We left Chiang Rai early last Tuesday morning, to make our way to Laos. A minibus took us to the Thai border, where we got our exit stamps, then a short boat trip across the river marking the border between the two countries (is this river in no country?) took us into Laos immigration, where we got our visas, eventually, after much waiting and a frankly bizarre attempt by one of the officials to return to me every passport except my own (including those of some men, and one middle-aged French woman: he looked at each of the photos before asking if it was mine.) We were then deposited in the back of a truck and taken to the slowboat pier, where the chap from our tour company informed us, as he was running back to his car, that the boat was leaving two hours later than we had been told. Never mind. They do call it a slowboat, after all.
The trip down the Mekong river into Laos is spectacularly beautiful, and by far the best way of entering the country. You have two options: the speedboat, which takes six hours, or the slowboat, which takes two days. Seems like something of a no-brainer... However, the speedboats require you to wear a helmet, are endlessly noisy and have a somewhat unfortunate predilection for exploding into smithereens should they come into contact with anything solid, like, say, driftwood, or weeds. So we went with the more time-consuming, but less life-endangering option. The more sedate pace of the slowboat lets you savour the spectacular views, and despite the uncomfortable wooden benches, was well worth doing.
After a long, hot and uncomfortable journey, our expectations of Luang Prabang were high - it had to be worth it! Luckily, it was. The whole town is UNESCO World Heritage listed, and this, along with a comparatively low number of tourists, has ensured that it has retained all of its charm without selling out to the 'falang' (foreigners), like much of Thailand has. The streets are wide, well-maintained and clean, the buildings are French colonial in style and utterly charming and the whole place has a relaxed, quaint friendly feel to it. In keeping with it's colonial history, food in Luang Prabang is fantastic, our favourite being the street baguette vendors. Our hotel was also excellent. In fact, everything in Luang Prabang was. Sorry to gush, but it really is a special place.
As well as preserving (the good bits of) the town's colonial history, UNESCO and the government are keen to maintain the local Laos traditions. To this end, there is a curfew in place that requires all businesses to close by 11.30 and everyone to be home by midnight. This only adds to the fairytale-like charm of the place, though I suppose you're more likely to end up in prison than turn into a pumpkin. The curfew is designed in part to protect the traditional daily life of the devoutly Buddhist locals, where the day starts at 5.30am with alms-giving to the local monks. Women place mats at the side of the road and kneel, and hand out sticky rice to a procession of monks. It's a beautiful and sacred sight, which a wealth of information available locally asks you to observe with respect. Unfortunately, some tourists just can't help themselves. We watched in horror as one women walked up to within two feet of the monks and knelt down to take close-up photos. Some tourists even buy rice from street vendors and join in. It's sad to see a sacred tradition abused as a tourist attraction, and it seems like despite the best efforts of the authorities, there will always be some selfish Westerner who can't think of anything except getting a good photo.
As well as getting angry with tourists, we spent our time in Luang Prabang visiting the museum, a former royal palace whose most important inhabitant now is the Pha Bang - a sacred Buddha statue after which the town is named; climbing far too many steps up a far too big hill on a far too hot day to see some temples (admittedly beautiful, I'm just not much of a climber); visiting a local market, where a toddler, after some encouragement from her Dad, squirted us both in the face with a water-pistol; and getting a traditional Laos massage at the local Red Cross, which was pleasingly firm while also a good deed.
Speaking of good deeds, we also had a chance to drop into a local charity called Big Brother Mouse, an amazing organisation that works on writing and printing books for Laos children, both translations of classics like The Wizard of Oz and new stories of their own. There is a huge lack of printed books in Laos, and the few that are available tend to be either a little on the dry side or only available in English. Big Brother Mouse was started as a way of introducing Laos children to the joy of reading through interesting, well-illustrated books that would fire the imagination. We went along to a session they run for local kids to meet tourists and practice their English, and spent a really interesting couple of hours talking to teenagers who really appreciate the chance to show off their language skills, improve their pronunciation, and (in one case) mischievously ask how they might acquire an English girlfriend.
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Chiang Rai, Thailand: Mad dogs and Slash impersonators.
After a three-hour bus that wound its way around hundreds of very curvy, steep bends (motion sickness tablets essential) we arrived in sleepy little Pai - home to a relaxed community of snoozy Thais and 'far out' expats. We stayed in a dingy little wood hut with a tatty mosquito net hanging from the ceiling to tuck under the corners of the mattress - as tends to be the norm in Thailand's more remote places.
