A Few Touristy Days on Phuket

Phuket. Pronounced “pu-ket” if you’re from around these parts, and pronounced “Fuck-et” if you’re English.

The boat from Phi Phi landed us at around 4pm. We then got a minibus to the Beehive hostel.

It had a mirrored ceiling. I didn’t ask the driver how he used this when he was off duty…

Our first few nights would be spent in Phuket Old Town. After an hour in the minibus we arrived at the hostel. The receptionist was very helpful and gave us a map of things to do in the area. As it was late, we had only time to visit a night market she recommended. It was a proper local market – Andy and I were the only Westerners there. There wasn’t much that interested us, but I did enjoy some nostalgia…

Memorieeeees. After this we went back to the hostel for an early night. Andy had somehow booked us two beds for four people, so we ended up having two double beds to ourselves. The room had aircon and comfy beds, but the bathroom wall did not reach the ceiling… So there was often a smell to contend with…

The next morning we took the map and went to find some sites/sights. First up, a temple.

And it was closed. We could only enjoy it from the gates. So we carried on walking, in the direction of a place on the map called Monkey Hill.

On the way we came across another temple, and this one was open.

It was hot, but Andy and I changed into trousers, cos you’ve got to at these places. After changing we tried to go up some stairs to the temple itself, but some locals said we weren’t allowed. Yay for not being Buddhists.

We carried on up the hill and found another temple.

It was called พระบรมธาตุเจดีย์ เทสรังสีญาณสัมปันโนนุสรณ์. I don’t know either. But it was pretty.

We returned to the road up Monkey Hill. There were markings on the path that told us it was about 3km to the top. In this heat, that was a tall order. But at points, it offered some good views.

Did I mention it was hot? Cos it was. I was sweating like a fat guy in an all-you-can-eat buffet.

After about 2km, I was fucked. Thankfully, Monkey Hill finally gifted us with monkeys.

Macaques, to be precise. Look! Here’s me with said macaques.

There are signs all the way up Monkey Hill reminding people that these are wild animals, and can be aggressive. Yet still, this woman thought it would be a good idea to let a baby monkey on her head.

I really, really wanted it to piss on her. Or shit on her. Or for the mum to go ape-shit (pun intended) and rescue the baby. Eventually the baby macaque just jumped off. Anti-climax.

I’ve seen some TripAdvisor reviews complaining that there were no monkeys around when they visited. I saw some identical reviews for the Monkey Trail in Ao Nang. Sometimes you just have to sit and marvel at people who don’t understand that monkeys are wild fucking animals and do as they please. Anyway, I digress…

We could have carried on to the top of Monkey Hill, where you can find some TV and radio stations, and a viewpoint. But I was absolutely boiling and starting to feel ill from it. A nice reminder of how unfit I am. Thankfully, Andy didn’t fancy a climb either so we descended.

We returned to the hostel and then went for some food in the shopping mall around the corner. This was very much a place for locals, so prices on food were cheap. There was a food hall called the Limelight, where you could get a decent meal for just 60-70 baht. We had all our Phuket Old Town meals here!

There was a bench where you could sit next to some statues.

Twas at the Limelight I discovered an amazing ice cream.

A strawberry sundae from McDonald’s. It was absolutely delicious. Andy then told me they do these in England and I thought about all the opportunities I had missed.

Probably the best thing to do in Phuket Old Town is visit the Sunday Walking Street Market. On the way we saw a dragon.

Night markets are a very common attraction in Thailand, but this one was really good.

The street was really long, full of people and full of bargains. There were loads of musicians too. Definitely a must if you’re in Phuket Old Town. Andy bought a bandanna.

Doesn’t he look smart?

The next morning we headed from Phuket Old Town, across the island to Patong – the party sector. When many Brits think of Phuket, they think of Patong – not the culture of Old Town.

This place sounded very interesting but we walked on to our hostel.

