Return to Thailand

D im sum for breakfast? Did I expect that the people here ate only Thai food? “Locals do this on their day off,” says my guide, Rotarian Sutin Jamallsawat, as we make our way through a heaping plate. “On a workday, it is just coffee at the office.” The Sew Mai Yok Restaurant, where we’re dining at a sidewalk table, is only open in the morning, he notes. “But it is the best in Krabi.”

Jamallsawat, 45, is a past president and charter member of the 17-year-old Rotary club here. His hometown of Krabi, Thailand, sits on the Andaman Sea, just east of world-famous Phuket Island, which attracts a mad rush of tourists each year. The once-sleepy town of Krabi, however, is the rising star. The local airport transformed practically overnight from a solitary strip of tarmac into a bustling portal when it began accepting international flights in 2005. Bangkok, Thailand’s capital, is nearly 500 miles north.

A lawyer by trade, Jamallsawat is an excellent cook for those who know him – which is nearly everyone, apparently. As we cross the street to the Maharaj market, he stops every 10 feet to exchange pleasantries and pick up food to prepare lunch. He smiles as he leads me through his favorite place, the large pavilion full of fresh seafood where he’ll find his next dinner. Shrimp, squid, tuna, shark, grouper, mussels – the selection seems endless. We then pass to another area with mounds of flowers awaiting purchase for Buddhist prayer offerings.

A cornucopia of fruits also is at hand for pocket-change prices. Some are familiar – mangoes and papayas – but there are also exotic selections, such as maprang, which resembles a small mango but tastes vaguely like a peach, and the beach-ball-size jackfruit. Durian is a local favorite, but many hotels ban it. The putrid smell scares some away, but the taste compels fans to take a breath and dive in.

Stunning scenery

But it’s not all about the food here. The people are famously hospitable. And the area’s natural beauty is stunning. Towering limestone rock formations thrust out of the earth as megalithic islands burst from the turquoise waters. Reefs rich with colorful soft coral teem with an array of sea life, and the jungles twitter with a menagerie of monkeys and exotic birds.

“You come to one place, and you can see everything,” Jamallsawat says. “Caves, beaches, waterfalls – both cold and hot! Temples, animals …” he continues.

In the early afternoon, we drive out to nearby Tha Pom Khlong Song Nam nature reserve, where a crystalline stream winds its way through mangroves to the sea. In Thai, khlong song nam means “two water canal,” reflecting the reserve’s confluence of fresh and salt water at high tide. Magnificent stone hills surround it, and a boardwalk trail follows alongside the water. It’s an idyllic spot for a shaded swim, but come early. “In Thailand, the temperature never changes,” my guide says. “It’s always about 80 to 90 degrees. The locals come here by midday to escape the heat.”

The main industries here used to be palm oil and rubber, and on the way back to town, as we pass the perfect rows of trees laid out in fields along the highway, Jamallsawat tells me: “There was once a joke: If you have two children, you give the palm tree land to the one you love, and to the child you hate, you give him beach.” Those unloved children are now suddenly rich, as beachfront land prices have skyrocketed.

The islands – there are 130 off the coast of Krabi Province – are a must-see. Tour companies tout four- or five-island day trips out to Hong Island and its picturesque neighbors, where the pure white sands and dramatic landscape are givens. The Phi Phi Islands, two hours out by ferry, are a top draw for beach lovers. Phi Phi Don is the largest and the only one with hotels. Though the main beach has a postcard-perfect location, with a narrow stretch of sand nestled between towering rocks, it has a very tragic story.

After the storm

On 26 December 2004, a tsunami inundated the islands and much of the Krabi coastline, killing 8,000 in Thailand, more than 700 of them in this province – though that number, Jamallsawat says, reflects merely those bodies that were found. Fortunately, a tsunami warning system is now in place to help prevent future tragedies.

Rotary, of course, was deeply involved in the disaster relief effort. Jamallsawat takes me to a collection of stilt houses on the mainland, constructed for surviving families by Operation Rotary Cares. The Thailand-based group built 328 houses in the area. “Donations came from around the world,” he says. Rotarians not only helped replace many of the fishing boats that were lost but also set up some fisheries along the coast. The devastation will never be forgotten, but the international support sparked a quick redevelopment. As efforts continue to help the survivors rebuild their lives, the revenue generated by tourism is playing a key role.

Jamallsawat lays out a map to show me where else I should go during my week in Krabi. Ten miles west, just outside of Ao Nang, is Hat Noppharat Thara, a 2-mile stretch of sand popular with Thai picnickers and swimmers. “At low tide, you can walk from the beach to a couple of small, nearby islands,” he says. To the south of Krabi is Khao Phra Bang Khram nature reserve, with a hiking trail and another fabulous swimming hole. Just down the road is the thermal waterfall of Klong Thom, a cascade-cum-Jacuzzi in the shade of the jungle.

Though there are resorts throughout the province, Jamallsawat recommends the many mom and pop guesthouses and bungalows. Prices can be very cheap, as low as US$15 a night. Jamallsawat has guided me to Thara Guesthouse, right on the waterfront near the ferry to the Phi Phi Islands, and I feel as though I’m staying with a friend’s family.

Pancakes and mermaids

In the evening, we meet for dinner. The street vendors come out in droves at night, offering a full menu of dishes that are fresh, cheap, and delicious. Up until now, I’ve eaten most of my meals at the curb – spicy soups, fried noodles with seafood, and fresh vegetables – but tonight Jamallsawat takes me to Ruan Thip Restaurant. Locals flock to it, and the menu offers a full range of traditional Thai dishes you probably won’t find at your takeout joint back home. Jamallsawat orders for me, explaining that I’m about to eat the most delicious roasted pork I’ve ever had. He’s right, of course.
We end the day at the best roti (Thai pancake) stand in Krabi. The address? “On the sidewalk by the bookstore at the intersection with the caveman traffic lights.”

I ask Jamallsawat for something else to do in the coming days. “I like fishing,” he says. “No license required. I used to fish so much that my wife complained.” He gives his mild smile. “She thought I found a mermaid.”

There may not be any mermaids here, but there’s certainly an enchanted allure to this magical corner of Thailand.