We liked Pai, though sadly were not presented with the opportunity to eat pie in Pai, which would have provided me with a brief moment of amusement, not to mention a better headline for this blog. We didn't try particularly hard, mind. So potential visitors to Pai need not be disheartened: there may well be some meat-filled pastry here somewhere, so don't despair.
The reference to mad dogs is to do with when Jacqui and I traipsed off to the other side of town in search of Be-Bop bar, which our ever-reliable guidebook (the famous one, with a name that rhymes with 'only granite') had informed us would be swamped with revelling locals come midnight, enjoying excellent live music and absolutely no sodding Bob Marley covers. Needless to say, it was deserted. After a brief drink at another bar nearby, we started to head back up the empty road towards the main town. At which point, out of the darkness, suddenly came three angry dogs, scaring Jacqui with angry barking and snarls revealing sharp teeth. I could see Jacqui was about to break into a run as they started following her. Fearing this would only make the dogs excited, I told her to keep walking straight ahead while I attempted to stare down one dog that was now fixed on me. This seemed to work - well, he stopped snarling anyway - but by now all the locals dogs were barking and some kind of canine territory war seemed like it was about to kick off. We kept walking, briskly, and left them to it. Pai is a great little place, but every bar and shop seems to have a guard-dog and they aren't kept tied up at night. You're fine on the main two or three streets but it's easy to get a fright if you go elsewhere after dark.
We also were happy to find a shop here called Apple Pai, which had a Mac computer with iTunes, where you could add music for 4p a track, movies for 50p and Family Guy episodes for 10p. So we loaded my iPod up with some extra provisions for some long journeys ahead.
Two days later, a three-hour bus followed by a four-hour bus delivered us to Chiang Rai, a pleasant (if not entirely thrilling) town that is a popular stop-off for tourists en route to Laos. The highlight here was the night market, with countless food stalls and live music laid on for the scores of tables (largely locals) enjoying the live acoustic music and dance.
Before we left I also had time for an oil massage, which was very relaxing (although I hadn't prepared myself for quite how vigorously the masseuse would pop my fingers and toes), as well as a meal at the Chiang Rai branch of Cabbages & Condoms (see Jacqui's earlier post from Bangkok on this excellent chain), which we located just in time before a storm broke.
On our way home we popped into Teepee Bar for a nightcap. This quirky little grunge den has guitars, bicycles and skeletons hanging from the walls and ceiling - as you do. I mention it largely because the patrons' dreary game of Jenga was at one point interrupted by the previously sedate Thai barman (here he is in someone else's photo) suddenly launching into an impression of Slash from Guns n' Roses when 'Welcome To The Jungle' came on the TV, complete with electric guitar, shades and replica wig. "I have many wig," he enthused, pointing to a rack on the wall, "You can try!" he said, in hope of a playmate. He had his own little rock hall of fame by the time we headed off for an early night. The next morning, we would be up at 6am to begin our two-day slowboat into Laos and the beautiful town of Luang Prabang.
We liked Pai, though sadly were not presented with the opportunity to eat pie in Pai, which would have provided me with a brief moment of amusement, not to mention a better headline for this blog. We didn't try particularly hard, mind. So potential visitors to Pai need not be disheartened: there may well be some meat-filled pastry here somewhere, so don't despair.
The reference to mad dogs is to do with when Jacqui and I traipsed off to the other side of town in search of Be-Bop bar, which our ever-reliable guidebook (the famous one, with a name that rhymes with 'only granite') had informed us would be swamped with revelling locals come midnight, enjoying excellent live music and absolutely no sodding Bob Marley covers. Needless to say, it was deserted. After a brief drink at another bar nearby, we started to head back up the empty road towards the main town. At which point, out of the darkness, suddenly came three angry dogs, scaring Jacqui with angry barking and snarls revealing sharp teeth. I could see Jacqui was about to break into a run as they started following her. Fearing this would only make the dogs excited, I told her to keep walking straight ahead while I attempted to stare down one dog that was now fixed on me. This seemed to work - well, he stopped snarling anyway - but by now all the locals dogs were barking and some kind of canine territory war seemed like it was about to kick off. We kept walking, briskly, and left them to it. Pai is a great little place, but every bar and shop seems to have a guard-dog and they aren't kept tied up at night. You're fine on the main two or three streets but it's easy to get a fright if you go elsewhere after dark.
