Last Day in Phuket

Today was our last day in Phuket. Can’t say that we’re all that sorry about it, though – it’s been fun, but not all that different from other places at the beach.

Part of our experience here, though, has been colored by the Tsunami that happened on December 26, 2004. To look around, you can’t see any remaining traces of it, other than the evacuation signs that we suspect didn’t exist before.

Our hotel wasn’t what we’d hoped. Rather than a small guesthouse with a private pool, hot tub, sauna – the whole spa package – we instead came into a construction site. High rise buildings are going up on either side, and the pounding starts on our wall at about 8:00 in the morning.

The grounds around the pool – which ranges from murky green to pristine blue – look more like a parking lot than anything landscaped, and the hot tub is drained and dry; it sat on it’s side in one corner of the yard until our last night, when it got turned upright again for some reason.

The area out front, which is a sidewalk café and pub, isn’t conducive to sitting because of the construction dirt and noise. Overall, we were somewhat disappointed and we started to leave.

It turned out, though, that it was going to be a hassle to leave, not to mention somewhat expensive. Anyone who’s tried to book a room at the last minute during high season knows it’s simply not done without a big pain in the wallet.

Online, we found the history of our hotel, though.

Originally, it was located on Patong Beach. The pics are beautiful. It was a very popular boutique hotel that was much in demand.

Until December 26, 2004, when the tsunami hit.

The manager on duty and a neighbor thought the ocean looked unusual. They stepped out on the sidewalk and looked at it receding unusually far into the bay.

Then they realized that it was coming back in, a wall of water moving much faster and much higher than they’d ever seen. They turned to run, but couldn’t outpace the ocean.

The woman hit a piling and managed to hold on. The manager ran upstairs to the second floor to warn the guests and staff.

He was never seen alive again. In the time it took to go up a flight of stairs, he was overwhelmed by the water. His body was identified several days later among the thousands recovered only because he’d lost a finger in a motorcycle accident. His face, swollen in the tropical heat, was unidentifiable.

Rather than close down, the owners moved the hotel 2 blocks away from the beach to its current location. They have plans for what it will be again, and are working hard to make that happen.

If we get to come back, we’ll stay here again despite the inconveniences and disappointments. The things that count the most – clean rooms, friendly staff, a solid internet connection – these things are here. After the construction next door is finished, it’s once again going to be a very nice little boutique hotel.

But one with a history, and a memory.