We were cruising through the nearly empty streets of Bangkok, with our driver cruising consistently at 140km along the freeway. The nooks of narrow sois and alleyways were marked, even at three in the morning, by the fluorescent gleam of food carts. At them were seated one or two Thais, coming off a shift or getting ready for one, scarfing or slurping down noodles. We had alloted ourselves the requisite two hours lead time to make our flight imagining the sprawling, snakelike Suvarnabhumi airport. Instead we had a little under two hours to kill on the other side of security at the considerably smaller and quieter Don Muang. Our flight to Krabi was brief, barely reaching cruising altitude before we were descending. From there we had a three hour land transfer shuttle to Koh Lanta Yai, herded from land mass to land mass among swarms of motorbikes and scooters, each with a pretty Thai girl perched on the back, her hair wrapped in a colorful hijab.
The Eastern peninsula of Thailand, in a sneaky grab after WWII, enveloped a large portion of the territory previously owned by Malaysia. Consequently, you have a large Muslim population occupying the south eastern islands of Thailand. This has served to accomplish a phenomenal food landscape at the very least. What we had heard about Koh Lanta is that it caused a conflict of what I would call "travelers conscience". Did you tell the truth and extol all the magic and virtue of staying on Koh Lanta and risk it becoming lost to the hordes and its magic ruined? Or did you keep it all to yourself? Tell any inquirers to go to Koh Phi Phi or the invaded beaches of Phuket?
In all truth, Koh Lanta holds a peculiar magic about it. Swaddled in a small cluster of bamboo bungalows for eighteen days, there wasn't a day that went by that wasn't completely contented with eating pad thai from a clamshell case, beachcombing or the buzzing of a $6 a day scooter rental. Though Kathmandu had provided an abrupt yet relaxing break from the hustling from destination to destination, from sight to sight, it was Koh Lanta where we were able to slowly come down off the mountain, where we had the opportunity to see things more than once.
Our resort, Lanta Castaway, could not have been more of what we wanted. For less than $20 a day, we had a bungalow to ourselves, a couple dozen steps for the sandy beachfront of Phra Ae, or Long Beach. At first we worried that Khao San Road and Chinatown had ruined us for cheap, unbelievably tasty Thai food. That was until we discovered the island locals located along the main road. May's Kitchen ruined me for any other Tom Yum. Mama's Resto made the best slurpy Pad Thai. Lanta Luau's Massaman curry left me with an insatiable and incurable craving that I have not since been able to satisfy.
We knew that a cooking class was a must in Thailand. We had both Koh Lanta and Phuket to choose from but our decision to go with Lanta Thai Cookery school defined our time on Koh Lanta. Because we had some technical background to work with and had a variety of different dishes that we wanted to learn that didn't fit neatly fit into any of their packaged classes, we paid instead for a private class. Each morning, from 830 to noon, we would prepare and eat traditional Thai dishes taught to us by Aon and Chien. We got to choose from some of the classics, pad thai and Tom Yum, Massaman and Penang curry but then we were able to stray and make some of our own curiosities. In Bangkok, I had learned of a dessert known as San Kaya Fuk Thong, which literally means 'custard pumpkin'. A pumpkin is hollowed out and filled with a custard base made from coconut milk, palm sugar, pandan leaves and thickened with rice flour and egg yolks. The pumpkin is then steamed and then cut into wedges. It was fun not only to learn how to make it but also to see how excited the others who worked at the cooking school get excited to make something new. They would chatter in Thai and Aon would translate, relaying helpful tips for the prep. It broke the formality of it. It felt like stmbling into some locals home, hunching over the countertop to chat while they cooked. We learned yellow curry paste from a Thai cook book the size of the magna carta. Our last day we made Khao Dome, coconut sticky rice patted around a banana and then wrapped in banana leaves and steamed. The women giggled as they watched our fumbly fingers try to replicate their neat folds. By the end we got it and everyone was eager to take apart the fun (and biodegradable) wrapper and tear into the sweet, caramelized sticky rice.
The locals are ceaselessly friendly and smile shyly when you make a fool of yourself trying to speak Thai. They remember who you are if you so much as wander by a second time, waving with the requisite 'Sa-wah-dee-kaa". They remember what you order, they remember how you like it. I used 7-11 more during mystay in Thailand than I would ever have in Canada. In Canada, 7-11 is for slurpees, chips, penny candy. It's a place you frequent more as a kid than as an adult. As an adult, trying to BE an adult, all it has is poor coffee, sugar, and the occasional 2-for-1 deal on energy drinks. In Thailand, 7-11 is cheap beer in huge cans, Milo on ice, freaky pandan cakes and the purified water that sustained us. On Koh Lanta lane, which feels about the length of a football field, there are eight 7-11.
