Day 34: KL Mayhem and Phuket

 Got dropped off at international airport terminal, which makes sense since I'm flying to Thailand, 2 1/2 hours early. I'm happy with the building, clearly new construction, and I imagine they will have lots of places to buy coffee and grab some grub before my plane takes off. This would of been all well and good If I was flying any other airline than Air Asia, but Air Asia is special and has their own terminal no where close to the international one ... This I find out after wandering about looking for the Air Asia counter for 15 minutes. Now bear in mind I am weighed down with my entire pack and over the shoulder bag. So I follow the signs to the bus terminal which stretches across the whole of the terminal, down some stairs, across a skywalk, down some more stairs where a man asks, where are you going? Air Asia is all I say and he says 10, which is the bus terminal that the bus will come to. I think alright, it will be a quick jaunt. Then he says, 2.50 ringgits (Malaysian currency). Uh, what ... In the states all terminals are connexted by trams or buses at 0 cost to the customer. Plus, as you recall, I proudly just spent all my ringgits yesterday at the mall. So he says I need to go back up the stairs, across the skywalk, up another set of stairs, across the terminal to the far side where the currency exchange booth is. Yeah, basically where I started some 30 minutes ago.  So I do as told, but am not wanting to change a whole $20usd in for 70 ringgits, which they take a cut on, and then have to change it in Thailand for Bahts and get another portion taken out, all so I can pay less than $1usd for a bus ride to a terminal that should be free. I look in my money pouch, see 50,000 Rupiah from Indo and change it out for 17 ringgits and head back to the bus.
I return, step out to the terminal, and that is where I wait, and wait, and wait. The bus comes some 20 minutes later, about an hour and 20 minutes before departure. I jump on, pay my ringgits and off we go, thinking this should be a short jaunt, I'm still doing great.  I'm pretty sure we left the airport entirely, made a lap around KL and then arrive at another airport. Truth be told, it was a good 25 minutes and the terminal we arrive at, all Air Asia, looks like something out of the 50's packed out with consumeristic establishments on the outside, barren concrete walls on the inside. Obviously it is the old terminal from long long ago and shares the same runway as the other terminal I was at.

We arrive with less than an hour to departure. I enter through the throngs of people, see a Self-checkin kiosk, hit it up and think I'm ahead of the game.. I just have to drop off my bag at the baggage drop and proceed to grab a bite and head to the gate. If it was only that easy. I get to the baggage drop line and it's long and at a stand still. Meanwhile all the normal check in lines (not self-check in kiosk) are empty. So I proceed to one of those thinking, they surely can check my bag here. Oh no. They tell me since I've already checked in, I need to go to line R4 or R5 ... The really long lines that are not moving. I try to explain to her the fact that my plane takes off in less than 50 minutes and I want my bag on it ... She again points. Blurgh! So I get in line and 25 minutes later my bag is checked. No time for food because I still have immigration to go through, another security line and then get to the gate. Immigration is fairly quick as was security, but then I had to go down an escalator, through a corridor, to a grouping of gates, proceed out my gate door, down a sidewalk, across a road, and down another corridor to find my plane. I board with 3 minutes to spare ... But now I'm hungry ;(

No one is sitting in my row and I get excited, until I see a large Indian man, obviously sweating, smellable from 5 rows away, heading my direction. As he proceeds closer and closer looking at seat numbers I'm thinking, please not close, please not close ... He sits in the isle seat of my row. Not as bad as a direct hit, the middle seat next to me, but way too close. He turns his air on above his head but points it slightly to the left of his body, sending the fumes from his body, down his seat, across the middle seat, up my body right into my olfactories. I try to combat it with my air, but to no avail. He passes out, I almost pass out, put on my eye mask, and go to my happy place.

We arrive in Thailand, everyone exits the plane and mkes a b-line to customs, which in every country is a hit or miss with long lines. This one was a miss, about 16 lines across at least 20 people deep, we wait. I somehow found myself in between a tour group all speaking Arabic, some are in front, some are behind, but they speak past me as if I do not exist. Get through customs, no visa required for Americans, woo hoo, pick up my bag, it was there woo hoo, and make my exit looking for an ATM. There I am bombarded by taxi and shuttle brokers, spot the ATM, ignore them and make a b-line. Pull out 5000 baht = $160, and pick up a shuttle for 150 baht to my hostel. 

The trip is usually 45 minutes, but apparently this particular shuttle stops outside of the beaches and has you come into a storefront to "get your specific location". But in reality this is where they pitch you on hotels if you have not secured one, upsell you if they can, and try to sell you boat tours and elephant trek packages. Smart, but annoying. I get out, give them my hotel
location, tell them I'm not making decisions until I arrive, and get back in the aircon van. 15 minutes later, after everyone has been pitched, we take off for Patong Beach. 

I'm staying at Patong Backpackers Hostel, which is literally 1 minute from the beach and one minute from Bangla Rd which is where all the clubs and bars are off of. Brilliant location. I check in, pay for my 7 nights stay, throw my bags on my bed, discover the wifi is down, and head out to a coffee shop with wifi. Order the Mocha Oreo Frappe, fall in love with it, make baby frappes and live happily ever after. Or, devour the drink, hit up facebook and my blog, hit the beach as the sun is setting, and head back to PBH, my hostel. There I meet Manne (pronounced Manny), a 21 yr old swede also traveling on his own, but who knows most of the other hostel mates, several also being Swedes. We go to dinner with Annie and Holly, 2 British girls he met in Bangkok a while back but just arrived today as well. Hit up some local joint a bit on the cheaper side, and head to the local store to buy liquor. They're 21, and pre-partying at the hostel is a ritual among the backpack crew, saves on spending out at the bars. Then we all head out. 

We end up at a place called Hollywood Bar ... but of course ... Lured in by the promise of 2 buckets for 300baht. Buckets are what you think they are, like pails you give toddlers to build sand castles with, made up of whatever concoction you desire. Hollywood is made up of 15 or 20 bars, individually run, with their own special deals and activities. The one we were at had a large slab of wood that you hammer nails into until they feel secure, then you take turns with the hammer trying to pound them flush. The catch? You use the small angled backside part of the hammer, usually used to remove nails, instead of the front square solid surface. It's very difficult to hammer the nail with that end in the first place, but then add a little alcohol and it is cause for hours of entertainment. 

We return to the hostel by 3am, the wifi password is still not working, so I set to fixing it. Tap into the router, reset the entire thing, reload the device name and password, and it works. I'm now the hero of the hostel, according to Tip, the manager. 

Nite nite via the iPhone blogger!