When it comes to driving in Thailand, there is Bangkok, and there is the rest.
Driving in Bangkok is defined by interminable waits at unchanging traffic lights, clownish police traffic controls seemingly designed to stop any kind of traffic flow at all, air quality that Lucifer himself would complain about, potholes that would not be out of place in central Africa, constant battles for road space with tuk-tuks, motorbikes and menacing green buses, and road manners so far from the polite Thai norm that you wonder if all the people driving are from this country at all.
Outside of Bangkok, driving in Thailand is all about winding country lanes, perfect-quality roads that would not shame an Australian or French highway department, gorgeous dual carriageways running alongside beautiful mountains, twisty forest roads with dappled sunlight, and spectacular mountain passes over windy ridges.
Pick any point on the compass from Bangkok, point your car in that direction, and you’re guaranteed an enjoyable driving experience once you escape the megalopolitan boundaries.
South, there’s the drive to Phuket: taking in Hua Hin, Prachuap and the pine-lined coastal road along the east side of the peninsula. The highway to Chumpon is excellent, but the small roads linking the coastal villages are more charming, with hardly another car to be seen for hours and hours of meandering.
The drive from one side of the peninsula to the other can be made via one of two routes; the northern road crosses from Chumpon to Rayong, skirts the Burmese border, and passes through lovely rolling hills and verdant fields. At the coast, the road turns south, twisting and turning with tantalising glimpses of the ocean all the way via Khao Lak to Phuket itself.
The more southern route, which is good for the journey back north, passes through Phang Nga province. The karst islands that make the bay of Phang Nga so famous can be seen here too; this time, however, not rising out of sea, but out of land. Cruising past these spectacular rock formations and seeing them up close from the car window makes for an excellent drive. East from there, the road passes for around 30 kilometres through a strange lost valley that could easily pass for the Garden of Eden.
North from Bangkok is made for driving holidays. Following the Chao Phraya via the small riverside roads; exploring the national parks west of Nakhon Sawan, with their high peaks and icy nighttime temperatures; turning west at Tak, following the mountainous Mae Hong Son loop along the Burmese border via sleepy Mae Sariang and bohemian Pai to end up in Chiang Mai the long way round; visiting the historical sites of Sukhothai and Ayutthaya; pushing north from Chiang Mai to the high altitude areas abutting Laos… the automotive options in this most gorgeous area of Thailand are endless.
Hotels are well-spaced, and you’ll always come across a tasteful lodge overlooking a river at the end of the day where you can sit in the cool night air while eating Thai food and drinking Heineken. It’s perfect motoring country and a driving trip here could take anything from a weekend to a couple of months, depending on how much you want to see and how slow you want to go.
West from the capital, the lush riverine country of Kanchanaburi offers massive reservoirs, wide slow-flowing rivers, untouched forests and some poignant historical reminders of what went on here from 1942 to 1945. Accommodation in the area varies from serene spiritual growth forest lodges to raft hotels floating on the river where you can sleep with nothing but the sound of the water flowing beneath you.
East from Bangkok lie roads to Pattaya, Koh Samet, Koh Chang and other islands near the Cambodian border; the beautiful country of the Khao Yai national park and wine-growing region; and the roads criss-crossing the fascinating hundred-mile-long canals of Pathum Thani, cut hundreds of years ago for transportation and irrigation.
And northeast is the legendary Isaan province, which could fill up a column of its own: perfectly designed for a driving holiday, with ancient Khmer temples on a par with Angkor Wat, tiny welcoming villages, interesting railway towns, quirky settlements populated with Swiss, Brits and Germans who have opted out of European life to marry into Isaan families, wild folk festivals and quirky customs, and the Mekong River always present, snaking along the border to create the Isaan Riviera, with luxurious hotels and restaurants at unheard-of low prices.
Personally, I’ve all but given up driving in Bangkok; and rarely even take taxis unless absolutely necessary. I’m much happier bypassing four-wheeled transport altogether: standing on the BTS, or perched on the back of a motorbike, or leaning out of the side of a riverboat. Anything where I don’t have to be involved in the control of the vehicle, where I can tune out, where the gridlock can’t affect me, where I can slither nonchalantly through, above, or around the permanent coronary-inducing standstill.