There is a large faction of people who advise against tourists trying to ride a scooter in Thai traffic. In many circumstances I would absolutely agree. When driving in a country you're not familiar with in a traffic situation with many unspoken rules, it's easy for something familiar to get away from you. Locals drive with an...autonomy that most westerners would maybe find reckless but nine times out of ten, they're not going over 50 km/hr. That's what separates them from westerners who think scooters are meant to go faster than that on a road with potholes the sizes of moon craters. Ditch your pride and at times drive slower than maybe you want to.
On an island the size of Koh Lanta, scooters are a great way to get around. Tuk-tuks are always readily available and many activities on the island offer hotel transfer to and from their location. But tooling around the island, freely exploring Old Town and the Sea Gypsy village, chatting with the locals selling glass bottles of gasoline on the side of the road and driving through the broken shadows of groves of rubber trees, provides a view of the island that you would never know how to verbalize or how to ask for.
Ever since I was a kid, the dumbed down exoticism of "a world away" filled my imagination with numerous things that I needed to do before I died. Riding an elephant or a camel, fresh from the scenes of The Jungle Book, or Aladdin, was high on the list. Once we got to Thailand, elephant trekking shows up on every "must-see" list we read. I knew I had to do my research. It was a point of responsible tourism. From what I've read, elephants are used in Southeast Asia much the way horses are in North America. They are used for everything from building projects to performances. The training methods are more controversial and elephant trekking in general is quite a sensitive topic. In some cases, the elephants are brutally treated, not fed properly and stressed to the point of sickness and even death. Many elephant trekking com aides have incorporated elephant conservations and sanctuaries into their sites. We again asked around at our resort and found a small family operation at the south tip of the island. Her name was Jan. She had silky, polka dot ears. Sitting atop her head, her trainer guided her with gentle nudges with his toes at the flaps of her ears. Anything more to guide her was a gentle 'hup' or grunt to grab her attention away from the bamboo shoots or leaves along her trail. Her ears were soft like suede but her head and flank had coarse wiry hairs. Her head was like rough leather but even the gentle patting of our fingertips, impossibly small to the surface of her head, was enough to nudge her forward along the trail. There were moments like the tuk-tuk in Kathmandu where I thought of the fact that Jan probably does this jaunt a dozen times a day in the busy season. And some people are likely not too kind to her. From what we witness, however, she was lovingly cared for by the family that operated the treks. And it was really cool to ride on top of an elephant.
The top rated diving company on Koh Lanta just happened to have their office in the reception area of our resort. Dive and Relax offers daily trips to snorkel or scuba dive at surrounding islands Koh Bida and Koh Haa. They even offer full PADI open water certification courses. We signed up for their Koh Haa trip, a cluster of five islands half and hour by boat to the southwest of Koh Lanta. The other four people on our tour were each finishing their PADI certification so Moozh and I had the shallows all to ourselves for snorkeling. We also had the water eager boat crew who were more than happy to grap a mask and jump in to lead us through coral enclaves, through schools of tropical Angelfish and hovering over clusters of fluttering squid. The only boat in the bay other than ours was a long tail fishing boat, bow dangling with colored flags.
Another tour we were told not to miss was a four-islands tour. The province of Krabi, in which Koh Lanta is located, has something like one hundred and fifty four islands only three of which are inhabited. The popular four islands trip tries to show off some of these islands. The tour recommended to us by the owner of our hotel was Lanta Longtail Sun Tours. On a flawlessly sunny day, just another point to convince us that Thailand at the end of "rainy season" is nothing short of perfect, we walked off the dock of a stilt house in Old Town onto a Longtail boat and with just another couple in the boat with us we pulled off out into the flat morning waters. I could hear my skin sizzle as I hit the waters off the shore of Koh Chuek. The islands launch vertically from the waters surface, floral coral coating the caves and alcoves carved beneath. From there we buzzed over to Koh Mook, known for its Emerald Cave. A cave of 85 meters penetrates into the pitch darkness of the islands before opening up to a "room" with plushy, bleach blonde sand and a cliff decorated with the coveted birds nests, of birds nest soup fame. Long cues of Thais, those of whom can't swim, are tugged on long ropes through the tunnel, giggling and waving with excitement. A boat of Muslim girls arrived, out on the ocean for a day trip, and swam fully clothed in their hijabs, jeans, and shoes. The swim through the tunnel takes no more than five minutes but the four and a half of which when you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face if it were not for your guides torch are riveting. The other side becomes visible, the caves is lit up in rippling green light.
