But as I say, the imagination had bound and gagged the rational lobe. I soon found myself on a long beach called Khao Lak, surrounded by older German-speaking women wearing bikinis that frankly did not become them.
Good friends from Seattle were with me, so my mood was not dark. I was just surprised. Several people had highly recommended Khao Lak to us. Nobody had mentioned that this Thai town wouldn’t have any Thai language signs, nor that pancakes would be easier to find than pad thai.
What Khao Lak does have is easy access to a stunning set of islands known as the Similans, which have a reputation for offering Thailand’s best scuba diving. Every morning during this high season, a flotilla of speedboats pounds across the Andaman for about 90 minutes, arriving at coves containing countless colorful critters. Divers and snorkelers can choose whether to stay the night on live-aboard boats that are parked in the coves around the clock, or to pound back to Khao Lak in time for some schnitzel and beer on the beach.We did the snorkel thing, we did some fine sunbathing, we even took in a small ceremony to honor tsunami victims (Khao Lak was hit especially hard by that disaster; our visit happened to coincide with its fourth anniversary).
Then we moved down the coast to Krabi. If this province were picked up by helicopter and deposited in the United States, it would be instantly declared a national park in its entirety. Its karst limestone cliffs, perfect beaches, and general overall stunningness fit all the national park criteria. Alas, Krabi also has national park-style crowds. Predominantly Swedish crowds. Paddling with a large group of fellow tourists on a kayak daytrip, we heard several accents, but the Scandinavians stuck out. At the Krabi airport we noticed direct charter flights to Stockholm.Somebody told us that the rock climbing routes starting from Krabi’s Railay Beach were about as good as climbing gets in this part of the world. We hired a boat to run us over to Railay the next day. It was shoulder to shoulder—not with climbers but with New Year’s revelers.
Numerous temporary stages were being set up in preparation for late-night partying by the water.We retreated to the big city. My Seattle friends returned home. By chance I had occasion to travel south of Bangkok twice more in February. Naturally, when my neighbors, Nick and Maem, called near the end of the month to say that they were going to the South for a few days and did I want to go along, it was pretty easy to decline. But when they asked a second time, suggesting that I meet them halfway through their trip at a nice place called Koh Lanta, what choice did I have really?
I’d first heard of Koh Lanta during our kayak daytrip. An Australian was lamenting that Lanta was “too quiet, without any of the night life they’ve got here in Krabi.” I said, “What was the name of that place again?”
Lanta turned out to be even more peaceful than I had pictured. Of course it didn’t hurt that we
stayed at the resort furthest from the ferry dock, or that it wasn’t New Year’s. I woke up early each day just to savor the empty beach, or to run over to a picturesque lighthouse at the tip of the island. Nick, Maem, and I enjoyed several delicious Thai meals. As we sat one evening in silence, digesting, enjoying the sunset, it was easy to convince ourselves that we were in an endless, cheap, and unspoiled paradise, visited only by a small handful of in-the-know tourists.
