Penang

Things in Koh Tao had got a little quiet so I decided to head to Penang for a few days R & R as well as to get my visa stamped for another sixty days.  After some consideration, I decided to fly with Firefly, rather than to take the traditional backpacker's route via train from Chumphon.  For a little more money I can have a seven hour trip rather than twenty seven.

On first impressions the island appears to be very well developed with an advanced infrastructure and a degree of order not always present in may other Asian centres of population.  The capital, Georgetown, has a distinct colonial appeal.  It has been successful in retaining some of this charm in the face of the modernisation that is evident in other areas.  While statistics say that the population is 46% ethnic Chinese on the island,  certainly in Georgetown, this diaspora would seem a lot more prevalent.  There are also some ethnic Indians mostly centred around the Little India area.

I stayed in the Banana Boutique Hotel which is on Chulia Road.  This is a refurbished historical building with a tall entrance hall containing an indoor pond full of Koi Carp.  The rooms were basic and lacking in light, but at least there was a functional television and air conditioning.  The WiFi was another matter.  As usual, this was not functional.  The receptionist wasn't interested whatsoever in doing anything about it.  She said she would look into it and get back to me, but never bothered. I returned to reception and she fumbled around for a bit, but said it would have to wait until tomorrow.  I pointed out that the main computer at reception appeared to be connected to the Internet, but she told me this was on a different line.  Great..  So when she wasn't looking I went into it and found out the password, and therefore had uninterrupted Internet for the duration of my stay.   This did cause some consternation among the other guests who approached me when I was in the bar and asked how I managed to get Internet, and they couldn't.  

The next day I went for a walk in the Clan Jetties.  This settlement was initially set up in the 1800's for migrant workers in the docks.  It comprises a number of dwellings built over the water on stilts.  You can imagine that at one time this was a slum area, but it is far from that now.  Each home seems to have some sort of business attached.  The walkways as well as the building are all solidly constructed from the best of materials.  The inhabitants are clearly well fed and clothed, which makes their appeal for more money to appear somewhat insincere.

The toilet facilities for members of the public walking around are a lot more basic than those in the homes of the Jetty dwellers.

Afterwards, I visited the Mansion House which is now the Chinese Cultural Museum.  It has an impressive collection of Delphware and furniture etc., but little by the way of explanation or information of the exhibits.

That night I wanted to try out a restaurant called Heaven Gate that had a number of good reviews, so with my head full of ideas of a French feast from the online menu, I set off on the 30 minute walk.  I had previously checked on the Internet as to the closing time which was listed as 11PM, which was ideal as I wanted a later meal.  I arrived at 10PM and asked the waiter if they were still open, to which he replied that they were.  There was only one table occupied and the other waiter behind the bar asked me for how many people I wanted a table for.  When I replied that it was just for myself, the kitchen suddenly became closed.  Needless to say I was not very pleased with this situation, which ended badly with me accusing them or being involved in auto-genital sexual manipulation for self-gratification, and even carrying out the internationally recognised sign language appropriate for this occasion.

Things improved when I found myself at the Chinahouse.  This is an amazing place.  It is about three metres wide and about two hundred long, with a open beer garden in the centre. It is obviously two buildings which were back to back being joined together.  It has a restaurant/cafe and one end and a bar at the front.  There are regular gigs here, and this night there happened to be a very inspiring Chinese rock beat combo in performance.  In fact, they were so good, the next thing I knew it was midnight and I was eating crisps from 7/11 on the way back to the hotel.  They weren't even French, but I was happy that I had a good night's entertainment and as looking forward to tomorrow's adventures.

The next day I paid a visit to Fort Cornwallis.

This is a small fort which was originally founded by Francis Light which began it's life as a palmwood stockade when the island was originally known as Prince of Wales Island.  The stockade was later developed into a fort and then subsequently re-strengthened into a more imposing structure in order to protect from the potential invasion by the French, which never happened.  There aren't too many original buildings left, but the powder magazine remains impressively intact, as do a number of the original canon.  

Afterwards, I went to the Protestant Cemetery.  This was interesting in that it contained the graves of many of the dignitaries whose roles had been documented in the history of Fort Cornwallis, such as Governors, military commanders and members of the Clergy.

That night I made up for the previous night's lack of decent food with a visit to "That Little Wine Bar" on the Burmah Road.  This is a delightful little establishment with a reasonable selection of food, and an extensive cellar of wines.  I opted for the baked Camembert, followed by confit of duck then baked cheesecake, all accompanied by a bottle of 2010 Haut Foret Claret, which was unfortunately comparable to the service - uncomfortably long on the nose, and short in complexity and character.    It is worth noting that if you have a Samsung smart phone, typing in "Camembert" can prompt your predictive text to substitute it for "Camel Birth".  Useful in the Libyan Restaurant "Camels 'R' us" but of no use whatsoever in this particular establishment in Penang.

All in all a very pleasant and relaxing stay.

Koh Tao: De-shelling the Turtle

This a separate article which I wrote recently.  It doesn't really fit in here, but some might find it interesting.

I’m off to Turtle Island, or Koh Tao as it is known in its native tongue.  Situated in the Gulf of Thailand, it is a small, idyllic island, only about 21 kilometres square and about two hours journey on the ferry from Koh Samui. 

As the catamaran steams into Mae Haad, the ramshackle town comes into view.  Catamaran – a rather grand name for the steel hulk of a vessel that has bounced me around for the last two hours.  I was glad I went into the VIP cabin, even though it started in an argument with a Thai passenger who reclined his seat right into my kneecaps.  I pointed out to him that there an entire cabin of empty seats he could have used instead of sitting on top of me.  His considered response was to tell me that I should have stayed at home and not come to Thailand.  Welcome to the land of smiles.