We also were happy to find a shop here called Apple Pai, which had a Mac computer with iTunes, where you could add music for 4p a track, movies for 50p and Family Guy episodes for 10p. So we loaded my iPod up with some extra provisions for some long journeys ahead.
Two days later, a three-hour bus followed by a four-hour bus delivered us to Chiang Rai, a pleasant (if not entirely thrilling) town that is a popular stop-off for tourists en route to Laos. The highlight here was the night market, with countless food stalls and live music laid on for the scores of tables (largely locals) enjoying the live acoustic music and dance.
Before we left I also had time for an oil massage, which was very relaxing (although I hadn't prepared myself for quite how vigorously the masseuse would pop my fingers and toes), as well as a meal at the Chiang Rai branch of Cabbages & Condoms (see Jacqui's earlier post from Bangkok on this excellent chain), which we located just in time before a storm broke.
On our way home we popped into Teepee Bar for a nightcap. This quirky little grunge den has guitars, bicycles and skeletons hanging from the walls and ceiling - as you do. I mention it largely because the patrons' dreary game of Jenga was at one point interrupted by the previously sedate Thai barman (here he is in someone else's photo) suddenly launching into an impression of Slash from Guns n' Roses when 'Welcome To The Jungle' came on the TV, complete with electric guitar, shades and replica wig. "I have many wig," he enthused, pointing to a rack on the wall, "You can try!" he said, in hope of a playmate. He had his own little rock hall of fame by the time we headed off for an early night. The next morning, we would be up at 6am to begin our two-day slowboat into Laos and the beautiful town of Luang Prabang.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Chiang Mai, Thailand: kick-boxing and cookery.
We caught an overnight sleeper train from Ayutthaya to Chiang Mai, setting off at 9pm and arriving at 10am. It proved to be a great way of passing a long journey, as the bumpy train soon lulled us both to sleep in our narrow but reasonably comfortable beds. I had a top bunk, with Jacqui in a bottom bunk about 5 metres down the carriage.
We're staying a superb guesthouse called Green Tulip, which was recommended to us ages ago by a Dutch girl we met in Koh Chang. I'd highly recommend it to anyone staying in Chiang Mai. It's nicely decked out with lime green rooms, the Thai food coming out the kitchen is delicious, and the Thai lady in charge is endlessly helpful with enquiries about Chiang Mai and onward travel.
We spent our first night haggling hard at the night market. A decent amount of the stuff on sale looks locally produced and of decent quality. Many of the other markets we've been to in Thailand offer China/Taiwanese-made tacky stuff. Our code for such produce has become 'padded hats', as a result of my mishearing Jacqui describing one such stall as a 'pile of tat'. Bangkok markets in touristy areas are particularly prone to being largely full of padded hats.
On our second day we visited the Tribal Museum to learn about hill tribes. There's bags of info about them on the internet so I won't repeat it here, but the museum was reasonably interesting if a little dated. I especially enjoyed the following comment written in a five-year-old's handwriting in the comments book, accompanied by a large smiley face that said infant had drawn: "I Lick This Plase. Plese Do Somthing to mAck this PLAse evin Nicer." Bless.
Yesterday we went to a Thai cooking school for the day. It's called Siam Rice, and is already rated the number one in Chiang Mai and number four in Thailand less than two years since it started. We had a brilliant day - starting with a market tour to buy ingredients - learning to cook Thai curries, soups, salads, stir fries and desserts, and we got given all the recipes so hopefully we can replicate the tasty fodder we created here. Assuming we can find some of the more unusual ingredients such as shrimp paste, fresh turmeric and holy basil. I doubt Asda does a roaring trade on these items. In the evening we went to watch Thai boxing, which was good fun, though a few more Thais in the audience would have made it feel more authentic. I assume they prefer to attend boxing venues away from the tourists. Thailand has 60,000 professional boxers, so there's no shortage of little stadiums dotted around.
Today, we've largely been wandering around the city's excellent temples, with the highlight being Wat Chedi Luang, where the main dome (chedi) was heavily damaged by an earthquake in the 16th century. It's been restored to a point these days, but is a most striking site in the flesh. Cracking elephants around one of the lower levels too. Tomorrow we're off to Pai, a hippyish village about three hours from here.
We're staying a superb guesthouse called Green Tulip, which was recommended to us ages ago by a Dutch girl we met in Koh Chang. I'd highly recommend it to anyone staying in Chiang Mai. It's nicely decked out with lime green rooms, the Thai food coming out the kitchen is delicious, and the Thai lady in charge is endlessly helpful with enquiries about Chiang Mai and onward travel.
