Down in to Malaya
Doing well so far
| GLocation: 6.117001,100.370064 |
We were minor celebs at the last brothel we stayed at. And we were in the poshest house in town. None of the receptionists, bellboys, security men etc. could believe that we, farang, wanted to stay at the KPK Hotel. And as a result fell over themselves in an effort to be helpful.
The hotel is the first one you come to as one approaches the Malaysian border coming from Sadao, Thailand - it's about 1km from the border. That stretch, from the KPK Hotel to the border is nothing but karaoke hotels, girlie bars and other even more iniquitous looking establishments. Based on the clientele in our (rather nice, i might add) 'hotel', this whole world exists to supply Chinese men with vice who would otherwise be living under the relative moral repression of Malaysia.
This is just another hotel in the seemingly endless see-saw of accommodation experiences we've experienced. The night before, we spent in the best hotel in Songkhla. This one had a swimming pool, a beach terrace, and we had a room with a magnificent view of the beach and islands in the bay beyond. right next door was the golf course too. plus the town has some great [legitimate] bars and restaurants on account of the largish expat community working on the oil rigs offshore.
And the night before that, we were in a place that the Lonely Planet doesn't even deign to mention - Hua Sai. Evidently there are only two hotels in town, and none of them very nice. Those not on bicycles would probably drive the extra 100km or so on to Songkhla for a decent place. Not to say that our friendly (and overcharging) hosts weren't bemused to see both a real couple and who wanted to spend the entire night there.
And the night before that (in the last of this series) we spent in a very nice place called Piti Resort, outside Sichon, that we stumbled upon by accident. We've of course ditched our guidebooks in Bangkok, so our means of finding accommodation has tended to be riding into a town and then looking for signs. Lucky enough we saw a sign for this resort.
Piti Resort has a lovely beach, and was practically empty - save for a couple, who'd discovered this place via the blessed LP. These otherwise very pleasant people, let's call them Bruce and Sheila, were the fundamentalist type of 'traveller' (they're almost always Aussie too it seems) who believe in the infallible word of the Lonely Planet, and always stay at the recommended places and eat at the recommended restaurants. Anyway, Bruce visibly bristled when I informed him: "The Lying Planet for China is often worse than useless." He then riposted with a coolie creeper by bringing up the Ashes. This is a topic that Becky and I do not. talk. about. full stop. To prevent him continuing to chirp on about it, I left the conversation at "That Makhaya, he's a bleddy good though."
His wife Shiela was exceptionally kind too. When she heard about our fuss over finding a place to sleep every evening, she tore out a number of relevant pages from here LP bible and gave them to us - that's how we found the posh place in Songkhla.
And as for the cycling - it's been going well, despite the 33-odd degree heat each day after 10h30, and the near 100% humidity which is even worse. We feel that we got to know Thailand much better than flying from Bangkok to Phuket to Changmai and believing we've seen it all (okay, there's a hint of snobbery on my part here). Typically we'd be stopping at roadside eateries along the way, and paying next to nothing for a very nice meal. The only hiccup I've had at these places is mistaking boiled chicken feet for being squid (I was very surprised to discover the cartilage in the first mouthful).
The Thai people at these stops are, as ever, incredibly gregarious and friendly. A template for a conversation struck up with one of the other patrons might be:
"Hallooo!"
"Ah, hello."
"Where you come from?"
"London... England"
"Wayne Rooney"
"Erm, yes"
"Mancheste'rr. [Something]"
"Sorry, come again?"
"[Something]"
"Ah, Ashley Cole?"
Whereupon there'd be much joy and mirth, and the man explaining to his friends with such enthusiasm that presumably he thinks we're on familiar terms with the top players of the English Premiership - amazing that people over here find the Premier League so interesting, and despite having lived within walking distance of Highbury I can't.
Becky's holding up remarkably well. Despite the nasty heat rash she gets daily, we still manage to average nearly 80km a day. Becky's skills are improving too. Such as draughting: we take turns at the front, swapping every two or three kilometers, with the one in front catching all the wind, while whomever is at the back taking it easy; this makes the kilometers fly by. Her descending is getting good too. Today for instance, with her head down and elbows tucked in, only her shorts visible, an upside down black tear-drop on the bike, we flew down the toll-road into Malaysia.
rgds
//richard
(Alor Star)
