Bangkok, Lucid: Short and Sweaty — Krabi Province, Thailand

Phra Nang Beach

My first term as an elementary professor finally came to an end and we had two weeks to kill before I had to head back to school for summer camp, so we threw some clean underwear in a grocery bag and ran down to Krabi Province on the western coast of southern Thailand, situated on the Andaman Sea. Koh Kwang, our little guesthouse, was located on the quiet Klong Mueang beach on the outskirts of the province and about half an hour from Ao Nang where all of the tourists flock for their imitation goods and charter boats.

Klong Mueang Beach
We walked to that islet during low tide

We decided to spoil ourselves and make the 1-hour flight down to Krabi, setting us back a whopping $100usd rather than opt for the 15-hour bus trip, and we were feeling pretty good about our inexpensive travel fare until we realized that the airport was far out of our way and they had monopolized the taxi service into town—leaving no room for negotiation on their overpriced taxi fare, and no alternatives. This was when we started to realize that the tourism infrastructure had our wallet by the balls, and that the “island prices” were setting in.

The day after we landed we rented a motorbike from our guesthouse and made our way over to Ao Nang to get a dose of the hustle and bustle. Driving on the left side of the road has been interesting and exploring the area by moto has become one of things I look forward to the most on our trips outside of Bangkok.

Long-tail taxis waiting at Ao Nang

Both the town and beaches of Ao Nang are situated next to a coastal park, and tall trees line busy streets that are set against a background of the sheer limestone cliffs that the province is known for. Freshly sunburned foreigners mingle past vendors selling knock off backpacks, beach gear, and canned beer while guesthouses and restaurants push their way up to the main drag between the dormant bars and clubs waiting for the veil of night to remove the already loosened inhibitions of aloe vera-clad tourists.

Public transit

On the corner of the strip closest to the beach you can buy tickets to get to Ao Nang’s surrounding islands and beaches by long-tail boat. Some of the beaches (including Railay, where we were headed) cannot be reached by the mainland, so you have to pile into the slender, wooden long-tails anchored just offshore. The ‘tails’ are merely exposed car engines with small propellers grafted onto their extended driveshafts, and are deafeningly loud when you’re onboard. The surrounding clear-water beaches are lined with these Franken-ferries, and they make for a very efficient water transit system. Just don’t miss the last boat back to town or you’ll be marooned on a private island paradise and booking a room at the exclusively secluded resort that owns it.

Abandoned at Railay

Sailor's Heaven

Many people, and I am by no means innocent, are fond of calling new places ‘beautiful,’ or ‘striking,’ or ‘breath-taking.’ Which is all well and good, but I would have to say that Railay Beach is more accurately described as ‘obscene,’ ‘uncanny,’ and ‘ludicrous.’ Every time I took a step back to take in Railay’s scenery as a whole I couldn’t help but laugh. It’s completely unfeasible. Comically blue water laps into outrageously shaped limestone cliffs whose colors mix from chalk-white and charcoal, to burnt sienna and red. All of which are topped with thick, luscious trees of the densest shade of green. It’s absurd. Before we left for Krabi, a friend of ours was telling us about her trek to Railay, “I kept expecting to see a pterodactyl flying overhead...” I know what she meant now, and I’m pretty sure that when good boys and girls die they are given a pirate ship and free passage to Railay Beach.

Chicken Island

Turtle Island

All of the horrible things I said about Railay are true of the other surrounding islands, of which there seem to be an endless supply. On our third day we boarded an even larger long-tail boat whose engine must have once belonged to a semi truck and took a tour of some of the islands that lay farther off the coast. It was a four-island tour-snorkeling-and-lunch type deal, and there were probably about 40 of us altogether. Unfortunately, because of the amount of things the tour was trying to pack into an afternoon, we were kind of hurried from place to place and didn’t get to spend a great deal of time on each island. But getting to snorkel around the reef of Chicken Island was definitely worth it and confirmed our suspicion that once we both have jobs we’ll be getting our scuba licenses. We jumped off the boat into a large field of coral and were surrounded by schools of small, brightly colored fish, and observing the fewer, yet enormous rainbow-striped grouper(?) feeding off the rocks was pretty neat to say the least. Black sea urchins with 13-inch spires filled the cracks of the coral and timid, incandescent anemones quickly closed themselves up as we swam overhead.

It's true what they say.

Nothing says 'thank you' like the gift of wood.

At the end of the 'tour' we headed to Phra Nang Beach, another beach that can only be reached by boat. We bought some corn on the cob and a beer from some nice old ladies in a floating food stall and headed to the cave at the end of the beach. Fishermen wishing for good luck would make a pledge to Phranang (Princess, Goddess) at the shrine in the cave. If their wish was fulfilled, they would bring back the gift of a lingam as thanks. We'll leave it to you to suss out what a lingam is...

Take it from the top.

On our last day we rented another motorbike and drove out to a nearby national park to do some hiking. The hike ended up being around 4km each way and the climb was a little steeper than we had expected, but the views from the top of the peak were well worth it. According the to the sign at the entrance of the park, there was a waterfall near the end of the trail so we were planning on taking a dip once we got to the top, but the dry season had been doing its business all over the mountain and the waterfall was more of a light trickle, so we hiked back down and headed to the beach. Tup Kaek was the beach that neighbored ours so we decided to check it out. Unbeknownst to us, it was a private beach for the three boutique resorts that bucked up to the water, making it difficult to find the necessities… you know, beer and ice. We also learned that “boutique resort” just means that it’s fair game for above-middle-age women to kick their bare breasts around in the sand. It’s never the ones you want to see, is it? After lounging around in the hammock for a bit we decided to pack up and ride back to our own beach where there were more cold drinks and less pancake nipples.

We chose to take an overnight bus home because we had the extra time and it was “cost-efficient,” i.e. we didn’t have any money left. After a week on the Andaman Sea and twelve hours on a bus, it was really nice to get back to the familiar street food and mom-and-pop shops of our little Bangkok neighborhood.

(Please click to enlarge)