We spent our first night haggling hard at the night market. A decent amount of the stuff on sale looks locally produced and of decent quality. Many of the other markets we've been to in Thailand offer China/Taiwanese-made tacky stuff. Our code for such produce has become 'padded hats', as a result of my mishearing Jacqui describing one such stall as a 'pile of tat'. Bangkok markets in touristy areas are particularly prone to being largely full of padded hats.
On our second day we visited the Tribal Museum to learn about hill tribes. There's bags of info about them on the internet so I won't repeat it here, but the museum was reasonably interesting if a little dated. I especially enjoyed the following comment written in a five-year-old's handwriting in the comments book, accompanied by a large smiley face that said infant had drawn: "I Lick This Plase. Plese Do Somthing to mAck this PLAse evin Nicer." Bless.
Yesterday we went to a Thai cooking school for the day. It's called Siam Rice, and is already rated the number one in Chiang Mai and number four in Thailand less than two years since it started. We had a brilliant day - starting with a market tour to buy ingredients - learning to cook Thai curries, soups, salads, stir fries and desserts, and we got given all the recipes so hopefully we can replicate the tasty fodder we created here. Assuming we can find some of the more unusual ingredients such as shrimp paste, fresh turmeric and holy basil. I doubt Asda does a roaring trade on these items. In the evening we went to watch Thai boxing, which was good fun, though a few more Thais in the audience would have made it feel more authentic. I assume they prefer to attend boxing venues away from the tourists. Thailand has 60,000 professional boxers, so there's no shortage of little stadiums dotted around.
Today, we've largely been wandering around the city's excellent temples, with the highlight being Wat Chedi Luang, where the main dome (chedi) was heavily damaged by an earthquake in the 16th century. It's been restored to a point these days, but is a most striking site in the flesh. Cracking elephants around one of the lower levels too. Tomorrow we're off to Pai, a hippyish village about three hours from here.
Ayutthaya, Thailand: What a lot of wats.
Having suitably immersed ourselves, and slept off the effects of, Bangkok culture, we headed to Ayutthaya, the capital of the ancient kingdom of King U-Thong, to get some real culture. Having arranged a minibus transfer there, rather than the more popular organised tour, we found ourselves co-opted onto one anyway. The bus was shared with the tour group, and instead of arriving at the city centre as promised, we found ourselves arriving at a temple, and were informed that we could either join the tour or have a very long wait while they did the sightseeing. It turned out for the best though, as it saved us from a lot of hassle arranging our own transport between Ayutthaya's many, many temples, and the tour guide was quite a character - a particularly impressive wart on his chin sprouted six-inch grey whiskers and he made all words at least three syllables. He was also chock-full of useful information. Among the most impressive sights on the tour was the first stop, Wat Phu Khao Thong, the ruins of Wat Thammikarat and the mysterious Buddha in the bodhi tree at Wat Mahathat. And an elephant playing the harmonica. Seriously.
Ayutthaya is an island formed by the meeting of three rivers. We were lucky enough to stay in a fantastic old teak house on the riverfront called Bann Kun Pra. Our room was beautiful and full of antiques and a four-poster bed. As well as a fantastic location, the hotel also boasted the best restaurant we've found in Thailand so far. My mixed-fruit green curry was particularly special.
Traditionally, the only mode of transport in Ayutthaya was the river, and it's still pretty busy today. We joined in with a longtail boat trip taking us to a few more temples and showing us the sights of the city. The views were fantastic and it was really nice to experience the city as it was meant to be.
And just to counterbalance all that culture, we took a trip to a bar showing the Liverpool v Man Utd game on a big outdoor screen. The outside seating and half the road were packed out with local Liverpool supporters. Needless to say, that was a fun night.
Ayutthaya is an island formed by the meeting of three rivers. We were lucky enough to stay in a fantastic old teak house on the riverfront called Bann Kun Pra. Our room was beautiful and full of antiques and a four-poster bed. As well as a fantastic location, the hotel also boasted the best restaurant we've found in Thailand so far. My mixed-fruit green curry was particularly special.
Traditionally, the only mode of transport in Ayutthaya was the river, and it's still pretty busy today. We joined in with a longtail boat trip taking us to a few more temples and showing us the sights of the city. The views were fantastic and it was really nice to experience the city as it was meant to be.
