurochrome-covered scrapes you see on all those tourists who have come a cropper on their vehicles), and saw pretty much all of the island. I would thoroughly recommend Lanta - it is by far a more relaxed and less-developed island than Phuket, across the bay, and is a fine place to indulge in the semi-hedonistic life of the average traveller to Southern Thailand.
So, my 30th came along, and Suze treated me to a Thai cookery course, which was run, strangely enough, by a Norwegian-American of Hungarian heritage. We seemed to drink more than we cooked, but we did learn some splendid dishes, all of which I intend to inflict on you when I get home, and none of which will taste half as
Chicken Island
I wonder why they call it Chicken Island? good as they did when we made them them on the course.
After a wonderful birthday, the sole downside of which was suffering a flat tyre on a dirt road, we journied back to the beating heart of Thailand - Bangkok, or Krung Thep, as the locals call it. As I said, nothing ever seems to change here. Khao San last night was the same mass of humanity from around the globe, flitting from kebab stall to T-shirt shop to pancake seller to pirated-DVD merchant to crazed Japanese street performer. We indulged in a whirlwind of shopping around Khao San, and, a couple of hours ago, Suze left for the airport, far from ready for her flight, or her return to work tomorrow. As for me, I have twenty days more before I have to be back at school/work, and my plans are suitably vague. Hopefully, when next I write, it will be from somewhere new and exciting, where I haven't been before...
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Ray
non-member comment
Sounded like an awesome way to spend your 30th!