Well, the ship’s alarm was utterly useless. It went off at the time it had been set, completely ignoring the overnight time-zone change, meaning we sprang into action at 4.45am instead of the intended 5.45am. To add to the confusion, one of my phone alarms also went off at the same time. I still have no idea whether that was the Siri-set one or the manually set one.
We both managed to get back to sleep and eventually got up when the correctly set alarms went off. By just after 6am we were heading up to breakfast. If we’d expected the Lido buffet to be quiet, we were sadly mistaken — it was absolutely heaving. It seemed that half the ship was planning an early escape into Ko Samui.
Ten minutes before our designated meet time we headed to the World Stage and were greeted by absolute bedlam. There was an enormous queue just to get in, apparently being throttled at some invisible choke point. Everyone was asking everyone else what their meet time was. Nobody’s seemed to match. People with times later than ours were somehow way ahead in the queue and there was no visible organisation whatsoever. A couple of Americans tried to impose some order, but were ignored completely.
Some thirty minutes after our scheduled time we were finally checked in and given a tender boarding number. As we did so, I very politely pointed out that the queue wasn’t being managed and that the whole thing was a shambles. I was dismissed with, “There is someone out there organising it all,” to which I very calmly replied, “Oh no there isn’t,” as they immediately turned to deal with the person behind me.
In a very Norfolk way, I was a tad peeved.
While we waited to be called I decided to give some immediate feedback via the onboard Navigator app. I wouldn’t call myself a professional complainer, but I do know how to make companies listen. I outlined the problem, the impact, and how it could easily be avoided in future. I may also have added a small rant about the pre-meeting for our later Kanchanaburi trip. I confidently told Karen we’d hear back from the excursion team today. I was to be proved right.
Eventually our tender was called at 8.15am and we made our way down to midship. The crossing was a long thirty minutes over a very smooth sea. By 9.15am our coach finally set off — a good two hours later than I had naively expected.
Once moving, the earlier frustrations faded and we settled in with our English-speaking guide, Dort, who then proceeded to talk non-stop for the next four hours. His accent was extraordinary: mostly Thai-English, occasionally slipping into a Dick Van Dyke-style British accent, with the odd American twang thrown in from his university days in Maryland. Odd, but he was entertaining and informative throughout.
He introduced us to the concept of the “Happy Room”, the Thai term for toilets, and thoughtfully rated each one in advance at every stop.
Our first visit was to Wat Phra Yai, also known as the Big Buddha — and impressively big he was. With the temperature forecast to feel like 47°C, Karen sensibly declined the climb up the steps. I went up and was rewarded with a lovely view and a large bell, which I rang discreetly.
Walking back to the coach we were reminded that Thailand is, for the most part, still very much a developing country. None of the street food looked remotely hygienic. Electrical cables lay everywhere, tied to absolutely anything. The Happy Room here had no running water, just a bucket for flushing. Pools of standing water looked capable of frying anything that landed in them.
A short drive took us to Wat Plai Laem, more of a temple complex. Dort explained that anything inside a line around the temple fell outside the jurisdiction of the law. He cheerfully told us we could shoot him if we wanted from the side we were standing — though we’d be arrested immediately once we crossed the line because we would there was no electricity or water on that side. Perfectly clear.
I was taken by the large Happy Buddha. Karen, less so, as she said she thought I bore a more than a passing resemblance to him. I don’t think she meant that in a good way.
Next was Wat Ratchathammaram, a temple commissioned by a British bloke and coloured with red coral. By now I was starting to get distinctly templed-out and frankly couldn’t be bothered to take my shoes off yet again to go inside.
The final stop was Wat Khunaram, easily the weirdest of the stops. Built for a monk who had predicted his own death, he requested not to be buried but displayed in a glass case in the exact position he died in. He’s still there, seated in the lotus position, fully clothed. To make matters worse, his eyeballs eventually fell out, so they’ve fitted him with sunglasses to avoid terrifying children.
With that we were taken back to the port, where disturbingly our ship had moved further away, meaning an even longer tender ride back.
We headed straight to the Lido for a late lunch before going to the Crow’s Nest for Karen’s coffee. Except we didn’t quite make it. I felt I needed something cold and restorative and ordered a cocktail from the bar we were passing. Karen decided this was an excellent idea and joined me. One drink became another, followed by Banana Daiquiris, and before we knew it the afternoon had vanished.
Karen eventually decided she still needed a coffee, so some two hours later than planned we finally reached the Crow’s Nest. While she queued, I went to the Excursions desk to change our Saigon trip and to see if they “knew who I was”.
They did.
The assistant excursion director couldn’t apologise enough and explained she’d left a long message on our cabin phone. Not only had she confirmed with head office that at least one museum would be included on the Kwai trip, as per the original blurb, but she also said changes would be made to the tender system for future excursions. I was extremely happy with the outcome.
We had only a short time back in our room before heading to dinner. Tonight we were given a buzzer — clearly a new system being trialled. Once seated I ordered the New York Strip Sirloin and asked for extra chips, which caused some consternation but eventually arrived with two baskets. That turned out to be exactly the right amount. The steak wasn’t bad either.
I took a glass of red wine into the World Stage for tonight’s show, featuring songs from musicals. It was absolutely top-notch. Wicked and Jersey Boys in particular were outstanding, both vocally and in costume.
We caught the final two songs of the Rolling Stone Lounge’s middle set before heading back to our cupboard, as we have an even earlier start tomorrow. At least with no time change we felt confident setting the alarms. Famous last words?
