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The seaside 45 years ago
by our esteemed up-country contributor, “An Ancient Beach-Bum”
I have a great feeling towards water. Perhaps this is due to the fact
that water is essential to life. It can cause happiness or pain. Provide
contentment when drinking some refreshing water after a long hot journey, or be
a handicap when my golf balls always head into a pond. Thus, a river, lake,
lagoon and sea, are most attractive to me.
 Pattaya
Bay in 1970. (taken by Axel Borsdorf)
As our offspring grew in numbers and age, we would take them as often as we
could to Hua Hin, Bang Saen and Pattaya. The sea air was healthy and they could
learn to swim. On seeing the ocean for the first time, the exclamations and
remarks went like this: “Ooh, Oh, such a lot of water!” “Now I know how salt
fish become salty.” “Why don’t the white horses gallop to me?” “Look at me. See?
I can swim downstairs.” “Ooh. I’m covered in gems. I don’t want to get out.”
(bathing when it is dark).
It was time we acquired a place of our own at a seaside. We found a bay for
sale, near the small village of Banglamung. (This bay is now known as
“Moonlight-on-sea”). There was no road into this bay and one could only reach it
by walking from the village, along the shore and climbing over boulders, if it
was high tide. Because we needed material to construct our holiday house, we had
to buy extra land to make a road-way into the bay.
The route from Bangkok to Banglamung was long and tedious and there was hardly a
tarred road to be found. We had to go through Bangpoo and cross the Bang Pakong
River by ferry. If you happened to be the last car onto the ferry, you had to
take care that all wheels were safely on the centre part of the ferry, because,
with the ramp being moveable, the car could slide off’ as the ferry chugged
across the river. If you saw the ferry in mid-stream, you would have to wait
quite a while for it to return. So, going to Banglamung could take almost a
whole day.
Back then, Banglamung was a small fishing village. The back entrance was rather
difficult to drive through, because the sea had made a small cove on the bank
which was filled with debris, leaving a very narrow lane full of broken shells
and sand. The main entrance into Banglamung was a short way further down. The
wider but still sandy road was lined with a few shacks, in front of which were
this and that for sale. At the corner of the entrance to the main street was a
‘restaurant’, run by a lady who made delicious crab-rolls. She did not have to
hire any waiters, as she had a brood of children who scurried around. One or two
of the older girls would have a youngster on her hip, while other toddlers
crawled around the floor. Along both sides of the main street were shops where
you could buy nearly all items of necessity. At the head of the lane leading
into the market was a grocer, which carried some luxury goods, such as bread,
biscuits, and tinned butter. In the market, there was a variety of fresh
seafood. Along the shore, near the market, were the fishermen’s huts. Near by,
long nets would be hung and boats were bobbing in the water, if they were not
out fishing.
While our holiday house was being built, we stayed in a hut on the beach. One
morning I found that most of my kitchen pots and plates had disappeared. On
looking out, I saw some stuck in the mud, so there must have been a very high
tide during the night which washed my utensils away. When the call of nature
came, we went to an enclosure made from bamboo, about 80 cm high. Inside was a
hole with a bucket of lime and in privacy, you could admire the scenery instead
of having to read a newspaper or book.
The-wooden house was two story, with an oblong tank behind to act as a buffer
against any landslide and to hold plenty of rainwater. Beside this, we made a
picture, consisting of a footprint of each one of us. (I think it is still
there). On the ground floor we painted lines for ‘hop-scotch’. Using blocks of
tree-trunks as tables, on them were painted checker-squares. Shells were used as
pawns. Empty beer bottles were nine-pins, but only the older children were
permitted to play using a soft ball.
Upstairs was mainly open, with partitions between bedrooms. The children slept
in bunk-beds, much to the woe of the lower-bunker if the upper-bunker wet her
bed! All around were sliding windows, open so that we named the house
“Brong-Fah’. (open to the sky). Facing the sea was a lookout, on which there was
a telescope set up, so that we could keep an eye on the frolicking children when
they were on the beach. If we needed any of them, we would call them by using a
motor-horn. This was one used when the first cars came out. A rubber bulb at the
end of a horn, which when squeezed would send air through, so that the horn
would honk.
We took our meals in a pavilion and the kitchen was attached to it. One evening
as we were having our dinner, we heard sounds which we thought were croaks from
a large frog. Climbing on all fours up the slope from the sea, a woman and a man
appeared. Both were in the state of exhaustion. When they were able to speak,
they told us how they happened to be on our door-step at that hour of the
evening. They were staying in a bungalow at a bay some kilometres north of us,
and around 4 p.m. they thought it would be lovely to go out in their small
dinghy for a sail and watch the sun set over the water. They were so engrossed
with the sight, they forgot time and place. All too soon, darkness was over them
and in their confusion; they lost one oar over-board and discovered their snack
of biscuits and drinking water all gone. By this time, the dinghy had been
drifting. Looking around, they could see some tiny twinkling lights far away in
the distance. The gleam of one, which was isolated, seemed to be brighter and
nearer, so with determination, using the one paddle and their arms, they arrived
on our beach. They were Missionaries, and I can only believe that the good Lord
must have been with them to lead them to us.