But most weekends, and any days off I can manufacture, I will be found behind the wheel: nosing down canalside dirt tracks, drifting along shadowy forest roads, seeking out obscure hot springs with a map and a GPS, cruising along reservoir shores on open highways towards obscure country resorts.
Thailand is made for driving. Just don’t tell the Bangkok Road Authority: the longer they remain uninvolved in the running of the rest of the country’s roads, the better.
Showing posts with label thailand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thailand. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Due South.
On a recent week off, I felt the need to get on the road and add some serious mileage to the clock. So, eschewing a brief Bangkok Airways or AirAsia flight in favour of seeing a little more of the country of my residence, I decided to get behind the wheel of the trusty Fortuner for a 900 kilometre drive south.
Two days later, after a very comfortable journey broken in two parts by one-night sojourns in Ranong and Khao Lak, the Michelin tyres crossed the Thaksin bridge and made contact with the perfectly laid tarmac of Phuket province.
(An often overlooked part of Phuket’s appeal: semi-decent infrastructure. Think of a place somewhere between the cracked paving stones and dangling wires of Bangkok, and the decent roads, planted greenery and clean pathways of Singapore, and you’ve got an idea of the municipal geography of Phuket. It’s not perfectly laid out in the same way as Singapore is; but it’s considerably better than the rest of Thailand.)
Phuket’s irresistible charm lies in its geography. Long, sprawling white sand beaches. Tiny, secluded bays backed by towering peaks. Dramatic cliffs. Green mountaintops with views stretching forever. The winding roads of the west coast in particular are pathways to an astonishing variety of huge resorts, quirky little hotels, and charming guesthouses accessible only through coconut plantations. And the under-utilised east coast is home to dozens of tiny bays just made for whiling away shady afternoons as the sun passes behind the palm trees.
If I understood the receptionist of my hotel correctly, the Aspasia used to be a straightforward condominium apartment building, with each unit owned by private individuals.
I have no idea what kind of fool would ever sell an apartment in a place as gorgeous as this, but obviously there were a sufficient number of these imbeciles for the current owners to buy enough units to turn the place into a hotel.
Looking something like an Aztec temple clinging to the side of a hill overlooking Kata Beach, the Aspasia features a multi-storey swimming pool, huge rooms, superb bathrooms, balconies big enough to play tennis on, mesmerising views of the shimmering Andaman Sea framed by a modern-day equivalent of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and a sense of drama lacking from all but the most exceptional places of hospitality. There are a lot of very, very, very good hotels on Phuket. But I would find it very difficult not to stay at the Aspasia on any subsequent trips to the island.
Regarding food, there is no need for me to make any recommendations for dining, and including only a few would be unfair to the many great places that I wasn’t able to make it to. Suffice it to say that there are a number of excellent free publications available in most hotels detailing the wealth of eating and drinking options on the resort island.
Finally, it is my pleasure to announce that I have found the block of land on which my dream house will be built: away from the beach, at the end of a dirt track on the side of a mountain, with utterly spectacular views over perhaps ten or fifteen miles of winding coastline. (I would never have found it if I had not had the four-wheel-drive. And naturally, you’ll understand if I don’t divulge the exact location in the interests of keeping the area as long as possible in the same pristine state as it is today.)
If you go to Phuket, which you should, don’t automatically book your plane tickets. The drive is part of the fun, the roads are excellent and 900 kilometres isn’t as far as it sounds. I left Phuket early on the last day, enjoyed the gorgeous scenery of Phang-Nga Bay on the route across to Surat Thani, stopped for lunch about halfway, and felt sufficiently energised to make it back to Bangkok just before nightfall after a brief stop in Hua Hin for amaretto ice cream.
Two days later, after a very comfortable journey broken in two parts by one-night sojourns in Ranong and Khao Lak, the Michelin tyres crossed the Thaksin bridge and made contact with the perfectly laid tarmac of Phuket province.