And just to counterbalance all that culture, we took a trip to a bar showing the Liverpool v Man Utd game on a big outdoor screen. The outside seating and half the road were packed out with local Liverpool supporters. Needless to say, that was a fun night.
Friday, 13 March 2009
Bangkok, Thailand: A most excellent monarchy.
With my earache sufficiently painful midweek we delayed heading off to Ayutthaya from Thursday to Saturday, giving us a little extra time in Bangkok. So we decided to check out the National Museum in the hope of boosting our Thai history a little before we head north.
It's an interesting place, worth a visit, with far more useful information in English than Lonely Planet had suggested. Maybe it has been renovated. The most interesting stuff was to do with Thailand's monarchy. Ayutthaya became capital of the Siam kingdom in 1350, and from that time until 1758, the kingdom saw 35 kings over five dynasties. That's a new king every 11.7 years on average.
Furthermore, one of Thailand's more recent kings - King Mongkut, better known as Rama IV - had a whopping 82 children. Eighty-two! Mongkut is the 'King' in question in the popular musical The King & I. The plot comes from the memoirs of Anna Leonowens, a school teacher to the King's children in the early 1860s. That Mongkut produced 82 children is staggering enough - you read differing accounts of how many wives he had - but that he managed it on top of spending 26 years in a monastery is bordering on showing off if you ask me.
Yet despite all this colourful regal history, everyone's favourite Thai king is the current incumbent, Bhumibol Adulyadej. The longest-serving monarch in the world, he's at last brought some proper kingly longevity to the Thai throne. Sixty-three years at the helm and counting. Only Bhumibol and our Queen Victoria have gone past the sixty mark in recent centuries, although Lizzy's up to 57 so far. He's an elderly man now, but still as revered as he ever was. He's also the richest monarch in the world apparently.
But you won't begrudge him his wealth when I tell you that this is a man whose musical abilities (he's a keen saxophonist among other instruments) are such that he has composed 50 pieces of popular music; whose photographs are of such quality that international news agencies have in the past had him on their payroll; and who once won a gold medal for sailing at the Southeast Asian Peninsular Games - the only monarch to win a medal at an international sporting event. He has also spent the bulk of his time as King working tirelessly to raise conditions for the Thais, continually visiting needy provinces and looking for ways to improve the welfare of the poorest of his people.
This is a seriously cool king, and one who might make some of his British counterparts examine their work rate a little. Bhumibol makes you realise what a monarchy can achieve if the will is there. The majority of his family, notably Queen Sirikit and his daughter Princess Sirindhorn, are equally devoted to their people.
On a less formal note, we returned to the Brick Bar last night for another hilarious evening watching Thai students go wild to the house ska punk bands while sloshing back whisky and soda. Bear in mind that this large and impressive venue is bang slap in the middle of touristville, yet we were two of only a dozen non-Thais in a place holding several hundred. This is where Bangkok's trendy youths come to let their hair down and go properly bonkers.
Sadly, I'm on antibiotics so could only sup on Pepsi during this hilarious chaos. Jacqui's having a lie-in...
It's an interesting place, worth a visit, with far more useful information in English than Lonely Planet had suggested. Maybe it has been renovated. The most interesting stuff was to do with Thailand's monarchy. Ayutthaya became capital of the Siam kingdom in 1350, and from that time until 1758, the kingdom saw 35 kings over five dynasties. That's a new king every 11.7 years on average.
Furthermore, one of Thailand's more recent kings - King Mongkut, better known as Rama IV - had a whopping 82 children. Eighty-two! Mongkut is the 'King' in question in the popular musical The King & I. The plot comes from the memoirs of Anna Leonowens, a school teacher to the King's children in the early 1860s. That Mongkut produced 82 children is staggering enough - you read differing accounts of how many wives he had - but that he managed it on top of spending 26 years in a monastery is bordering on showing off if you ask me.
Yet despite all this colourful regal history, everyone's favourite Thai king is the current incumbent, Bhumibol Adulyadej. The longest-serving monarch in the world, he's at last brought some proper kingly longevity to the Thai throne. Sixty-three years at the helm and counting. Only Bhumibol and our Queen Victoria have gone past the sixty mark in recent centuries, although Lizzy's up to 57 so far. He's an elderly man now, but still as revered as he ever was. He's also the richest monarch in the world apparently.
