“So what places are good to see here?” I asked my stepdad while at the same time wondering if Ariana Grande secretly digged obscure up and coming authors…
“Well, James Bond Island obviously,” He replied. “But there’s also a nice little place called Khao Lak that’s really good.”
So he took me to the bus station so I could ask Mr Man sitting behind the desk when the buses left. He told me 8:30, 11:00 and 5:30. He also said the bus took an hour and that there were buses that went back the same time. Sold, sold and sold! Except it wasn’t sold because I didn’t actually buy a ticket. I’m not good at mornings, so the plan was to aim for the 8:30 bus and then catch the 11:00 one when I inevitably overslept…
Strangely enough I actually woke up at 7, had breakfast and was at the bus station for 8:15. Ended up falling asleep on the bus and was ready to explore Khao Lak by 9:45.
I got dropped up right by the Tsunami Memorial Museum, which was handy because that was one of the places on my radar while I was there. As I got to the museum I came face to face with a monumental police boat, which had been washed over one kilometre onshore during the tsunami, and had subsequently been left there…
Next was the museum. It cost 300 Baht to get in and I could see it was tiny. It looked like a small bedsit with a few pictures of the carnage scattered around the place and a TV with tsunami news stories on loop. It seemed a bit extortionate for things that had clearly been taking from either Google Images or Youtube, but I felt like I’d be a bit of a dick if I didn’t go in, and huffed theatrically like a diva as I paid the angry looking lady…
There was an upstairs though, so I wondered what crazy contraptions could be upstairs. Maybe a Saw trap? or some objects recovered from the wreckage like parts of a motorbike or a necklace of a person who still has been undiscovered? You know, something that would really tug the heartstrings…
No… Turns out there were just two more videos on loop – one in English and one in German – of relatives being interviewed about the loved ones that sadly perished in the tragedy. It was sad, but again it was something I could have seen at home on the internet. It wasn’t exactly worth the money. The only positive being that I was told the money went towards the victim’s families. So in that case it became less about how good the museum was and more about simply giving money to people whose lives were destroyed directly or indirectly as a result of what happened in 2005. So the museum was pretty meh, but the fact you are donating money to people makes it worth it…
Next on the agenda was a cheeky Spag Bol for lunch. I spoke to the girl and asked to order (in Thai) and she was very disinterested in me which I thought was rude, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. After being ignored a few times or being greeted with a huff and a point to the bar while she didn’t even look up from her phone, the restaurant owner finally came out, and swiftly gave a load of takeaway food to the girl who then smiled and went on her way. Which I suppose would explain why she didn’t give a shit…
Then for the next hour or so I found out why Khao Lak was so marmite; it reminded me of all the bad things about tourist areas in Thailand. There were persistent tailors who wouldn’t leave you alone and made you uncomfortable; overpriced food, bars with huge ‘happy hour deals’ spread all over the bar and massage shops EVERYWHERE with each girl screaming “MASSAGE!” as you walked by. I realised pretty quickly this place wasn’t for me, and after walking a few kilometres to a few random places I decided it was time to call it a day and grab a bus back to Phang-Nga.
The beaches were nice. I reckon I was in the wrong part of town though as I could see about a kilometre or so south that the beach was much nicer. I couldn’t access it directly though because the rocks were in the way. Maybe they (the beaches) belonged to a resort?
.
Only Khao Lak had one final fuck you planned for me; I got to the bus station and met another angry lady. I asked to get a bus to Phang-Nga and she said there were no buses to Phang-Nga, only Bangkok.
“But… I got the bus here this morning from Phang-Nga!” I squealed in vain.
“No you didn’t…” She replied completely deadpan.
So after asking a few people in Thai how I was going to get home, I was told that I had to wait on the side of the road and wait for a big bus to drive past, and then frantically wave it down. They also told me that these buses ran once an hour and looked at me like I was mental when I asked if I could have a vague time when the bus would come past so I didn’t have to focus intensely for one whole hour in case the bus flew right past while I was in a middle of a quick daydream…
Forty minutes later two buses flew past at the same time. I waved one of them down and prayed I’d waved the right one down. I did! And even though I had to sit on the floor I was soon in a small place called Klok Kloi, where a minivan would apparently take us back to Phang-Nga.
On the bridge in Phang-Nga town
I asked the guy behind the desk when the next bus to Phang-Nga was leaving. “One hour!” He scoffed as he continued to watch his random Thai TV show. “Great! I’ve got an hour to kill, let’s go exploring!” I said excitedly. However on the way out of what I could only describe as a large bus stop, I walked past a minivan and noticed it said Phang-Nga on it, and asked the driver when he was going.
“Now…” He said in a confused tone. So 50 Baht later I was on my way back. Not only that, but the legend dropped me off right in the town centre. So I slipped him an extra 20 Baht and walked back to my Mum’s house. 30 minutes later I was lounging on the lilo in the pool looking at the gorgeous view, vowing never to go to Khao Lak again unless it was to make someone else happy…