Because the Beehive in Old Town had been so good, we booked a place called Beehive Magenta in Patong, thinking it would be similar. It wasn’t. The first night they failed to give me a blanket and I had to sleep under my shirt. Also pretty sure my sheets had not been changed after the last person to sleep on them. But it was the cheapest place in Patong, so we stayed there.

Twas probably good that we stayed at the cheapest place, cos Patong is expensive. It’s a tourist hotspot, so finding a cheap meal and drink is bloody tough. Also, down on the main road, Thanon Bangla, there are so few public toilets and every one you find is one you have to pay for. IS THIS LONDON OR SOMETHING??

My overriding impression of Patong was that it was the love child of Bangkok and Blackpool. Insistent street vendors had returned, as had the sex shows and the prostitutes. We gave the Bangla a miss on the first night.

Patong does have a nice beach and on our second day we basked under grey skies.

And then got piss wet through in a rainstorm. It’s definitely the quickest way to empty a beach of people.

Once again, finding a toilet on the beach is impossible if you don’t want to pay for it. I had come to the beach in my shorts, so needed to find somewhere to get changed. The ONLY place you can use a toilet/get changed for free is a McDonald’s. At least you can get a strawberry sundae when you’re done.

People come to Phuket for two things. The beach and the nightlife. It was time to check off the latter. We walked up and down the Bangla searching for the very best deals on booze and making the most of Happy Hours. This is a must if you need to save your pennies!

One bar called BarFunk offered bottles of Heineken (usually quite expensive out here compared to the local Changs and Leos) for 50 (or maybe 60?) baht. It also featured a woman and a bloke in lycra performing some aerobatics in a hoop hanging from the ceiling.

We were enjoying a chilled beer when some girls got on the bar and started funking.

We spent a few hours in BarFunk, completely sober. We danced amongst a right mix of people: locals, Chinese tourists, a dickhead steroid addict, old people, families and girls obviously too young to be in a club.

Next up we visited a Stockholm Syndrome bar (the same chain in which Andy got himself fucked on Phi Phi) and bought buckets of booze. This was much more our kind of place, with a limbo competition and chilled Brits and Europeans.

We met two English girls, with whom we left with to visit another bar – the giant Tiger bar at the top end of the Bangla street. Unsurprisingly, all the alcohol Andy had drunk hit him in one go, and any chances he had with one of the girls vanished like a unguarded plate of chips. He then duly wandered off. I walked home alone.

Soon, Andy arrived. A local woman had given him a lift home on her moped. Tbf, this is a very tame Andy Cox story, but another example of his boomerang nature.

I managed to finally get a blanket for my bed and it was literally just a towel. A small towel.

I suppose you get what you pay for at Beehive Magenta – not much.

Day 3 in Patong was a hangover day, once again chilling on a beach under grey clouds. We saw another shop with an interesting name.

We did not enter the Pink Pussy.

It was nice to leave Phuket the next day. Although the night market in Old Town was decent, there wasn’t that much else to do. And whilst Patong had a great beach, the lack of toilets was annoying. As was the hiked up prices. This is a tourist area, so if you’re doing the traveller thing, it’s best you limit your time here.

Our taxi driver arrived to pick us up and it quickly became clear he was a mad man. No exaggeration. We were his penultimate pick up and he was running late. He whizzed us through traffic like a lunatic to his final pick up – where the passengers were not ready. We waited at the hotel for ages. The driver finally blew up and tried to leave without the couple because of their lateness.

Mr Green Top was having none of it and standing in front of the minibus as the driver revved the engine. Finally, Mr Green Top and his high maintenance wife (we believe the cause of the lateness) were allowed on. The Mad Driver now entered a new level of lunacy, so much so that the European woman sat next to me pleaded for him to calm down and not risk our lives. This was like throwing an aerosol into a bonfire.

And so began a three hour minibus ride of hell to Krabi. It was like being stuck on a rollercoaster.

Somehow, we didn’t crash (despite a few very near misses). At Krabi we boarded another bus (driven by a sane man) to Koh Lanta…