Day 15 : A little more than not a lot...
19 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C
11:45
I have a slightly rough night’s sleep. Some bad news from back home pervades my dreams, and I wake in a bit of a tiz on more than one occasion. I generously allow Vicki to sleep till 09:24, before deciding enough is really enough. She’s banked another 10 hour plus sleep, and frankly, it’s getting a little ridiculous now.
While she’s slept, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re not staying exactly where I thought we were. The main Ao Nang town is a couple of kilometres to the East of us, alongside Ao Nang beach. We, rather, are staying next to Nopharat Thara beach, which is just not the same thing at all. We decide to head over to Ao Nang proper for some breakfast, and find a very cool little café knocking out decent brunch type stuff. It’s a lot busier over here - tons of knock off shops selling fake branded goods. We decide Nopharat Thara, with its idiosyncratic night market, small Thai run bars and restaurants is more our speed.
We’re deciding what to do with our single full day in Ao Nang. The conclusion is (perhaps unsurprisingly) not very much. We’ve both really enjoyed taking some time out to properly rest on this trip, and it’s been a while since we’ve been able to do so together. We’d thought about getting a longboat over to Railay beach, a couple of headlands further East from us, and only accessible from the water. A combination of feckless layaboutery, and concerns over Vicki’s skin combine to dissuade us from this strategy. We’ve already decided we’re going to come back to Thailand, and have been building a healthy and growing list of stuff we want to do when we do…
19:30
We’ve become ‘not doing very much’ ninjas. I have an amazing nap around 12:30, and wake at 14:00 full of very few beans. We mooch for an hour or so, then decide there’s a day out there at which we should probably go and have another look. We mosey as far as Pink Lady, and get sucked in by our new friends. There follows a very intense few games of shut the box (which I appear to have misnomered 'shit the bed'), with Vicki the winner of a tight competition, 3-2. We move onto Connect 4, and this time, I’m the victor. All this accompanied by some ultra chilly beers. It’s past 16:00, and we’re feeling some hunger pangs, so we head back to Chomlay for a late lunch. More delicious food follows - a black pepper chicken stir-fry for me, and some simple soy fried noodles for Vicki.
We reason that it’s been close to 3 hours since someone had a nap. It’s Vicki’s turn, so back at our guesthouse, she’s quickly out for a 60 count, while I read contentedly next to her…
Not 100% sure what our evening plans will entail, except that we’re both in need of a shower, and some wine.
23:30
There’s something not quite right about Team Irvine today. I think we’re just both feeling a bit under-powered. Perhaps just a touch of fatigue after a couple of weeks on the road, maybe the hint of a little bug keeping us both a little deflated. Whatever it is, it pervades our evening plans. We pop out to an Italian restaurant for a quick bite to eat, neither of us quite fancying spice and heat tonight. Don’t think either of us are particularly hungry, but we’ve a boat trip tomorrow, and will avoid eating till we arrive at our next destination. We’re back in our room by 22:30, and Vicki turns in not long after that. I’m not quite sleep ready yet, so read for a while. I’m conscious that Vicki is not dropping off to sleep in her usual, almost instantaneous fashion. Crikey. Czytaj więcej
Day 14 - From there, to here
18 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C
09:50
Learning much from our experience of getting up too early, and having too much time to pack when leaving Koh Tao, we once again get up too early, and have too much time to pack when leaving Koh Pha Ngan. Not *quite* as much sitting around time today, so I guess that’s progress. We’ve checked out of TropiCoco, and are waiting for our taxi to the ferry jetty, for onward travel to Krabi. Today is our last really chunky bit of travel before we head home, and it’ll doubtless feel a bit of a slog.
We’ve both loved Koh Pha Ngan. It’s difficult to think of another place that so effectively combines blissed out relaxation with a hedonistic party life-style. We’d come back, for sure - but would want to explore more of the island, and perhaps stay on one (or more) of the other beaches around the island. And lovely though TropiCoco has been, there have been times when it’s felt it could have been a beach resort pretty much anywhere. It’s quite a family oriented place, and also has one of the few pools along the beach. The owners are more than happy to welcome customers not staying at the hotel to use the pool and beach bar facilities, which has left it feeling a little crowded at times. Our guesthouse in Ao Nang looks a decidedly more adulty affair…
15:00
Our taxi down to Thong Sala jetty transpires to be a Songthaew, the ubiquitous covered pick-up truck with benches that roam the Thai islands. It’s a far cry from the air-conditioned van that met us on arrival. The journey down to the pier is fairly bumpy, and requires the passenger to hold onto a roof rail for dear life to avoid being deposited out of the rear of the truck. I enjoy it perhaps just a tad more than Vicki.
There’s a small amount of confusion at the pier when a ferry arrives which we assume to be ours, but isn’t. We’re quickly boarded onto the correct ferry though, and grab some space in the shade on the outside deck. The crossing to Koh Samui is blissfully quick and smooth. Today is looking good. At Koh Samui though, far more passengers board than depart for the onward journey to Surat Thani, and the boat suddenly feels full to bursting. A family with small child ask to share our bench, which is kinda ok - I guess, but leaves us hemmed in a little. We end up moving, and skulking inside for the last 40 minutes of the journey, which has the upside of being air-conditioned.
Surat Thani is the boat’s last port of call - all change please, all change. Disembarking the boat is a bit of a clusterfuck. No one is really sure where to go, where to collect luggage etc etc. Vicki and I are briefly separated while I head off to grab my rucksack - her wheeled luggage will be waiting for her on the dockside. We make off to find our coach to take us down to Krabi. Buses are numbered 1 to 8. 1 is going to Surat Thani airport, 2 is going to Surat Thani train station, 3 is going… and so on. Buses 7 and 8 are going to Krabi, so we need to jump on one of these. Rather unhelpfully, the buses are also numbered with completely different numbers. Bus number 7 for example, also has large stickers on it declaring it is bus number 14. We find a helpful driver who is loading luggage onto what seems to be bus 7, and he agrees we’re in the right place.
The drive is around 2 1/2 hours. The bus has air-conditioning, but it’s a little lacklustre. Vicki decides to sleep through as much as possible, in some kind of snoozy protest. I envy her. No matter how much better I am at sleeping than I used to be, sleeping upright on a bumpy coach is, I think, always going to be beyond my powers of nap. I instead, read, watch some TV and watch the world go by. This is the first properly rural part of the Thailand mainland that we’ve travelled through, and it’s fascinating to see the changes in scenery, architecture and land use as we pass.
20:00
At Krabi, our cab is waiting to take us onwards to Ao Nang, a beach about 10km to the South. We arrive at our new accommodation, Blue Bayou around 16:30 - just coming up on 7 hours since we left our room at TropiCoco. Our longest journey from here on in should be less than half that.
Our room at Blue Bayou is lovely, but HOT. The ‘feels like’ temp down here is 42C, and the A/C has not been running in our room ahead of our arrival. It’s just starting to cool down as we leave to find beer, food and breeze. The seafront is a short, 3 minute walk away. There’s a warm but cooling breeze (no, I don’t know how that’s possible either) running along the wide boulevard that separates the beach from a row of bars and restaurants housed in shipping containers. We park ourselves at the first that has some jaunt - a pretty kitsch place called Pink Lady. We request, nay - we demand ice cold beer, and it is forthcoming. Sweet, sweet Jeebus it’s good. Our first beer lasts next to no time. We order another, and continue to devour it’s icy coldness. We’ve eaten nothing today beyond a handful of peanuts or cashews en-route, and are both suddenly hit by a famished hunger. Several containers down is a traditional Thai place called Cholmay. We bowl in that direction in urgent search of sustenance.
The food at Cholmay is top notch. A green shrimp curry for Vicki, and a southern yellow seabass curry for me. The green curry is excellent, but I’m really taken by the yellow curry. It’s unlike any other Thai curry I’ve had. There’s no richness of coconut milk (which I had assumed there would be), but rather the sourness of tamarind, the sweetness of pineapple, and the heat of chilli. The curry ‘sauce’ is more of a broth, but none the worse for it. It’s fabulous. One of my fave meals of our trip so far. We have some stir-fried morning glory (fnarr) to accompany it which is also excellent. Morning glory occupies a place somewhere between broccoli and spinach, and is the most common everyday green vegetable in Thailand. It’s simply stir-fried here with chilli, garlic, ginger, soy and fish sauces, and finished with a little oyster sauce. Brilliant.
We’re planning / hoping to meet Pete while we’re in town, who is the younger brother of our dear friend Debbie. Conscious we need to freshen up fairly markedly before we encounter other humans, we head back to Blue Bayou. A shower seems an utter waste of time, so I have a dip in the pool instead. It’s warm and luxuriant, and right outside our terrace doors…
23:30
We successfully find Pete, and end up back at the Pink Lady, where a half-decent band are covering the likes of Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Radiohead, Franz Ferdinand. Pete’s a very easy drinks companion, and tells us many stories of his 12+ years living in Thailand. He’s here for the duration - he and his Thai wife have plans in play to build a retirement home in the North of Thailand, and holiday homes for rental in the South. We spend a delightful hour or so shooting the breeze, before Pete heads off to meet Ffa, his wife.
We’re not quite ready for our day to end, so head down to the daily night market. The nightly market? I don’t know. You get me, right? Here, there is a less than half decent band murdering the likes of U2, The Police, Bryan Adams. They are not good. Vicki has earplugs, which we both employ. We have a little wander around some of the market stalls, but will come back for a more complete look around tomorrow. Vicki has her mind slightly set on replacing one of her thumb rings, and this could be a good opportunity.
We stop in at Dragon’s Breath on the way back to Blue Bayou - one of the many weed dispensaries we’ve seen. Strictly speaking, these are intended for the sale of medically required cannabis, but from what we’ve seen, heard and read, no one is asking for a prescription. The range of weed on sale is both impressive, and daunting. Neither of us is a big smoker. I had my time when I was younger, but very rarely smoke these days. Mainly outside of the UK to be honest. Vicki has just never got on with smoke - doesn’t like the feeling of being stoned. We’ve agreed to try once more, with (hopefully) something not too strong, and we’ll carefully moderate our intake. The guy in the shop gives us a few different options for Sativa strains, and we plump for a strain called Black Cherry, on the basis that we like the fruit, and it smells nice. He makes us a ready rolled with the precision and speed of one who has done it countless times before, and we’re quickly on our way back to our room.
No bifta tonight though - it’s past 23:00, and Vicks is ready for more sleeps. Czytaj więcej
Day 13 - Flaming Flamingo.
17 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C
08:20
I sleep fitfully. My stomach has been griping and cramping through the night, and it’s woken me up on a few occasions. I give up at 07:00, and ready myself for a somewhat dull couple of hours until I can wake Vicki up. I spend a little longer than I really should wondering if I can engineer a wake up for her earlier than the agreed 09:00, but suspect this will come at a considerable cost.
22:45
We’re just back from the Sea Board beach party, which was great fun. Our day has been a very chilled affair. Well, apart from the drum and bass Vicki is playing when I wake up from my afternoon nap. But you know - other than that…
I’m taking it easy on the food and booze front today, mindful that my stomach still doesn’t feel like it’s operating at full whack. Breakfast is a fairly sedate affair, and we share a pizza for lunch. I’m parsimonious when it comes to beer/wine, until 18:00, when we head down to the beach bar for a light dinner and some wine. I’m overtaken by the urge for a Penang curry. It’s not super-spicy, but has a lovely warmth and fragrance. I demolish it. We end up down on the beach watching another beautiful sunset. Just 100m up the beach from us, we can hear the Sea Board party starting to get rolling. The music is very floaty and fairly ambient in the lead up to sunset, and then starts to kick-on once the sky darkens. We’d originally planned to head back to the room, get ourselves a bit ready for our departure tomorrow, and then head out. Instead, we’re sucked in earlier.
The set-up is great - there’s a covered dance floor with a bar to one side of it. To the other side is a little market/bazaar of local traders, selling jewellery, sunglasses, weed… The music is cranking up. It’s not quite to my taste, though Vicki loves it. A bit too glitzy house for my liking. We have a few vodkas and Manao, and I spend a delightful little while couched on a Flamingo, and people watching. The music gradually improves (for my tastes, at any rate). The temperature is dropping, which is welcome. It’s been pretty steamy today… Conscious that we’ve a *relatively* early start, and haven’t done a jot of packing yet, we head back along the beach to TropiCoco, stopping at the bar for just a couple of quick Café Patrons. They only have the ‘Incendio’ version at the beach bar, which has a little chocolate and some Arbol chilli in it. It’s not hot hot, but noticeably warm as you drink it. Very pleasant actually… We need to get ourselves sorted, so a tad grumpily head back to our bungalow. Czytaj więcej
Day 12 : Uh-oh.
16 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 29 °C
16:30
Big change around in our hectic daily schedule today. We’re a little later getting up than yesterday, and head out for breakfast around 10:30. I accidentally (seriously) order more food than I’d planned to, and need a morning nap to see me through. I get up around 14:00, and join Vicki by the pool. She’s bravely tried a Sangsom - a local rum that we’ve been warned can be a touch risky. I join her. It’s - ‘interesting.’ Doesn’t taste like a spiced rum, but goes down easily enough.
Vicki’s peckish, and orders a pizza. I go for a light option of a papaya salad, asking for medium spicy. My first taste sets my mouth on fire. There are crushed red birds-eye chillies throughout, and the dressing has a bold, red tinge - evidence of further chillies. It is, by a country mile, the hottest thing I’ve eaten in this trip. It’s also one of the most delicious - by far the best example of papaya salad I’ve been served while in Thailand. I’m torn between leaving most of it, and devouring it at pace. Ultimately, I manage most of it, but leave as many of the shredded chillies as I can. My lips are burning, and my mouth is watering. I ignore my wine, knowing this will only make the pain worse. 20 minutes pass, and the discomfort starts to dissipate - thankfully.
It’s 15:30, and we both reckon there might be more snoozes in our near future. We’re not heading to the Half Moon party until 21:30 tonight, so we’ve plenty of time to play with. Vicki is off to sleep almost immediately. I try but fail. Apparently, there is a limit to how much napping I can do in a day.
18:00
A comprehensive change of plans. Throughout the afternoon, my stomach’s started to feel less than solid. I don’t think it’s the after-effect of my ultra spicy papaya salad - I suspect that’ll visit me in the morning. To be fair, I would always expect to have a couple of days out of a 3 week trip in this part of the world with a somewhat dicky tum. Without wanting to enter into too much detail, I shan’t be going anywhere tonight that’s more than sprinting distance to the nearest facilities. We’re gutted to miss the Half Moon party, but sometimes listening to what your body’s telling you is the right (if boring) thing to do…
23:30
As a result of my geographical constraints for the evening, we grab a seat down at TropiCoco’s beach bar for sunset. It’s staggeringly beautiful - a real treat. The colours are incredibly vivid, and the light playing off the water is hypnotic. It’s a wonderful place to spend some time.
We have some dinner - a fairly plain Gnocchi dish for me - and spend most of our time people watching. There’s a German guy sitting next to us who I think might be the most stoned man I’ve encountered. He spends quite a bit longer than is entirely necessary explaining to the bar manager about his Grandfather’s technique for opening coconuts with an electric screwdriver. The temperature at this time of evening is a delight - the edge of heat having dissolved from the day.
Not the plans we made, but 100% not the worst way to pass the evening… Czytaj więcej
Day 11 - We've been here before?
