Monday 3rd December 2001, Hat Patong Thailand.
We ate at Mae Porn again for breakfast. Then we packed our bags and checked out of the Sinthavee Hotel. We clearly needed a taxi to transport us with our luggage to Hat Patong, but we had a choice: a saloon car for Baht 450, or a “tuc tuc” (not a ‘real’ 3-wheeled tuc tuc, like in the James Bond films, but a shiny little Japanese van – the type florists use – with bench seating in the back). The ‘tuc tuc’ option seemed much more fun. So we piled ourselves, and our luggage into the back, and set off for Patong. As we climbed the steepest part of the hill, we almost ground to a complete halt, and our descent was punctuated with a volley of pops and bangs from the van’s exhaust.
The Banthai Beath Resort was a breath of fresh air (literally) after the grimy Sinthavee. (Though, to be fair to the Sinthavee, our room was immaculate … it was just the public parts of the hotel that would have benefited from a makeover.) Our huge double room overlooked the esplanade, and benefited from all the little luxuries that we have quickly become accustomed to, in oriental hotels. We had a brief walk around the resort, before succumbing to the heat, and a wish to escape the over-keen tailors’ reps and souvenir vendors.
We had a good, but criminally overpriced, curry at the Narrang Mahal. Although the total bill came to about £13, it was many times more expensive than an equivalent meal in Phuket Town.
Later we stopped to listen to “Mad Dog McCrea” at Molly Malone’s Irish Pub, before retiring to our room (above the hotel’s resident band). There was no hope of any sleep, so we poured ourselves a couple of beers and danced on our balcony till they finished.