As I walked along the ramshackle pier towards the ramshackle town I was greeted by a chorus of “Taxi! Taxi!” from a throng of taxi drivers.  Some had signs for resorts, others had boards with names on them, but they all had one feature in common – being fat.  Fat taxi drivers make me suspicious.  It means they charge too much.  I selected the thinnest one I could find and we were off to my accommodation in Sairee.  It cost 400 Baht (GBP 8.00) for a journey just over one mile. My hunch was right.

If Mae Haad is a local town with some tourists, then Sairee is a tourist town with some locals.  Definitely aimed at the younger end of the market, for students in a gap year, or having just finished university, but still not wanting to grow up and face the real world, searching for that last little piece of hedonism before committing to a lifetime of conformism.  Who can blame them?  I never had that opportunity when I was that age, but I do now. So here I am, forty-six years of age about to relive my twenties.  I imagine that I will stop short of the drinking alcohol out of buckets, accompanied by series of promiscuous sexual encounters and then crashing my scooter.  In the end I managed to refrain from two out of the three, which according to the 1970’s philosopher, Meatloaf,  “ain’t bad”. 

There is no escaping the fact that scuba diving is the omnipresent recreational activity here.  There are in excess of forty dive shops around the island.  They range from the huge factory type organisations with their impersonal production line that churns out fully certified, but only partly competent divers, to the smaller, more intimate and professional outfits.  Diving courses are about half the price here that they are anywhere else in the world, and there is no doubt that this is the place to be if diving floats your boat.

Sairee offers almost everything the young, non-affluent, randy traveller could need. The beach and “Yellow Brick Road” that runs between here and Mae Haad is lined with bars, clubs, eateries and massage studios.  It has a really vibrant atmosphere at night, with fire performers along the beach trying their best to incinerate tourists, clubs banging out music into the night with revellers dancing in the sea, and even one or two old blokes like me trying to be young again.  If you prefer a more direct approach to your leisure activities, there are a number of girlie bars around, and even a Ladyboy Cabaret if you are in the market for such specialist entertainment that has more cheese than a French cheese shop on national cheese eating day.

Nearby Mae Haad is somewhat more conservative.  Less touristy, less pretentious and definitely more local, it has managed to retain some of its dignity, but there is still evidence of that being eroded with the ubiquitous greed for money that seems to blanket this beautiful tropical island.

Eating out on the island is a lottery.  Do not expect top class restaurants here.  There are a mixture of inexpensive local restaurants, as well as more expensive establishments aimed at the tourist market that sell the same food, but at four or five times the price. Be prepared for abysmal service.  I ordered chicken at one restaurant, waited for an hour then was told that they didn’t have any chicken.  You can guess what my reaction was like as this is now widely known on the island as the infamous “chicken incident”.  Such incidents are common, as is getting orders wrong, but they NEVER make a mistake where money is concerned. The locals are all about money, and how to get it off you with the least amount of effort. 

Many tourists think it is a great idea to rent a bike or scooter.  It isn’t.  It baffles me that the otherwise discerning tourist thinks that they can go to a small, foreign, tropical island with extremely badly maintained roads, often at an impossible gradient, and hire a scooter with no experience of ever having ridden one before, drive it at 2AM with two of their mates on the back after getting completely monged on alcohol and a raft of psychedelic drugs and then wonder what happened when they wake up the next morning with their face in a plastic bag beside their bed.

The bike hire business is a racket.  No matter what, you will be over-charged for damage when you return the bike.  There are one or two genuine rental shops, but if you don’t know, then don’t take the risk.  It is not worth getting into an argument with the locals here.

In fact, I have been disappointed by the general attitude of the local Thais on this island.  The land of smiles it definitely isn’t.  True, I have met and am friendly with a number of lovely Thai people here, but the general populous is aggressive, pushy and rude, often with an undercurrent of implied violence.  This is the one thing that really spoils this island – being treated like crap by the people you are financing by spending your money here.

It often seems to me that the locals have a total lack of respect for everything, apart from themselves.  They can be so selfish and short-sighted.  To a Westerner it is incomprehensible that there appears to be no planning for the future; no investment, nor indeed no respect for the very island that brings the locals so much money.  This island is being raped for its wealth; for the quick Bhat to feed that Asian need for instant gratification.  This is what will destroy Koh Tao eventually.

The recent elections here have been set to the backdrop of a more inclusive administration system, bringing Koh Tao in line with other provinces of Thailand.  There have been promises of new roads, reliable electricity supply and even a hospital.  All this is good news – or is it?  Koh Tao cannot sustain any additional tourism. It has reached its capacity, and perhaps at times even exceeds it.  If a better infrastructure would serve only what already exists, that is one thing, but my concern is that Koh Tao will change into a modern, resort-driven island, thereby killing off those features that make it so attractive today.  In a perverse way I like the fact that they have to turn off the electricity supply every time it rains, that the internet doesn’t always work, or that I have to navigate along a rut-ridden road on my scooter every time I leave my house.  It reminds me that I actually am thousands of miles away from home.

The last year I have spent on the island has been one of the best experiences of my life.  It is easy to make good friends here. The ex-pat community is very social and supportive, the weather is much better than at home in the U.K. and the constant flow of tourists means there are always new and interesting, happy people to meet.  I would definitely recommend a visit here before it changes for the worse.  It is a great island, but a kind word along with a little respect could make it the real paradise that it deserves to be.  Go on Koh Tao! Come out of your shell and give us a smile!