But you won't begrudge him his wealth when I tell you that this is a man whose musical abilities (he's a keen saxophonist among other instruments) are such that he has composed 50 pieces of popular music; whose photographs are of such quality that international news agencies have in the past had him on their payroll; and who once won a gold medal for sailing at the Southeast Asian Peninsular Games - the only monarch to win a medal at an international sporting event. He has also spent the bulk of his time as King working tirelessly to raise conditions for the Thais, continually visiting needy provinces and looking for ways to improve the welfare of the poorest of his people.
This is a seriously cool king, and one who might make some of his British counterparts examine their work rate a little. Bhumibol makes you realise what a monarchy can achieve if the will is there. The majority of his family, notably Queen Sirikit and his daughter Princess Sirindhorn, are equally devoted to their people.
On a less formal note, we returned to the Brick Bar last night for another hilarious evening watching Thai students go wild to the house ska punk bands while sloshing back whisky and soda. Bear in mind that this large and impressive venue is bang slap in the middle of touristville, yet we were two of only a dozen non-Thais in a place holding several hundred. This is where Bangkok's trendy youths come to let their hair down and go properly bonkers.
Sadly, I'm on antibiotics so could only sup on Pepsi during this hilarious chaos. Jacqui's having a lie-in...
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Koh Lanta, Thailand: Sea gypsies and Sod's law.
Koh Lanta, a pretty island south of Phuket and close to Koh Phi Phi where the Leonardo di Caprio movie The Beach was filmed, was our next port of call. We managed to stay in a cheap, no-frills beach hut tacked onto the side of a more expensive resort with a pool. We had free use of the pool, even if the more wealthy - largely gooey-eyed honeymooning - guests had a slap-up breakfast thrown in, not to mention swanky (and more importantly rodent-proof) apartments. I woke in the night at one point and could hear something furry breathing noisily under the bed as it licked at an empty milkshake bottle of Jacqui's that it had pulled out of the waste paper basket. No idea if it was a mouse or a rat. Didn't really want to know...
We hired a driver to take us to a festival that was happening in town, and asked him to swing by a small village of Urak Lawoi sea gypsies first. I think in our heads we had visions of a quaint ramshackle place and a chance to see people from an ancient culture fishing and going about their business. In actual fact, we just felt like intruders. The 2004 tsunami destroyed many of their old homes and they have smart (but bland) new buildings in their place thanks to international and governmental assistance. We got some lovely shots of the little harbour and surrounding hills and islands, but walking the streets it just felt like we were being nosey. These people are not reliant on tourists and probably have little interest in them poking about and taking pictures. We tried not to overstay our welcome. The Urak Lawoi have an interesting culture though. A display in English at the local ethnic hall told us that they sacrifice a portion of their food - as much as they can spare - to the spirits of the forest and the sea. The sea is their natural home, some even spend their whole lives at sea. I hope I'm not saying anything inaccurate about them, having only picked up a smattering of knowledge. Needless to say, while it was interesting to gain an insight into their culture, they'd probably just as happily be left alone.
As for the festival itself, we spent a sweaty couple of hours wandering around different stalls, had lunch at a beautiful riverside cafe, and cooed over a batch of puppies that a couple of Canadian travellers were doing their best to help the Thai owners pass on to good homes or get sponsored. Random but fun. In the evening, we were heading to a bar to watch the Spurs game and called in first at 7-Eleven store to buy an extra torch (street lighting on Lanta isn't amazing). Having spent about 175 baht on the torch and long-life batteries, we were then immediately presented with a free torch each as soon we bought drinks at the bar - compliments of the bar, to help us get home safe. Isn't that just typical? Anyone need a torch?
Since then we've braved a mammoth 14-hour coach to Bangkok, preceded by a car ferry off Lanta that resembled a flat lump of concrete with an engine. Not sure how it floated. This epic ordeal was unpleasant enough for Jacqui, but nightmarish for me, as I struggled with extremely painful earache for the whole journey. The plan is to head up to Ayutthaya on Thursday if I'm back to normal. Things should get pretty cultural after two weeks of sun, sunburn and cocktails. Time to experience Thailand away from the package tourists before we head into Laos around March 24.