(An often overlooked part of Phuket’s appeal: semi-decent infrastructure. Think of a place somewhere between the cracked paving stones and dangling wires of Bangkok, and the decent roads, planted greenery and clean pathways of Singapore, and you’ve got an idea of the municipal geography of Phuket. It’s not perfectly laid out in the same way as Singapore is; but it’s considerably better than the rest of Thailand.)
Phuket’s irresistible charm lies in its geography. Long, sprawling white sand beaches. Tiny, secluded bays backed by towering peaks. Dramatic cliffs. Green mountaintops with views stretching forever. The winding roads of the west coast in particular are pathways to an astonishing variety of huge resorts, quirky little hotels, and charming guesthouses accessible only through coconut plantations. And the under-utilised east coast is home to dozens of tiny bays just made for whiling away shady afternoons as the sun passes behind the palm trees.
If I understood the receptionist of my hotel correctly, the Aspasia used to be a straightforward condominium apartment building, with each unit owned by private individuals.
I have no idea what kind of fool would ever sell an apartment in a place as gorgeous as this, but obviously there were a sufficient number of these imbeciles for the current owners to buy enough units to turn the place into a hotel.
Looking something like an Aztec temple clinging to the side of a hill overlooking Kata Beach, the Aspasia features a multi-storey swimming pool, huge rooms, superb bathrooms, balconies big enough to play tennis on, mesmerising views of the shimmering Andaman Sea framed by a modern-day equivalent of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and a sense of drama lacking from all but the most exceptional places of hospitality. There are a lot of very, very, very good hotels on Phuket. But I would find it very difficult not to stay at the Aspasia on any subsequent trips to the island.
Regarding food, there is no need for me to make any recommendations for dining, and including only a few would be unfair to the many great places that I wasn’t able to make it to. Suffice it to say that there are a number of excellent free publications available in most hotels detailing the wealth of eating and drinking options on the resort island.
Finally, it is my pleasure to announce that I have found the block of land on which my dream house will be built: away from the beach, at the end of a dirt track on the side of a mountain, with utterly spectacular views over perhaps ten or fifteen miles of winding coastline. (I would never have found it if I had not had the four-wheel-drive. And naturally, you’ll understand if I don’t divulge the exact location in the interests of keeping the area as long as possible in the same pristine state as it is today.)
If you go to Phuket, which you should, don’t automatically book your plane tickets. The drive is part of the fun, the roads are excellent and 900 kilometres isn’t as far as it sounds. I left Phuket early on the last day, enjoyed the gorgeous scenery of Phang-Nga Bay on the route across to Surat Thani, stopped for lunch about halfway, and felt sufficiently energised to make it back to Bangkok just before nightfall after a brief stop in Hua Hin for amaretto ice cream.
Domestic bliss.
In Conde Nast Traveller’s most recent UK edition, Thailand is voted a very close second to Australia as the readers’ favourite worldwide destination.
I admit that I have been guilty for a while now of overlooking the appeal of the Kingdom’s travel opportunities in favour of those of the Indochinese region and further afield. I suppose it’s human nature to want to go somewhere… else. No matter how exotic the country you happen to be living in.
After seeing Thailand’s high score in the British magazine’s survey, however, I decided to refocus my attention on the country that I have been neglecting for so long. (The fact that my passport was full, and I couldn’t leave the country until I got a new one, made the decision to stay within Thai borders over the last long weekend that much easier.)
After a gruelling couple of weeks at work, and feeling the beginning of a nasty flu, there was only one option: the healthful sea air and blistering sunshine of a beach resort.
All reasonably upmarket accommodation options on Samet were full, on account of the upcoming extra day’s holiday. And anyway, as convenient as the three hour road trip from Bangkok to Ban Phe is, sometimes I’d rather just hop on a plane and get somewhere further, quicker. For the sake of a few thousand baht, an air traveller can be installed on the beaches of Phuket or Krabi with a cold Heineken in hand while the Samet-bound driver is still behind the wheel, stuck behind convoys of southbound Tesco delivery trucks.
