It seems to happen to me more and more often, maybe as I get older - that I arrive somewhere too late. It's like meeting someone, falling in love, and then realising that they haven't actually been the person you fell in love with for some years, maybe even decades. Railay is a case in point.
Everyone I asked about Railay said, "Oh, Laylay - the most beautiful beach in Thailand. Lovely, lovely." Always, dear reader, interrogate your source in depth. Had I asked "and when were you last there", the answer would probably have been "oh, two, three, maybe even four years ago". Since then, it's suffered a migration of tourists from such places as the Costas del Sol and Blanca. Hell - with highlights.
The Krabi peninsular, along which lie Railay and neighbouring Ton Sai, is beautiful, for sure.
Inaccessible by land or air, its dazzling white sands, azure waters and soaring cliffs can only be reached by longtail boat. These are, naturally, driven by maniacs who cram them with passengers to squeeze extra cash out of each trip. Many boats have few - in some cases no - lifejackets, and sit low in the water as the boatmen speed back and forth, dropping off their dazed cargo at various beaches enroute. I arrived at Au Nang from Krabi by minibus (a real bile-riser; a 14-seater songthaew packed with 15 tourists and twelve children dangling from the back) and was fascinated by a skyscape that somehow resembled a vast and hungry monster, rampaging across a leaden sky. Thunder rumbled across the bay, muffled and distant. The occasional flash on the horizon signalled a far-off storm.
The Perfect Storm
The storm proved not to be far off at all and, from underneath the small scarlet tarpaulin, which seemed to glow brightly against the black and swollen sea, I experienced horizontal rain for the first time. The effect was accentuated by the speed of the boat, and we simultaneously cursed the deluge while remaining grateful that the rain was actually warm, and that we were all wearing beach clothes. Lightening flashed across the horizon, flickering silver streaks across the water. Little white horses reared atop the waves, signalling probable disaster, but we reached the shore in fifteen minutes, drenched and exhilarated. Within a half-hour, it was sunny and warm again.
The Krabi peninsular, along which lie Railay and neighbouring Ton Sai, is beautiful, for sure.

The Perfect Storm

0 Responses to “L'Enfer, c'est l'autres”