Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
For various reasons - the inevitable comedown from Ko Phangan, some unfortunate circumstances and the island itself - our time on Ko Samui was perhaps the least enjoyable of the trip so far. Not to say that it was wasted time; we were only there three nights, and have some good memories to take away. Perhaps the chief cause of our lack of Samui-love was the character of the island. Having already travelled around numerous other island spots, it became increasingly obvious that each one has its own unique personal flavour. Busy Phi Phi was a frantic mesh of day trips and night time bar hopping, sleepy Lanta had a languid, local vibe, whilst Ko Phangan was a glorious mass of contradictions - Eurotrance raves for the masses on beaches situated just a few kilometres from isolated jungle peaks. Samui however was a Thai cousin to the Costa Del Sol, all unchecked development and expensive resorts geared towards families and honeymooners, muscling in on once pristine stretches of sand. The backpacker snobs in us weren't disappointed - just like other travellers had pre-warned us, Samui was a let down.
The best part of Samui was that it allowed us to spend a little more time with John, who we had met at Emerald Ocean on Phangan. The first night we arrived, John joined us for a lovely curry meal (with the requisite musical accompaniment of Mr Bob Marley, something of a Thai national obsession) in the fisherman's village quarter of Bo Phut, the spot where we were staying. The following evening, as we had already discovered on Phangan was John's 42nd birthday, one which he had a) actually forgotten about and b) planned not to celebrate. We soon decided against this and after decorating the birthday boy with a birthday banner, headed down to Chaweng, Samui's nightlife centre to partay. Despite the cheesy, neon overload of Chaweng (think Khao San road on a budget) we found a neat little soi in the centre of the town that housed numerous bars and one large club, Green Mango where crowds of foreigners or farang bopped the night away. We all had a great night, no one more than John, who was hoovering up Slippery Nipples and Blow Jobs (the shots, I should clarify) and lavishing in the attentions of the uber-speedy, omnipresent staff - literally the second you finish a beer, nigh on ten Thai bargirls flank the table with military precision and duel it out to see who can fetch you your next refill.
John, who had arrived on Samui the night prior to us, had also arranged a nifty deal with the accommodation that we were to stay at - three bungalows (me, John and the girls) for 800 baht a night - bargain! The place was called Chalee Bungalows, a nice spot at the far end of Bo Phut town beach. Bo Phut itself was one of Samui's calmer Northern coast villages, delivering peace, quiet & sunsets rather than the seedy glitz of Chaweng and Lamai. Chalee was a kooky little operation. The manager bucked his low-season trade with some fairly blatant drug dealing ('you want weed? I get that for you', for the record I declined) and nextdoor we breakfasted at a sweet little family-run place who had only started serving food the day before - needless to say our three course (!!) 'American Breakfast' was a series of surprises. Orange Juice that tasted nothing like Orange! Scrambled Egg containing peas and sweetcorn!?! A BLT??!!? Our days were largely consumed by bumming around on the beach, relaxing and attempting to snatch a slither of the resort cordoned portions of beach (and sea!) to ourselves.
The biggest Samui drama occured when we came to negotiate an extra night's stay at Chalee. As soon as John began to explain the deal he had cut with the manager Tong, he reacted with dumbfounded disbelief, vehemently arguing that they NEVER offer such cheap rooms (NEVER!), and stating the actual price to be twice as much. We left him to simmer for a while, but on our return he was still having none of it. Unfortunately - rightly angry that Tong had reneged on his earlier deal - neither was John, so an angry stalemate occured. The situation was only resolved when we attempted to move on, leaving the amount John originally agreed, and Tong and co. promptly called in the Tourist police! The two uniformed Thai's listened to both sides of the story (though for all we know, Tong could have said that we murdered his mother with a carving knife in an unsightly fit of farang rage) with amused indifference, eventually asking us to pay up. We did, beating a hasty retreat along the beach, wallets and pride dented, to new accommodation, ironically named Free House.
We enjoyed a quiet last night on Ko Samui at Free House, eating our evening meal to the rather idyllic backdrop of not just a beautiful sunset but also a beach wedding. A forty-something Aussie couple, joined only by five of their closest friends and the Thai registrar, stated their vows and exchanged rings as the high tide lapped at their feet and video cameras preserved the moment. Lovely. The following morning we were picked up from Free House to begin an epic journey to Chiang Mai, forking out the extra baht on two internal flights (Surat Thani => Bangkok => Chiang Mai) after realising with a jolt that we had been away for a month, and our time in Thailand was running out. I received a second reality check after hopping on to the bus and meeting two friendly Welsh girls (Becky and Nerys), which made me exicted about moving to Cardiff on my return, reminding me that I had a life back home to return to, no matter how distant it already seemed after just one month away. After a labyrinthine fourteen hour haul that spanned almost the entire country, we arrived in Chiang Mai, eager to put Samui behind us and embrace the culture capital of the North.
- comments