Samui, then, was my destination, the early bird fares on the Bangkok Airways website being just too good to pass up. Early Friday morning saw me at the domestic terminal of Don Muang. Takeoff was at 6am. I stepped onto the tarmac of Samui Airport at 6:50am, avoided the wait at baggage claim with a well-packed carry-on bag, completed check-in at 7:10, and was gazing out at the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Thailand by 7:15, the nascent flu completely forgotten.
The ten best things about Samui, in no particular order:
1. Five Islands restaurant. Not exactly conveniently located, unless you’re staying at Le Meridien. But the half hour journey out from Chaweng is pleasant, and runs along some lovely shady inland forest roads. Five Islands is a lovely place for Thai food: airy, opening directly onto a little beach, with a gorgeous view out to sea and the islands that give the restaurant its name.
2. Hiring a motorbike, getting up early and riding around the island on the coastal road as the sun comes up over the coconut plantations. Good for working up an appetite for breakfast. (It’s about a two hour ride at a relaxed pace; but with its twists and turns, the island ring road is just right for a more competitive motoring event. I think someone should organise a Samui equivalent of the Isle of Man TT.)
3. Related to number two: finding a deserted bay on the west side of the island, laying a towel on the sand and having the whole beach to yourself for the day.
4. Eat Sense, in Chaweng. Another beautiful place to eat: sort of modern Thai in a hip Bangkok vein, with the advantage of having the sea four metres away from your table.
5. Muang Kulaypan hotel. I simply don’t understand why anyone would ever stay anywhere else on Samui. The rooms are very nice indeed, but apart from sleeping and showering, nobody is ever in them. The pool is just too exquisite to drag yourself away from, and the beach at the front of the hotel has to be the best stretch of sand anywhere on Chaweng’s main strip. On the sand under the spreading trees, listening to the regular wash of the waves and the fluttering of the theatrical row of red flags, it’s difficult to feel anything other than pure bliss. I want to be buried here when I die, if the living hotel guests don’t mind arranging their loungers around my headstone.
6. Budsaba, the restaurant attached to Muang Kulaypan. The best Thai restaurant in the world, I think; just next to the sea, each table with its own little private bamboo pavilion, where you can lie back on the ubiquitous triangular cushions as you consume your pomelo salad.
7. Samui Airport. Forget Chek Lap Kok or Dubai: this is the world’s best airport. Everything is outdoors, and you can be sitting on the lawn having a last Heineken two minutes before walking up the steps to the plane.
8. Villa Bianca: Bo Phut on the north coast is a lovely little stretch of tasteful bars, cafes and tiny hotels converted from old Chinese shophouses overlooking the straits between Samui and Phang Nga. Villa Bianca is the best of these: a superb Italian restaurant with a mesmerising view out to the neighbouring island.
9. Real estate. Samui is moving steadily up the food chain and there are some truly lovely properties being erected, but land is still cheap compared with Phuket. If I were to buy a block here, which I am seriously thinking about doing, I would stay away from the beach and the twee Thai-style designs, and build a small modernist mountain retreat in the hills lining the south west coast. The views would be spectacular, your nearest neighbour would be miles away, yet you’d only be 20 minutes from the nearest Boots.
10. Afternoons at The Cliff, a spectacularly positioned and incredibly stylish South African-run restaurant between Chaweng and Lamai. With the sun behind you, a chilled glass of Semillon Blanc in front of you, and a view over the rocks out to sea, you’ll mentally shred your return ticket into a million pieces and find yourself plotting ways to stay on the island forever.
I admit that I have been guilty for a while now of overlooking the appeal of the Kingdom’s travel opportunities in favour of those of the Indochinese region and further afield. I suppose it’s human nature to want to go somewhere… else. No matter how exotic the country you happen to be living in.
After seeing Thailand’s high score in the British magazine’s survey, however, I decided to refocus my attention on the country that I have been neglecting for so long. (The fact that my passport was full, and I couldn’t leave the country until I got a new one, made the decision to stay within Thai borders over the last long weekend that much easier.)
After a gruelling couple of weeks at work, and feeling the beginning of a nasty flu, there was only one option: the healthful sea air and blistering sunshine of a beach resort.