The next stop was a thai meal of champions and beach combing on Koh Ngai, a beach bereft of anyone else despite the resort sitting three meters from the sand. We drank beer and watched as the tide went out, then clambering over coral and past scuttling black beach crabs to our boat which sat beyond the fallen water. We stopped lastly at Koh Ma, swimming along a shelf of coral where tropical fish were baited with leftover green curry and rice. As the sun was setting over the stilt houses and docks of Old Town we sailed back in. With a couple of handy recommendation for tas food on the island, Moozh and I changed into dry clothes and set out again.
Eighteen days is just long enough to get comfortable enough somewhere that it's an adjustment to leave, especially when you haven't been anywhere for longer than a week since the end of June. Tucking in our mosquito net had become a part of my nightly routine. When the heat got too much, the solution was the beach that was closer to you than likely anything else at any point in time. Grabbing a beer -or five- at 7-11 for 35 baht (about $1) was a ritual, not just a habit. We would always walk to say hi to May, which usually meant we would end up eating there. The pretty Muslim mama making banana roti outside 7-11 knew enough to say "You're late" if we arrived after 730. We each furtively looked up how to move to Thailand before we confessed it to the other and smiled at how alike we think. My bathing suit was part of my daily uniform.
Put on your bathing suit. Order some Som Tam. Feel your lip quiver from the chilies. But whatever you do, DO NOT TOUCH YOUR FACE. Those chilies will make your nose burn for hours. I speak from too much experience.
Things I learned on Koh Lanta:
Som tam (Papaya Salad) is considered diet food in Thailand. The West could learn something from diet food that you would order on purpose.
Scooters are not as dorky as I once thought they were. They are especially cool with a pretty Thai girl on the back.
Quote from Thailand:
Me: Babe! Look at that cool shell!
Moozh: Babe we are on a beach. We are SURROUNDED by shells.
Bohemian Recommends:
Lanta Thai Cookery School for the most in-depth and exciting cooking class we've had.
May's Restaurant for her amazing Tom Yum - thanks May!
Mama's Resto for their cheap and large Pad Thai.
Susanna and Robbie with Lanta Longtail Tours (and Captain Ken) for a true traditional experience.
Dive and Relax for a killer snorkelling session! A+ company.
Lanta Castaway Resort for five star service at two star prices - thanks to Darin and the staff.
Scooter rental and circumnavigate the island.
Old Town and Sea Gyspy villages.
The Eastern peninsula of Thailand, in a sneaky grab after WWII, enveloped a large portion of the territory previously owned by Malaysia. Consequently, you have a large Muslim population occupying the south eastern islands of Thailand. This has served to accomplish a phenomenal food landscape at the very least. What we had heard about Koh Lanta is that it caused a conflict of what I would call "travelers conscience". Did you tell the truth and extol all the magic and virtue of staying on Koh Lanta and risk it becoming lost to the hordes and its magic ruined? Or did you keep it all to yourself? Tell any inquirers to go to Koh Phi Phi or the invaded beaches of Phuket?
In all truth, Koh Lanta holds a peculiar magic about it. Swaddled in a small cluster of bamboo bungalows for eighteen days, there wasn't a day that went by that wasn't completely contented with eating pad thai from a clamshell case, beachcombing or the buzzing of a $6 a day scooter rental. Though Kathmandu had provided an abrupt yet relaxing break from the hustling from destination to destination, from sight to sight, it was Koh Lanta where we were able to slowly come down off the mountain, where we had the opportunity to see things more than once.
Our resort, Lanta Castaway, could not have been more of what we wanted. For less than $20 a day, we had a bungalow to ourselves, a couple dozen steps for the sandy beachfront of Phra Ae, or Long Beach. At first we worried that Khao San Road and Chinatown had ruined us for cheap, unbelievably tasty Thai food. That was until we discovered the island locals located along the main road. May's Kitchen ruined me for any other Tom Yum. Mama's Resto made the best slurpy Pad Thai. Lanta Luau's Massaman curry left me with an insatiable and incurable craving that I have not since been able to satisfy.