We hired a driver to take us to a festival that was happening in town, and asked him to swing by a small village of Urak Lawoi sea gypsies first. I think in our heads we had visions of a quaint ramshackle place and a chance to see people from an ancient culture fishing and going about their business. In actual fact, we just felt like intruders. The 2004 tsunami destroyed many of their old homes and they have smart (but bland) new buildings in their place thanks to international and governmental assistance. We got some lovely shots of the little harbour and surrounding hills and islands, but walking the streets it just felt like we were being nosey. These people are not reliant on tourists and probably have little interest in them poking about and taking pictures. We tried not to overstay our welcome. The Urak Lawoi have an interesting culture though. A display in English at the local ethnic hall told us that they sacrifice a portion of their food - as much as they can spare - to the spirits of the forest and the sea. The sea is their natural home, some even spend their whole lives at sea. I hope I'm not saying anything inaccurate about them, having only picked up a smattering of knowledge. Needless to say, while it was interesting to gain an insight into their culture, they'd probably just as happily be left alone.
As for the festival itself, we spent a sweaty couple of hours wandering around different stalls, had lunch at a beautiful riverside cafe, and cooed over a batch of puppies that a couple of Canadian travellers were doing their best to help the Thai owners pass on to good homes or get sponsored. Random but fun. In the evening, we were heading to a bar to watch the Spurs game and called in first at 7-Eleven store to buy an extra torch (street lighting on Lanta isn't amazing). Having spent about 175 baht on the torch and long-life batteries, we were then immediately presented with a free torch each as soon we bought drinks at the bar - compliments of the bar, to help us get home safe. Isn't that just typical? Anyone need a torch?
Since then we've braved a mammoth 14-hour coach to Bangkok, preceded by a car ferry off Lanta that resembled a flat lump of concrete with an engine. Not sure how it floated. This epic ordeal was unpleasant enough for Jacqui, but nightmarish for me, as I struggled with extremely painful earache for the whole journey. The plan is to head up to Ayutthaya on Thursday if I'm back to normal. Things should get pretty cultural after two weeks of sun, sunburn and cocktails. Time to experience Thailand away from the package tourists before we head into Laos around March 24.
Monday, 9 March 2009
Patong Beach, Thailand: Neon nights.
Arriving in Phuket's famous Patong Beach on a scorching hot afternoon doesn't really do the place justice. Ideally, you'd want someone to take you there blindfolded at about 9pm and reveal all when you're right in the thick of things on Bang La (the main drag with an enormous number of colourful bars and clubs). We'd made the short hop over from Phuket Town via public 'bus'. This was in fact a truck with two rows of padded bench seating in the back, covered by a rickety roof. We're already well used to such means of transport after two months on the road. You soon start to enjoy it. Just about. In the sweltering heat, we weren't sure what to make of Patong. Touristy as hell, that's for sure. But we had no idea if it would be our cup of tea or not.
How to describe Patong in full night-time glory? Imagine the biggest red-light district you've ever seen, take away a lot of the seedy sleazy vibe, throw in liberal amounts of smiles and fun, lashings of Thai whisky and Beer Chang, and you're getting somewhere close. Side-roads off Bang-La are lined with Identikit small bars - each with as many female Thai bar staff as patrons - all of them trying to entice you in with cries of 'Welcome!' and 'Hello! Where are you from?'; and some of them up on tables pole-dancing in a sort of non-raunchy, almost daydreamy manner. Many of the patrons and staff are playing a game where you try and hit a nail into a piece of wood with as few hits as possible, using the chisel edge of a hammer. The Thai girls are amazing at this game; the tourists are rubbish. Some money changes hands! Ditto the many games of Connect 4 and Jenga you see going on.
You're probably thinking that this doesn't sound like the sort of place you'd want to take your girlfriend, yet Jacqui had a great time as did the scores of other female tourists we saw enjoying the spectacle. You'd only need to have the slightest penchant for people-watching to enjoy Bang-La in full swing.
My other favourite thing about Patong is that every bar has a bell. Ring the bell and everyone present at the bar gets a drink on you. Dangerous indeed for tipsy tourists with an urge to lap up the adulation of a bar-load of freeloaders. Due to budgetary reasons we did not ring the bell.
How to describe Patong in full night-time glory? Imagine the biggest red-light district you've ever seen, take away a lot of the seedy sleazy vibe, throw in liberal amounts of smiles and fun, lashings of Thai whisky and Beer Chang, and you're getting somewhere close. Side-roads off Bang-La are lined with Identikit small bars - each with as many female Thai bar staff as patrons - all of them trying to entice you in with cries of 'Welcome!' and 'Hello! Where are you from?'; and some of them up on tables pole-dancing in a sort of non-raunchy, almost daydreamy manner. Many of the patrons and staff are playing a game where you try and hit a nail into a piece of wood with as few hits as possible, using the chisel edge of a hammer. The Thai girls are amazing at this game; the tourists are rubbish. Some money changes hands! Ditto the many games of Connect 4 and Jenga you see going on.