15 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 29 °C
17:15
Feels like we have settled into an easy-going rhythm during our time in Koh Pha Ngan. My alarm wakes us this morning at 09:00. We mooch for a while, before heading out to our favourite café for a bit of breakfast. We head back to our room via the 7/11, to cool down and catch up on our correspondence. Around 12:00, we declare beer o’clock, and head down to the beach bar. After a couple of wines and/or beers, we feel a bit peckish, so have a light lunch. We head back to our room to luxuriate in the awesome coldness and typically have a delightful afternoon nap. We wake around 16:30/17:00, and consider our plans for this evening. Rinse/repeat etc.
Nothing particularly stands out about today so far, and I suspect tomorrow will look and feel much like it. This is a good thing.
23:55
Well that was awesome fun. We have a lovely dinner at Locco’s Pizza Bar. Vicki has a re-run of her sea-bass dish from Saturday, and I have a stellar Tagliata, sliced chargrilled sirloin steak, served over rocket and shaved Parmesan. Tremendous. We head back to our room to freshen up for our evening jaunt, and head out around 20:00 for Apple Bar, where Graham Gold is playing tonight. The club/bar is at the top of an incredibly steep hill - so steep in fact that the bar run a free shuttle service from the main road up to the bar. Several stretches are at a 45 degree angle. When we reach the ‘top’ there are a further 4-5 flights of stairs to navigate, followed by a further climb to get up to the bar. If all that sounds a bit of a hassle, I have to tell you the views are worth it. We’re maybe 100m elevated from the beach, and the views down over Haad Yao, even at night, are breathtaking.
The club itself is a bit of a rabbit warren, with lots of nooks and crannies in which to hide. We grab a drink, and people watch for a half hour. Graham joins us for a chat and a beer, and we spend a lovely time shooting the breeze. He’s been a professional DJ for over 40 years, and it’s fascinating to listen to his stories and experiences. He’s resident on Koh Pha Ngan, and gives us a great insight into what life is like on the island for a Brit. The music’s great, even if the mixing is a little agricultural at times. It’s not super busy. April is the very end of the high season in Thailand. Graham’s playing at 22:30, so we relocate from our crow’s nest at the top of the club down to the dance floor, and have great fun raving away.
We’ve a big night tomorrow night for the Half Moon Party, so we declare victory around 23:40, and leave to navigate the treacherous down slope back to our hotel. Slightly miffed the shuttle will bring you up, but not back down. We take it very slow and steady. There’s almost a minor incident when the handrail that has been our friend suddenly disappears, but we bravely make it back to the main road. It’s a 2-3 minute walk from here back to our hotel. Back in our room, we can still clearly hear the music playing at the bar. I’d noticed a few reviews for Apple Bar on Google yesterday, most of which were from tourists staying locally complaining about the noise. Honestly - you go to a party island like Koh Pha Ngan and get incensed by a bit of music playing late? Grow the fuck up. Czytaj więcej
Day 10 - Easy like a Sunday something...
14 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C
17:30
This bed is awesome. SO comfortable. I sleep until 09:15, and Vicki only wakes with the alarm at 09:30. We’re both feeling significantly refreshed, and ready for a busy day of not doing all that much. We lounge in bed for a while, and eventually drag ourselves out to get some breakfast around 11:00. There’s a v cool little café a short hop down the road from us. Iced coffees aplenty, and some absolutely stellar poached eggs for Vicki. Hat shopping is back on for this morning, as the shop is in full flow. Vicki tries on every Trilby in the joint, and happily finds one that we both really like. Her sun hat is great, but it’s a little heavy for all conditions.
Satisfied with our morning’s work, we head down to Tropicoco’s beach bar for a well deserved rest. We share a Prosecco Sangria, which I enjoy much more than I was expecting. I have my first proper dip in the Gulf of Thailand, and am stunned by the incredible warmth of the water - not quite the refresher for which I was hoping.
After a late breakfast, we’re not exactly hungry, so head for a wander up the beach. The sun is beating down, but it’s only a short womble to the far end. We walk past a few places offering beach bungalows, and hear some decent music as we walk. At the far southern end of the beach, there are some stairs, leading to what we’re promised will be the ‘High Life.’ It’s actually a beach bar attached to a guesthouse, but the views are magnificent. They also have Savannah Dry in stock, so I fill my boots. Descending the fairly steep stairs is a lot trickier than ascending. Unscathed, we have another shortish walk up the beach. We pop into a wine shop which appears to be attached to our hotel, and grab a fab bottle of Rosé with which to encourage the afternoon along…
22:30
We spend much of the afternoon listening to a mammoth 7 hour set from Graham Gold - a DJ we know largely from his trance parties in London, and who lives in Koh Pha Ngan. He spins here regularly, and we’re going to see one of his last gigs of the season tomorrow night. It’s very different music to what we’re used to hearing from him, but we both really enjoy it, so much so that we almost forget to go out for dinner.
When we do finally make it out, we go in search of a restaurant called Apache. It involves a walk up a fairly dark and fairly busy main road. It’s not the very funnest of experiences, particularly when we realise we’ve walked too far, and need to double back. It transpires the restaurant we’re looking for is no longer there. I’ve been warned a few times that relying on Lonely Planet recommendations or even Google Maps reviews is a risky strategy. SO much has changed during and since COVID that previously thriving businesses have upped and disappeared. Often, they’re replaced by new entrants to market, but the advice is typically to rely on local advice and guidance.
We instead find ourselves at a place called Nang Sabai, the restaurant of a resort a couple of hundred metres down the beach from ours. It’s a lovely, if slightly chaotic place to spend time. Vicki has one of the best banana daiquiris either of us have ever had. I order some fried pork belly pieces as a starter. Aye carumba, they’re good. Simple breaded and deep fried, but served with a piquant mint, coriander and chilli pickle. Vicki has her first curry of the trip - a green curry with king prawn and pumpkin. It’s delicious. I have something that sounds incredibly weird, but isn’t - Na Mok. A traditional fish and coconut curry is mixed with minced prawns, then stuffed into a banana leaf. The whole thing is then topped with raw egg, and steamed to gently set the egg. On the menu, it’s described as ‘fish curry prawn mince custard.’ Of course I ordered it. It’s something entirely new to me, and I’m so glad I tried it - it’s phenomenal. The flavour of the fish curry shines through everything, but it’s the texture of the set egg custard and minced prawn that really sets it apart. I can’t get banana leaves easily in the UK, but I’ll be trying to replicate this somehow, once we get back home.
We take a wander down the beach, and stop in at Vagga Bar for a post-prandial. It’s only 21:00, but it feels like they’re shutting up shop already. Perhaps there are some early Sunday closing regulations of which we’re not aware. We swing briefly, but after a quick drink, we decide to head back to our room, for some more Graham Gold room-rave. Obvs accompanied by lovely glass of Rosé. Czytaj więcej
Day 9 - Wet, Wet, Wet
13 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 30 °C
17:20
We’ve an alarm at 07:00, but I’m awake comfortably before it. I’ve not slept badly, but equally don’t feel like I’ve had nearly enough. I promise myself a chunky afternoon nap when we get to our accommodation on Koh Pha Ngan.
The early alarm is to make sure we’re at the ferry pier in time for the catamaran to Thong Sala, a 1 hour journey South of us. Since my Sri Lanka trip, I’ve been inspired by Vicki to invest in some packing cubes. They make packing a WHOLE lot quicker/easier. Vicki takes a little longer, but we’re both packed and ready to go a clear 1/2 hour before we need to be.
Our catamaran starts in Koh Tao today, so we board immediately after checking in, and grab a bench seat in the shade (just) to await departure. The boat’s a little late leaving - maybe 10-15 mins, but the breeze once we get underway is a delight. It may only be c. 10:00, but the sun is already strong and hot. The sea is substantially choppier than our journey to Koh Tao on Wednesday. There’s a noticeable lilt and roll to the boat’s motion. We both feel a touch strange for a few minutes as we adjust to it, and elsewhere on the boat there are some casualties with their heads between their knees. There’s a refreshing spray coming up from the sea as the boat crashes down into it, and I enjoy the feeling of being just a touch soggy. Unbeknownst to me, this is not the dampest I will be today. The 1 hour journey passes quickly enough, and we’re soon docking at Thong Sala pier.
Our accommodation is up on the North West of the island, a 10km / 20 minute drive from the pier. Today is the first day of Songkran, the Thai New Year, the main feature of which appears to be water based fun. We saw countless water-pistols being sold in Koh Tao, and as we drive along the coast, our cab is constantly having water thrown at it - from buckets, water-pistols, hoses - even a pressure washer at one point. We’re safe and dry in our vehicle, but see countless scooter riders who are DRENCHED, and frankly a little bit wobbly as they’re riding along. We’d talked about hiring a bike while we’re on Koh Pha Ngan, but think we’ll leave it a couple of days until the celebrations have died down a bit…
Our room at TropiCoco is ready for us on arrival, and is lovely - a garden bungalow, with a beautiful terrace in the garden, and the comfiest bed either of us can remember being in on our travels for quite some time. I think we’d both sleep if we tried, but we’ve not eaten yet today, so lunch is called for. The resort has a beach bar attached to it. They serve us some good wine, an outstanding Spicy Thai Basil Chicken dish with rice, and a way better than we thought it would/should/could be pizza.
We head for the shortest of wanders after we’ve eaten, largely in the interests of finding a (some) new hat(s) for Vicki. Sadly (snigger) the hat shop is closed for Songkran, so shopping is off. We grab a few supplies at the 7/11, and park ourselves at the restaurant that’s attached to the beach bar at TropiCoco. If that sounds convoluted, it sort of is. We discover an Italian family running things, and the brilliant pizza starts to make more sense. Their menu promises a selection of great Italian favourites - those pizzas, some great pasta options, traditional meat and fish dishes. I’m completely sold when I see their description of Spaghetti Carbonara as containing only Guanciale, Eggs, Parmesan and Pecorino cheeses. We decide to book a table and come back for dinner this evening, helped in no small part by our discovery that they have a bottle of Café Patron behind the bar - a tequila and coffee liqueur that we can no longer source in the UK, and which has been a real favourite of ours for years.
On our way back to TropiCoco (all of 30m), I get soaked by a passing pick-up truck, loaded with kids and their various water devices. I cackle with laughter. We’re back at our room by 15:00, and asleep not much later. My alarm wakes us at 16:45. We need to get freshened up and out for dinner at 19:00. It’s a very hectic schedule…
21:30
We both have cracking sleeps. About 90 minutes for me, and a full 2 hours for Vicki. YUM. We head round the corner for dinner to the Italian place we visited earlier. It’s pretty busy - we suspect in part because a lot of the local Thai businesses are closed this evening for New Year. The food we eat is amazing. We’re tempted to have a starter of Café Patron - but resist the urge. Vicks has a very good Caprese salad, while I have a carpaccio of red tuna, which is sensational. I can’t not have the Carbonara, and it’s brilliant. Correctly made with about 4 ingredients, it’s properly banging. Vicks has a sea-bass fillet that is the size of a small horse, perfectly cooked, and gratinated with herbed breadcrumbs. Stunning stuff.
Amazingly, we hold out until this point to order our round of Café Patron. There’s some slight confusion when I ask if I can take a picture of the bottle. I manage to explain that it’s no longer available to buy. We suspect the bottle has been on the shelf for a number of years. When our shot glasses arrive, they’re accompanied by slices of orange, which seems strange until our friend Pawel explains that tequila is typically served with orange in Mexico, rather than lemon or lime. By the power of Grayskull, it’s good, and brings floods of memories back. A real treat. We reckon there are maybe two shots left in the bottle, and consider ourselves to have demonstrated huge amounts of restraint to leave these for tomorrow, even though this risks someone else snapping them up in the meantime…
23:45
We decide to spread our wings a little after dinner, and head to a beach bar a little ways up the beach from TropiCoco, called Vagga Bar. This somehow ends up reminding us both of Vagator in Goa. The seats at the bar are swings - a simply excellent notion. We spend a joyful hour or so swinging backwards and forwards, and sideways on a couple of occasions, nearly coming a cropper several times. There’s some great house playing in the background, but the bar is pretty quiet - maybe 15 customers. We’ll come back another (busier) night to check it out, for sure. We briefly discuss our plans for tomorrow, which amount to quite a lot of not very much. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday promise to be fairly full-on, so we’re making the most of some downtime until then. We walk back up the beach to the beach bar at our place, which is in the process of shutting down at around 22:30. Despite our afternoon naps, we’re both looking forward to a decent sleep in our ultra-comfy bed… Czytaj więcej
Day 8 - That’s a bit more like it
12 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C
12:00
We’re both awake at 09:00, fresh faced, bright eyed, bushy tailed. We head out for some breakfast at a funky little café called the Chunky Monkey. An inescapable trait of getting older for us is figuring out whereabouts we are on the age spectrum of somewhere we visit. At Chunky Monkey, we are comfortably in the top decile. As we eat our breakfast, some more folks turn up who happily drop us down (up?) the order. One of them seems to be a minor celebrity, as customers ask to have their photo taken with him. Either that, or he’s just the oldest person they’ve seen in a long while. It’s warming up by the time we’ve finished, and we retire to the bar deck at Sunrise to think about the rest of the day. We’re still not in a rush to do anything of much at all.
15:45
Refreshed, we head out to a nearby backpacker hostel, Echo, that has a rooftop bar. There’s some Latin / salsa style music playing, some very stoned people cackling with laughter, and just a hint of a breeze to cool us down. They’re out of Manao, but have an apparently appropriate substitute in Singha Lemon Soda. The barman really reminds us of an American actor, but we just can’t quite remember of whom. Gazing across the Gulf of Thailand on a baking hot day with a sharpener in hand is a really special way to pass the time.
We head up the road to Breeze for a snack lunch. They give me some excellent vegan Vietnamese Summer Rolls, and Vicks demolishes her fish finger sandwich. She’s feeling her way back gradually on the food front. She risks a glass of wine, declaring this is likely to be what really indicates how her stomach’s feeling.
Dark grey clouds are beginning to gather. One of the weather apps I use reckons there’ll be storms later. Wouldn’t mind that to be honest. Not only do I love thunderstorms (who doesn’t?) but it might just freshen up the humidity a little. I have some boring Dadmin to do, so we head back to Sunrise. The A/C is welcome, as (clearly) is the bed, as Vicki falls into a deep afternoon sleep. I entertain myself by writing this journal, having a beer, and catching up on last week’s episodes of Masterchef.
Rock and roll baby, rock and roll.
21:30
I leave Vicki to sleep for a good 90 minutes. She’ll wake up if she’s ready to. Around 17:00 I dare to wake her, and she actually responds pretty well. I think I’ve judged it perfectly.
I sit outside watching the sunset while Vicks showers and gets herself ready to go out. Some Scandinavian divers are playing a few games of Kubb. I don’t really understand the rules, but it’s fun to spectate. I accidentally cheer at one point, and am unsure whether it was to celebrate a very good throw, or basically to laugh at a poor one.
Although I could sit at this table for the duration, we need to get fed. We head to a well reviewed Thai place on one of the streets heading up from the beach. It is, frankly, average. Everything’s just a bit bland. Not what we’ve come to expect.
To console ourselves, we head to Breeze for a glass of rosé. We don’t know when we’ll see wine this nice again. I mean, it’s *probably* tomorrow, but you can’t take anything for granted.