We knew that a cooking class was a must in Thailand. We had both Koh Lanta and Phuket to choose from but our decision to go with Lanta Thai Cookery school defined our time on Koh Lanta. Because we had some technical background to work with and had a variety of different dishes that we wanted to learn that didn't fit neatly fit into any of their packaged classes, we paid instead for a private class. Each morning, from 830 to noon, we would prepare and eat traditional Thai dishes taught to us by Aon and Chien. We got to choose from some of the classics, pad thai and Tom Yum, Massaman and Penang curry but then we were able to stray and make some of our own curiosities. In Bangkok, I had learned of a dessert known as San Kaya Fuk Thong, which literally means 'custard pumpkin'. A pumpkin is hollowed out and filled with a custard base made from coconut milk, palm sugar, pandan leaves and thickened with rice flour and egg yolks. The pumpkin is then steamed and then cut into wedges. It was fun not only to learn how to make it but also to see how excited the others who worked at the cooking school get excited to make something new. They would chatter in Thai and Aon would translate, relaying helpful tips for the prep. It broke the formality of it. It felt like stmbling into some locals home, hunching over the countertop to chat while they cooked. We learned yellow curry paste from a Thai cook book the size of the magna carta. Our last day we made Khao Dome, coconut sticky rice patted around a banana and then wrapped in banana leaves and steamed. The women giggled as they watched our fumbly fingers try to replicate their neat folds. By the end we got it and everyone was eager to take apart the fun (and biodegradable) wrapper and tear into the sweet, caramelized sticky rice.
The locals are ceaselessly friendly and smile shyly when you make a fool of yourself trying to speak Thai. They remember who you are if you so much as wander by a second time, waving with the requisite 'Sa-wah-dee-kaa". They remember what you order, they remember how you like it. I used 7-11 more during mystay in Thailand than I would ever have in Canada. In Canada, 7-11 is for slurpees, chips, penny candy. It's a place you frequent more as a kid than as an adult. As an adult, trying to BE an adult, all it has is poor coffee, sugar, and the occasional 2-for-1 deal on energy drinks. In Thailand, 7-11 is cheap beer in huge cans, Milo on ice, freaky pandan cakes and the purified water that sustained us. On Koh Lanta lane, which feels about the length of a football field, there are eight 7-11.
There is a large faction of people who advise against tourists trying to ride a scooter in Thai traffic. In many circumstances I would absolutely agree. When driving in a country you're not familiar with in a traffic situation with many unspoken rules, it's easy for something familiar to get away from you. Locals drive with an...autonomy that most westerners would maybe find reckless but nine times out of ten, they're not going over 50 km/hr. That's what separates them from westerners who think scooters are meant to go faster than that on a road with potholes the sizes of moon craters. Ditch your pride and at times drive slower than maybe you want to.
On an island the size of Koh Lanta, scooters are a great way to get around. Tuk-tuks are always readily available and many activities on the island offer hotel transfer to and from their location. But tooling around the island, freely exploring Old Town and the Sea Gypsy village, chatting with the locals selling glass bottles of gasoline on the side of the road and driving through the broken shadows of groves of rubber trees, provides a view of the island that you would never know how to verbalize or how to ask for.
Ever since I was a kid, the dumbed down exoticism of "a world away" filled my imagination with numerous things that I needed to do before I died. Riding an elephant or a camel, fresh from the scenes of The Jungle Book, or Aladdin, was high on the list. Once we got to Thailand, elephant trekking shows up on every "must-see" list we read. I knew I had to do my research. It was a point of responsible tourism. From what I've read, elephants are used in Southeast Asia much the way horses are in North America. They are used for everything from building projects to performances. The training methods are more controversial and elephant trekking in general is quite a sensitive topic. In some cases, the elephants are brutally treated, not fed properly and stressed to the point of sickness and even death. Many elephant trekking com aides have incorporated elephant conservations and sanctuaries into their sites. We again asked around at our resort and found a small family operation at the south tip of the island. Her name was Jan. She had silky, polka dot ears. Sitting atop her head, her trainer guided her with gentle nudges with his toes at the flaps of her ears. Anything more to guide her was a gentle 'hup' or grunt to grab her attention away from the bamboo shoots or leaves along her trail. Her ears were soft like suede but her head and flank had coarse wiry hairs. Her head was like rough leather but even the gentle patting of our fingertips, impossibly small to the surface of her head, was enough to nudge her forward along the trail. There were moments like the tuk-tuk in Kathmandu where I thought of the fact that Jan probably does this jaunt a dozen times a day in the busy season. And some people are likely not too kind to her. From what we witness, however, she was lovingly cared for by the family that operated the treks. And it was really cool to ride on top of an elephant.
