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.