Reflections on Koh Tao - a BRILLIANT place to kick back. This was always gonna be a lazy couple of days, and it’s worked out exactly that way, irrespective of Vicks’ sickliness. We’d definitely come back here - and happily expect to laze and relax, or be more active and adventurous. We’ve made it a grand total of about 300m from our guesthouse, and I get the sense there’s a whole island out there that we could and should explore.
Back at our room Vicki prevaricates in order to avoid having to pack. We catch up with some friends back in the UK, who are rapidly approaching their weekend. I guess, so are we - but we’re barely aware of what day it is. Bisto. Czytaj więcej
Day 7 - It’s not easy doing this little
11 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 30 °C
10:30
We agree a 10:00 alarm, but I’m awake around 08:30. Our room is pretty basic. Clean, comfortable, cool etc etc - but it lacks some fairly straightforward amenities - like curtains. I often wear an eye-mask to sleep during Summer, so that I’m not woken by light. Don’t know if I’ve had a particularly vigorous night’s sleep, but it’s on the floor when I wake. The exertion of trying to reach it from my prone position, without falling out of the bed, means that I’m more than awake enough when I finally grab it that more sleep is not an option. Merde.
Now I’m awake, I realise it’s also pretty noisy. Our room is RIGHT next to the bar area. I can hear the water gently lapping- at the shoreline, which is an incredibly soothing sound. I can also pretty clearly hear other guests’ conversations in the bar area and in the property next door to us, which conversely means they’ll be able to hear ours. Noted.
Vicki continues to sleep next to me. Her ability to sleep through pretty much anything, but even more impressively - to wake, and then fall back to sleep in these conditions, is just astonishing. When the alarm goes off at 10:00, she declares more sleeps are needed, and who am I to disagree.
I write this from an increasingly sunny and warm decking area next to the bar. Koh Tao is famous as a diving destination, and there are countless diving boats heading off into the distance. I gave up on diving when I had terrible balance issues about 10 years ago, and haven’t been tempted to give it another go since. I can just about cope with snorkelling to a few metres deep, but not sure my vestibular system will cope with anything deeper than that.
Oooh, 10:30. Time to check on Vicki…
18:00
It’s been a stop/start kind of a day. Vicki agrees to some limited waking up at 10:30, and has had 10+ hours of sleep (again). I need to wash the travel off me, so have a quick shower before we head out for some breakfast. We find a cool little café where Vicki can quench her thirst for eggs.
She’s feeling a little delicate though. I suspect a combination of heat and travel have caught up with her. We agree it makes sense to stay within dashing distance of a decent dunny for the day. We spend a very relaxing bit of time down by the beach, watching the world go by. Around 14:00, I feel like a nap, so have one. There’s no way I’m letting Vicki have a full two hours more of sleep than me.
We’re both feeling a little peckish by 16:00, so head out to grab some food. There’s a great little Thai place just down the street from us. Ultra basic, but very tasty. They manage to cater to Vicki’s need for plain - with an omelette and some steamed rice. I’ve not had a curry yet, so have the green chicken curry. It’s superb. Her rice finished, Vicks decides to head back to our room while I finish up. Having finished my rice, and with half a bowl of curry sauce left, I opt to drink it from the bowl like a soup. The cunning cook lady has cunningly hidden three cunning birds-eye chillies at the bottom of the bowl. Thankfully, I only eat one of them before I realise. It’s a bit of a shock to the system though.
We repair to our guesthouse, and grab a drink by the beach as the sun starts to droop towards the horizon. Vicks heads off for a rest/nap, and I contemplate just how much effort it takes to do as little as we have today. Honestly, it’s not easy…
23:30
Vicks sleeps for a good 90 minutes, and I find her curled under a bath towel when I head back to our room. We’re both ready for a snack, so head out for some food. She’s not quite in a place to extend beyond steamed rice and water. I, on the other hand, have some fab fried prawns, and a slightly weird noodle ‘salad’ that is neither cold, nor strictly speaking, a a salad. A brief pit stop at the 7/11 on the way home for some more water and a couple of beers, and we spend the rest of the evening resting up. I finish a book, while Vicks watches a movie.
I’m conscious I’ve not really taken many/any photos today, so here are some taken by our lovely cat sitter, Kristine, of the boys at home in Brighton. Czytaj więcej
Day 6 - Southward, island bound...
10 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ ☁️ 31 °C
09:20
Today is comfortably the longest travel day we have before we head home. The alarm clock at 06:00 is no-one’s best friend, but I’m more than impressed when Vicks and I are both ready to leave our room by 06:50. Our flight to Koh Samui is 10:10, so we’re aiming for the airport around 08:00. Traffic is surprisingly light. In the city centre, it’s busy but not manic. Once we’re out on the expressway, the vast majority of traffic is headed into the city, rather than out. Chaos only ensues when we get to the airport. 400 cars and vans are competing for approximately 17 drop-off spaces.
Inside the terminal, things couldn’t be easier and calmer. A very sweet Bangkok Airways employee helps us with our baggage tags, and another then helps us drop the bags off, before handing over our boarding passes. Soup to nuts in about 5 minutes flat. We pass a pretty vague security check, unsure whether that’s all the security we need before boarding. We head down to the domestic departures concourse, stop briefly at the Bangkok Airways lounge for a sandwich. Boarding is at 09:40, so we’ve plenty of time.
14:35
The flight down was blissfully brief, but had a slightly rocky start. We’re due to board at 09:40 for a 10:10 departure. Per the plan, we’re corralled onto an airport bus around 09:35 for the (hopefully) short drive out to the plane. The bus does indeed drive out towards some planes. It then turns around, and heads back to the terminal. No explanation is offered. Happily, there’s A/C on the bus, otherwise there might be mutiny. The A/C is cranking out so hard, in fact, that a couple of folks complain of the cold. Idiots. After ten minutes of waiting with no explanation, we begin to get a little bored. A Thai gentleman asks the driver and airline official what’s going on, and reports back to Vicki that they’re ‘moving the plane’ to another part of the airport. Weird… After another 15 minutes, the airline official tells us that it’ll be another 5 minutes. 10 minutes later, we are de-bussed, back into the terminal. Still no real explanation as to what’s going on. The best we can manage is that there was a technical fault with our original aircraft, but someone’s found another one down the back of the sofa - it’ll be here in 10 minutes, then they’ve just gotta bung some unleaded in it, and we’ll be off. It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Back in the terminal, there’s a little grab and go cart that sells various snacks and drinks, including ice cold cans of Singha. Rude not to / settling nerves etc etc. Finally, about 40 minutes after our original departure time, we’re loaded back onto the bus, and to our plane.
We’re on a propeller plane - not a single engine / 4 seat type job, but a 60 odd seater. Same aircraft we flew on once or twice in Vietnam, and that I travelled on from Nairobi down to the Masai Mara a few years back. It’s fairly cramped inside, and I’m not sure I’ll ever quite get used to the sensation of being so low to the ground, when we’ve most recently flown the upper deck of an A380. All that said, I find the thrum of a propeller engine a little surreal, and definitely soothing. I can sense Vicki tensing a couple of times in the seat next to me, but on reflection, we both agree it’s a pretty easy way to head Southward bound…
Koh Samui Airport is teeny. There are actually a few international flights that land here, but it’s predominantly used for small, domestic flights. The ‘arrivals hall’ looks like a gazebo my old school mate Henry used to have in his Dad’s garden. The luggage carousel is the smallest I think I’ve ever seen. The heat immediately feels degrees easier than in Bangkok. Yes - it’s still hot, but straight away we both feel like it’s easily manageable.
Our ferry departs from the other side of the island in about 3 hours. Our cab drives us over to Na Thon - around 35 minutes. Gazing out of the window doesn’t make me want to fall in love with Koh Samui. It feels very built up. Shacks - whether housing massage parlours, restaurants, cannabis cafés - line the streets in unending fashion. We got about 10km without spotting a tree. I’m not sure it’s even a town that we’re in - but rather just a conurbation build up along the North coast of the island. Not really my cup of tea.
We’re at Na Thon by 13:30, and have a couple of hours to kill. There’s an interesting sounding café/bar a couple of hundred metres away, so we heft our bags onto our backs, and make our way. The Road Less Travelled is a very cool, bohemian style hangout. There’s quite a bit of confusion when we ask for a glass of wine, but we get there eventually. Their food is amazing - a kind of Eggs Benedict type affair for Vicki, and a spicy glass noodle and prawn salad for me. It’s a really rather pleasant place to spend a couple of hours while we wait for our onward journey to resume…
23:50
The ferry from Koh Samui leaves at 16:00, so we’re at the ferry terminal by 15:30. We’re not really sure what’s going on, except that we need to put a tag on our bags, and a sticker on our t-shirts. It’s all a little confusing. We board around 16:15. Downstairs there’s a very cool (temp wise) cabin, which is also very sterile. We elect to sit on the middle deck where we can actually breathe, and feel the ocean breeze as the ferry moves. The boat is full - very few seats available, but we find a little corner to make our own. My t-shirt sticker falls off, but I attach it to the back of my Magsafe iPhone case - a move I will later regret. We have a quick stop to make in Koh Pha Ngan, then full steam ahead for Koh Tao. There’s a hazy quality to the sun - it actually doesn’t feel that hot or that strong. I’m more than happy leaning against the edge of the deck, watching the world go by.
We’re a touch late arriving into Koh Tao, but happily our guesthouse is only 100m walk from the ferry pier. There’s a really laid back feel to the place. it’s definitely taken a leaf out of the book of surf-houses I’ve stayed in over the years. Their bar opens up onto the beach, and we watch a staggeringly beautiful sunset over the water, while we slightly bizarrely enjoy a Thatcher’s Gold - a cider I normally associate with being at Glastonbury.
We’ve done Thai food seventy six ways since Saturday, so head to a seafood place a few minutes walk along the coast. The food is smashing - no idea what fish they actually cooked for us, but it was very tasty, and done incredibly well. The bar even serves Savannah Dry, so I’m coming back for sure.
We nip back to our room to drop off a couple of groceries, then head along the coast in the other direction to a place called Bamboo Beach Bar. Toes in the sand, cocktails in the hand sorta place. I discover a Thai brewed cider, which is way better than I thought it would be, and also manage to try a Gin and Manao, which Vicki Rish insisted is the best thing since crack. She’s not wrong. Definitely from the same stable as vodka limon, but even and more. There are some cool tunes being played - Bonobo style house. It reminds us a lot of Goa a ways back when. We could happily weigh anchor, but we’ve got an incredibly busy day of doing fuck all tomorrow, so decide that bed and sleep are our friends. Czytaj więcej
Day 5 - We got this.
9 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 31 °C
10:00
Day 5 is off to a somewhat bumpy start. Neither of us has slept well. While reading last night as Vicki fell asleep next to me, I could feel a thickness in the back of my throat. A couple of times, while still awake, my breathing started to sound a little like a snore. This does not bode well. Sure enough, around 02:30, I receive a ‘gentle’ nudge to stop me snoring. Normally, this is only when I’m sleeping on my back, to encourage me to roll on to my side. Tonight, oh no - I’m already on my side, and yet still… This happens a few times, and I sense us both becoming frustrated. At 03:30, I decide to read for a while, to (hopefully) let Vicki fall into a deeper sleep. At 04:30, I try to sleep again, and am just starting to drift off when I receive a sharp kick to the shin. Nothing to do with snoring this time - I think Vicks is just in the midst of a very vivid dream. It’s accidental, but still a shock. I finally get back off to sleep. When the alarm goes off at 09:15, we compare war stories. Poor Vicks was later kept awake by some noisy folks in the hotel. It has not been a successful night. It takes me no time at all to suggest Vicki gets some more sleep. An overly tired Mrs Hubs is not going to have fun today…
21:37
Well, we HAVE had fun, largely because we’ve scaled back our ambition to cater to the insane heat we’re experiencing. Today is going to hit 39C, with a ‘feels like’ temperature of 47C. Shortly after my last entry, I head out to grab us an iced coffee from the shop next to our hotel. Even at 10:00, the heat is just a mind-shattering assault. We decide that we need to keep walking in the heat to an absolute minimum today, and plan for any outdoors activity later in the afternoon. I play around with a few ideas, and come to the conclusion that we’ll have lunch by the river, then head onwards towards a graffiti park in the financial district, with frequent stops along the way to rehydrate.
Lunch is at an awesome place called Naam 1608, and when I say it’s by the river, I mean it’s on the river. Our table is hanging out over the water, and the views are incredible. There’s also a breeze coming off the water that helps cools us, and some electric fans in a supporting role. It’s still hot, but manageably so. We have some incredible food - a spicy glass noodle salad, some stir-fried duck with basil, and some fried rice. The heat of the salad particularly is towards my upper limit for chilli. Or at least, it’s towards my upper ‘comfortable’ limit. Vicks is far more careful than I am in avoiding the many slices of birds-eye chilli through the dishes. My bravado will return to haunt me at some point…
After lunch, we jump in a cab to take us over towards the financial district. After 3 days in Bangkok, my geography of the city is starting to piece together. There are several places I recognise as we pass them, and some others that ring vague bells. We’d planned a walk through one of Bangkok’s most beautiful parks this afternoon, but sack it off due to the heat. Instead, we have our cab drop us at a lovely hotel, with an even lovelier bar. What starts as a brief pit-stop transforms into a thoroughly enjoyable 2 hour sojourn, replete with cocktails, wine and Prosecco. The bathrooms are spectacular, and come equipped with Japanese toilets - featuring, um, ‘additional cleaning functions.’ It appears the first I visit is out of order. Not to be denied, I use a different cubicle shortly before we leave, and am rewarded with a really rather lovely sensation in the derriere section of the orchestra. There is an incident when one of my dearest friends who shall remain nameless (isn’t that right, Ali?) laughs at the use of the word ‘pegging’ in my day 3 write up. Vicks has to resort to Google…
By 17:00, we figure it might be safe to go outside. We make it as far as a little street food market about 50m from the bar we’ve been in. Some food seems in order, so we pop into an Izakaya specialising in Yakitori - small skewers of (typically) meat cooked over charcoal. The undoubted highlight of our visit is a can of sparkling plum saké with jelly through it. I’m not kidding - proper jelly. It sounds like it should be disgusting, but really is not. We have a lovely tuna sashimi salad, some squid eggs, quite a few different bits of chicken (but stop short of the gizzards), and pork belly. V tasty.
Around the corner, we take a wander through the graffiti park, where a vigorous game of football is in progress. The wall art is pretty varied. Some of an incredibly high standard, and pretty imaginative; some is more basic tagging. It’s great to see a public park like this at least in part given over to folks to express themselves in this way.
We’ve an early start in the morning, needing to be at the airport by 08:00 for our flight down to Koh Samui. We head back over to Banglamphu for a glass of wine (or 3 as it turns out) at So-Samsen, before heading back to our room to get packed up.
Reflections on Bangkok? We’ve both really enjoyed our time here. It’s been a little different than we’d perhaps intended. We’ve treated it as a several day insight into the food culture of Bangkok, without necessarily tapping in to the history and scenery of the city. The city is vibrant and exciting, and has an incredible amount to offer. We both agree we’d happily return, but would first try to understand whether the heat we’ve experienced is an off-kilter season, or as we both suspect, evidence of climate change. If the latter, we’d have to try and visit during one of the cooler months. That said, Bangkok doesn’t really have significantly cooler months. Average highs for April are typically 34C. The lowest monthly average (December) you’re likely to see is 31C.
We’re both ready to head South, and continue our adventure in the islands, first in Gulf of Thailand, and then over in the Andaman Sea. Czytaj więcej
Day 4 - Help me - I'm melting...
