Ipoh – Down The Road

Festive Shift

I chose the 9th to the 16th January for my festive season break because I have come to detest jams, queues, crowds, and the increased noise and air pollution that peak period holidays bring to a ‘break’. Break.. how apt! Break, it probably would do, certainly spiritually and probably financially too. Most holidaymakers are easily herded into the tour operators dream mindset of: ‘we’ve paid a lot for this holiday so we must enjoy a lot’ (and to enjoy a lot, a lot more is paid at the destination for a rich variety of rich foods, a rich variety of outings and day trips at prices for the rich, and everything else in between at a peak season premium designed to ‘break’ you and make the locals rich).

So with my slightly mal-aligned festive season break I was hoping that I would not be broken. The break I needed was a break from the slog and monotony of routine and quite honestly the boredom of Ipoh.

Ipoh to Hat Yai via the New Hoover bus company cost me RM40 and six to seven hours bed rest. Arrival in Hat Yai , the closest Thai town to the Malaysia Thai border occurred at an unearthly hour that became positively cosmic when one remembers that Thailand live an hour behind Malaysia. In an aimless wander away from the Hat Yai New Hoover office I veered into the third early morning breakfast operation to appear in the street. Coffee and a bowl of noodle soup (to rival the best in Ipoh!) were consumed and left me feeling rather pleased to be in Hat Yai again.

Vague, hazy, early morning, time killing research into my plan to follow the Hat Yai visit with onward travel to Krabi and Ao Nang produced the, also pleasing, bi-product of a deal at the Hat Yai New World hotel of 450 Thai baht for a room with air con, attached bathroom, hot water, tv, fridge, clean and firm bed, but no b’fast. Another benefit of off peak holidaying.

I always enjoy the retail therapy experience of Hat Yai. However after the mind petrifying experience of Malaysian clothes and shoe wear shopping it doesn’t take a lot. Hat Yai food and beer are also a pleasure and a step function improvement over Malaysia tooooo! Wake up Malaysia!!!

Despite the Hat Yai pleasure, depart I had to, and the next day was transported from the New Hoover office ( a block away from the New World Hotel) to the bus station by Sao in her Honda Jazz. Apparently she is in league with the New Hoover organisation and obviously earnt something of the 300 Thai baht I paid for the 12.30 (which turned out to be the 13.30) aircon bus to Krabi.

A forty minute TUK TUK (a large tuk tuk) ride from Krabi bus station to Ao Nang brought me to within what I hoped would be no more than thirty minutes of having moderate cost accommodation at a modest walk from the beach.

I walked from the beach road east up the gentle incline amongst the bristling and not so gentle but inclined to be in your face commercialism of a much changed Ao Nang. It had everything that I could remember feeling disappointed to see in Chaweng on Koh Samui six years ago. MacDonalds, 7-11’s, Starbucks and a host of other franchised chain’s all bringing their own brand of western commercialism to what otherwise could be an eastern paradise. Ao Nang’s twee-ness was disappearing fast.

The fourth accommodation enquiry was at a place called Adams bungalows. Adams bungalows are set in half a football pitch size, well maintained garden of palms, shrubs, a pond and winding paths. Creating a pleasant ‘back to nature’ feel that I welcome so much in my life, particularly in this instance after the commercial lashing I had sustained during the twenty minute walk up through Ao Nang toward Adams bungalows.
I didn’t need anything fancy and was satisfied with a negotiated 450Thai baht per night for a clean firm bed, attached cold water only bathroom, fan, no tv, no fridge, no aircon, no b’fast deal. One night changed to three nights and then four… there may even be a fifth.

The days were sunny, very hot and spent between the beach and the book , the beach side restaurant and the book and the internet and no book. Western food choice is blazing and in many cases good quality too (I had to make the most of the terrible appearance of those beastly western franchise operations!!). Mostly because of its comparative scarcity in Malaysia I was attracted to the Western food more than the Thai food.

I have detected an air of irritation and dissatisfaction amongst Thai business owners and workers. I hear more westerners expressing concern at prices and I suspect that the decline in the strength of European currencies against Asian currencies make it a little tougher for the westerner to holiday here in the style they were accustomed to. Thailand needs tourists. Will they wake up to the realities of the new global financial situation or just keep raising their prices and only realise their mistake when their customers have found new locations to holiday. The latter I suspect. Greed is a terrible thing. Nevertheless they have had a good run.

