Finally at ‘The Beach’

Still sat with the Canadian couple at Phuket Town bus station, I steered the conversation away from their recent robbery (since the girl was still clearly, and quite understandably, pissed off about it.) I asked if they could recommend me a decent, cheap guesthouse.

“I don’t know about guesthouses” the girl replied, “because we stayed in a hotel, but it was only 250 Baht if you’re interested.”
Too right I was. A hotel for under 10 bucks in Phuket? Go girl, I’m all ears.

“It’s called the On On Hotel. A funny name, I know, but have you seen the film ‘The Beach’?” she asked. I feared my nodding may have appeared more impatient that eager.

“Well, apparently, that’s where they filmed the Khao San Road guesthouse scene with Leo Di Caprio and Robert Carlisle.” She continued, pointing to the spiel in their Thailand Lonely Planet.

Now, just like everybody else who’s ever lost the will to live in a backpacker cafe, I’ve seen that film but, just between you and me, I actually thoroughly enjoyed it in a perverse, dreamy, never-gonna-happen kind of way – and I clearly remember that particular scene, too.

“Oh, right…” I said, not really knowing what to think now.

Part of me wanted to stay at the On On Hotel, if just to experience a bit of Hollywood history from probably the most popular backpacking movie ever made. But the other, more rational part of my subconscious recalled the room in question as being a two-bit, cockroach infested rabbit hutch worth a damn site less than 250 Baht a night. Nevertheless, I fully appreciate the inaccurate skew Hollywood manages to put on many a real life situation. Just look at the ‘true’ story of how the first Enigma machine was captured in the WWII submarine blockbuster U-571.

I thanked the roaming Canucks for the guest house tip off, wished them safer travels on the next leg of their journey, and headed off down Thanon Phang-Nga to find the On On hotel. After all, even if the hotel was as bad as it looked in the movie, it cost nothing just to see it.

The place was easy enough to find. Walking in through the imposing, whitewashed facade and up to the counter, I checked out the room tariff. At 180 Baht for a single room with fan, or about 6 US Dollars to you and I, the price seemed (slightly) more realistic. Eventually, one of the sullen staff did me the huge favour of showing me a room. I felt eternally grateful – albeit gratitude laced with guilt for rudely interrupting their chitchat and forcing them to do what they were paid to do.

If I were to scribe for Lonely Planet (warning: bitterness alert) I’d surely describe the On On Hotel as having an ‘air of colonial elegance’, I’d no doubt swiftly follow this with a string of trite phrases including ‘crumbling charm’ and ‘former glory’. However, I don’t write for them. But it’s not because I’m not good enough, you understand, it’s more for reasons similar to the world class footballer who (or should that be whom?) plays for Dagenham and Redbridge instead of Real Madrid. It’s simply because he chooses to…

Anyhow, back to reality; for me, the reasons behind the On On Hotel’s evident popularity remain a mystery. The place was nothing but a run-down shithole managed by indifferent staff – an overpriced flophouse clearly running on Hollywood fumes. I thanked the caring, sharing staff for their efforts above and beyond the call of duty, ticked the ol’ imaginary travel box and wandered back into the sunshine.

Watch Out, Watch Out, there are Robbers About

The scenery between Surat Thani and Phuket  was incredible. The six hour journey took us through Kao Sok National Park –with its glorious limestone karts and thick jungle – and then through Kao Lak, a beach resort town hit mercilessly hard by the Boxing Day Tsunami of 2004. Kao Lak looked like a newly built town – and, in truth, for the most part it probably was.

Now almost 24 hours since leaving Bangkok, we finally rolled into Phuket Town. Despite the island being regarded as package holiday hell on a stick, at that particular moment I couldn’t have cared less. I was happy just to have stopped moving. What’s more, had the ground not had an impressive covering of diesel, cigarette butts and general filth, I’d have gotten down on all fours and given it a little pope-esque kiss.

During the usual post-bus bottle-of-pop-and-cigarette ritual, I noticed a western couple sitting at a nearby table. I went over and said hello. Soon after, we got chatting. They were Canadian, they were waiting for a bus out of Phuket and, until I arrived, they were happily playing cards. These 2 roaming Canucks had also arrived from Surat Thani, but several days earlier and via one of the V.I.P. tour buses. They had very few positive things to say about it, not least of all because they’d been robbed on the way down. Not at the hands of gun-toting bandits, as I had dramatically envisaged, but (and this is by their own admission) by their tour company. Bags had dipped and rucksacks rifled, and  each relieved of electrical goodies, cash, cards and, in this particular girl’s case, jewellery. They were certain it was and ‘inside job’, so to speak, and clearly felt let down by their operator. Sadly, they were also unable to prove a thing either way. You know this kind of thing goes on from time to time, but seldom do you hear about it firsthand. They just had to take it on the chin and hope their travel insurance covered it.

