Sunday, 30 December 2012

TRAVEL: SOUTHEAST ASIA 10 - TRANG







27/12/02: Leave for Surat Thani, book back into same hotel as before, eat at MPA Café; early night.


It was strange going back to Surat Thani with only my partner for company. We had assumed that S would still be with us at this juncture, and that even M and E might have tagged along for a little while longer. Then when J and H had made their second showing, I thought we’d have a crew of some shape or size for a good couple of weeks yet.
In fact, M and E were travelling in a different direction and were at least a week ahead of our schedule. J and H, on the other hand, were seasoned travellers, making it up as they went along, and it was not impossible that we could meet again. But S’s departure was a surprise, albeit one whose possibility had revealed itself gradually over the course of the last two weeks. He was supposed to have been with us for at least three months, but had now decided, for whatever reason(s), to cut his trip short. (S would spend a little more time in Samui – in Chaweng of all places – before flying back to Bangkok where he would spend a couple of days on the Khao San Road, waiting for an early flight to materialise and take him home.)
My residual anxiety had subsided on the islands, but back on the mainland I could sense it creeping back. Surat Thani seemed a rather miserable place that night, although the meal we had at MPA café, an establishment with decor stuck in the 1950s, did me good. I was looking forward to getting to Trang, away from the hordes and to somewhere with a more sedate pace of life, but not so much as to give me the creeps. Because, to me, Thailand was beginning to feel like it was haunted. I had not entertained the idea that entire countries could be haunted, let alone cities or towns, but this was the only way I could explain away the eeriness I detected here, when I wasn’t surrounded by people or hanging out in bars. Maybe it was some of those rooms we’d rented, or the lack of people in a few of those urban conurbations we’d visited.

The coach station at Surat Thani is a case in point: noisy but not busy, dirty but not untidy, unfriendly but not outwardly hostile. You're never left feeling re-assured that you’re in the right place in Thailand. I think I’m stood in the right place and I think that’s our coach over there, but I can't be sure. Trang should only be a few hours away, but what if we end up taking some scenic route? What then? What will we do if it is dark and we are dropped off along some spectre-bothered highway, with nothing but wild dogs, mosquitoes and ghosts for company?
Louise has decided she wants a bottle of water for the journey. She goes off in search of some while I sit on the public bus minding our bags. She is taking too long about it. I’m not worried that anything has happened but I am worried that we might drive off without her.
We don’t.


28/12/02: Catch bus to Trang. Book into the Queen Hotel. Lunch at Koh Teng (curry). Drink at what should be the Old Time Pub but doesn't appear to be; eat fries with chilli sauce and play cards.

There is something oddly European about the wonderfully named Trang, with its wide roads and shallow undulations. Clean, modern concrete structures cohabits with older but no less functional architecture, not too dissimilar from French football stadia design of the 1970s (Strasbourg’s Stade de la Meinau being a good example). Its role as a stop-off point means, like Chumphon or Surat Thani, the 'farang' here are in limbo. Consequently, Trang possesses little in the way of entertainment. However, there is a bar just up from the cinema, run by a Belgian guy, that wouldn't seem out of place in Hoxton, were it not for the tiny, red ants that make their home in the bamboo furniture.


The public bus again, which means terminating on the outskirts of town. Fortunately, we did board the correct vehicle and it didn’t take the scenic route, and so after finding ourselves a taxi we are booked into the Queen Hotel by a reasonable hour. It is mid-afternoon and I am in desperate need of sustenance.
We'd read about a place called Koh Teng in our guidebook and liked the sound of it, but we saw the Queen Hotel first and our driver seemed the pushy sort who’d had somewhere specific in mind for us, so we made out we had reservations at the Queen and had him stop there. Now we’ve found Koh Teng and it seems like the more interesting place to stay. With an open, street-side atrium doubling up as a cafe, it’s like an old, colonial hotel that’s seen better days. It is also cheaper than the Queen, so we decide that tomorrow we shall defect and offer our residential allegiance to the Koh Teng.
In the meantime, we'll try their chicken curry with rice, as recommended by the genial gentleman who has taken our reservation. Louise has been living on green curry for some time now, while I have been taking full advantage of our coastal proximity, eating mostly fish. But we are inland again and it is time to cut back on the expenditure, and curry fits the bill.
Koh Teng’s speciality is not your normal Thai curry. Neither green, red nor yellow, it might be a variation on the thicker massaman curry, a dish that originates from Thailand’s Muslim south. It blows my mind and revitalises my appetite for proper Thai food. When we move here tomorrow, both of us will feast on this house speciality for a second time.
Trang is pleasant in a sleepy sort of way. There are newsagents, a few cafes, raised grass verges and flower beds that run down the middle of the road. There is a shopping mall a bit like the one in Surat Thani, but with fewer people and less merchandise. There is very little to occupy the traveller in Trang but I’m hoping we might stumble on something of interest soon. We’re off in search of The Old Time Pub and are having to walk down some fairly dark streets to find it. In a way, this is a very genuine Thai experience, similar to Surat Thani but without all the people and no sign of tourists. Or is it more akin to Prachuap Khiri Khan, except with more people but still no sign of tourists?
We eventually find what we think should be The Old Time Pub but it’s hard to tell.  We’re the only people here, there isn’t much on offer in the way of food, and the staff look us over like we've made some sort of mistake. We settle for a couple of servings of fries, chilli sauce to go with them, and many beers. Across the road there appears to an outdoor party taking place. We cannot be sure because it looks like it’s going on in a parking lot, but there is a lot of noise. Buoyed by the alcohol, I half-seriously suggest we go and check it out. We don’t but I get the sense it would either have been either a really good idea or a very bad one.


29/12/02: Move to Koh Teng. Have breakfast, check email, visit shopping mall, drink coffee. More curry, and a few drinks in bar run by Belgian chap.


Ko Teng – what a place. The rooms are actually very similar to those at the Queen – large, slightly shabby affairs with an open-topped en-suite bathroom shoved in the corner – but the many flights of stairs and the landings in between have a dilapidated grandeur about them that is very pleasing. The strangest thing of all is that the hotel seems to have been built just inches from a neighbouring tenement block, but to save on bricks and mortar they’ve left the joining walls exposed so you can see across onto the other building’s landing.
Once we've dropped off our things, we have breakfast, walk around town, stop for a coffee and to check our emails, before having curry again for tea (dinner, if you prefer). In the evening we visit a bar run by a Belgian chap just across from the Queen. It is a good day and Trang has served a purpose. It has helped me readjust to the pace of travelling, and I am finally beginning to feel like I know what I’m doing.

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