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Well, we've left the cozy jungles and lazy beach bars of Koh Lanta for the crowded jungles and packed beach bars of Ao Nang. Packing up at the abysmally early hour of 10 AM, we piled onto a songthaew and then watched as one, two, and eventually eight other backpackers tried to cram themselves and their massive luggages onto the tiny benches bolted onto the truck's bed. New friends, German and Dutch and French and English, accompanied us all the way to our hotels in Ao Nang. The familiar complaints about sketchy travel agencies, higher prices for farangs, and the difficulty of finding a language we all could comprehend provided an easy basis for casual conversation. We left the songthaew, clambered onto a battered ferry crewed entirely by fifteen year olds, and began put-putting for four hours across the Andaman Sea towards Krabi Town.
Halfway through the passage, a monster squall rose up and threatened to dash us against the gigantic limestone karsts that fill the Andaman waters. We took shelter in the diesel-smogged cabins and emerged an hour later to beautiful blue skies. To say that the weather here is schizophrenic is an understatement. Finally the ferry tied up,
disgorged the passengers, and then... we waited. For two hours. At high noon, without a functioning A/C or rotating fan in sight. There was a mix-up with the minivan tickets and while 14 passengers waited at the blue plastic bucket seats, only 12 tickets carried the "all-paid" stamp. Two passengers, in other words, were dirty rotten cheaters trying to get a free minivan ride to their hotels in Ao Nang.
It was, of course, those abominable Frenchmen. (Okay, I'd like to point out here that their travel agency screwed them and they had to pay twice for this bus ride-- Kendall) THOSE ABOMINABLE FRENCHMEN --SETH
And now we are here. The rats were discovered, forced to pay, and we boarded a bus for Ao Nang. The whole ride, we could hear an ominous clanking and grinding coming from the undercarriage of the bus. After our fiasco with the bus from Bangkok to Krabi, Kendall and I were anticipating yet another breakdown and five hour curbside wait to follow. It sounded like the wheels were about to fly off the bus, but somehow, we made it to our destination.
How to describe Ao Nang? Well, crowded, for one.
Ao Nang Beach
Anyone else see the bear's head? As one of the most famous white sand beaches of Thailand, Ao Nang is accessible from the Krabi airport and seems to be the destination of choice for any Indian or Chinese tourists who want to hop a flight to see the sands. To the extent that every restaurant in Ao Nang has hired an Indian guy whose sole job is to attack you with menus and entice you into the eatery. I mean, literally every restaurant has an Indian guy. It's sort of surreal. Their hair is excellent, though, and it adds a certain local charm.
Food? Way more expensive. Alcohol? Similarly more expensive. Even the tasty drunk-food cheesey sandwiches that they sell in 7/11 are 20 cents more expensive. But... the massages are cheaper! Huzzah! So we are gorging ourselves on the nimble fingers, knees, and wooden sticks of the Ao Nang masseuses and starving ourselves everywhere else.
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