Thursday, March 26, 2015

Krabi Town and Ao Nang

The plan was to leave Bangkok and head to Krabi town for a couple of days. I pictured breezy beaches, palm trees, and long stretches of sand.

When I landed I was ushered by a small mob of people to a taxicab company. The women at the booth informed me that I would need to take a taxi because it was about a 20 minute ride into town. Not really feeling much like doing any of the leg work to figure out whether or not this was true, I paid the lady her money and got sent down to the exit where I was greeted by a group of drivers.

The man who was in first in line for the next fare was wearing an Old Trafford shirt. Wow, a little piece of Manchester all the way in Krabi, I thought. I decided it was a good sign. That is, until the minute I got into the cab. As we pulled out of the terminal the driver pointed at a bus, “Why didn’t you take that bus into Krabi?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
Oh, they didn’t tell me there was a bus.
You have eyes, no?” I knew this was a rhetorical question so I laughed. He continued on. “If you didn’t see the sign then you have no eyes.”
Okay. I said, trying my best to sound neither sarcastic nor confrontational. Then it was his turn to laugh as he told me that the room I’d booked was probably cheaper than the taxi ride.
Probably. I agreed through a smile. I was thinking, Look dude-face—I am not a 19 year old broke ass backpacker anymore (even if I still like to use similar vernacular). If I want to “waste” my own money on a little bit of comfort here and there then I will, thank you very much. I also shelled out a little extra for a room with air-con the other day, do you want to talk about that as well?
Mr. Old Trafford took a look at the receipt the women who’d sold me the ticket had written out. “Where is this?” he asked me, referring to the address of where I was staying.
I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before.
“Well, I don’t know where that is. I might not be able to find it.”
That will be an interesting adventure I replied.  

I got the sense that Mr. Old Trafford did not want to be there. I started thinking, well—maybe I was his last fare of the day and he’d hoped to get off easily by dropping me off 5 minutes away.
As I continued wondering what his deal was he pulled into a petrol station. Apparently he’d just really needed to pee? He ran into the toilets, came out about 20 seconds later and was a brand new person! All smiles, laughs, tour-guide style tips about the area. 

I had planned to spend 2 nights in Krabi town before moving on to the islands. However, after unloading my things at my guesthouse (which was found effortlessly) and walking around for 10 minutes I decided that the next day I’d head out to one town over called Ao Nang. The only thing that I found really worth seeing in Krabi town was the weekend night markets. They were packed with Thai and foreigners side by side—with vendors selling clothing, street food, alcohol, desserts, art, along with musicians, magicians, and dancers working hard for their tips.




The guesthouse I stayed in was nice, but very quiet and I knew it would be impossible to meet anyone there. I booked a “bus” (which was actually more like the Central American style pick up trucks that transport people around in the back) to Ao Nang, and that’s when I really felt the beach part of my holiday had started.

Ao Nang itself does not have the postcard sandy beaches people salivate over while Google image searching things to distract themselves from work, but it did have the chilled-out, laid back vibe I’d been searching for. It is also the jumping off point to get to all the aforementioned beaches.

The afternoon was full of seeing lady boys dressed as Disney princesses, chatting to people from all over the world, trying to communicate with my Malaysian roommate who I somehow became friends with despite neither of us understanding each other, and discovering a new passion: thai green curry with coconut rice. All of these things passed while I was barefoot. I don’t think I’ve work shoes in about 4 days.

The people at my hostel were really fun. On my first night in Ao Nang I did a pub crawl with them. I wont go into too much detail here, except it turns out that my flip cup skills are still solid despite being far removed from my undergrad days

I woke up around 10am, just early enough to catch the boat for my 7-islands tour and ended up having the most relaxing and fun day just snorkeling, drinking smoothies and beers, and occasionally shaking my head in disbelief that I was island hopping in 90+ degree weather when just a few days earlier I’d been wearing a fleece onesie, under the bed covers with the heat on in Manchester.

Some of the places I went:






Even though I could have easily stayed another night, being hard pressed for time, I needed to move on. My next stop was Koh Phi Phi! 

Friday, March 20, 2015

Bangkok to Krabi Town

I write this on the plane as I wait for my flight to take off from Bangkok—where I’ve spent the past two nights.