8 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 30 °C
09:30
I’m frustratingly awake a little after 06:00. I was asleep before 23:00, so it’s not like I’ve not had a decent amount. It’s more that my darling wife fell asleep well before me, and has continued to sleep for two hours after I wake up. It’s just not fair. I’ve spent a happy enough couple of hours working out our plans for today. We’re going to do our very best to do more than a glorified bar crawl. So - that’s slightly fewer bars, slightly more random pictures of weird shit. Hold tight for feedback…
16:30
We have repaired to our hotel room to recover before our tuk-tuk food tour later. The temperature is crushing. We head out for some breakfast around 11:00, and then jump on the courtesy tuk-tuk from our hotel down to the Grand Palace at 12:00. The sun is sweltering. We quickly clock a poster informing us that we are not appropriately dressed. Long trousers for men, and I suspect they’d cast aspersions on Vicki’s leggings as well. Fair fucks - we should have checked ahead of time. We plan to head on to Wat Pho - famous for the giant, gold reclining buddha. It’s a 15 minute walk, but we feel like we’ve walked double that distance. I stop to douse myself in factor 50 sunscreen. As we near the entrance, I spot the same poster. We’re not having much luck today, and are starting to melt. We quickly decide to head for the river, and hope we find a bar we can shelter in for a while. Walking past both the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, they look very pretty, but there’s no way I’m wearing long trousers in heat like this.
Approaching the riverside, we find a cool (literally and figuratively) little bar/restaurant and dive in. The Chang they bring me is perhaps the sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted. Vicki is sat in front of a giant fan. As we finish our beers, we decide we’re not yet ready to brave the heat again, so order a couple of gin and tonics. We could put roots down quite happily… The views over the river are great. Across the river is Wat Arun, another stunning example of Buddhist temple architecture (which we won’t be allowed into due to dress code etc etc). I have a squiz in my Lonely Planet, and yes - they do advise that you check the dress code requirements for these monuments. C’est la vie.
We decide to head further to the east of Bangkok, towards Chinatown. The best option is to jump on one of the regular boat buses that meander chaotically up and down the Chao Phraya river. It’s a short, 5 min walk to the ferry pier, and we’re both steaming by the time we arrive. We buy our tickets (all of 20p each), and sit in the waiting room for our ferry. There’s a digital display showing that two boats are going to arrive soon that are heading the wrong way (for us) up the river, but there are no scheduled boats going the way we need. Suddenly, the tannoy system kicks into life. We blindly follow people in making for the boarding point. Hopefully there’s a) going to be a boat, and b) it’ll be the right one. There is and it is. We (very) quickly board the Orange boat heading East. We’ve got 4 stops to go. Cruising down the river is amazing. The views of life on the shore are fascinating - a mixture of family homes on stilts over water, food and drink places, and the occasional hotel. A few longtail boats speed past us - serving as private water taxis. The boat’s pretty busy. For the folks of Bangkok, it’s much like taking the bus.
We disembark at Marine Department, and head for a restaurant I’ve heard great things about, which is only a couple of minutes walk up the road. We arrive, and the only seating options are outside in the sun. We decline. We walk further to find another well reviewed place, which is closed. Today is a public holiday, and quite a few places have shut.
I find one last place to try, and we set off. I can just about bare the heat, which is suffocating. I can see Vicks is starting to struggle. We’re about halfway to this alleged hostelry when we pass a 7/11. We dive in to cool down in the stunningly cold A/C. I suggest we grab some cold water, and Vicki approves. She looks a bit peaky, and I suggest she has a little rest before we continue. Bless - she’s been properly taken down by the heat, and has a little sit down next to one of the chilled food sections. We decide that continuing to march around this heat isn’t going to do anyone any favours. We grab a cab to take us back towards Banglamphu. We seek refuge in Tani, where we had lunch yesterday. We know the room is cool, the food is great, and the wine may or may not be available. We have a fabulous lunch, a really pretty good bottle of Prosecco to share, after some more confusion on the part of the service team to find what we’ve ordered. We’re just grateful when they turn up with cold things.
Back in our room, the A/C is cranked up to the max, and we’re trying to summon the energy to head back out around 18:00…
23:30
Well that was FUN. We jump in a cab around 17:45 to take us over towards Chinatown. The car is a Mitsubishi Xpander. True story. As the sun starts to set, it feels like the very worst of the heat is beginning to pass. We arrive at the mall near which we’ll meet our guide and fellow tourists. Both of us are feeling a touch sideways. Difficult to put finger on, but just a sense of being out of sorts. Vicks uses the word discombobulated. I retort with dazed and confused. Neither of us is wrong. It feels like we have a light touch of heat stroke - a little dizziness, light nausea, and I’ve had a banging headache all day. In the mall, we find a grocery store and buy cold water and a couple of chocolate bars. They help us feel a little better.
Meeting time for the tour is 19:00, and we’re quickly bundled into our tuk-tuk for the evening’s entertainment. Our first stop is at a Michelin recommended noodle shop. We have a quick look at their ‘kitchen’ which is 4 oil drums being used as charcoal burners in what can best be described as a back-alley. The heat is staggering, but the skill on show breathtaking. Their stir-fried chicken noodles are sublime. Amazing marinade on the chicken, hand pulled rice noodles with an other worldly texture, eggs scrambled in at the end of cooking, then finished with some moderately spicy pickled chillies, and some sweet and sour sriracha. Banging. The price for these noodles of all noodles? £1.20 for a decent bowlful.
Our second stop is slightly more esoteric. It’s run by an Uighur Muslim, who emigrated to Northern Thailand (Chiang Mai) about 15 years ago, and then on to Bangkok around 8 years ago. She brought the flavours of the Chinese Muslim traditions with her, but cooks with local ingredients that would be out of place in China. Galangal aplenty, fresh white pepper, egg noodles, and coconut milk. We’re served another healthy portion of chicken, stewed in a spiced coconut broth, with egg noodles, and deep dried wonton wrappers. Our guide, Bill, directs us to top the bowl with a squeeze of lime, some raw red onion and some pickled cabbage. It’s delicious, and whilst I might have thought the onion and cabbage overkill, they both really add to the taste of the dish.
By stop 3, we’re flagging a little. Happily, it’s a more family style affair, with sharing plates laid across a large table. Some grilled pork neck is just brilliant, a pork soup like a hug in a bowl, a salad of pickled bamboo shoots not quite what I expected, and a Som Tum (green papaya salad) actually a bit bland. Vicks and I both love this salad, but particularly when it’s got bang and punch in equal amounts. This is delicate, subtly fragrant, and as a result, just a touch underwhelming.
We’re rolling towards the finish line, with a stop at a snack stall for sweet treats. I couldn’t really tell you what they are. Honestly - all three that we try are a little strange. One is deep fried egg yolk noodles with stewed persimmon, one is a little doughy coconut cake, and the last is a sort of rubbery disc of ‘something’ with some crunchy banana in it.
We’ve christened our driver ‘Jeff’ mainly so we have something to shout to him to cajole him to drive faster. There are 8 people on our tour, in 4 tuk-tuks. Whilst the race isn’t official, there’s quite a lot of scheming and skullduggery at play. On one single corner, we somehow conspire to go from 1st to 4th. We are disappointed. Jeff doesn’t seem to care.
Our penultimate stop is at the flower market, a huge engine of enterprise that is open 24/7. We learn a little about how to fold lotus flowers properly, see huge mountains of marigolds being prepared for forthcoming religious celebrations, and are shown some weird and wonderful vegetables by Bill.
It’s pushing 22:00, and Vicks and I are both ready for a beer. Happily, our last stop is at a riverside bar, very near where we pit-stopped earlier today. The view across to Wat Arun is incredible. The temple is lit up, and contrasts so vividly against the backdrop of the city. A drink is included in our tour price, so we both grab a Cuba Libre, and kick-back. We’re on a 5th floor rooftop terrace, and the breeze is taking the edge off the heat.
At 22:15, Jeff takes us back to our hotel, which we ignore and head to a bar we found last night that serves half decent wine at more than half decent prices. I love going back to a bar that we’ve only visited once, only to be greeted like long-lost friends returning from adventures. Couple of wines later, and we’re ready for rest. We’ve made some decisions about our plans tomorrow that should avoid us having to do too much walking in the insane heat. As it’s not a public holiday, we should also find it easier to locate cool oases along the way to simmer down.
SHOULD.
SHOULD. Czytaj więcej
Day 3 - Sunday = funday
7 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 30 °C
11:00
Needn’t have worried about sleeping/jet-lag. We both sleep pretty much through the night. I wake up a shade before 10:00 feeling hugely refreshed. I wake Vicki as agreed at 10:00, and she declares she needs just a few more sleeps. Gives me a chance to catch up on my travel musings. We’ve nothing much planned today. Some general mooching and exploring. Feels deluxe to be able to take the morning very very easy….
14:45
Vicki attempts to wake up on several occasions, and fails. At 12:15, I decide I’ll try another sleep, and have a fab 45 min doze. I decide 11 hours is definitely enough. Vicki does not. She finally wakes up at 14:00, after 13 1/2 hours. A tremendous effort. I’ve long since given up trying to persuade her against these kinds of sleeps. I’m no longer jealous of them, as I can all but match her on the sleeping front when I need to. I’ve also just learnt that there’s no point. When she’s minded to sleep for as long as possible, there’s nothing I know of that will change her mind. While she’s slept, I’ve been updating our plan for today. That’s a bit of a misnomer really - I’ve been gradually been deleting stuff that we now won’t get to. It’s all good - nothing during our stay in Bangkok is set in stone, and I’d far rather we were both rested and relaxed. I think we’ll head out this afternoon to the Khao San road, and maybe on towards the Riverside neighbourhood. We need food first though…
22:00
Admittedly, we only make it out of our room around 15:00, but it feels like we’ve had a full and productive day. Leaving the hotel, we’re met by a wall of heat - proper shock to the senses. We march (lies) up the Samsen Road in search of lunch. There’s a well reviewed place not far from us. Walking through their door, it’s beautifully cool, and as we sit at our table, we walk past a giant wine fridge. Much like my time in Sri Lanka, wine will, I suspect, be fleeting in Thailand. Grab it while you can etc etc. The bar has a cool sounding Thai IPA on draft which I order, and we spend a little longer than we really should asking for a glass of Chardonnay for Vicki. My beer arrives quickly, along with the water we’ve requested. There’s some confusion about Vicki’s wine. Our server spends several minutes stood in front of the wine fridge looking confused. She phones someone to request help. None is forthcoming. Eventually, she brings over a completely different bottle of white wine, and asks if it’s the right one. It’s close enough, so we acquiesce. It’s actually pretty decent - an oaky Aussie Chardonnay. Vicki looks very pleased with herself.
Looking at the menu, the food sounds amazing, albeit much pricier than the tiny place we ate in last night. We both remark that it takes very little time when we’re travelling to stop converting everything from Baht (or other currency) to £ each time we see a price, but rather to compare prices to others we’ve seen nearby. This place is comfortably double what we paid last night, which makes it a treat. We order some braised and stir-fried pork with holy basil, and some grilled sirloin with Thai fried rice. Both are delicious.
Sated, we head back out, aiming for the Khao San Road. This is the backpacker hub made so famous by The Beach, but changed beyond all recognition now. It’s seen a significant upgrade in the past 20 years, and is now a neon lit, paved highway of bars offering buckets, and weed shops. There is, of course, an Irish bar.
The sun’s beating down, and we deserve a beer. We walk along one of the streets running parallel to Khao San, and plonk ourselves onto a sofa outside My Darling. It feels like a beach bar without the beach. As we drink our Tiger (me) and wine (Vicki), we watch the street hawkers selling their wares to the customers. Nearby is an English family. Looks like Mum, Dad and two boys, both of whom look to be around 20. Dad buys a bifta from one of the hawkers, and shares it with his boys. Another hawker proposes some sort of taser device, which they snap up, and then proceed to shock each other with. It’s top drawer entertainment.
The booze makes us hotter than we were, which feels like it’s defeating the object. I find us a bar a couple of hundred metres up the road that looks air-conditioned. We make for it with very little haste. Walking into the chilly bar is a bit of a moment for both of us, It’s about 38C today, and feels every bit of it. There’s some sort of Happy Hour deal on at the moment on cocktails, so Vicki orders several strawberry daiquiris. I grab a glass of wine, but promise to help out with the third cocktail. We spend a lovely hour or so chatting, catching up on our correspondences, reading, cooling.
When we leave, the sun has set, and it’s starting to cool a little. We make for the rooftop bar of the place we had lunch earlier. There’s a lovely breeze at 6 floors up, and there’s some very cool house playing in the background. We grab a bottle of wine to share, and hit the off switch. There’s a very pretty, glam Thai lady sitting on her own at the bar. I more than slightly suspect she’s a hooker, working a smart hotel bar. She starts chatting to us, and I feel a little ashamed. She is Shaanxi, a Thai born US citizen living in San Diego, who is in Thailand for work. Well - she’s actually in Thailand for fun, before she heads to Malaysia and the Philippines for work. I would have pegged her at around 30-35, but she’s actually mid to late 40s. She has a bit of a horror story to tell us about an allergic reaction to a mossie bite that leaves her in hospital in Bangkok for 2 days, coughing blood, and with a massively swollen face. She’s a very pleasant distraction for half an hour, but at no point do I feel like telling her I thought she was on the game.
Our boozing has left us peckish, and we head back into Banglamphu, stopping at a hostel restaurant not far from our hotel. We have another Som Tum (think it was 2 chillies this time, noticeably warmer), some shrimp fried rice, and some pork Laab balls - all tremendous. The wine’s not bad either. We’re both flagging a little, so I suggest to Vicks that we head back to the hotel for a rest/ recuperate.
Bless her - she’s fast asleep next to me. It’s been a tough day… Czytaj więcej
Day 2 - Bangkok with a Bang
6 kwietnia 2024, Tajlandia ⋅ 🌙 30 °C
22:30
I suspect these updates will be a daily affair. It transpires that having my travel partner in crime with me means that my ‘spare’ time for writing is occupied with much laughter and stuff. There will always be times when Vicks is sleeping, and I am not.
Lots to catch up on though. Our first flight from Gatwick was a breeze. We both managed about 3 hours sleep from a total flying time of a shade over 6 hours, which is a pretty good result. We land around 07:30, and have a frankly leisurely transit at Dubai airport, with more than enough time for a couple of beers at Hard Rock Café. I love transit airport bars, particularly those with such a geographical reach as Dubai. All time-zones are represented, and we enjoy guessing what body-clock time different travellers are on. There are the Europeans, for whom it’s 04:00 or thereabouts, the North Americans, who are at the midnight end of the day, and Asians, who are approaching lunch. For all, it’s definitely beer o’clock.
Our second flight is an equally straightforward affair. Flying time on this leg is only 5 1/2 hours, as we’ll catch a heavy tail wind most of the way. Again, we manage some decent sleep. 3 hours for Vicks, and near enough to that for me. We should both feel fresh enough on arrival to manage to head out for some beers and food.
Deplaning in Bangkok, we’re met by a wall of heat. From the air-conditioned cool of the plane to the tropical humidity of the city is a body shock. Immigration is done in a jiffy - neither of us is asked any questions about our stay, visas etc etc. The drive into the city is a slightly fraught affair, our driver determined that we’ll make it to our hotel in record time. Fair play to him - Google Maps reckoned it was a 40 minute drive, but we arrive in less than 30. It’s 20:00 local time, and we both feel like our journey has rushed past very quickly, despite the distance we’ve travelled.
