An island and a hill
by prudence on 13-Jan-2013
A weekend off, after a hard week's work.
First destination: Ko Yor, the island that lies between Songkhla and the peninsula, and is linked to both by bridges.
I've mentioned Songkhla's picturesque qualities before, but really, I never cease to be struck by its effortless charm. In the 10 minutes it takes to walk to the main road to catch a songthaew, you glimpse a host of pretty things you've never noticed before:
-- a beautiful blue spirit house surrounded by greenery;
-- a row of bright and sparkling pans, all ready to display the day's newly cooked food;
-- the sunlight catching the little stupas of the neighbouring monastery;
-- multi-coloured taffeta ribbons encompassing the trunk of a little tree;
-- a knot of gorgeously arrayed youngsters emerging from one of the many costume-hire shops...
I don't know how you catch a songthaew without help. (A songthaew is one of those ute-like vehicles with the back half replaced by a frame, a roof, and two or three parallel benches. They function like local buses.) I'm slow at reading, but I know the Thai letters, and I know none of the letters on the front of any of the songthaews said "Ko Yor". Nevertheless, go to Ko Yor one of them did. You just have to swallow your pride, dig out your terrible Thai, and ask someone at the bus-stop. This serves two purposes: it confirms there will be a songthaew going to Ko Yor from this particular spot; and it mobilizes people to look out for the one you need.
They're not comfortable vehicles, songthaew, but at 30 baht for two each way to Ko Yor, they're a fine way to get a short distance.
We passed the temple with the big reclining Buddha just after the first bridge. But we stuck on until just before the second bridge, our goal being Thaksin University's Folklore Museum. We approached this from the back, as we got off a bit early, and I categorically refused to walk along the busy highway. But the back way gives you good views out over Songkhla Lake, with the fish farms, the fish nets, the lakeside restaurants, the houses (if that's what they are) out in the water -- and of the museum complex itself, up on the hill, looking more like a big resort than a cultural centre.
For reasons we didn't fathom, the museum was hosting a Big Event, and everyone got in for free -- even the farang. Surely the most memorable part of the collection must be the coconut-graters. Their function is to hold the sturdy rough metal plate required to grate a coconut, but their form ranges all the way from the cute to the downright lewd. Most memorable has to be the female figure who kneels forward in a doggy position, with an expression of astonishment on her face -- presumably at finding she has a coconut grater sprouting out of her backside. It was a big surprise, I have to say, to find this village earthiness so freely on display.
A huge collection of beads, some very ancient, was a reminder that some human artefacts hardly change over time. People still sell and wear beads just like these. I also particularly liked the displays of fabrics, keris, and shadow-puppets -- all testifying (as had the museum in Songkhla itself) to the fluid cultural bonds that criss-cross this region.
There's a cafe on the premises where you can revive yourself half-way round with iced tea and banana muffins.
And for lunch, the breezy deck of a simple lakeside restaurant made a great place to eat fresh seafood salad.
The second destination of the weekend was Tang Kuan Hill, in Songkhla itself. Our approach was via the main road, but on a Sunday morning, an enormous market monopolizes several of its lanes.
The hill is 105 metres high. We opted to climb instead of taking the lift, and progressed grandly up naga-banistered steps past a pavilion endowed by a former monarch. At the top, if you go early enough (and avoid the always irritating monkeys), you will find blissful peace and quiet. At any time of day, you can enjoy wonderful views out over the town, the sea, and the lake; and a pleasing combination of stupas, courtyards, and a lighthouse, all dating back about a century.
There's an abandoned modern building that faces out to sea, and here we sat for a while, enjoying the breeze, the birds, and the butterflies, and watching the guys with their radio-controlled model aircraft down below, before being driven off by those little scourges the macaques. The trouble with these animals is that, while fiendish, they are also cute, and we had to pause to watch them playing in the pools on the way down -- leaping in with a huge splash, swimming, pushing each other, and generally looking as though they were having a fantastic time.
We did a circuit on Songkhla's tourist "tram" next. Which all turned out to be a little farcical. First we were told there was a group tour, and therefore no 10 am departure. Then we were told there was a 10 am departure. So we climbed aboard, only to be joined a little later by what felt like hundreds of little girls and young women, all beautifully headscarved. Onto the companion tram behind climbed the little boys and young men. So there we were -- the only two farang in a sea of Thai Muslims; Nigel the only man in a sea of femininity. After a prayer, we set off to a rousing rendition of something, but then the singing had to stop so the commentary could begin. Someone on an accompanying motorbike seemed to be taking photos, so I hope we've not got into too many, and I hope we're not looking too embarrassed in the ones we haven't escaped.
We offloaded the group tour at the aquarium, and completed the rest of the circuit, back to the museum, at slightly lower volume.
Fifteen minutes or so will do you for the Phathammarong Museum, which displays memorabilia from the household of Prem Tinsulanonda, former prime minister and current head of the privy council. General Prem's father was the jailer (phathammarong) in Songkhla, and the building, begun in 1987 and opened in 1989, is modelled on the son's descriptions of the jailer's house. You will find little about General Prem's career in here, but the reconstructed traditional-style house, with its soft wooden floors and walls, makes you think you could live in something like that yourself...
Lunch at J-Glass rounded off the day. (Remember we'd started out very early...) This place has the benefit of air-con, and a menu written in English, so we could venture beyond the fairly limited repertoire I can order with my Thai. We had an interesting dish that reminded me of nasi kerabu -- not because the rice was blue, but because the shrimp-paste fried rice was surrounded by little piles of items (green mango, sweet pork, thin omelette, chili, onion, beans, and cucumber). A very nice combo, which looked something like this.
