If at all possible, don’t hand over your passport – take another option. Thankfully my sister was canny enough to insist that the hotel keep hold of it, as a compromise. Good choice – the rental man turned up a day later than agreed and proceeded to try and extort another day’s rental from us. The staff at Thip Residence are excellent, and in no time at all, they’re sorting everything out.
On a natural high from the moped rental, the next step up seemed an obvious choice. Four wheels are far dearer to rent than two, though at ten pounds each and granting complete freedom, I’m happy to pay.
As the rental lady pulls up in a silver
Tomy my first 4x4 it’s impossible not to laugh. I’m fairly certain this is the same Suzuki that was used in the Top Gear South America special. The only difference being; I’m not scripted.
I’m off to Phrang Nga and starting the engine up, it sounds like a Diesel, but is in fact Petrol. Driving on the left, it’s pretty easy going. This is similar to driving a long-wheelbase Landrover, as the gear stick has short vertical movements but long horizontal ones. With close gearing, I’m in fifth in no time and hardly moving at all. The rev counter refuses to budge above 2000 rpm, so I’ll be using my ear then. How fast you go depends on what pitch the engine is – the speedo suggested 100 whereas my watch measured 80. At that speed it bobs side to side as the high centre of gravity suggests it’s not meant for long haul motorway driving.
Its good fun though and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Lording around in expensive luxury is certainly not the path of the backpacker, and I’ve strayed enough from that course already.
Two screaming and eardrum-piercing hours later and Phrang Nga is reached. It doesn’t look dissimilar to a lot of seaside resorts, save for the lack of a sandy beach. This car sticks out like a proverbial saw thumb and upon parking, soon enough the touts are queuing outside. I’m reluctant to open the door, but why drive so far and not see something?
In retrospect and conclusion – if you want to view a clichéd tourist trap, use the tours as they’re better value. Otherwise, go exploring and expect to get lost – it’s far more fun. Either way my sister negotiates a hard bargain – and I’m enjoying watching the banter between them. He’s come down from 1500 to 1300, finally settling and agreeing to 990 baht. This is friendly banter and the locals seem to revel in it. With a full tank of fuel for a long tail costing 600, that’s £8 for 3 hours work. Nice work if you can get it.
It’ an interesting rock formation, that’s all. The internet surely possesses a million pictures, shot from the same angle, with the same framing and lighting. I’m not paying extra just to stop off and follow the pack. I’m far more interested in the local Muslim village built on stilts.
On arrival it feels very solemn; I’ve a strange feeling that these poor sea merchants have been shoved to one side. My first sight is an abandoned stall, where a clever use of taxidermy has made puffa fish into trinkets. Pearls are in abundance – a whole necklace for 660 baht. While pretty, I’m single and conscious of backpack space, so I’ll pass thanks. Further ahead a man is carefully slicing fish, which I assume are to be dried and bagged for sale. This place is a wonder, though it’s quite upsetting to see that some of the locals have taken to trading monkeys, as one in thrust in my general direction, “you buy, you buy” she says.
What process happened, whereby this became acceptable behaviour: Was it an arrogant Western collector after another trophy, to one-up his fellow imbecile? Or is it simply a case of needs must. Either way my stomach sinks, as I realise just how much of a spoiled and privileged life I’ve had.
Heading back and jumping in the car to Phrang Nga city, a night market’s dazzling lights beckon us in. Just over one pound of various food stalls and my belly is full. Whilst some of it looks savoury, it’s actually sweet and vice versa. What appear to be deep fried sausages are actually full of spiced rice; a pastry resembling a cheese covered sausage roll is actually a sweet dessert. It’s equally as delicious as it is perplexing.
Strolling around, children look up at me in awe and fascination, and I’m revelling being the only honky in the whole marketplace.
Damnnnn the petrol is cheap. You must feel like a king being the only honky in the village lol!
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