Checked in and cooled down, we head out into Banglamphu for an explore and for some sustenance. I’ve marked a bunch of places in Google Maps that are worth a visit, and most appear to be cocktail bars. We womble to one of the food places I’ve recommended, which transpires to be a tiny restaurant serving some cracking Thai staples. We share some fried rice noodles, a green papaya salad and some fried dumplings - all of which are excellent. I’m a huge fan of these Thai salads, and often make a version at home with cucumber, carrot and shredded raw swede. When ordering, we’re asked how hot we’d like it. “Tourist spicy’ is our reply. We agree on 1 chilli, and that’s about right. I could stomach more, but I’m not sure it would be in my long-term best interests. Including a couple of beers, the damage is about £12.
We wander a little further towards the river, and find the incredibly named “Adhere the 13th Blues Bar.” We sit at a small street side table watching the world go by, me with a beer and Vicki with a Pina Colada. This tiny joint is heaving, and a band is warming up. The smells of Thai weed drift down the street. The band are good, playing boogie-woogie style blues pretty effectively. A trio of middle-aged European men arrive, and I can’t help but think ‘sex tourists.’
We’re both approaching the finishing line. We manage one more beer at a backpacker bar in the back streets of Banglamphu, and stumble back to our hotel room. It’s 23:00, and we’re both hopeful that our sleeps earlier will mean we get a decent sleep through the night. Fingers crossed etc etc. Czytaj więcej
Day 1 - Thailand Travels
5 kwietnia 2024, Anglia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C
19:30
Welcome back! Hope those of you that do, had a good Easter. Hope those of you that don’t, enjoyed the time off.
Thailand this time, and with my amazing partner-in-crime along for the ride. Vicki and I have both wanted to visit Thailand for years - both since and before we got together in 2007, and yet we’ve never quite got around to it. We’ve talked about the why - we both know a bunch of folks that have visited Thailand multiple times over the years, and what they’ve told us is that it’s changed, it’s massively modernised from what it was, and that it’s not the same experience anymore. We listened to them.
More recently, and in some part due to me having so much more time to travel, we decided that our experience of Thailand would be our experience. We’ve both been to Goa multiple times, and whilst we’d not necessarily say it was the same experience of 20 years ago, we still love it. Why should Thailand be different? There are still amazing places to explore, there’s still incredible food to eat, there are still great people to meet - and what we’ll come back with are OUR memories of Thailand, our perspectives, our experiences and our judgements.
We’re on a late flight out of Gatwick, and much like our trip to South Africa earlier this year, it’s made for a pretty laid back departure from the UK - even easier this time as we’re flying on Emirates from Gatwick, just up the road from Brighton. Our cab arrives at 17:30, and we’re safely checked in, through airport security and into Brewdog by 18:30. I’m flying on Emirates quite frequently this year, so the pathway from home to departure lounge beer is becoming a well worn one for me. I now realise the bar we’re in is opposite one of the bars we used to visit c. 15 years ago before flying, when we were both a LOT more anxious about it. We spend some time discussing a fateful occasion, when after necking about a bottle of wine each in pretty sharp order, we order another to decant into water bottles to ‘keep us going’ until the drinks trolley makes the rounds on the flight. Thankfully, we’re both a lot happier flying these days. I dive into a few excellent ciders, while Vicki browses various offerings from the wine menu.
21:00
Our flight is the last out of the airport tonight. It’s a slightly strange sensation knowing that everyone left in the airport is going to the same place as you. The bar starts shutting down around us. We’re not *quite* the last to leave, but very close to it… Czytaj więcej
Day 18 - Home. Awesome! Reflections...
21 marca 2024, Zjednoczone Emiraty Arabskie ⋅ 🌙 23 °C
Day 18 - Home. Awesome! Reflections…
02:30 (Colombo time)
Sat in the departure lounge at CMB, waiting to board my flight. Colombo Airport is not one to aim for if you’ve got a long transit planned. There’s really not much of anything in the departure area. The one bar is a canteen style affair with a very limited range of food and drinks. There are two different tea shops, neither of which is open. There’s a Burger King, if that’s your thing.
08:00 (Dubai time)
First flight was pretty average. My seat was broken - I seem to be having a run of poor fortune with seats. This time, it would recline. It would ONLY recline. Every time I lean against it at all, it goes back to a full recline. Bit of a pain for me, but moreso for the poor guy behind me, whose drink I’m pretty sure I spill on more than one occasion. The cabin crew are powerless to do anything about it. The flight is entirely full, and was actually overbooked by 36 people. I’ll probably get some airmiles out of it, and I do at least manage to get a couple of hours sleep.
The transfer at Dubai is a far easier-going experience. We’ve landed on-time, and I’ve a good 90 minutes to cross the airport. I even have time for a quick sharpener at Jack’s Bar. I’ve treated myself to a business class seat for the second and longer of my two flights, so have no worries about getting to the gate at the last minute. Once onboard, I unfold myself into my seat. I’ve flown in business on an Emirates A380 before, and it’s a very cool place to spend time. Couple of glasses of champagne before take-off, which I barely register, so gentle and quiet is it…
11:00 (UK time)
I decided after take-off to get some sleep early doors, then rinse the wine/cocktails/food etc. I get to sleep pretty quickly, and feel quite refreshed when I wake up. It’s only once I’ve popped to the loo, and have found myself a spot at the stand-up bar that I realise I’ve slept for all of 20 minutes. They’re serving a world class California Chardonnay, into which I tuck. My glass keeps getting refilled without asking. This is both great, and a problem - I’d quite wanted to try the 2011 Bordeaux they’ve got on board as well.
‘Lunch’ is served at a body-clock challenging 08:00 UK time, but is very tasty. I manage to snag some of that Bordeaux to accompany my lamb loin. After lunch, I grab some more sleep, and manage a good couple of hours before I’m woken ahead of our landing into Gatwick. Looking out of the window, it seems cold, grey and mizzly. Standard.
15:00
I’ve had an amazing trip, but it’s SO good to be home with my awesome Vicki, and my beloved boys, neither of whom yet seem that impressed to see me.
Sri Lanka? Go. Go as soon as you can. Maybe even go twice. It’s a fabulous country to visit, and I can’t wait to take Vicki there in the near future.
A few reflections:
1) Going back, I’d go a little earlier than the middle of March. Several times, it felt like places I was staying were in the process of shutting down for the season, and I was among very few guests, or even the only one. That’s not a problem per se, but I think it robbed me of some opportunities to meet other travellers, From what I’ve heard, the heat is also a bit less humid earlier in the year. January or February might be a better option.
2) Sri Lanka still offers amazing value, but it may not last forever. My average cost for accommodation was less than £25 per night for spacious, clean, comfortable rooms that more than served my purpose. I reckon I spent around £50 per day on ‘everything else’ which included a couple of relatively expensive activities - whale watching and a full day safari. Outside of that, I never felt like I was scrimping, eating what I wanted, drinking what I wanted (when it was available - see point 3), and doing what I wanted. If you were on a really tight budget, that number could easily come down to £25 per day.
3) Buy a bottle in duty free to bring with you. Soft drinks / mixers are very readily available, but alcohol less so. The Government run liquor stores are both sporadic in their availability, and relatively expensive. There also appears to be a ‘tourist’ tax applied by some less than squeaky clean liquor store owners, charging visitors c. 20% more than locals.
4) Take the train - it’s a fun and cheap way to travel. You can book the tickets directly on the Sri Lankan railways website 30 days before departure, and it’s very clear which class of travel you’re buying.
5) Don’t take the bus - they’re driven by lunatics, many of whom don’t have a driving licence. They’re incentivised based on the time they arrive at certain destinations, and the time set to drive between these stops is insufficient. A couple of months back, 13 were killed in an accident caused by a bus trying to make up time on a busy road. Avoid.
5) ‘Medium’ spicy is the correct answer when you’re asked how hot you’d like your food. I don’t recommend asking for hot and/or spicy unless you particularly love a burning mouth, and time on the toilet.
6) Sri Lanka people are lovely - warm, welcoming and the vast majority I’ve met have got a great sense of humour. I’ve massively enjoyed meeting so many of them, chatting about their lives and their country.
6) The country is on its knees financially. Do me a favour? When you’re paying for your very cheap meal / cheap tuk-tuk ride etc etc - be sure to tip generously.
That’s all for now folks. You can join Vicki and I for 3 weeks in Thailand from April 5th! Czytaj więcej
Day 17 - All good things must end
20 marca 2024, Irlandia Północna ⋅ ☁️ 6 °C
Day 17 - All good things must end…
08:00
Not really sure what to do with myself today. My cab to the airport is late tonight - 23:00, but I’ve booked my hotel until tomorrow so I don’t have to worry about checking out by midday. I’d originally planned to hang out at the beach, but after a squiz yesterday, I’m not sure that appeals. A quick run through Tripadvisor’s ‘Things to Do’ in the area reveals a few possibilities. Perhaps I’ll grab a bike for the day and just set off for a bit of an explore. Oooh, there’s quite a few Ayurvedic treatment centres - maybe I’ll get a full body massage…
11:30
Well that was unexpected. I have a delightfully light breakfast of a masala omelette and some dhal. Finally, a meal that doesn’t make me anxious to look at it. It’s also fantastic. The omelette has fresh chilli, tomato and coriander in it, as well as some cumin and nigella seed mixed through the eggs. The dhal is (yet) another great example. I can’t wait to get home and cook this for myself. I may even encourage Vicki to try some…
It’s already 33C though, and the ‘feels-like’ temperature is at 42C. Walking back into the air-conditioned sanctuary that is my room is a fabulous sensation. I lie down on my bed to read while I decide what to do with the rest of my day. Moments later, I wake up after the best part of 2 hours of extra sleep. I’m still gonna try for an afternoon nap to get me through to my 03:00 flight departure, but this is a great little top-up.
19:30
Been feeling a bit strange today. Slightly dodgy tum, and just kinda wiped out. Hope it’s just a passing, food-based thing rather than anything more sinister. Utterly standard that it’s come on hours before I have a long, two flight journey home.
As a result, today’s been a bit of a non-event. Popped out for a wander earlier, and grabbed some lunch. Had a bit of a nap. Just back from a quick snack for dinner. Not much to report really. Soz.
22:30
Deffo not feeling 100%. Had ANOTHER nap a while back, so think my body is just in need of rest - from what, I’m not yet sure, but I’ll listen to it.
All packed up and ready to go. I’m sad to be leaving Sri Lanka, as I’ve fallen in love with this small island nation, but I’m dead excited to be going home to see Vicki, Scout and Gizmo…
00:00
That was pretty straightforward. My cab arrives a little early, and I’m at CMB with nearly 4 hours to spare before my 02:55 flight. Happily, the Emirates check-in/bag-drop desks are already open, and by 23:30, I’m through emigration, and in the one and only bar that Colombo Airport offers. The airport’s quiet. Given there’s about 3 big planes leaving within 1/2 hour of each other, I’m a bit stumped as to where everyone is. I wander around for a while to see if I can find them, but no. I have what I realise is going to be my last Lion on Sri Lankan soil until I return with Vicki in two. Having given it such grief at the outset of my trip, I now realise I’m going to miss the little bugger. Czytaj więcej
Day 16 - The Mosquito Coast
19 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ ⛅ 28 °C
08:30
I’m awake just after 06:00. This is not entirely unintentional. My balcony overlooks the East side of Kandy, and various reviews of my guesthouse I’ve read have said the morning views are stunning. And - they are. It’s a really hazy morning. I don’t know if that’s moisture that needs to burn off, air pollution or something else - but it gives a somewhat mysterious air to the sunrise over Kandy. I can see a temple over to the East on a hilltop, the famous Kandy Lake off to the West of me, and the sprawling city laid out to the front.
I’m not particularly hungry, but conscious I won’t be in Negombo till later this afternoon, so I need to eat something. A pleasantly austere version of breakfast here, which is welcome - some fruit, some juice, an omelette and some toast. Back at my room, I sit on the balcony as the day warms up.
12:15
Another day, another would-be Ayrton Senna. I have to ask this one several times not to look at his mobile phone while he’s driving. He’s clearly finding it very distracting. We do some really exciting overtaking around blind corners, and only on some of them do we encounter a bus coming the other way. Pretty sure we wing a couple of pedestrians along the way. Yesterday’s serene meander through the mountains, this is not.
16:00
I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting from Negombo. Maybe a version of Mirissa or Tangalle. It’s like neither of these. The beach is nice enough, but there’s nothing really on it - I walk up and down, in an increasingly desperate search for a beer. There are a couple of places that look hopeful, but which transpire to be closed. There are a couple of beachfront hotels that don’t look all that hospitable. I end up in what looks like a pretty generic chain hotel, but they have cold wine, so WTF do I care?
My hotel room is another with an irritating key fob to turn the power on, so will be hot when I get back. The mountains were a blissful interlude, but it’s back up to 38C and humid. There’s at least a pleasant breeze coming off the ocean, which gives some relief.
I’ve been up since early, and after some fried rice and a couple of wines, nap is calling…
22:45
Somewhat refreshed, I head out in search of sustenance in solid and liquid forms. It’s still swelteringly hot, and by the time I reach my dinner destination, my t-shirt is damp, and sticking to me. I’m at Tuk-Tuk Wine and Dine, yet another interesting name for a restaurant. I can see no evidence of tuk-tuks, and the less said about the wine offering, the better. They do, however, serve food, so let’s see how the dine side of things stacks up.
I order the Black Pork Curry, a Sri Lankan speciality. A sizeable bowl of this curry arrives, along with a sizeable bowl of rice, a papad, and the standard rice and curry accompaniments of dhal, bean curry, curried aubergines etc etc. I’m somewhat overwhelmed. It’s delicious though. Properly hot, flavoured with curry leaves, cardamom, cinnamon and fennel seed - just brilliant.
What is less brilliant is the onslaught of mosquitoes. I’ve not been bothered by these little fuckers for the past week, and should probably have been minded that a return to the coast would see them enact their revenge. I’ve not brought out any mossie spray, obvs, so am getting eaten alive. I can feel a few insanely itchy bites coming up already. When I’ve finished as much of my food as I can manage, I call for the bill and scarper as quickly as is feasible.
Next stop is the wonderfully named Sherry Land - I shall do well here. I park up and order a glass of wine. Moments later, I feel another nibble. My guess is that as Negombo is less busy than it would be during the peak tourist season, and there are likely to be the same amount of mosquitoes, the bug to Tim ratio is far higher than it would be at other times of the year, ergo - I’m receiving special attention. Lucky, lucky me… I’ve got a bottle of red wine back at my room, so head back there to escape, cool down, and watch a movie. Czytaj więcej
Day 15 - The slowest train. Ever.
18 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ 🌙 19 °C
09:12
Last night I remembered in something of a panic that I have a 6-7 hour train journey coming up. Once again, no promise of water, food or other sustenance on the train itself, so I head out first thing to grab some supplies for the train. On the walk back up to Third Eye, my calves are burning - I can feel the hill-based hiking I did yesterday.
I sit down for breakfast, and order much less food. MUCH less. Some eggs, hoppers and fruit - that’s it. Imagine my surprise when toast, pancakes and roti turn up. I try to explain that this is not what I was after, so Dilpesh brings more toast. Sigh. I resort to showing pictures of what I’d like with a thumbs up for YES! And a thumbs down for NO…. Amazingly, this strategy works.