Two great days... :) Work tomorrow... :(
First destination: Ko Yor, the island that lies between Songkhla and the peninsula, and is linked to both by bridges.
I've mentioned Songkhla's picturesque qualities before, but really, I never cease to be struck by its effortless charm. In the 10 minutes it takes to walk to the main road to catch a songthaew, you glimpse a host of pretty things you've never noticed before:
-- a beautiful blue spirit house surrounded by greenery;
-- a row of bright and sparkling pans, all ready to display the day's newly cooked food;
-- the sunlight catching the little stupas of the neighbouring monastery;
-- multi-coloured taffeta ribbons encompassing the trunk of a little tree;
-- a knot of gorgeously arrayed youngsters emerging from one of the many costume-hire shops...
I don't know how you catch a songthaew without help. (A songthaew is one of those ute-like vehicles with the back half replaced by a frame, a roof, and two or three parallel benches. They function like local buses.) I'm slow at reading, but I know the Thai letters, and I know none of the letters on the front of any of the songthaews said "Ko Yor". Nevertheless, go to Ko Yor one of them did. You just have to swallow your pride, dig out your terrible Thai, and ask someone at the bus-stop. This serves two purposes: it confirms there will be a songthaew going to Ko Yor from this particular spot; and it mobilizes people to look out for the one you need.
They're not comfortable vehicles, songthaew, but at 30 baht for two each way to Ko Yor, they're a fine way to get a short distance.
We passed the temple with the big reclining Buddha just after the first bridge. But we stuck on until just before the second bridge, our goal being Thaksin University's Folklore Museum. We approached this from the back, as we got off a bit early, and I categorically refused to walk along the busy highway. But the back way gives you good views out over Songkhla Lake, with the fish farms, the fish nets, the lakeside restaurants, the houses (if that's what they are) out in the water -- and of the museum complex itself, up on the hill, looking more like a big resort than a cultural centre.
For reasons we didn't fathom, the museum was hosting a Big Event, and everyone got in for free -- even the farang. Surely the most memorable part of the collection must be the coconut-graters. Their function is to hold the sturdy rough metal plate required to grate a coconut, but their form ranges all the way from the cute to the downright lewd. Most memorable has to be the female figure who kneels forward in a doggy position, with an expression of astonishment on her face -- presumably at finding she has a coconut grater sprouting out of her backside. It was a big surprise, I have to say, to find this village earthiness so freely on display.
A huge collection of beads, some very ancient, was a reminder that some human artefacts hardly change over time. People still sell and wear beads just like these. I also particularly liked the displays of fabrics, keris, and shadow-puppets -- all testifying (as had the museum in Songkhla itself) to the fluid cultural bonds that criss-cross this region.
There's a cafe on the premises where you can revive yourself half-way round with iced tea and banana muffins.
And for lunch, the breezy deck of a simple lakeside restaurant made a great place to eat fresh seafood salad.
The second destination of the weekend was Tang Kuan Hill, in Songkhla itself. Our approach was via the main road, but on a Sunday morning, an enormous market monopolizes several of its lanes.
The hill is 105 metres high. We opted to climb instead of taking the lift, and progressed grandly up naga-banistered steps past a pavilion endowed by a former monarch. At the top, if you go early enough (and avoid the always irritating monkeys), you will find blissful peace and quiet. At any time of day, you can enjoy wonderful views out over the town, the sea, and the lake; and a pleasing combination of stupas, courtyards, and a lighthouse, all dating back about a century.
There's an abandoned modern building that faces out to sea, and here we sat for a while, enjoying the breeze, the birds, and the butterflies, and watching the guys with their radio-controlled model aircraft down below, before being driven off by those little scourges the macaques. The trouble with these animals is that, while fiendish, they are also cute, and we had to pause to watch them playing in the pools on the way down -- leaping in with a huge splash, swimming, pushing each other, and generally looking as though they were having a fantastic time.
We did a circuit on Songkhla's tourist "tram" next. Which all turned out to be a little farcical. First we were told there was a group tour, and therefore no 10 am departure. Then we were told there was a 10 am departure. So we climbed aboard, only to be joined a little later by what felt like hundreds of little girls and young women, all beautifully headscarved. Onto the companion tram behind climbed the little boys and young men. So there we were -- the only two farang in a sea of Thai Muslims; Nigel the only man in a sea of femininity. After a prayer, we set off to a rousing rendition of something, but then the singing had to stop so the commentary could begin. Someone on an accompanying motorbike seemed to be taking photos, so I hope we've not got into too many, and I hope we're not looking too embarrassed in the ones we haven't escaped.
We offloaded the group tour at the aquarium, and completed the rest of the circuit, back to the museum, at slightly lower volume.
Fifteen minutes or so will do you for the Phathammarong Museum, which displays memorabilia from the household of Prem Tinsulanonda, former prime minister and current head of the privy council. General Prem's father was the jailer (phathammarong) in Songkhla, and the building, begun in 1987 and opened in 1989, is modelled on the son's descriptions of the jailer's house. You will find little about General Prem's career in here, but the reconstructed traditional-style house, with its soft wooden floors and walls, makes you think you could live in something like that yourself...
Lunch at J-Glass rounded off the day. (Remember we'd started out very early...) This place has the benefit of air-con, and a menu written in English, so we could venture beyond the fairly limited repertoire I can order with my Thai. We had an interesting dish that reminded me of nasi kerabu -- not because the rice was blue, but because the shrimp-paste fried rice was surrounded by little piles of items (green mango, sweet pork, thin omelette, chili, onion, beans, and cucumber). A very nice combo, which looked something like this.
Two great days... :) Work tomorrow... :(