I’m sure the lion’s share of these tourist buses run without a glitch and that all baggage turns up intact – and I’m also sure that this could happen on any bus on a given day, be it tourist or government flavour. Events such as these can happen to any of us at any given time, we just hope above all hopes that they don’t.

But there are, I feel, some measures we can take to further reduce these already slight risks. Here and here are just two examples that I’ve had time to write about. In addition, splitting your valuables and/or travelling with more than one bag may help reduce losses, too.

If you have any other ones that you swear by, do please take the time to put them in the comments section below. If it allows even just one person to avoid this potentially avoidable scenario then you’ve not wasted you time. Thanks.

Coffee, Sweat, and Travel Roulette

6:30 am. Somewhere in Surat Thani. After shaking off Cheap Ticket Guy, I wandered only as far as the next street corner before I stopped for a brew and gathered my thoughts. There was little need to race around and hunt for a bus just yet; I still had the whole day still ahead of me. I kept an eye out for busses whilst supping the coffee, but nothing drove by. I hoped that the girl at the breakfast stall would be able to help, but she didn’t understand my questions – not even when I applied that hopelessly ridiculous, broken English accent (with equally comical hand signals) commonly adopted when speaking to others either too lazy or too ignorant to learn my native language. The cheek of them.

After coffee, I covered a few more streets in search of the ‘Beeg Bus Stacion’ but found nothing. I asked around a bit more and eventually came up trumps at a guesthouse. The kindly chap at reception pointed across the counter, through the door and over to the opposite side of the street. But even better than pointing at a bus stop, he pointed at a big orange bus! After thanking him profusely, I hightailed it through a sea of hard-swerving mopeds and jumped on the bus just as it began to pull away. Indiana Jones: you know nothing. Well, to be honest, the bus wasn’t actually pulling away when I got on. I just made that up. In truth, the bus was still standing there long after the needle on my lung-o-meter had swung back from the red, ‘near explode’ zone back into the more comfortable, browny-grey, ‘morning cough’ zone.

It was still early morning, school time I would say, judging by the amount kids in crisp, white uniforms that crowded a bus otherwise filled with nice smelling ladies and elderly gentlemen. I couldn’t have felt more out of place. They had all, no doubt, recently scrubbed down and donned clean clothes to start their new day, whereas Ihad just spent 12 hours sleeping partly clothed on a clammy night train from Bangkok. To make matters worse, we were packed in like sardines. I edged into the remaining standing space in the aisle, right in the middle of the tin.

Worse still, after the impromptu 100-yard backpack-dash, I was now sweating like a horse. Everyone could see it, and one young lad in particular, sat just down to my right, probably felt it from time to time, too. I would have liked to have bent down and apologise to him personally, but I knew that any sudden movement would only unleash another bead-fest on his little, and already wet, neck.

The ticket girl edged closer.

“Big bus station?” I enquired, trying my utmost not to drip on her too much.

She gave a nod, relieved me of 12 Baht, and looked up and down my soggy, still slightly panting body with a mixed expression of shock, confusion and horror – similar only to that of someone witnessing a slow-motion, 15 car motorway pile up. Unsurprisingly, she made her way out of the drip-zone at a startling pace. By now, I think the small boy to my right had started to cry. They looked like teardrops, but, given my current rate of leakage, I couldn’t be sure.

Thankfully, within 10 minutes we pulled into the main Surat Thani bus station. I was glad not only to be at the station, but to be off that bus. I had done it. Now it should be plain sailing to Krabi, my jumping off point for the islands. If only life was that easy. With everything at the station written solely in Thai – schedules, bus bays, you name it – I had no choice but to reintroduce the silly accent and again start asking for pointers.

After a good hour of harassing a string of staff, motorbike taxi drivers, fellow passengers and songtheaw drivers, I learned I’d have more chance of getting to Krabi by flapping my arms, caw-ing like a seagull and flying there myself than by bussing it there from Surat Thani. No buses, or at least none that I could find, headed that way from this particular station. Cheap Ticket Guy at the station spoke the truth. This called for another change of travel plan and a swift round of travel roulette.

Rather than sit around and wait indefinitely for a bus to Krabi that may or may not arrive, I chose instead to get on the next southbound bus – wherever it went. It went to Phuket Town, so I did too – but not before stopping back at the Surat Thani train station to pick up passengers…all of whom were now a 27 Baht round-trip better off than I, and none of whom by 9am had mentally scarred a bus conductor for life.

