Oh, Phuket!
While at the Grand Palace we had the opportunity to see the changing of the guard. In Prague, like London, this was a big event full of pomp and circumstance with large groups of colorfully liveried soldiers marching precisely in step, chins tucked and rifles twirling. In Bangkok it was…cute. Three soldiers sort of marched somewhat in step, smiling every time they made a mistake. They did two or three simple moves with their rifles, exchanged places, and marched in precision to within five feet of the guard house where they relaxed and walked the rest of the way. After the changing one of the new guards on duty chatted with a tour guide. Our own guide, Cindy, told us the next day that they stand motionless for an hour. Mike said, “or at least 54 minutes.”
I checked out around noon. There were no surprises on the bill, which was in baht although the rates were quoted in U.S. dollars. Phone calls were 15 baht (40¢) regardless of length. We took a taxi-meter to the airport (183 baht plus 40 baht toll or $6). As usual the driver waited until he was about 50 meters from the turnoff to ask us whether we were going to the domestic or international terminal. When Mike replied “domestic” (in Thai) the driver said, “oops,” smiled sheepishly, and cut across four lanes of traffic to get to the exit.
We went to the Business-Class checkin line and were helped by the least friendly Thai woman I’ve ever met. She did not smile once but took our mileage numbers, checked our bags, and handed us boarding passes. We waited in the VIP lounge for an hour while waiting for our flight to be called, snacking on complimentary chicken-liver savouries and iced tea, then took the secret VIP passage to the security checkpoint. We passed the Burger King, where hungry passengers were ordering “Whop-pers,” and got to gate 63 as they were already boarding our flight.
I’ve said before that Thai short-haul domestic service should be a model for the world. Even though they’ve eliminated wine and non-mealtime meals, the service is still great. As we boarded there was a rack with enough newspapers for everyone on the plane to have one if desired. Instantly upon sitting down we got a hot towel and a choice of water, orange juice, or iced tea. This was an Airbus 300 and we got the undesirable bulkhead row (11) with little legroom so when the door closed we moved back to the second row. The flight was one hour. Snack service was limited to crispy baby clams because of the time of say (2 p.m.). Business class was a comfortable 2-2-2 and coach was a 2-4-2 slave ship. $20 more for Business.
We landed in Phuket on schedule. Our bags were first out with their Royal Executive Class tags and we booked a VIP car to Patong Beach. Regular taxis cost 480 baht ($12) and VIP cars (Volvos) cost 700 baht ($18). We decided to go First-Class all the way and took the Volvo for the 45-minute drive. The driver took us to our usual hotel, the Sand Inn, an inexpensive but very friendly establishment with a good Western breakfast in the restaurant and Internet access from the rooms. Low-season rent was 700 baht/night but we got it for 600 baht ($15) because we are good customers. This includes tax and service. The rainy season had arrived in Phuket. Torrential cloudbursts punctuated our trip down the highway to Patong Beach. Drenched Thai schoolchildren rode bicycles and motorbikes two or three at a time, still smiling.
We relaxed and unpacked, then had an early dinner at Mr. Good’s seafood restaurant. Mike was looking forward to slurping down a dozen oysters. I was looking forward to the great Phuket tiger prawns. We pigged out with a bottle of Chilean cabernet and spent a total of 2080 baht ($53.50), quite expensive for a Thai meal. They love us at Mr. Good’s. The piano player remembered I had tipped him six months ago and sent the waiter over to ask if I had any favorites. I asked Mike what he wanted to hear and he came up with “Desperado” by the Eagles. I wondered aloud if the pianist would know it. Mike said of course he would—it’s like the Thai national anthem. He did indeed know it and play it, then segued into “Sentimental Journey” followed by another Eagles hit, “Hotel California,” in honor of me being from California.
After dinner we segued over to the Rock Hard A-Go-Go where Mike had a Piña Colada (peen-YAH) and I had a Long Island Iced Tea (not on the menu, pronounced long-eye-LEN) prepared by my favorite bartender, the chubby “tom” Nung, who loved working at the club and ogling the lay-DEES along with the customers. The Phuket ballet doesn’t really compare favorably to the Bangkok troupes but the atmosphere in the Rock is very comfortable. We went upstairs and missed Larry the cowboy who used to run a country a-go-go up there but married a Thai girl and moved to the small town of Trang. We keep hoping he’ll come back.
We walked around a bit but I got tired and decided to crash early. The monsoons continued on and off through the night, slapping big raindrops against the window like the crashes of waves. It was very relaxing and I slept well.
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