Usually I would like some extra time in Korea. I love the food; the city is developed and full of vibrant energy; and it is an enjoyable place to walk. All of these details are lacking in the day-to-day Ulaanbaatar lifestyle. Walking outside in the bitter cold is, after all, a bit like getting kicked in the face. Some areas of the city feel more hostile than engaging; the smart citizen practices constant vigilance toward pickpockets, swerving drivers and dangerously slick walking surfaces. Still, on this day, I had no desire to be wandering around Seoul slurping down noodle soup and munching on delectable dumplings. I just wanted to get to Phuket, drink beer, and lay on the beach.
Thankfully, the day passed rather quickly. We arrived at the airport five hours before our flight, having already had our fill of Seoul and just wanting to get on with our journey. A taxi driver even managed to talk us into his car as we waited at the bus stop for a pittance above the bus fare. I jumped on the opportunity, and I am usually solidly a "bus" guy when I have the choice in a place with a well-developed public transportation network. At this time, I just wanted to get on my way. Maybe the driver sensed my urgency; he careened down the highway at speeds usually reserved for stock cars and symmetrical damped ovals. There were a couple times I feared the brakes would not stop us on time; but, in the end, we arrived at the airport all together; our luggage still sitting in the flapping trunk where it did not quite fit.
The long layover only made landing in Phuket that much more exciting. We finally arrived! After picking up some baht, we hired a taxi and set off for Karon Beach, the resort town that would be our home for the next week. The streets were dark at 2 am; we passed young Thais zipping around on motorbikes. Most of the journey, however, was quiet and endless. There was not a whole lot of late night gallivanting in this part of town; just some quiet, sleepy streets, and, here and there, a 7-11 still open for business. Our driver stopped for some caffeine; he still had to drive back.
The next morning was muggy and glorious. I slept terribly, tossing and turning like someone who had already spent most of the night on a plane and had already given up on any quality slumber; perhaps because I was that very person. After grumbling my way out of bed, rubbing at my blood shot, aching eyes, and stubbing my toe on the bathroom door; I opened our apartment balcony and reveled in the heat. It was like an oven outside; I was excited because I actually hope to return from this trip a well done rotisserie version of my former self. Also, I could smell the ocean and hear the wind rustling through the palm trees below. I always get excited when I can smell the ocean.
Karon Beach is a Phuket resort town geared more toward families and older tourists, or anybody looking to avoid the hedonism and debauchery of the classic Thai vacation. There were no prostitutes and there was only a small tattoo parlor on the main strip. Fruit stands were on every corner selling bananas, mangos, and coconuts. European vacationers zipped by on rented scooters (mostly, they were Russian; we were surrounded by Russians). On our first day, I found a beverage vendor on the sidewalk and bought a Singha beer; feeling the tangy refreshment slide down my throat, I knew I had found it. I was in paradise.
The beach had that perfect, soft, white sand that makes a good postcard picture. Beach umbrellas and recliners extended from one end of the beach to the other. For 200 baht, you could rent a chair for the day, coming and going as you pleased. Of course, why leave the beach when there was plenty to eat and drink from the vendors who were set up on the edge of the sand under the shade of the palm trees? Beach hawkers strolled along the beach from end to end selling everything from bathing suits to Buddhist statues. In the distance, a person was parasailing behind a motorboat, floating above the perfect waters with the best beach view of anyone.
We sat in our beach chairs complete slathered with sun screen, reading books and sipping drinks. We had bought those little baby bananas from a vendor for later snacking. They tasted sharp and tangy, different than the bananas in stores in the U.S. Before long, we ventured into the water, which was warm and very salty. Would you figure, the ocean was salty? I had read that Phuket beaches have dangerous undertow; nobody at the beach swam too far from shore, but bobbing in the shallows as the waves rolled to the shore was perfect as far as I was concerned. All of a sudden, that never-ending Mongolian winter seems a long ways away.
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