12:10
It’s only a 5 minute walk down to the station, and I’m there in plenty of time. The train’s due to leave at 11:10, but is sometimes a little early, sometimes a little late, and often quite significantly late. I spend an enjoyable 1/2 hour people watching, and eavesdropping on the conversation of a couple of French women, probably in their late 60s or early 70s, who are talking about me in French. They’ve heard me speak English, and obviously can’t believe I would be able to speak or understand French. One of them says nice things about my tattoos, while the other disparages them. They try to guess my age - the low end of the range is 40, the high is 50 - I will accept the average. Around 11:00, a loud bell chimes, and the stationmaster says the train is approaching. I leap up, as much as you can leap up with 25kg of backpack attached to you, and in beautifully accented French wish the two women a good day and a safe onward journey, and smile as their faces drop. The ‘train approaching’ is something of an untruth. The train may well be within a few kilometres, but at the speed it moves, it’s still ten minutes out. It pulls into the station on time, and there’s a mad rush to board. I’m in the Observation Car at the very back of the train. There are plenty of free seats. Mine is in the very first row (or last row, depending on how you look at it), and my view out of the back window of the train is uninterrupted.
The views from the train are incredible. More of the same scenery I’ve come to love around Ella - high, sweeping hills, countless tea plantations, deep ravines and valleys, kids playing football on a sandy school pitch, lots of waving people as the train trundles past. I may have done the train a disservice yesterday. 120km is the flying crow distance. The track distance is a hefty 154km. My train is due into Peradeniya at 17:17, so that’s… <MATHS> an average speed of 25 kmh. I find myself wondering whether the train actually goes faster than this, and perhaps stops for extended periods of time at some of the stops. I use a speedometer app on my phone to check. Yup - the top speed we hit is 37 kmh, and that’s on one of the very few straight sections of the railway. An average of 25 kmh is highly believable.
13:59
We’ve been sat at Ambewela station for over half an hour. Most of the track is single gauge, except for some of the stations. There’s another train heading towards , and limited places where trains can pass each other - Ambewela being one of them. Unhappily, the train coming the other way is late, and we have to sit here waiting for it to pass before we can continue. When the other train finally pulls into the station, no one even apologises. It’s an outrage.
14:52
We are 40 minutes late going through Great Western - which feels highly appropriate.
16:34
All told, we’re close to an hour late now, and I doubt I”ll get to my hotel much (if at all) before 19:00. Hadn’t planned on seeing all that much of Kandy - which is just as well. I may have time for a quick wander tomorrow morning before I head on to Negombo.
At one point earlier, we were at 1,900m above sea level, and there was a lovely freshness in the air. We’ve come down significantly from there, and it’s getting demonstrably warmer. I deliberately chose a non air-conditioned carriage for this journey, so I could do the whole open window / photo thing. It does mean that carriage is starting to get rather warm though…
19:30
Finally got into Peradeniya, 10km from Kandy around 18:15, so pretty much bang on an hour late. So yeah - not the quickest train journey in the world, but definitely one of the most beautiful I’ve been on. A quick 20 minute cab ride later, and I’m dropped at The Hills - a new (ish) hotel on a hillside overlooking Kandy. I’m told the views from here are spectacular, but that’ll have to wait till morning. I’m hungry, having not eaten anything substantive since breakfast - but first things first, I’m in dire need of a G+T.
22:00
G+T denied! I get the distinct sense that this place is in the slow process of closing down for the off season. At a few places I’ve stayed, I’ve felt like I’ve been the only guest, or one of very few, and here is no different. I do see another couple grabbing some dinner, but there are only two out of eight tables laid. When I ask after a G+T, I’m told there is no tonic. When I ask after some wine, I’m told they’re out. Lion it is in then. To be fair, it’s ultra cold, and does the job.
Similar story when it comes to dinner. When I ask for a prawn curry, I’m told no prawns. When I ask for a vegetable curry, I’m told no curry. I think basically anything that would normally be cooked in a batch for multiple guests, they’re not offering as they won’t sell enough of it. Fair enough I guess, but it means half the menu is unavailable. I end up with some chicken fried rice, which is pretty average. I ask for a bottle of water three times. My request is ignored the first two times, and I’m then offered ‘filtered’ water. I decline, and ask for mineral water with a sealed lid. They don’t have any. I hear the sound of a motorbike starting up, and five minutes later it returns. Two minutes after that, a bottle of mineral water appears. Magic!
It’s a shame that this side of the hotel offering lets them down, as my room is spectacular. Huge space, with possibly the biggest walk-in shower I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’ll have more luck with breakfast…
By the time I’ve eaten, it’s gone 21:00, and I don’t have the energy to head out down the hill into downtown Kandy. I grab another beer to take back to my room, and settle down with my book. Czytaj więcej
Day 14 - I have located the ouch
17 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ 🌙 18 °C
09:15
I’m awake at 07:30, and more than ready for breakfast at 09:00. Dilpesh brings me a plate of fruit and some coffee. So far so good. He then asks how I’d like my eggs cooked - fried or scrambled. Not a problem. He then returns with six plates - eggs, hoppers, roti, toast, butter + jam, pancakes… It’s a little overwhelming. I half expect him to return with bowls of curry, but happily he’s done. After eating what I can of that mountain, so am I.
11:30
I don’t think I’d quite realised, and please do take the opportunity to laugh at me etc etc, that the hill country in Sri Lanka would be quite so, well - hilly. After I’ve picked up my scooter, my first port of call is Nine Arches Bridge the insta-famous railway bridge a few clicks to the North of Ella. Following some fairly sketchy directions, I leave my bike up at the roadside, and start to hike down towards the bridge. I’m conscious that the people coming the other way are red-faced, sweaty, and panting. This can’t be good. There are some properly steep sections of path, and then around 400 deep steps to make my way down. I still can’t see the bastard bridge. According to Google Maps, it was only 1km from my bike to the bridge, and I think most of them are a vertical drop.
Finally, FINALLY I make it to the bridge. It’s a pretty surreal experience, as people just casually walk across from one side to the other. There are only about 6 or 7 trains that cross here per day, so there’s (hopefully) fairly little chance of them being mown down, As per yesterday, the train moves so slowly that I suspect someone with the energetic vigour of youth could probably outrun it. I get a little anxious when I see people hanging their legs off the side of the bridge - there’s a sheer drop of 20m either side. One mother decides to place her baby on the bridge wall to take a picture of it, and I tut rather less than silently.
It’s around 10:15 - a train was due through at 09:30, and there’s not another due for an hour, so I decide to start the gruelling climb back up to my bike. I make it not very far when I hear a train approaching. The 09:30 is apparently the 10:30 today. Looking back down, I can’t see anyone in danger of getting run down. Equally, I can’t see under the train’s wheels to see if perhaps some folks already have been.
Continuing my climb, I reach the steps section of the course. Getting up these is something of a struggle. Whilst it’s cooler here in Ella, it’s still hot, and I’m steaming. The steps negotiated, I move onto the steepest hill I think I’ve ever climbed. It’s brutal. I keep making slow progress, and the road flattens out. Briefly. By the time I finally make it back to the road, my Garmin reckons I’ve climbed the equivalent of 45 flights of stairs. I catch my breath and head up the road to 98 Acres.
98 Acres is a plush hotel that sits surrounded by tea plantations. A little out of my price range for accommodation, but I can stretch to a cup of tea. I park up, and am directed up some stairs to reach the restaurant/bar. MORE FUCKING STEPS. The views at the top are worth it though. Just beautiful. I have a cup of Orange Pekoe (nope? New to me, too…) and a very cold bottle of water, and Get back on the road.
13:45
I am in Cafe One Love - a restaurant and bar dedicated to Bob Marley, to the extent that they play 4 of The Wailers’ tracks on repeat. Still, the views from the third floor balcony are very pretty. The rest of my morning consisted of walking to the viewpoint of Little Adam’s Peak, and then riding down to the Ravenna Waterfall, 10km South of Ella. I also make it *some* of the way up Ella Rock - again, to stunning views. I think Ella is one of the most very beautiful places I’ve ever been - up there with the Franschhoek Valley, the top of Le Fornet in Val D’Isere on a crystal clear day, and Yosemite National Park. By 13:00, I’m knackered, and would commit crime to secure myself a cold beer.
On a slight downer, my cookery class this afternoon has been cancelled. I’ve been picking up recipes as I go from chefs at various places I’ve eaten, so have at least got some options for recreating the amazing Sri Lankan dishes I’ve tried while I’ve been here.
I can feel a nap coming on…
17:00
YES! Cracking little snooze. I decamp to the balcony to wake up with a G+T as the sun starts to hit the horizon in the distance. I don’t have much of a plan for this evening. Few beers, bite to eat etc etc. Ella’s a very easy place to spend time, and the prospect of an evening of doing not very much at all is a pretty damn good one.
21:49
I barhop. There are a few different bars in Ella that have a happy hour. I’m used to Happy Hours in the likes of Vegas, where it makes drinking just about affordable. Here in Sri Lanka, it takes drinks from thoroughly affordable to practically free. I have an Arrack cocktail for £1, a beer for less than that, and a glass of passable white wine for somewhere in between.
The booze helps stimulate my appetite. I’m just round the corner from Cafe Samsara, very well reviewed little joint just off the main street in Ella. It’s small - maybe 5 tables and 15 covers. The menu’s pretty brief - lamprais (literally lump rice, served with a couple of meat/fish curries) or rice and curry, vegetarian this time around. I go for the rice and curry, and it’s brilliant. A great dhal, a beetroot curry, some spiced and braised pumpkin, a potato curry and some great curried aubergine. Just banging. The bill, including a Lion is less than £4.
I head back to One Love for a post-prandial. I can’t quite face the walk back up to Third Eye just yet. Back at One Love, there’s the pungent smell of weed in the air. It’s a comforting smell, even if I don’t particularly want to smoke any at the moment. A couple of beers slip down incredibly easily. I’m close to ordering a third, but remember I have an 8 hour train journey tomorrow.
Back at my room, I make a half-arsed attempt at packing. What’s particularly impressive, is that there’s not really anything to pack. I abandon this plan before it becomes foolhardy.
I suspect the gin in the fridge will leak during transit. Happily, there’s a solution for that.
23:30
Gin!
I take a second swing at packing, and it goes much better. It’s mid-afternoon back home, and Vicks suggests a call. It’s amazing to hear her voice, even if it’s a bit croaky. Vicks has been struggling with a cold all week, and has foregone her weekend plans of fun as a result. We sort of agreed that while I’m away, an actual call once a week or thereabouts would be cool. Given that when we’re both in the UK, we speak on the phone about once annually, this is markedly different. It’s incredibly welcome, and I'm incredibly excited to see her in a few days.
I found myself thinking earlier about the emotional reaction to the end of an amazing trip. Obviously, I don't have the 'back to work' blues that I've experienced so often in the past. What I do have is a combination of sadness that my journey is ending, with excitement that I get to see my beloved wife, I get to see my baby bundles of ginger, and that our trip to Thailand is only a couple of weeks away... Czytaj więcej
Day 13 - The Hills are Alive...
16 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ 🌙 19 °C
09:00
Sri Lanka is in the midst of (coming towards the end of, hopefully) an horrific financial crisis. Doubtless COVID had a part to play, but for me, much of the blame rests with the previous President, Gotabaya Rajapaksa.
This guy sunk billions into vanity projects that make white elephants look like good value. There’s the international airport about 50km from where I sitting writing this, that attracted 4 airlines initially, but which has not been used in 3 years. There’s the deepwater cargo port on the South coast, which completely ignored that Colombo has one of the busiest deepwater cargo ports in South East Asia. There’s the enforced switch to organic farming in 2021, without giving local farmers any guidance or training to switch to these new techniques, leading to a crippling failure of the crops in both 2022 and 2023, requiring huge outlays to import basic fundamentals like rice and grain. Honestly, the guy’s a fuckwit.
And then - his crowning glory. HUGE tax cuts in 2019 - abolishing income tax for more than 1/3 of the Sri Lankan population, reducing VAT from 15% to 8%, and the abolition of the 2% ‘Nation Building’ tax that paid for nationwide infrastructure improvements. Are you listening, Jeremy Hunt? Honestly, this guy makes Liz Truss look, well - a little bit less of a lettuce.
As a result, Sri Lanka’s inflation rate has been insanely high for the past few years. We, in the UK, feel like double digit inflation has been painful, and rightly so. Sri Lanka’s inflation rate peaked at 70% in 2022, and has since come back to something slightly more manageable at 11%. The average across the past two years is 45%.
The result has been that prices have comfortably doubled over a 4 year period. Sri Lanka still represents great value for a Brit traveller, but that is changing. If the inflation rate doesn’t come back under control, it won’t take long for the prices to feel a lot higher, and for the local population to be incapable of paying for basic needs like housing, food and energy.
I mention it this morning because I had a long conversation with Mohamed, the manager of Smoky Kitchen, a great little restaurant in the North of Tissa, where I ate last night. My rice and curry here is just about the best version of this staple that I’ve had in Sri Lanka, and Mohamed is at pains to apologise for what he feels is the sky high cost - 1800LKR, or £4.50 to you and me. He sold this dish for 800LKR as recently as mid-2022. Mohamed tells me how difficult it’s become to provide for his family. He thinks prices are about as high as they can go before they start to dissuade tourists from visiting. I might disagree slightly, but I understand his sentiment. Mohamed is a Muslim, and he shares with me that it’s got so bad that he’s seriously considered adding alcohol to his menu, something conspicuous by its absence currently. It’s a high margin product that would lighten his financial woes, but directly contravenes his strictly held religious beliefs.
In other news, it’s moving day. I’m heading up into the hills to Ella, many peoples’ highlight of Sri Lanka. It promises to be noticeably cooler - late 20s, but without the humidity of the lowlands. Loads to see and do. Couple of hours in a cab to get past first…
12:30
This one, at least, appears to be sober. I’m not overly sad to leave Tissamaharama. The close proximity of Yala National Park aside, there’s not a huge amount to recommend it. After only fifteen minutes on the road, we’re already out into some lush green surroundings. We meander through some small villages, but most of the scenery is thoroughly rural.
After a little over an hour in the car, we start to rise into the hills. There’s some beautiful mountain scenery to look at. The slight downside is that the road becomes quite twisty and turny - like a red rag to my rally driver of a cabbie. I should have packed the gin in my daypack to allow for easy cab-based access.
13:15
Well, this is staggering. I've arrived to new accommodation, and not immediately felt the need to turn on the AC. There’s a blissfully cool breeze, and I remind myself that we’re at 1100m above sea-level. If my memory of Geography GCSE serves (it probably doesn’t) it’s a c. 1C drop in temperature for every 150m of elevation, so a good 6C cooler than the coast. Finding Third Eye was a touch tricky. My driver clearly had no idea where he was going. Google Maps tried to send us up a very steep path, but I’m wise to the little fucker’s antics after our near-death Death Valley experience of 2022. Sadly, it transpires Google Maps was right. Up the ascent we go, round a couple of very tricky hairpin corners. My rooms is up even further up the hill - another 3 or so flights of stairs. It doesn’t matter though, because the views are spectacular. Mind-blowingly, jaw-droppingly, eye-poppingly spectacular. I can see Ella Rock in the distance, the highest point in the region. I can see waterfalls rushing down the green coated hills of the valley. I can see lush, tropical trees. I can see a man picking his nose. There’s a Sri Lankan home just off to my left. Going forward, I’ll be sure to look eyes front, and to the right…
I’m sitting on my v cool and v cool balcony enjoying a beer, and trying to muster up the energy to go out and do stuff.