Header photo is of Adams Bungalow’s.

Hi, Bye Had Yai

Rm75 return fare for the coach to Had Yai from Ipoh tethered my travel plans. I departed from the New Hoover coach office in Jalan Yang Kalsem at 1.45am on Thursday the 23rd July 09. I would meet my friend in Had Yai, mid morning at Had Yai Junction. Not a pub, a railway station! And so it unfolded. A pleasant two night, three day visit to Had Yai in southern Thailand. We ate, drank, sang, danced, walked, shopped, spat rice, perused hotels and generally had a great time. The weather was kind to us with fine days and temperatures a little lower than the Malaysian scorchers.

Had Yai hotels ranged from the perfectly acceptable Num Huat in Thanon Inpatuthit 3 at 300 baht per night for a room with twin or double bed, aircon, tv, and fridge and own bathroom; 350 baht per night for a similar room but with no fridge at the Tong Num in Trok Sukonthahong near to the Seven Eleven; unattractive options at the Metro Hotel and the Park Hotel for 360 and 400 baht a night respectively; then on up through a selection of mid range options with the Cholatern at 450 baht per night, the Indra at 500 baht per night, the Yong Dee at 580 baht per night, the Sakol at 680 baht per night and the Grand Tower with it’s own swimming pool at around 900 baht per night. Every hotel had rooms available on this Thursday morning.

Seemingly run by football team of brothers, we ate superb food at a ‘Thai name only’ restaurant behind the Grand Tower hotel. Hauling our full tummies to the livelier of the two central live music venues, Deep Wonder, situated (steeply but not particularly deeply) below the now defunct Odean Shopping Centre was a small matter well worth the effort. Deep Wonder’s happy atmosphere and moderately priced beer kept us smiling through a medley of numbers from it’s talented resident band that included, Dire Straights’ Money for Nothing, Rolling Stones’ Honky Tonk Woman, Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall, Boy George’s Carma Carmelion, U2’s With or Without You and many many more.

Full marks to Had Yai for a creating a scene that far exceeds anything that similar sized towns in Malaysia have to offer. Malaysia still has a lot to learn (from Thailand) if they wish to increase tourist revenue!!! The photo shows hawkers on the Had Yai Junction railway platform.

Low cost travel or trickery?

Yo Yo provide a bus link from Bercham in Ipoh, Perak, Malaysia direct to KLIA main and LCC terminals. At RM43 for the one way ride it’s an ok deal. The buses are clean, spacious, well maintained and cool. The trip takes about 2.5hrs and Yo Yo recommend allowing 3 hrs to make the trip. So I did and it meant leaving Ipoh on the 1am bus to arrive in KLIA LCCT at around 4am in the morning in readiness for a 7.20am Air Asia flight to Manila in the Philippines. I slept lightly on the bus and ate (Mc D!?!?) to relieve boredom at the airport. Check in opened at 5.30am. With my bag despatched to the dungeonous mysteries of the KLIA conveyors and a boarding pass tucked into my passport I left the main concourse for the departure lounge and a singular duty free task. Terry’s gin aka Gordon’s Gin upon purchase at the duty free shop is sealed into a specimen bag large enough to contain a gaggle of such bottles.
Air Asia have finally ditched the free seating approach to loading the plane. Their reason I guess they would argue is that it’s more orderly to have seats allocated at check in although I don’t think you can request a particular seat or even location such as window or aisle at the check in process. I have however noticed that there is now an opportunity to add Rm10 to your fare for the priveledge of selecting a preference seat at the internet booking process. Low cost travel or trickery, I occasionally ask myself.
I was fortunate enough to have been allocated an aisle seat, allowing me to thrust the parts of my European form not easily located into the pen between seats, out into the aisle. This irritates the stewards endlessly who counter attack by kicking and wheeling trolleys into me at every opportunity. The seats recline one inch in the interests of economy. As if in compensation they are leather and much is made of this in the amateur banter attempted by the leading stewardess in attempts at lifting the moods of passengers depressed by the overpriced, undersized, taste free food portions and the hand dry towels in the toilets that regress to multiple white tacky globules once moist and in contact with skin. Dry your unshaven face with the hand towels in Air Asia in flight toilets and you will appear to have contracted an in flight mucus that if managed properly could do more for the amusement of other passengers than any banter over leather seats.
The eventful three and half hour flight to Clarke Air Base (a hangover from the American occupation of the area) in Pampangas Philippines was concluded with a smoothe landing on a wet runway. As usual people are out of their seats before the plane has come to a halt, hauling heavy and fragile bags out of the overhead lockers and then stumbling with them as the pilot finally hits the brake pedal. One industrious Philippino was fighting his way up the aisle from a point beyond the wing exits to acheive pole position on the start grid for the door openings. Smile I did when it was announced that we would be departing from the rear of the plane to facilitate a bus service laid on to keep us dry in our passage to the immigration and customs area.
The Philtranco coach to the SM Megamall in Ortigas, apparently the closest stop to Makati cost me 300peso. Alighting from the coach was comparable to being submitted to a bear pit. I fended of the frenzy off taxi drivers who are intent on not only capturing my fare but partaking in conversation about where I’m going before I even make eye contact, My God! I recovered my rucksack from the hold of the bus and walked away from the drop point in the opposite direction to that of the taxi rank.
I sweated a little as I walked away but fell on my feet when in conversation with a street vendor discovered that there was an MRT station on the other side of the Meagamall building. I think it was Shaw Boulevard or Shaw Station and the fare to Ayala was 11peso. A bargain compared to the 250-300 that I would have been paying in a taxi.