Yes, in those days, our bay in Banglamung seemed like a paradise and all school
holidays were spent beside the sea. There was always plenty of activity. On the
peninsula which partly formed our bay, there were plenty of oysters stuck on the
rocks. Using a special hook (Sup-pa-noke) it was fun to crack these succulent
oysters off the rocks, getting enough for a tasty hors d’oeuvre. After a
rain-shower was the best time to pick cockles from under stones. Other mollusks
could be found in the sandy beach, which would be pickled in fish-sauce, making
tasty tit-bits to eat with congy in the mornings. As a special treat, we would
go deep-sea fishing on a fisherman’s boat. At a certain spot, the boat would
weigh anchor. Lines would be baited and the fisherman’s ‘boy’ would dive down
into the sea, holding someone’s fishing line. When he saw a fish, he’d hold the
bait in front of the fish, which when taken could be hauled up...always everyone
would catch a fish!
Beach-combing was another occupation and the treasures we found were many and
beautiful. Shells, perfectly formed in shapes of all kinds, some with colorful
markings. A sea-plant (black-twig), which could be twisted into curls and curves
by using the smoke of a cigarette. Dried star-fish and coral, but I never came
across a message in a bottle, nor a genie.
Some days, we would take a walk along the beaches to Pattaya, where we would
browse around the shops which carried more goods than the ones in Banglamung. If
we were hungry, we could buy sweet-meats from hawkers, who deftly carried their
goodies in baskets hanging from a rod which was balanced on one shoulder. There
was always a great variety to choose from, such as roasted or fresh coconuts,
sweet-meats neatly wrapped in banana leaf, candies and compotes and even hot
kebab, meat-balls & eggs on a portable barbecue. There were plenty of small
stalls selling noodles so we never starved.
There were not many hotels along the coast, just a few privately owned plots
here and there, and the walk along the beach was very enjoyable. If you got too
hot, you just ran down to the water & had a splash. You could find more
sea-shells to add to your collection. You could try to catch the crabs that had
been sunning themselves on rocks, but would scurry into a hole as soon as you
got near. You felt that you had “come-into-one’s-own”, as there were no other
people around.
If I am correct, Pattaya started to be known as a tourists’ seaside resort when
the American Forces spent their R & R in Pattaya. Since then, Pattaya has not
looked back and is now a famous coastal city on the East coast of the Gulf of
Thailand.
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Exotic setting, delicious seafood at Sunset Village
Twilight at the Sunset Village Restaurant
Sunset Village is a very rare place. The atmosphere is what people from
temperate climates think of when Polynesia or other tropical
destinations are mentioned.
Those of you who’ve been disappointed and think of ‘tropical paradise’
as only existing in the movies will have your fantasies fulfilled at
Sunset Village. The area is a naturally forested and all is tranquillity
and gentle breezes. I don’t want to go on too long, as the place is a
cliché fantasy come to life. The only way to really appreciate it is too
go there yourself.
 Chef
Prasong Santawee
My companion (she who eats as little as a sparrow on a diet) insisted in
her own inimitable way (also known as ‘being pesky’) that we make a
visit as she needed good ‘seafood and serenity’.
Situated on the beach, Sunset Village is a hotel/restaurant with 40
bungalow style rooms. The spacious restaurant is made from natural
materials and is built on many levels, conforming to the natural
contours of the land.
My friend had called ahead and requested that our host, general manager
Patrick Stahl, design our menu ahead of time, as she considers the wait
between ordering and eating a useless waste. She is the swoop and devour
type.
When we arrived, I reluctantly admitted that she was totally right about
the ambience. Having moved from Bangkok because it was too noisy, I now
find Pattaya no library. But Sunset Village is set so far off the road
that the only sounds are the music of the seas and trees.
We were escorted through the Polynesian-type longhouse inside to a table
on a wooden deck overlooking the sea.
An array of dishes awaited our arrival. My friend does have her good
points and had informed Khun Patrick that I was not able to eat seafood
and he had ordered chicken in red wine sauce which sparkled up at us
like edible rubies. Just to make sure I would not go hungry, Chef
Prasong Santawee had worked magic and had also prepared a pork goulash
and rice for me.
The jewels in the crown of Sunset Village’s restaurant are its seafood.
Although I am allergic to it, I know good food when I look at it. And
judging by the way my companions eyes popped on first site of Neptune’s
largesse, I could tell that this would keep her quiet for at least 20
minutes.
My companion and a photographer friend could not stop talking about (or
eating) the Oriental Mussels. Chef Prasong explained that this treat was
made by steaming the mussels, then making a sauce of chopped parsley,
arrowmate, Thai onions, white wine and whipping cream and sautéing the
heavenly mixture, before popping the little creatures back in their
shells and serving them.
My two friends then made short work of a Pla Kapong Khao (steamed white
sea bass) which was surrounded by a colourful garland of vegetables.
This was served with a mouth watering chilli sauce, full of garlic,
onions, palm sugar and other goodies, the whole being topped off by
fresh crab meat.
Sweet and sour king prawns then arrived and my friends were going to
protest, but their better natures prevailed and they celebrated this
marine harvest by eating heartily.
The chicken with red wine and pork goulash are for those unfortunates
who cannot eat seafood. The flavours in the chicken were perfectly
balanced and I couldn’t help ladling the sauce in.
The pork goulash was hearty and satisfying in the middle European style.
Sure to be a favourite with children who are picky eaters as it is
savoury but not too exotic.
Khun Patrick said that the two dishes most commented on at Sunset
Village were the Thai Keang Khiow Waan, (green curry) and the chicken in
curry powder.
Dessert was another treat. Fried bananas and ice-cream with real maple
syrup!
Sunset Village is worth a visit, either for the food alone or the
atmosphere alone. Getting both is an embar-rassment of riches.
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