13:25
I have reached an executive decision. I’m sacking off my afternoon plans in favour of hanging out in, and getting to know Ella instead. I’ve got most of an empty day tomorrow, which feels like a much better option for exploring. I am getting pretty peckish though, as decided to forego breakfast earlier. Off out in search of scran and beer.
15:30
It’s fucking lush up here - BUT, it feels more like a resort town than Tissa or Tangalle, in both of which I was amongst the few white faces. In Ella, it feels like at least half the people I see are Western tourists. As a result, there’s a lot competition for the tourist dollar. As I walk down main street, I’m encouraged to try several different restaurants - “Cheap beer, I give you good price, fi’ dollar” and the like. I may have made the last one up. I end up La Mensa, and have the most amazing chicken and cheese kottu - just a big bowl of stodgy hug. About a third of the way through my food, the server asks if I would like some chilli chutney, and I say yes. The kottu’s tasty, but it’s anything but hot. What he brings back is my old friend from one of my first meals in Colombo, and I realise now how different it is to the coconut sambol I’ve been eating around the island. This is a properly fiery chilli purée, with some dried fish and fried garlic added to the mix. Lovely stuff. I have my first glass of wine in a few days, quickly followed by my second. Top lunching.
00:00
Back at Third Eye, I spend a blissful couple of hours on my balcony in the company of a G+T or two, my book, and the sounds of the hills. A train clatters past - if that makes it sound like it’s moving at pace, think again. 20 mph tops. On Monday, I’ll take the famous Ella to Kandy train, which takes around 8-9 hours. As the crow flies, it’s around 120kms. Intercity, this is not.
I’m not really hungry, so not too fussed about grabbing dinner. Having a flick around the TV channels, I find that the Six Nations games are being shown. It’s probably a bit too much to try and make the France vs England that kicks off at 01:30, but the first two games are manageable. Italy beat Wales in a scrappy game, and Ireland edge a game against Scotland that should have been far more entertaining. I briefly consider cracking open the gin, and making a night of it, but I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, so hit the hay instead. Czytaj więcej
Day 12 - Seriously? 04:30??
15 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ ⛅ 32 °C
05:30
With great safari, comes great alarm clock responsibility. Believe it or not, I’m actually awake just before my 04:30 alarm clock. Whilst my sleep is massively better than it used to be, the one thing I’ve really not mastered is the art of alarm snoozing - just grabbing another 5/10/15 minutes. Vicki does it with the style and grace of a champion. I do not.
It’s pitch black. Not a scrap of natural light. Sri Lanka is only 400 miles North of the equator, so sun up is at or around 06:00 all year round, and it happens quickly. I don my leopard pants, pack my rucksack with everything I think I’ll need, and stumble a little bleary eyed down to the hotel reception area. My driver, Jagat, is already waiting for me. Bless - he’s brought his 8 year old kid along for the ride. We set off at an alarming pace for Yala National Park. There’s apparently a real race to be first into the park. I’ve seen and experienced similar in the past, and honestly - what’s the fucking point. We stop briefly to grab tickets for park entrance, and then join a 15 jeep long queue at 05:20, 40 minutes before the gates open. Does it guarantee us a majestic wildlife experience? Does it fuck. The sun’s light is beginning to lick the horizon, hues of grey and orange mingling in the distance. A lot of safaris I’ve been on suggest bringing a fleece type affair for the early morning in case it’s cold. Here - none of that. It’s beautifully warm, but 28C at 05:00 means it’s gonna be a hot one.
14:00
We’ve stopped for lunch, after a LONG morning game drive. I’ve signed up for a full day, which is collection from hotel at 04:45, and drop-off at 19:30. That might be a bit much to be honest. I’m more used to the African safari experience, which is 2 game drives per day, each around 3 hours, with a whacking great gap between them - to sleep, to gin, to lunch; whatever you fancy. 14-15 hours on the go might just be pushing it.
Lunch is rice and curry - some very tasty chicken, some red rice, the ubiquitous dhal, and some curried aubergine. I could murder a beer, but that’s apparently verboten in the park. Unbeknownst to me, we have to stay 2 hours at the lunch stop. The park is officially closed between 12:00 and 14:00. It’s incredibly unclear to me why this is, but I decide to assume it’s so the park rangers can have lunch, a crafty arrack or two, and a little doze.
The morning’s game viewing has been great, if a little unexpected. My leopard pants do no good whatsoever. There are more than 20 leopards in Yala, but the game drives haven’t spotted any for a few days, apparently suggesting there may be some birthing going on - it’s the right time of year for it. What we do see is a fuck-ton (technical term) of elephant. Several fuck-tons in fact. It’s the first time I’ve seen Asian elephant in the wild, and it’s fantastic to see so many of them, and interacting with each other in so many different ways. We see a bit of a fight, we see two elephants kissing, we see a little baby that’s maybe 5 months old, we see an old bull that’s been ostracised from his herd to die alone - basically a month of Eastenders in a morning’s safari. What we see a TON of is birds. I’ve always been a bit snooty about birders, preferring my safari game to be a bit bigger and growlier. Here, the colours are spectacular - bright greens, blues, pinks and turquoise. They’re stunning little creatures. We see a couple of mongoose (mongeese? mongooses?), some crocs, lots of buffalo, some white spotted deer, a couple of sambar. Just before we stop for lunch, we sea an eagle having a sun-bath - a first for me. Czytaj więcej
Day 11 - There has been a gincident
14 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
08:50
There is less of the gin left this morning than is absolutely ideal.
10:00
Need to get my arse in gear. Today’s another moving day, and I’m heading inland to Tissamaharama. Prabin, the manager of Luaya Beach, seems distraught when I tell him I would like a lighter breakfast than yesterday. Some fruit and a coconut pancake should do it. He asks me several times if I’m completely sure I don’t want eggs, hoppers, curry, and looks crestfallen when I decline.
Packing is a quick and easy affair, as I’ve barely unpacked, and have lived in the same few sets of clothes for the past couple of days. This trip has been something of a revelation for realising how few clothes I can get away with packing for a long journey. The very vast majority of places to stay in Sri Lanka offer a 24 or 36 hour laundry service, and the only real limitation is how long I’m staying at a particular establishment. I’ve got a bag of laundry ready to go when I arrive into Tissamaharama, and that should just about keep me going until I head home. In a lot of ways, my Sri Lanka sojourn is serving as a dry run for the 3 1/2 weeks that Vicks and I will spend in Thailand. I can definitely go lighter on the clothes packing front, but will pack extra deodorant. I may also invest in some packing cubes, if for no other reason than it’s nice to know where in your rucksack your pants are located.
11:30
Back on Expressway 01, heading further to the East. There’s quite a bit more traffic today than Tuesday, when I arrived from Mirissa, and I’ve no idea why. I’d ask my driver, but he’s a bit drunk right now. He tries to join the Expressway up the off ramp. Not a great look when there are police manned toll gates in front of us. He effects a quick u-turn, and I suspect hopes/prays no-one saw.
There’s a very distinct hierarchy to the roads in Sri Lanka, and it dictates how different vehicles are driven. Buses / lorries are at the top, and they simply do not give a fuck about you. They’ll pull out in front of you when you’re steaming along at top whack. They’ll brake suddenly, and for no earthly reason. Hilariously, many of them do not possess functioning brake lights - something I discovered yesterday on my bike trip around Tangalle.
Car drivers are a little more sensitive to their surroundings, but not a huge amount. The level of spatial awareness on display is laughable. They will overtake a slow moving bike/tuk-tuk/car/truck at a moment’s notice, without indicating, and without materially accelerating, and they’ll expect anything coming the other way to slow down and/or take evasive action.
Next are tuk-tuks, which are typically driven like they’ve been stolen. Tuk-tuks are basically a wedge shape, narrower at the front than the back, where the passenger(s) sit. Tuk-tuk drivers do not seem to understand this, and it’s quite an experience when your chariot is heading towards a narrow gap that the driver thinks is wide enough based on where he’s sitting in the vehicle.
Then we’ve got bikes/scooters, which are expected to make way for any other vehicle on the road, whilst also moving fast enough to keep up with other traffic - fine around town, but starts to get a little more challenging out in the countryside.
And last, and by all means least, pedestrians. You do not matter, you are invisible, you will cause little to no harm to any vehicle that mows you down. There are pedestrian crossings all over Sri Lanka, but their use requires some practice and a dollop of bravado. You need to start walking across while the traffic is still bearing down on you, and hold out your hand to indicate that you’ve seen them, you know they’re there, and you’re crossing anyway. It takes me a few goes to get it right, mainly by copying other folks, but once you get the hang of it, it gets marginally less terrifying.
13:20
I *think* I might be the only guest at my hotel. Certainly can’t see/hear any other guests. Perhaps they’re all out on safari at the mo. I’m staying in downtown Tissamaharama, as much of any of it can be classed as downtown. There’s a 2km stretch of road, with buildings either side of it. I’ve yet to see any more than this. I unpack a little, and get my stuff ready for tomorrow morning’s 04:30 alarm call. I discover a pair of my boxers have leopards on them, so I’ll wear these in the hope that they’ll bring luck on my safari.
I’m getting a bit peckish. Off for an explore, and definitely a beer…
18:00
It’s feckin hot. Weather app reckons it feels 38-39C, and I can’t argue with them. I walk maybe 500m up the road, and am dripping with sweat. I’m not too fussed. You just have to learn to live with it, if not necessarily like it. I order the largest/coldest Lion they have. It does not disappoint. After spending a few days trying to find a suitable Lion alternative in Mirissa, I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is it - you want cold and refreshing? It’s gonna be a Lion. A few places serve gin, arrack, wine etc - but they’re actually pretty few and far between. Certainly out here in the sticks, it’s beer or a soft drink.
Lunch is a stir-fried rice dish - Mongolian rice, which apparently is a local speciality? Tons of seafood in it, and really quite hot with chilli powder. It’s bloody lovely though. It’s about 14:30, and I’m considering a nap. Getting back to the hotel, I spy a pool out in the garden - result! I bound upstairs to change, and then bound downstairs to the pool area. I disrobe (apart from my board shorts, obvs) with gay abandon, and jump in. Weird. The water is either quite warm, or quite cool. There are hot spots and cool zones. I manage to find one of the cooler areas and lurk for a while…
I air dry for a while, listening to the sounds of… what? I’m not really sure. Rural Sri Lankan life I guess. Occasional beeps from cars, trucks and tuk-tuks on the road, lots of bird song and squawks, the occasional sound of men noisily clearing their sinuses - that sorta stuff.
Back in my room, I have a cold shower, and lament the lack of a fridge, as a G+T would go down brilliantly right about now. The A/C across the hotel was being fixed earlier, but it’s running at full whack now, and I spend a delightfully cool 1/2 hour reading my book as I air-dry.
22:00
There were a couple of places I’d tagged in Tissa as good for lunch or dinner, and one is just a few minutes walk around the corner from me - Royal Restaurant. It’s pretty full, both with diners at tables, and with folks waiting to collect takeaway orders, and I take this as a good sign. I’m seated right next to a Buddha statue, that endearingly (at first) and irritatingly (ultimately) emits some Buddhist chanting throughout my dining experience.
From the menu, I ask the server about his favourite, traditional Sri Lankan dishes, and he points me to Black Pepper Chicken, so I order it. He asks how spicy I want it, and I ask for medium, but Sri Lankan medium, not tourist medium. He looks a little confused, but nods anyway. I’m not sure how well my request was translated, but what I get is a delicious and properly hot curry. I had wondered whether it would be similar to the Pepper Chicken Masala curry that I learnt to cook when I was in Kerala, and there are some obvious shared traits. They both have chicken, and they both have a lot of black pepper. There things start to diverge. The Sri Lankan dish has cinnamon, cardamom and a handful of fresh curry leaves, where the Keralan version focused on fennel seed, cumin and coriander. It’s also got some sweet capsicum in it - similar to the yellow bell peppers I’d get in the UK. There’s also an unmistakable flavour of soy sauce, and the heat has been tempered with some coconut milk. There’s something a little sour in the background - I’m going to guess tamarind. It’s banging. Served with the plainest of steamed rice, it’s one of the best things I’ve eaten on the island, and something I’ll definitely look to recreate at home.
Back at Serenity Tissa, the place remains deserted. I thought I saw some other guests a little earlier, but they were apparently having a look around to see if they wanted to stay here. They declined. I’m yet to see evidence of any other guests. By that token, I think the hotel staff outnumber me by a factor of 5 to 1. I’m not really tired, but I’m very conscious my alarm is going off at 04:25. Yikes. Czytaj więcej
Day 10 - Easy, rider
13 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
09:40
Ok, interesting. I slept until nearly 08:00 this morning. I think my sleeping frailties at Mirissa were probably the result of noise - not just the beach parties, but also the morning chorus of cockerels, peacocks and dogs. Here in Tangalle, there’s no noise. It’s so utterly quiet, and I’m pretty sure this is what lets me sleep through, and sleep until such a relatively late time.
It looks like a stunning day, so plonk myself in Luaya’s lush garden. I can feel the sun warming up already, the heat starting to prickle on my skin. Around 08:30, the guys running Luaya bring me a Sri Lankan breakfast. I’m not kidding when I say that it arrives in about 7 stages. Massive pot of freshly brewed coffee, the best I’ve had since I arrived in Sri Lanka; a plate of hoppers - waffer theen pancakes filled with a fried egg; a bowl each of dhal, potato curry, and coconut sambol; a plate of string hoppers - noodles made of a pancake dough; a plate of fresh fruit; a coconut pancake with a set yoghurt; a glass of pineapple juice. It’s comfortably enough to feed 2. I’m stuck in that typically British mentality, where if you took / are served the food, then you’re supposed to finish it. That was the rule in my house growing up, at any rate. I reason that the banana can at least be served to someone else, and the yoghurt is in a pot with a lid, so can be reused. I’m so overwhelmed by the amount of food that I barely notice how amazing it tastes. I have GOT to get a recipe for Sri Lankan dhal while I’m here.
Plan today is to rent a bike, and head out for a bit of an explore of the areas surrounding Tangalle. Might need a quick nap first after that hefty breakfast…
16:30
Awesome fun.
Pitching up at the bike rental shop, the owner takes one look at me, and decides I need a big chopper type affair. I point at one of the scooters - it’s been nearly 20 years since I rode a proper motorbike, and I don’t feel like the roads of Sri Lanka are the place for me to get reacquainted. He insists. I insist. Some insisting happens. He finally gives in, and allows me to rent what I came here wanting to rent.
I need to run a few errands in town. I feel like today is the day I might finally be able to buy a bottle of gin to carry on the rest of my journey. I’m also close to running out of deodorant, as a consequence of taking so many cold showers to remain cool. Time to re-up on some cash as well. I manage to find the bottle shop easily enough. You don’t actually go into a shop. There’s a cashier behind armoured glass who gets what you ask for - a little like a petrol station in the UK after-hours. Success though! There’s a local gin called Rockland that I’ve been drinking out, and it’s pretty good. I grab a few beers as well - just because. At the supermarket, the only deodorant options are Axe style body sprays. Hmmm, I’ll leave it thanks. I try a pharmacy, and then another supermarket. Turns out the only option on the entire island by way of anti-perspirant is a roll on. Don’t think I’ve used one of those for 30 years? Still - it’ll do a job…
I drop my groceries back to my room, and head out for an explore - firstly to the East, where I find a bar called The Lounge that is only accessible by boat. They claim to have an uninterrupted view of the sunset, so I decide to come back later for beers and dinner. Back through town, and towards the west, I stop at Coco, where Rach and Whiskas stayed, and enjoy a pretty decent glass of wine. I push further on, around 10km outside of Tangalle, and come across a tiny little restaurant just off the beach - which one, I really couldn’t say. They make me a great cheese and egg rotti, and provide me with the very coldest of beers.
