Prachuap Khiri Khan has the following attributes:

1) Its half way down the Thai coast

2) It has a Wat on a cliff surounded one side by the ocean and three sides by monkeys

3) It’s on a direct bus route from Bangkok but then to nowhere else

4) On a hot hot Februray day it has a total population of about 27,700 Thais, and 10 westerners of which 2 of those westerners were wondering where they were and how they got there.
Our guide book informed us of attribute one, hinted at attribute two, stated the first half but neglected to mention anything about the second half of attribute three which led wholey to attribute four (well the last bit anyway – I doubt it had anything to do with the Thai population).
Our plan was to break up the long bus ride down to Krabi with a night in this pleasent provincial coastal town. After alighting from the bus at the bus station, which was more stop than station, we proceeded on foot and under heavy load to find a hotel mentioned in our guide. It was hot pink and unmissable said our guide book. After about 2km in the peak sun we decided we had missed it; not easy to do in such a small town but there you go. Sarah was struggling, her mood rapidly descending into frustration, and I had incurred blisters on my feet that were making themselves heard on each step. Then up pops a frenchman. Remember, ten tourists, two were us so he represented a 7 in 27,700 chance of both speaking english and knowing where a backpacker suitable hotel would be. He knew where the hotel was but, alas, couldn’t speak english well enough to tell us. We couldn’t speak french well enough to fathom what he was saying so he very nicely indicatated he would walk us to the two other hotels in town. Off we trudge – back the way we came – its still hot and our packs are still heavy. And trudge we do, all the way back to the exact place the bus left us at and there, not 10 yards from where we decided to turn left instead of right, were two hotels. Hotel one had a nice open front lobby area which proved very handy for Sarah’s imminent colapse and tears of frustration when we found out it was full. The nice people there sat her down and gave her a glass of water whilst I went, bloody knee and all (for I had fallen over carrying 40lbs and skinned my knee like a 9 year old falling off his bike) to the other hotel.
Oh joy, they had a room and I paid gladly even though it was a little rustic. Fan, wonky bed, half partition separating the squat toilet from the bed, no sink and a feeling that it would only be quiet between the hours of 2am and 4am. It was the last room in this two hotel town and I’m too damn old to sleep on the beach. Sarah has written an ode to this and other squat toilets so be sure to read her post.
Now we were here and situated, we had to find out how to leave. It happens that this was the wrong town to pick as a transit hub. A hub implies spokes but this was more like the transport equivalent of a wheel cut from a cross section of tree trunk. No buses went to where we where going and we either had to go somewhere else or back to Bangkok and catch a different bus down. But then, shimering in the early evening heat, was a train station. We wandered over and with luck the ticket guy spoke great english. However, the train also did not go where we wanted to be but it did go to the Malaysian border. Over a very pleasent dinner (no tourists to be seen) we decided that we didn’t really want to go Krabi anyway and, in fact, we were quite bored of Thailand period. Taking the next overnight train to Malaysia would kill two birds with one stone so we decided to do that. Once that decision was made and the tickets bought we were free to enjoy everything this nothing little town had to offer.
It turns out that this nothing little town had something to offer anyway. Once we peeled back the covers we found the town had quite a character. A little night market selling the finest grilled squid and pud see mao we’d had in the whole of Thailand, a wat surrounded by monkeys who would gladly take food from people’s hand, a celebration of something that was cause for a street fair and a school trip where the students came over to test their english and then their teachers did the same. All in all, it turned out to be our most Thai experience in the whole country and showed us that this is a place where people are happy and interested to meet visitors. I wonder if the other eight tourists also had such a good time.
Adendum: Heat, sun and heavy packs don’t mix. Since this episode we have spent a lot of money shipping even more stuff home.

Still shocking, after all this time, every time I nudge open the bathroom door

To see you there, low and resembling more closely a hole in the ground.

Sometimes you are a hole in the ground.

It pains me to admit to you that in this position it’s more comfortable to………go.

But your footpads are always wet and provide no traction.

Why must my feet be so close to the action, anyway?

Impossible to balance without touching the wall but sometimes there is no sink at all, to wash away the germs.

But I’m tougher than you think, oh glaring squat toilet.

You will not break me, I’ve conquered harder.

And though I know it’s not ideal and I’m not a defender or a lover,

I will gladly leave your draconian gape for the land of hover or seat cover.

There now follows a bunch of random mind wanderings concerning but perhaps not limited to my experiences in the country of Thailand. Although not by any means an authority on the country or its people, I shall attempt to write in a style that supposes I know more than I do. Without further ado:
The King: Thailand is mad for it’s king. He is held in such high regard that the Lonely Planet Guide tells a story of a tourist who once stepped on a bank note, therefore on the king himself, and was promptly arrested. Such a story remains in the realm of incredulity until one observes the passion these people have for their monarch. Today is Monday. Itself not an amazing day but to the Thais it’s a day to wear a yellow shirt. Why yellow? Because yellow is the color of the king’s birthday. Is today the king’s birthday? Nope – but he was born on a Monday so millions of people wear yellow to celebrate this EVERY Monday. Ironically, his wife, the queen, was born on a Friday but she must not as well liked because less people wear blue shirts on her day. The king is everywhere, or rather his image is everywhere. There are about five stock “official” images of the king and I have named them thus:

1) Benevolent King – The king stands looking quite pope like, one hand raised in part blessing, part wave.

2) Camera King – The king, in “business casual” attire, stands looking off to the right, pointing in the general direction of something interesting. Around his neck is slung a late model Canon digital camera. I wonder if Canon paid for the endorsement.

3) Regal King – The king and queen stand in their regal attire with a somewhat “dear in headlight” look on their faces. Both are looking quite old in contrast to their other pictures.