The top rated diving company on Koh Lanta just happened to have their office in the reception area of our resort. Dive and Relax offers daily trips to snorkel or scuba dive at surrounding islands Koh Bida and Koh Haa. They even offer full PADI open water certification courses. We signed up for their Koh Haa trip, a cluster of five islands half and hour by boat to the southwest of Koh Lanta. The other four people on our tour were each finishing their PADI certification so Moozh and I had the shallows all to ourselves for snorkeling. We also had the water eager boat crew who were more than happy to grap a mask and jump in to lead us through coral enclaves, through schools of tropical Angelfish and hovering over clusters of fluttering squid. The only boat in the bay other than ours was a long tail fishing boat, bow dangling with colored flags.
Another tour we were told not to miss was a four-islands tour. The province of Krabi, in which Koh Lanta is located, has something like one hundred and fifty four islands only three of which are inhabited. The popular four islands trip tries to show off some of these islands. The tour recommended to us by the owner of our hotel was Lanta Longtail Sun Tours. On a flawlessly sunny day, just another point to convince us that Thailand at the end of "rainy season" is nothing short of perfect, we walked off the dock of a stilt house in Old Town onto a Longtail boat and with just another couple in the boat with us we pulled off out into the flat morning waters. I could hear my skin sizzle as I hit the waters off the shore of Koh Chuek. The islands launch vertically from the waters surface, floral coral coating the caves and alcoves carved beneath. From there we buzzed over to Koh Mook, known for its Emerald Cave. A cave of 85 meters penetrates into the pitch darkness of the islands before opening up to a "room" with plushy, bleach blonde sand and a cliff decorated with the coveted birds nests, of birds nest soup fame. Long cues of Thais, those of whom can't swim, are tugged on long ropes through the tunnel, giggling and waving with excitement. A boat of Muslim girls arrived, out on the ocean for a day trip, and swam fully clothed in their hijabs, jeans, and shoes. The swim through the tunnel takes no more than five minutes but the four and a half of which when you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face if it were not for your guides torch are riveting. The other side becomes visible, the caves is lit up in rippling green light.
The next stop was a thai meal of champions and beach combing on Koh Ngai, a beach bereft of anyone else despite the resort sitting three meters from the sand. We drank beer and watched as the tide went out, then clambering over coral and past scuttling black beach crabs to our boat which sat beyond the fallen water. We stopped lastly at Koh Ma, swimming along a shelf of coral where tropical fish were baited with leftover green curry and rice. As the sun was setting over the stilt houses and docks of Old Town we sailed back in. With a couple of handy recommendation for tas food on the island, Moozh and I changed into dry clothes and set out again.
Eighteen days is just long enough to get comfortable enough somewhere that it's an adjustment to leave, especially when you haven't been anywhere for longer than a week since the end of June. Tucking in our mosquito net had become a part of my nightly routine. When the heat got too much, the solution was the beach that was closer to you than likely anything else at any point in time. Grabbing a beer -or five- at 7-11 for 35 baht (about $1) was a ritual, not just a habit. We would always walk to say hi to May, which usually meant we would end up eating there. The pretty Muslim mama making banana roti outside 7-11 knew enough to say "You're late" if we arrived after 730. We each furtively looked up how to move to Thailand before we confessed it to the other and smiled at how alike we think. My bathing suit was part of my daily uniform.
Put on your bathing suit. Order some Som Tam. Feel your lip quiver from the chilies. But whatever you do, DO NOT TOUCH YOUR FACE. Those chilies will make your nose burn for hours. I speak from too much experience.
Things I learned on Koh Lanta:
Som tam (Papaya Salad) is considered diet food in Thailand. The West could learn something from diet food that you would order on purpose.
Scooters are not as dorky as I once thought they were. They are especially cool with a pretty Thai girl on the back.
Quote from Thailand:
Me: Babe! Look at that cool shell!
Moozh: Babe we are on a beach. We are SURROUNDED by shells.
Bohemian Recommends:
Lanta Thai Cookery School for the most in-depth and exciting cooking class we've had.
May's Restaurant for her amazing Tom Yum - thanks May!
Mama's Resto for their cheap and large Pad Thai.
Susanna and Robbie with Lanta Longtail Tours (and Captain Ken) for a true traditional experience.
Dive and Relax for a killer snorkelling session! A+ company.
Lanta Castaway Resort for five star service at two star prices - thanks to Darin and the staff.
Scooter rental and circumnavigate the island.
Old Town and Sea Gyspy villages.