Drinks at Houz!

Authors Note: Not as much as one of the characters in the following paragraphs are fictitious. Any character resemblance to individuals within my social circle is completely intended. 😛

Interesting bit of social last night. Got invited to a few drinks at Houz. Eagle and Flamingo were going to be there and Toucan would pick me up to take me there in her car. For a drink with Flamingo I thought I would be able to put up with a car ride from Toucan. She was late picking me up and when I asked her what happened to make her late she reported that she couldn’t decide what to wear. I wound the window down to vomit but managed to hold back. Instead I just commented that the deliberation wasn’t worth it and she still looked like a Nag. Nah just joking. Anyway..pleasant car ride with Toucan where the conversation went along the lines ‘so Graham you live in Ipoh Garden East?’ ; ‘Yes Toucan.’; And that’s the house you live in?’; ‘Yes Toucan.’ ; ‘ I seeee’ ; by which time I was asleep.
After a remarkable hunt for a car park space which contained missed turnings, missed spaces and, thankfully, a few missed pedestrians I was tasked with slithering out of a three and a quarter inch door opening, a biproduct of Toucan’s act of wedging the Myvi into a space that, in a previous life, had been a concrete anchor for the ubiquitous 1980’s style public phone kiosk (and still retained some of the bolt studs and wire ends that serve to mark Malaysians keen desire to minimise their expense on honorary tributes to 20th century technology).
In a feeble attempt to escape her presence for a few seconds I ran to the Pub from the parking space. I fumbled at the doorway with some frustrated pushes on pull signed glass entrance doors and the beaky presence of Toucan once more besieged me. We walked in together and I felt a warm flood of sweat engulf me as I realised the street wise Houz croud had clocked me and I had within seconds fallen from attractive, stylish, desirable bachelor, in their lofty esteem, to desperado of the month, possibly the year or even decade.
I was lifted by the smile and charismatic presence of Flamingo opposite Eagle perched on stools at a corner table. As I approached the table our eyes met and my hand went to her elbow. We conducted the cheek to cheek ritual that signifies the warm hello exchanged by those with a hope for more than just a drink together. Wicked. OMG.. dream on Graham!
Then the evening collapsed, again. Flamingo’s husband arrived. There was an evacuation event that would have earnt medals of decoration for bravery and dedication to underhand activities for all involved had we been attached to any military organisation.
Within a few meagre minutes of arriving at the evening of my dreams I’d somehow been herded into the consolation position of one table, one bucket, one glass and one freedom.

C’est La Vie!!!!