From hippy to hip
Krabi, Thailand (The Guardian, 2004)
If you’ve been to Thailand before, chances are it was as a young backpacker, hostelling on the Kao San Road, trying to resist popping into the branch of Boots in an attempt to keep it, as they say, real.
The prevalent attitude of one-downsmanship among the travelling community meant for me, as for so many others, heading out to Spartan beach huts in the southern islands in the hope of finding myself, instead mainly stumbling across beaches full of faux-hemian beardies practising raiki on bored-looking blond girls from Kent and Melbourne.
Post “The Beach”, it’s certainly easy to imagine the theorising between Western travellers about Thailand. The indignant outcries must be that places like Koh Samui are descending into ‘Costa Del’ territory, and therefore no backpacker worth their authentically-soiled Lonely Planet would be seen going there. On the other hand, disappearing into the jungle and voluntarily living off weevil-ridden biscuits for a visceral, life-affirming experience is certainly not everyone’s cup of stagnant bog water.
Tourism in Thailand is evolving, and newer properties are springing up to appeal to a more affluent market. Bangkok now has a rich seam of designer attractions and hotels that would appeal to even the most urbane poseur. With the value for money on offer, the country is beginning to attract more than just bandana-sporting gap year students.
Recent setbacks have not hampered progress. Thailand has suffered unfairly from potential visitors staying away because of SARS, even though not a single case has been recorded here. The government has even gone so far as to issue a USD100,000 guarantee, insistent that there’s definitely no SARS in their Thais.
Personally, I was eager to see a different side to Thailand – the side I’d previously seen being the view from a shoestring budgeted three weeks in a mozzie-infested hut some six years earlier.
Catching a one-hour flight from Bangkok, I headed to Krabi, a resort town in the south that sells itself on some of the best beaches in Thailand and some equally lauded natural scenery. Krabi is in something of a transitional phase between hippy and hip, a gleaming new Sheraton hotel the sign of things to come.
In a selfless quest to uncover some affordable luxury, I’d arranged to spend a night at Pimalai Spa, an exclusive jungle-scaped getaway on the island of Koh Lanta, another hour away by speedboat.
We whizzed past the amazing rock formations that have long attracted travellers to Krabi – huge, tree-lined limestone islands jutting out of the ocean that looked like they should have pterodactyl circling above them, the Jurassic vibe only broken by the arrival of fruit cocktails.
Pimalai is the first luxury resort on the island, set back from the beach-front wooden shacks that house the backpackers. Instead of the basic noodles and curry dishes they would be enjoying, there was promise of fine dining, but I was committed to my punishing schedule, and first endured an aromatherapy massage in the lush surroundings of the spa.
Later, my dining companions included honeymoon couples, well-to-do families and even a sheepish-looking crusty traveller, guiltily accepting a night or two’s relative opulence from his Dad, who’d flown in for the weekend. I expect he’d told his friends he was off to do some meditation, rather than have them know he was wolfing down lobster and chardonnay whilst being serenaded by a mariachi band like the rest of us.
After dinner, I headed down to the backpacker bars on the beach to relive the old days of buying rounds of Thai whiskey strong enough to strip creosote but that barely required you breaking into paper money. The arrival of the resort hadn’t pushed out the local businesses, and the bars were doing brisk trade, as were some mariachi-less restaurants.
Although they only make up around ten percent of the population, most of the Thailand’s Muslims live in the south, and in Koh Lanta they run many of the restaurants. Most of the bars are apparently run by the Buddhists, who seem to practice a particularly liberal, alcohol-friendly form of Zen-lite – kind of I Can’t Believe it’s not Buddha.
The bars were peopled by the usual backpacking suspects – intricately braided bank clerks from Belfast, pierced trustafarians from Perth and henna-tattooed hippies from New York. I drank enough to be persuaded into an ill-advised attempt at baton twirling around the campfire out front, reaffirming my view that any kind of juggling, like sex, should only be performed in public by those displaying extreme proficiency.
As beautiful as the starlit night on the beach was becoming, I didn’t envy the rest of them their hammocks, and guiltily sloped off back to my luxury apartment. Well, half-guiltily, anyway.
The next day I headed back to Krabi proper, checking into the Sheraton – with all the facilities you’d expect from a sophisticated resort hotel, it felt a little ahead of the game, the rest of the town still only just coming to terms with a newly affluent influx of holiday-makers.
After dinner, I headed out to the town’s night market, which has the same merchandise on offer as its Bangkok counterparts – all fake Luis Vuitton handbags, Gucci sunglasses and the latest cinema releases suspiciously available on DVD.
There were still plenty 100 Baht (around UKP2) hostels for fresh-faced adventurers, but at least those of us coming back to the country with the expectation of flushing toilets and air conditioning were being catered for as well.
The next day I took a kayaking trip to remind myself why Thailand is a draw for the tie-dyed and designer suited & booted alike.
Out on the ocean, we took to our sea canoes and explored the stunning limestone island scenery, paddling down through hidden caves, secret channels and mangrove forests, sheer cliff faces a hundred feet high towering above us. Within the interior of many islands are collapsed caverns, or “Hongs”, decorated with stalactites.
It was like discovering a primordial netherworld, or at least that was the aroma that came to mind as I undressed back at the hotel. As natural an experience as the kayaking had been, sometimes it’s good to be able to put some distance between yourself and the natural world, and not having to fend off insects the size of small family cars in a shower of questionable hygiene was an experience I was happy not to have to repeat this time.
Everyone’s first trip to Thailand should have that certain element of earthiness, but on the return visit, don’t be afraid to open yourself to the slightly more salubrious options that the country now affords its visitors. One night in Bangkok may make the tough guys crumble, it’s just less likely if they’re checked into the suite of a new boutique hotel.