June 7 & 8. A beach bum’s delight
June 7. Ao Nang
Cory leapt out of bed and almost straight into the pool. I was more traditional and had a shower. The breakfast buffet was as good as before and we all took full advantage.
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A morning's shopping followed. We managed to find some cheap polo shirts, although with some difficulty in my case. I had to buy one size larger than usual and even these were a bit tight. In Singapore, I can buy clothes that fit at the normal sizes. We took many of our old clothes to a laundry service in an attempt to remove the grime from the jungle. I took photos to be converted into CDs, a process which seemed efficient.Interestingly, the prices of the cameras on sale in the shop were very similar to prices in New Zealand. |
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After lunch, not that anyone had lunch, the others hired motorcycles from the shop at the end of the hotel's drive. Valerie had never ridden one before but a quick spin down the hotel drive, round the island at the bottom, and back again convinced her that she was OK. With Angie loaded on the pillion, she set off up the road. I prayed on behalf both of them and of the population of Ao Nang and started walking, stopping quickly to have a beer and a satay for lunch.
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I progressed up the main promenade and soon found Angie outside an art gallery. She was a funny colour, having taken over at the front end of the motor bike and promptly nearly rammed a tree. At that stage, she had abandoned ship (sort of) and reverted to shanks’ pony.
My plan was to walk along the sea road to the edge of town, a couple of kilometres in each direction, to where there was an amazingly ugly new hotel. Part of the way along the promenade I stumbled upon a steam roller screwed to a lump of concrete. Quite what it was doing there, I will never know. I didn’t find anything identifiable in English so contented myself with a photograph.
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I made it easily enough, stopping to look at the long tailed boats moored on the creek, at the beach and at anything I passed which appeared to be interesting. The beaches were beautiful although the sand was a little coarse. This might have been the result of the upheavals caused by the tsunami.
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One of the more poignant sites was a Tsunami escape route sign. There were many around the town. Whilst Ao Nang escaped relatively lightly a few years ago, there is obviously a major fear that this type of disaster will re-occur.
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The return journey was much harder as the temperature rose and the sun hammered down on the back of my neck. I bought a bottle of water at a roadside stall and then found shade in one of the numerous shelters which have been built along the side of the road. As with most roads, there were also numerous temples and “spirit houses”. These are a feature of all Buddhist houses, offering a home for the spirits.
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Finally I reached the edge of the main town, where I rapidly consumed a bottle of water and an iced peach tea.
As I was emerging from the café, I was hailed by Valerie, who had found the motorbike too uncomfortable (and scared herself by having difficulty in going round corners), so I joined the rest of the family for some more shopping.
At 5.00 I walked the short distance to the laundry to await the arrival of our washing. This was late so I didn't get back to the hotel for half an hour, by which time the others had enjoyed a very nice swim.
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 Worst food in town? |
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Valerie & Cory went off for a massage whilst Angie and I took the sensible course of going to the cocktail bar for a few drinks. I had a very pretty blue one, gin-based and very enjoyable. I also had a red, rum-based, one, which I didn't like much. The others returned and we had a third round before weaving across the road to a local café for dinner.
The food was reasonable again but nothing that we couldn’t have had equally well in a Thai restaurant at home. There were, however, many worse places in town where we could have eaten.