You're probably thinking that this doesn't sound like the sort of place you'd want to take your girlfriend, yet Jacqui had a great time as did the scores of other female tourists we saw enjoying the spectacle. You'd only need to have the slightest penchant for people-watching to enjoy Bang-La in full swing.
My other favourite thing about Patong is that every bar has a bell. Ring the bell and everyone present at the bar gets a drink on you. Dangerous indeed for tipsy tourists with an urge to lap up the adulation of a bar-load of freeloaders. Due to budgetary reasons we did not ring the bell.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Phuket Town, Thailand: Faded glamour and factor 50 (or lack of).
Having flown from KL to Phuket because it was cheap, we weren't sure where on the island we were best off heading for. Phuket - an island about the size of Singapore off Thailand's west coast - has a reputation for a lot of things: luxury package holidays, beautiful sandy beaches and a somewhat seedy nightlife in certain places. But our guide book assured us it was backpacker friendly and gave us a suggestion: don't stay at the beach. So we headed for Phuket Town in the southeast of the island and we're very glad we did.
Phuket Town is a great little place. It has all the charm of a small Thai city but with touches of colonialism and classy examples of Sino-Portuguese architecture. Having not even known of its existence until the day before we arrived, it feels like a bit of a find.
We're staying at the Thavorn, which was the first hotel in Phuket and is showing its age in quite an endearing way. The beautiful old lobby area is packed with Phuket history and artifacts, giving it far more grandeur than the rooms themselves. What was once probably the height of hotel room sophistication has over the decades turned into a knackered, kitsch charm - reflected in the fact that the hotel is now a budget option, rather than the 4-star experience it probably was in the 1960s or 1970s.
We've spent a couple of our evenings hanging out at the Bohemian Rap:Sawadee bar ('sawadee' is Thai for hello, geddit?), a four-month old venture run by a couple of British guys and ably assisted by a sweet Thai lady called Suzie, whose mischievous young son would babble away at us while we played Scrabble, despite not speaking any English. The first time we played Scrabble I was able to use all my letters on my first go for a 50-point bonus. I literally had K.I.T.T.E.N.S! Fair play to Jacqui though, in the end I only won by a dozen points or so, and she beat me the next time.
I'm currently suffering with the worst sunburn I've had in years after a day trip to the gorgeous Nai Harn beach two days ago. Only had a quick dip in the sea, 15 minutes or so, and then put suncream on. Yet I'm still annoyingly pink and my shoulders sting like heck. Seems harsh for such a short time in the sun. No more sea swimming without Factor 900 for me then. Curses. And on that sore note, I bid you good day.
Phuket Town is a great little place. It has all the charm of a small Thai city but with touches of colonialism and classy examples of Sino-Portuguese architecture. Having not even known of its existence until the day before we arrived, it feels like a bit of a find.
We're staying at the Thavorn, which was the first hotel in Phuket and is showing its age in quite an endearing way. The beautiful old lobby area is packed with Phuket history and artifacts, giving it far more grandeur than the rooms themselves. What was once probably the height of hotel room sophistication has over the decades turned into a knackered, kitsch charm - reflected in the fact that the hotel is now a budget option, rather than the 4-star experience it probably was in the 1960s or 1970s.
We've spent a couple of our evenings hanging out at the Bohemian Rap:Sawadee bar ('sawadee' is Thai for hello, geddit?), a four-month old venture run by a couple of British guys and ably assisted by a sweet Thai lady called Suzie, whose mischievous young son would babble away at us while we played Scrabble, despite not speaking any English. The first time we played Scrabble I was able to use all my letters on my first go for a 50-point bonus. I literally had K.I.T.T.E.N.S! Fair play to Jacqui though, in the end I only won by a dozen points or so, and she beat me the next time.
I'm currently suffering with the worst sunburn I've had in years after a day trip to the gorgeous Nai Harn beach two days ago. Only had a quick dip in the sea, 15 minutes or so, and then put suncream on. Yet I'm still annoyingly pink and my shoulders sting like heck. Seems harsh for such a short time in the sun. No more sea swimming without Factor 900 for me then. Curses. And on that sore note, I bid you good day.
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