Getting back on my bike, the seat is on fire. The scooter’s been parked in the sun, and the vinyl seat is properly hot. I head back through Tangalle, and out towards my guesthouse. I ride past a little beach bar called Watergate Bay, one of my favourite places in Cornwall, and I reason that it would rude / foolish not to stop for a beer. A couple a few tables away from me are getting a bit flustered because the bar is cash only, and they don’t have enough to cover their bill. I ask how much they need, and it’s only a couple of thousand rupees, so I pay it forward.
Around 16:00, I drop the bike back, and walk back to my guesthouse. It’s stinking hot, and all I can think of is a cold shower, and then a cooldown/read under the air-conditioning, perhaps accompanied by a G+T…
19:00
Well that was a bit of a damp squib. I’ve read about a beach bar a couple of kilometres from me, right down at the far end of Tangalle Beach. It can only be reached by boat, and is supposed to have the best views of sunset in all of Tangalle. Sounds right up my strasse. I jump in a tuk-tuk, arrive at the side of an estuary, and see a sign directing me to ring the bell to summon ‘The Pirate’ (I’m not kidding). This all sounds very jolly fun, so I ring the bell, and - nothing. I ring the bell again. And again. And again. After a couple of minutes of looking like a prize potato, someone emerges from the bar and waves at me. I wave back. I’m polite, of course. He waves again. I think this could go on for some time, but wave back anyway. He waves in such a way as to make me thing he’s not waving. I shout across the river, asking if they’re closed. He nods. Fucksticks.
Somewhat deflated, I start walking back to the centre of Tangalle Beach. There are, at least, a few beach bars along the way. I decide to have a sort of mini bar-crawl (NB - not a mini-bar crawl) on the way back - as some form of ill-informed and possibly ill-advised protest. Three bars in, and I find myself at a bar whose name I do not know, drinking impossibly cold bottles of Lion - one of which actually freezes in my glass to form the coolest possible kind of slushie. I stay for 3 - spending most of my time gazing absentmindedly out across the water.
I’ve been dreaming about dead people recently. Not in a Sixth Sense kind of way - but just conscious my subconscious is thinking about people I’ve lost along the way. Both my Mum and Dad have featured heavily recently, which is perhaps no surprise. My good friend Ailsa, who died from breast cancer in 2023 is also in there. Even my old and dear friend, Phillip, who died nearly 30 years ago. These aren’t unpleasant dreams - I’m not waking up in an anxious cold sweat. I’m just aware that my brain is wanting to think about them all in some way, shape or form. As a result, I spend a happy hour with beer, reminiscing, reflecting and remembering.
The water is even rougher today than yesterday. Some of the waves are so powerful that I feel a little worried for a couple of folks who are swimming amongst it. I get chatting to one of the bar guys. Pretty unsurprisingly, he ends up offering me some smoke. Is it my face? Suddenly conscious that the beer is making me hungry.
21:45
Walking back towards my guesthouse, none of the restaurants were grabbing me. I made it as far as Let’s Sea, and decided to pop in again. I’m welcomed like some kind of prodigal son, but without the biblical implications. This evening’s prime catch is seer fish - a close relative of king fish, which Vicks and I have eaten so happily in Goa, and kissing cousin to our own mackerel. It’s got a more robust flavour than the white snapper I ate last night, so is prepared with a sauce of deeper flavour - lots of cumin, curry leaves and some fennel seed. It’s breathtakingly good - the fish has such a firm, meaty texture. The guys at Let’s Sea throw in some big grilled prawns for me as well. My bill doesn’t come close to a tenner.
The temperature’s still up close to 30C. The gin in my minibar fridge is calling to me, and I might just throw on a movie tonight to wile away the time… Czytaj więcej
Day 9 - Mirissa to Tangalle
12 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ 🌙 27 °C
FFS. Awake again by 05:30. I’ve no excuse this time. I’d always blamed my shit sleeping on stress and strain, but I have none, and still… I at least know I can nap later to catch up a bit if needs be. It’s moving day - I’m heading down the coast to Tangalle, which is an hour or so. Heat and humidity are back up today, so think I’ll probably jump in a Tuk-Tuk or cab, rather than take the bus. A cab works out to around 100 rupees per kilometre, perhaps 25p, Feels like decent value to have an AC car for the journey.
Packing is pretty straightforward. I’ve not really unpacked, so little to shove back into my rucksack. The biggest logistical challenge is working out what to do with my sandy board shorts and flip-flops. I’ve got a carrier bag, so bung them in their, and attach it to my rucksack.
I need to grab something to eat before ordering a cab. I’ve not felt like eating breakfast out here so far. Couple of cups of coffee, and maybe a fruit juice has been easily getting me through to an early (ish) lunch. Today is no different, and I’m heading back to Mila on the main road. It’s a c 10 min walk with 25kg of backpack, and I’m building up quite the head of steam by the time I get there. The guys at the restaurant recognise a man in need, and bring me a Lion within seconds of my arrival.
15:00
Lunch at Mila was great. A simple prawn Kottu, and some chicken kebabs. The journey over was a breeze. My driver, Nishan, actually lives in Tangalle, and comes from Tissamaharama, my next stop. He gives me his card, and says he’ll undercut Uber by 15% if I contact him directly, as Uber take 30% of everything he earns in his cab. Sounds like a fair deal to me. The journey from Tissamaharama to Ella particularly will be a ball-ache, as it needs 3 separate buses, and would take around 7 hours. A direct cab will be more like 2 hours. Probably won’t be cheap, but already feels like good value. His cab feels sturdy, and he’s a rarity amongst drivers here - sensibly cautious. It’s also blissfully cool. I feel like he and I shall be friends.
The scenery on the drive over reminds me very much of Kerala. It’s beautifully lush and verdant. There are countless rice paddies bordering the road, and more than a few rivers and streams as we pass by. Much of the distance of the journey (if not the time) is spent on a highway - Expressway 01. It’s a lot less busy than the expressway from Colombo airport into the city centre (thankfully). Sri Lanka’s tourism industry has been booming in recent years, and has recovered from the pandemic particularly quickly. It’s easily seen that there has been and continues to be investment to attract travellers. Expressway 01 is the first (obvs) of 9 planned highways, all due for completion by the end of 2024. There are many other facilities that make the traveller’s life that much easier. When I first travelled around India, none of the places I had offered Wifi. To be fair, my phone at the time wasn’t exactly built for high speed internet. Roaming wasn’t a thing - any and all calls, texts from the UK were wickedly expensive. If you wanted to find somewhere to stay, you arrived there and asked if there was space. Certainly, the availability of sites like booking.com and Agoda has made finding accommodation much less fraught. I’ve talked before about my desire to be less constrained on the various journeys I’m taking during my sabbatical. I have a sneaking suspicion that whilst I’m really enjoying having next to no plan, subconsciously I’m aware that I can source transport and accommodation pretty quickly and easily.
Arriving into Tangalle, my room is ready for me. It’s a step up from Sajana Ocean Hill, which whilst clean and functional was pretty basic. Luaya Beach has a few more creature comforts - a minibar with soft drinks and beer in it, a table and desk, some shelves, a coffee station. My max stay for the rest of my trip is 2 nights, so I’m not unpacking as I go. I arrange a few things on the shelves to show willing, and head out to explore Tangalle.
18:30
The coastline in Tangalle is much wilder than Mirissa. The surf right at the water’s edge is messy and strong. Not particularly conducive to swimming. The beach is much more basic as well. There are still beach bars dotted along it, but they’re a much lower tech version of their equivalents in Mirissa - none the worse for it, but markedly different. There’s a strong wind blowing off the sea, which is keeping the temperature in check. At 16:00, walking around is just a pleasantly warm sensation, rather than the stifling heat to which I’ve grown accustomed. I stop for a beer at one of the beach bars. I’m one of perhaps 10 customers. The pace of life here is much slower and laid back.
Walking back to Luaya Beach, I browse a few restaurants for dinner later. One in particular jumps out - called Let’s Sea. There’s already a strong smell of garlic, butter and grilled fish emanating from the kitchen. This must be a good sign.
23:00.
Dinner was a cracker. I had a whole, grilled white snapper, with some grilled prawns, and baby calamari, and in a lightly spiced sauce. It’s accompanied by some plain rice, but also with a cabbage salad/slaw type thing, which has some pineapple running through it. I’m not always a fan of sweet and savoury together, but this is brilliant. The restaurant is full. Given how few people I saw on the beach earlier, I assume that’s because this is one of the best places for seafood, and thus very popular locally. Dinner costs a princely £12, including a couple of monster bottles of Lion.
I briefly consider a nightcap at one of the bars along the walk back to my guesthouse, but honestly, I’m not sure I have the energy or will. Look, it’s been a tough day, alright? Czytaj więcej
Day 8 - Pheest of Phishes
11 marca 2024, Sri Lanka ⋅ ⛅ 27 °C
08:00
Once again, awake earlier than I’d like. I also woke up a fair bit during the night. Unsure if due to the very loud but shit music at the beach party. At one point I was woken up by some bastardised remix of Michael Jackson. Not cool. I grab a pot of coffee from the guys downstairs, and repair to my hammock for a read, and maybe a doze.
13:00
It’s another stunning day in Mirissa, and I head for a walk down the beach. The water’s a little calmer than yesterday, but the breeze is still doing great things. I stop to say hi to Robin and Philippe, and wave hi to Leon as I pass Surf Bar. It’s not *quite* beer o’clock yet, so resist the urge to settle down in the shade for a sharpener. I’m heading for the sensationally named No 1 Dewmini Roti Shop, a 15 min walk at the other end of town. It’s pretty tough going in the, heat, and the restaurant is unlicensed, so I know ahead of time I’m not getting a reward beer on arrival. I find the roti shop down a little track. It’s bang on midday, and it’s already getting full. I grab one of the last tables, and ask for their biggest/coldest bottle of water. Roti in this form is unleavened bread, very similar to a paratha, or a chapatti, which is rolled into a square, stuffed with various fillings, then fried on a plancha or grill-plate until hot and crispy - very traditionally Sri Lankan. Mine is stuffed with prawns, vegetables and a local cheese, and served with a dhal, some pickled red chillies and a spicy ‘gravy.’ It’s banging. With the gravy and minced chillies, it’s properly hot too. By the end, my nose is streaming, in a very good way. There’s nothing particularly complex about it - but it’s just brilliant snack/brunch type food, and a snip at £2. I’m done by 12:30, and wander down to the beach to let my food settle, and to have the reward beer that I’m thoroughly overdue.
17:00
I’m coming towards the end of my time in Mirissa, and find myself reflecting on my time here. I think the best gauge of enjoyment of a travel destination is whether you’d return - and I absolutely would. I’d certainly be more mindful of soundproofing (!) but if you stay in a party town, you really ought to expect to some late night music, no? There’s a great selection of restaurants and bars, and the beach is just something else - one of my very favourites. There’s a very laid back vibe, and I’ve found it very easy to do next-to-nothing while I’ve been here, and that’s my kinda place. Most of all, I’m excited to bring Vicks here, as I think she’d love it.
As I’m typing this, there’s something of a kerfuffle. It transpires one of the sons of the family that run Sajana has been out on the lash this afternoon. Fair play, given it’s only about 16:30. His elder brother walks him up the slope to the house and throws him (not kidding…) to the ground in disgust. I’m sort of worried that he’s laid out flat on his back, and could choke on his vomit. Happily, when the time comes, he’s capable of rolling over to spew from a sideways position. The eldest brother gets home, picks up a rubber hosepipe, and starts beating him where he lays. It’s pretty uncomfortable to watch actually, but I’m very conscious it’s none of my fucking business.
So - last evening in Mirissa, and wondering what to do with myself. Kinda hoping there’s no beach party tonight so that:
a) I’m not tempted, and
b) I can have a good night’s sleep.
19:00
I’ve come down to Oh La La for Happy Hour, and to say goodbye to my friends. Srinath plies me with gins and tonic, and gives me an Arrack to try. I’ve seen this on menus, but avoided, placing it firmly in the ‘feni’ category of disgusting moonshine type alcohols. How wrong am I. The drink Srinath gives me straddles a line somewhere between golden rum and brandy - some fruit and vanilla flavours, and a smooth finish. Delicious straight, with perhaps just a piece of ice in it.
23:00
I take a wander down the beach looking for a restaurant called W&D that Robin has recommended as the best place (other than his etc etc) for fresh fish. Initially, I walk straight past it, but finally manage to locate it between a couple of others that I’ve visited for beers while I’ve been here. I’m greeted by Roshan (who later tells me to call him Roshi), who excitedly shows me the market stall style fish display. There’s some fish here I recognise, and some I definitely don’t. It all looks and smells beautifully fresh. Roshi tells me it’s all come from today’s catch. I mean, he would say that, but my eyes and nose tell a similar story. I pick out a giant prawn, and a small bass, order some drinks and sit down to wait. We’re right down at the shoreline, and the sensation of sand between the toes during dinner is a fabulous one. There’s a strip of restaurants all doing broadly similar things along this part of the beach. It’s a highly competitive environment, and none of them would survive for long if they were doing a decent job of it.
I sit back contentedly, and people watch. Near me, there’s confusion as an American lady doesn’t understand how to get into her lobster. I suspect she’s been used to being served shelled shellfish. She’s given an impromptu lesson into how to crack the shell, gently break the claws. Roshi is bounding up and down the beach, excitedly trying to lure diners into his restaurant. He has a mixed success rate.
My food arrives, and it is stellar. The prawn is, I think, the best I’ve ever eaten. When they’re done this well, and are this size, I think they’re better than lobster. The bass is also great. It’s a little different to the European seabass we’re used to eating at home, but I’m not sure what specific species it is. It’s slightly firmer fleshed than European seabags, and has a richer flavour. Mine’s been lightly spiced, and is served with a garlic chilli butter. Ball-bustingly good, and I say so to Roshi when he clears my plate. He asks if I’d mind leaving a Google review, which I agree to. I quickly knock out a review while he’s busy with other customers. When he gets a notification about the newly posted review, he rushes over to shake my hand, and to offer me drinks on the house. Is this what it’s like to be an influencer?
Walking back to my guesthouse, I’m conscious there is a downside to sitting at the water’s edge. I have been mullered by mossies. I can feel itchy bites all over my feet and legs. I’m an idiot. I’ve got an unopened can of Jungle Juice in my room. I’ve not felt the need to use it thus far, and just didn’t occur to me that being on the beach after dark would risk the mauling I’ve had.
Back at my room, there’s a faint sound of some loud music. I think there’s a smaller, more circumspect party at the far end of the beach. It’s certainly not loud enough to stop me from quickly falling into a deeeeeeep sleep. Czytaj więcej
Tim's TravelsInteresting - so you're a pics first, prose second kinda gal...
Odbierz swój własny profil podróży
Bezpłatne