4) The Queen’s Favourite – Another side by side image in which the queen looks about thirty years younger than she really is but the king is his proper age. The king’s eyes are a little squiffy in this one and it has caused me to look at all images of him to check if they really are or if this was some kind of printing error.

5) Warrior King – A younger portrait in which the king sits in his formal military attire, sword by his side. Quite honestly, it doesn’t look very war like, rather he looks like a cheap east Asian copy of mid 19th century European cavalry officer.

However, one must admire a people’s devotion to their monarch. Thailand has had 16 military coups in the last 100 years including the one that happened last fall so the king represents a constant, the voice of reason and wisdom in a time of turmoil. That’s not a bad thing – unlike his son, the prince, who we learnt today is not very popular. Much like in the UK I suspect these people are hoping the king hangs in there so his son is too old to reign and the far more popular grandchild can, as it were, take the reigns.
Tourists: It’s a lovely country spoiled by the tourists. They’re everywhere. The last two weeks I’ve seen more more white faces than Asians. On our little beach getaway they were just plain ugly. Old, leathery brown woman wearing thongs. Ass (arse) checks hanging out everywhere. Beer guts – guts so large that the speedos hung to nothing but a wing and a prayer. Oh – speedos – they’re alive and well and should be banned. The most beautiful beaches in the world ruined by the most ugliest people. I guess that’s Ying and Yang. The standard of tourist has not been that high either. In the more adventurous countries, like and forwarded minded people gathered but here the tourist is interested only in getting a lot for not a lot. Everyone speaks English and the beer is cheap – this means a lot of people who “like to travel” but only if its a warmer version of their own country.

Food: The best food comes from street vendors and high end restaurants. Strangely though, we’ve found none of the latter so have been eating mainly from the former. However, due to the mass tourist system most restaurants serve the same same thing: pad thai and it’s variants, pizza and fruit shake – all of it sweeter than one would like. Nope, if you want Thai food, eat like a Thai. An evening meal from the street costs about $3 for two whereas it’s going to be up to three times more expensive if you eat with the other westerners.
The Bus: There are three main types of bus here. The VIP, the Air Con and the Ordinary. The VIP is just for tourists with their ultra-modern, double decked, reclining seat luxury running from one tourist spot to another. For example, Koh Chang ferry dock to Khao San Road in Bangkok; both places devoid of Thais (bus driver excepted). “Air-con” class is how the ordinary Thais travel long distances. Older but air-con’d, vinyl reclining, pee in a can type buses. Cheap, relatively fast and very colorful. Lastly the ordinary buses, no air except through the window (therefore no air) and all of humanity aboard. We had no need to take an ordinary bus but I’m sure it would have been fun for about 30 minutes.
Music: You can’t talk about buses without talking about music. Karaoke – loud and proud. So loud I can hear it through my iPod; it never stops - on one occasion, 10 hours trapped on bus with bad Thai karaoke. The videos would suggest all the songs are the same, moon struck young lovers denied their ultimate feelings for each other. Often set in a work like environment such as an office, one workmate has the hots for another but the big bad boss man is mean to one of them which makes the other mad and sad until the work day is over. Then it’s time to jump on your mobile phone, call your one true love and visit the local market together. No kissing or holding hand though. For those of us whose lyrical Thai is not up to par, the karaoke video phonetically subtitles the words so Sarah and I needn’t feel left out from the ten hour “Kickin Back With Kao’s Karaoke” marathon.
And so…. In summary: Thailand is a lovely place with lovely people if the only the people like us would leave it alone.

The deep, what mysteries does it hold in it’s really deep depths? Wet, it’s so very wet and salty too but somehow familiarly strange and demanding in it’s unforgiving inability to allow us to breath underwater. I, Captain Dave led team Lukacs Browne on an underwater adventure that can only be described as adventurous and wet.
Without the steady assuredness of our exploring vessel, we were forced to charter a boat from the port of Bang Boa on the island of Ko Chang midst the Gulf of Thailand. First mate Sarah, deciding that the water here to be just too salty for her liking, manned the beach as Captain Dave enrolled in an immersion course on being immersed under the water.

The is the log from that fateful journey:
Day One: The local guides (from Germany, Belgium and Norway) gave a one day briefing on the safety measures required for deep sea exploration and then decided, with my obvious knowledge and experience, I was ready to descend the depths all the way to the ocean floor, six meters below the bow of our fearless research/pleasure vessel.

Day Two: On the sea bed I demonstrated my innate skill for the life aquatic and proceeded through my drills of removing the perfectly functional pieces of equipment necessary for the maintenance of my life underwater, proving I could indeed survive without them, albeit in a one breath squinty eye kind of way. With my drills successfully performed my guide decided to drag me round the local coral reef, I could have swam myself if not for a slight buoyancy issue where staying at one depth was proving temporarily tricky for this salty old sea dog. During the debrief with first mate Lukacs I was ready to call an end to the mission. Could the perils of this deep sea mission plus the perils of my small dose of food poisoning cause this most important of research opportunities to be forsaken?
Day Three: Both the sea bottom and my bottom were wonderful. Obviously the buoyancy issue that hindered me the previous day was caused by excess gas in my insides not inside my buoyancy control device (BCD). Two wonderful dives through thousands of fish of many colors. Stingrays, baracuda, parrot fish – truly the life aquatic.
Day Four: Two more dives and some beer. First Mate Lukacs was there, snorkel gear donned to document for herself the deepness of both marine life and water. Upon successful mission end your fearless captain was awarded the credentials to dive the great oceans of the world and team Lukacs Browne retired to the “debriefing” room for quiet libations and celebrations of another fine day out here on the ocean oh so blue.