“ …Cheap Ticket to Krabi! VIP Bus! Good for You!”

The 12 hour train ride from Hualamphong Station, Bangkok down to Surat Thani went surprisingly quickly. I expect I must have slept for longer than I first thought possible.

Waking at 5am left me ample time to double check my gear and enjoy a stunning sunrise over a leisurely breakfast. Breakfast was a hot, sweet cup of coffee and, acquired the previous evening from one of the walk-on vendors, a styrene tray of spicy mince and boiled rice (complete with plastic spoon and precariously balanced fried egg.)
I managed to get a grandstand view of my new surroundings from the far end of the carriage. After pulling open one of the main exit doors and wedging myself firmly into the exit aisle (so as not to alight the train during a sharp sideways jolt, of which there are many), I cracked on with breakfast.

That morning, as I sat and watched and sipped and munched, I felt truly blessed. I could genuinely appreciate just how lucky I was. Seldom do you chance upon 2 such exceedingly rare pleasures in such a short time span : a spectacular sunrise over Southern Thailand and a decent cup of train coffee. What a treat.

For the next leg after Surat Thani, a bus trip, I decided to play it by ear. I’d see what was heading south from the bus station (assuming that there was one and that I’d actually find it) and take it from there.

Shortly after breakfast, the journey finished. We pulled in to Surat Thani train station just after 6 am. Even before the train had come to a complete stop, I knew that onward travel wasn’t going to be a problem since a group of touts had already gathered on the platform – all eagerly scanning the train doors and windows for potential customers. I looked back down the carriage and counted about 6 other backpackers slowly making their way to the exits. Our carriage was a prime target.

With one, final lurch forward, the train stopped. By now, many of the tour reps had gathered around the exit, all jostling for a place at the front of the pack, their destination placards waving high in the air. I was genuinely surprised by their eagerness.

The doors opened and the welcoming committee pushed through the Thai passengers to get to us. The moment I stepped onto the platform and into the bright sunshine, I almost got a large, neatly printed placard thrust up my nostril. It was akin to some bizarre race where the winner is the first to grab a shirtsleeve and therefore ‘claim’ the tourist inside it. I pushed my hand deep into my wallet pocket and kept walking. I also wished I’d played more rugby at school.

“Where you go?! Where you go?!!”

”Ko Samui?”

“Ko Tao?”

“Phuket?”

We have cheap ticket to Ko Phang Ngan! Come! Come! Cheap! Cheap!”

But I didn’t want to go go, even if it was cheap cheap. I told the fella that won me I didn’t know where I wanted to go and that I didn’t need a ticket, cheap or otherwise, but it wasn’t enough to shake him off. He wasn’t going to give up just yet. I continued out of the station and down the street, all the time with my new mate in tow, without the slightest idea where I was heading. After about 500 yards, cheap ticket man slowed up.

“Hey, where you go?” he said, sounding genuinely confused.

“I go for coffee…this way” I replied, pointing down the street and to the furthest visible point from the tour office.

“We have coffee! Come! Come!”

The thing is, he probably did, too.

“No, I’ll go down here, and then maybe Krabi” I blurted “…but later…and from the bus station”

My foolish concession gave the guy a new lease of life. Man, I wish this plonker would keep his gob shut, I thought (and by ‘that plonker’ I mean me, not him.)

“Station no have bus Krabi! We have bus Krabi! Cheap cheap for you! Easy for you!”

I hesitated. Glancing back over my left shoulder, I saw the other folks from the train getting funnelled into the tour agency opposite the station. What if this was telling the truth? What if they did have the only busses to Krabi? What if the other people were also going to Krabi and they knew this? For a moment, I considered joining them. I pictured the map in my head: Krabi looked a big place, Surat Thani looked a big place – surely there had to be busses between the two. I decided to carry on walking.

“No, I think I’ll go to the bus station…but thanks anyway.”

All I had to do now was find it.

How to Get Cheaper Train Tickets from Hualamphong Train Station, Bangkok

The 1 1/2 hour walk from Khao San Road to Hualamphong train station was hot, sticky and, on occasion, cough-up-stuff smoggy, but the food stops alone made it worthwhile. I’m glad I stuck it out.

The helpful staff at the Hualmphong information desk did the station proud. Considering my rather vague notion of where I wanted to end up, they clarified things quickly. Surat Thani was indeed the stop I needed to get to the south western islands around Krabi, and it didn’t take long to sort out the details. Read more

« Previous Page — Next Page »