The plane is loading as people trepidatiously find their seats. Why the hesitations? As I climbed the last stair onto the plane I immediately noticed what I thought was smoke quickly filling the isle. My memory quickly conjured the recent news stories of Air Asia crashes while simultaneously constructing the future one, which would see my photo flashing on the local Seattle news, “We have just gotten confirmation that one Seattle native was aboard the plane that is believed to have exploded mid-air.”

Yes, it is true, I have an over active imagination, which coupled with anxiety and slight paranoia is maybe not the best combination.

I asked the nearest flight attendant, “What is this?” gesturing wildly with my hand trying to sign language smoke.



“It’s because it’s hot outside. It’s the difference in the air temperature.” She assured me through the type of smile that made me think she’d been asked this before. Indeed, I heard her and other members of the flight crew repeating this information to every other person coming up behind me.

The “difference in temperature,” is a welcome reprieve from the ridiculous sticky heat that has plastered my clothes to my skin the past two days. When I arrived in Bangkok I did a wardrobe change before even leaving the airport. The moment we landed an image of The Wicked Witch (Wizard of Oz) shrieking, “I’m melllllting!” played over and over in my head.

Once I had changed my clothing I plowed confidently through immigration towards the exits, found my way to the airport train, took it to the last top and hailed a cab the remainder of the way to my hostel. One thing that traveling extensively, and mostly on my own, has done is given me the confidence to know I’ll end up in the right place even if from the onset I have no idea what I’m doing—which, let’s be real—is most of the time.

When I got into my air conditioned room, using any excuse to stay in that cool air for as long as justifiable, I began my travel routine of going through my bag to determine what I’d forgotten to bring.

This time it was only one thing (breaking records here!) and it was pretty obvious. The only shoes I had were the ones I was wearing: my Nike running shoes. That was absolutely not going to fly, so I set off into the busy, polluted, motor-cycle and tuk-tuk crammed streets of Bangkok. 




Where I was staying was a 2 minute walk from Koh San Road, which is loaded with stalls selling things aimed at tourists, Thai musicians crooning “hits” from 10 years ago at you from open air bars, food carts selling everything from ice cream to fried tarantulas. It was such a unique, fun, chaotic atmosphere that only after wandering for about an hour did I remember what I had set out to do. It was some time around the point I thought, “Oh em gee. I wish I was barefoot because my feet are on fire.”

There was a Canadian couple staying in my room. When I returned to swap out my shoes for my new bedazzled flip-flops we engaged in the standard traveler chit chat. “How long are you here for? Where are you coming from? How long are you staying? Where are you from?”  When I said I was from Seattle, but living in England they both informed me I had picked up a slight English accent. Even though it did make me self-conscious of the way I spoke for the rest of the night so as to not come across as a poser, this did come in handy the next day.

As you meander through the alleyways and back-streets of Koh San the vendors will try to engage you with the opening lines, “Hi Miss…” or “Hello, friend…” ending the sentence with, “where are you from?” I noticed quickly that they all responded identically when I said I was American.
“Obama. Obama,” or—extending their arms out—“High five!” Usually the greeting was a combination of the two. It got me to wondering what they might say if I was from another country, so I began answering that question, “I’m from England.”
“Lovely jubbly” was the response every single time. Without fail.
“I’m from Australia,” was the next one I tried.
“G’day!” was the answer to this one with the exception of two times when I got the really odd, “Kangaroo, mate!”

My cynical and conspiratorial part of my brain on overdrive; it made me wonder if these stalls were maybe all owned by the same two or three Westerners who had hired the Thai to work the markets and taught them phrases from English speak countries to attract customers.

Last night I met a guy from Philly and a guy from London who were both traveling solo. I got into a really funny conversation with them about life—the kind of discussion usually reserved for friends you’ve known for years. It made me remember that this—deep human connections with people who an hour earlier were strangers—is one of the absolute most amazing things that comes from this lifestyle.


I’m excited to see what comes next…

Best things in Bangkok (in no particular order)
Grand National Palace
Reclining Buddha
Temples
Koh San Road
People watching along the canal