All reasonably upmarket accommodation options on Samet were full, on account of the upcoming extra day’s holiday. And anyway, as convenient as the three hour road trip from Bangkok to Ban Phe is, sometimes I’d rather just hop on a plane and get somewhere further, quicker. For the sake of a few thousand baht, an air traveller can be installed on the beaches of Phuket or Krabi with a cold Heineken in hand while the Samet-bound driver is still behind the wheel, stuck behind convoys of southbound Tesco delivery trucks.
Samui, then, was my destination, the early bird fares on the Bangkok Airways website being just too good to pass up. Early Friday morning saw me at the domestic terminal of Don Muang. Takeoff was at 6am. I stepped onto the tarmac of Samui Airport at 6:50am, avoided the wait at baggage claim with a well-packed carry-on bag, completed check-in at 7:10, and was gazing out at the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Thailand by 7:15, the nascent flu completely forgotten.
The ten best things about Samui, in no particular order:
1. Five Islands restaurant. Not exactly conveniently located, unless you’re staying at Le Meridien. But the half hour journey out from Chaweng is pleasant, and runs along some lovely shady inland forest roads. Five Islands is a lovely place for Thai food: airy, opening directly onto a little beach, with a gorgeous view out to sea and the islands that give the restaurant its name.
2. Hiring a motorbike, getting up early and riding around the island on the coastal road as the sun comes up over the coconut plantations. Good for working up an appetite for breakfast. (It’s about a two hour ride at a relaxed pace; but with its twists and turns, the island ring road is just right for a more competitive motoring event. I think someone should organise a Samui equivalent of the Isle of Man TT.)
3. Related to number two: finding a deserted bay on the west side of the island, laying a towel on the sand and having the whole beach to yourself for the day.
4. Eat Sense, in Chaweng. Another beautiful place to eat: sort of modern Thai in a hip Bangkok vein, with the advantage of having the sea four metres away from your table.
5. Muang Kulaypan hotel. I simply don’t understand why anyone would ever stay anywhere else on Samui. The rooms are very nice indeed, but apart from sleeping and showering, nobody is ever in them. The pool is just too exquisite to drag yourself away from, and the beach at the front of the hotel has to be the best stretch of sand anywhere on Chaweng’s main strip. On the sand under the spreading trees, listening to the regular wash of the waves and the fluttering of the theatrical row of red flags, it’s difficult to feel anything other than pure bliss. I want to be buried here when I die, if the living hotel guests don’t mind arranging their loungers around my headstone.
6. Budsaba, the restaurant attached to Muang Kulaypan. The best Thai restaurant in the world, I think; just next to the sea, each table with its own little private bamboo pavilion, where you can lie back on the ubiquitous triangular cushions as you consume your pomelo salad.
7. Samui Airport. Forget Chek Lap Kok or Dubai: this is the world’s best airport. Everything is outdoors, and you can be sitting on the lawn having a last Heineken two minutes before walking up the steps to the plane.
8. Villa Bianca: Bo Phut on the north coast is a lovely little stretch of tasteful bars, cafes and tiny hotels converted from old Chinese shophouses overlooking the straits between Samui and Phang Nga. Villa Bianca is the best of these: a superb Italian restaurant with a mesmerising view out to the neighbouring island.
9. Real estate. Samui is moving steadily up the food chain and there are some truly lovely properties being erected, but land is still cheap compared with Phuket. If I were to buy a block here, which I am seriously thinking about doing, I would stay away from the beach and the twee Thai-style designs, and build a small modernist mountain retreat in the hills lining the south west coast. The views would be spectacular, your nearest neighbour would be miles away, yet you’d only be 20 minutes from the nearest Boots.
10. Afternoons at The Cliff, a spectacularly positioned and incredibly stylish South African-run restaurant between Chaweng and Lamai. With the sun behind you, a chilled glass of Semillon Blanc in front of you, and a view over the rocks out to sea, you’ll mentally shred your return ticket into a million pieces and find yourself plotting ways to stay on the island forever.
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