Koh Chang - Little Eden Stay
Trip Start
Nov 20, 2008
1
2
Trip End
Feb 15, 2009
Koh Chang, Thailand
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Little Eden is a piece of very affordable Paradise (we paid just 400 baht a night in 2008 high season). It is set on the hillside opposite Lonely Beach, a party area of Koh Chang. It is far enough away from the noise if you want peace and quiet, but only a short walk from all the action when you want to dance.
The one-year old huts are simple and very clean with comfortable mattress and mosquito nets that work! There are fans to keep you cool and we found it was all we needed. Clean sheets and towels are provided and changed upon request. Toiletries and toilet paper is not provided so take your own (No toilet paper must go in the toilet though!)
The garden is well maintained and quite lovely.
There is internet, but no WI FI, so you'll have to ask Alex at the restaurant and reception desk if you need to use it. There is no charge but you might have to wait your turn.
The new treehouse is a good chill-out space for daytime sunbathing, reading, whatever and great for the night barbecue parties that Lek holds every now and then with free food for the guests.
The restaurant area is great for chilling out or sampling the amazing Thai food on offer. A western menu is available too, but you have to try Lek's great Thai culinary skills. He'll even teach you how to cook if he's not too busy!
Alex is British and her Husband Lek is Thai. They both speak English so no problems with communication. All ages go to Little Eden, but it doesn't have a lot of facility for children, although there are plans to create a couple of family rooms.
We would go back to Little Eden in a heartbeat. The friendliness of the place is second to none! Your heart will melt too when you meet Alex and Lek. Enjoy yourself, (and encourage them to put WI FI internet in for the guests). Say Hi from us.
Colette & Roger
I have added an excerpt from our personal diary about our adventures at Little Eden ......
The journey over to Koh Chang from Trat is very slow. We could have paddled a canoe faster. The boat crawled the short distance and the island never seemed to get any closer. Koh Chang looks beautiful though. She is an emerald green jewel rising out of the deep blue waters. Her peaks are covered almost to shoreline with pristine rain forest. Her beauty, so missing in many other parts of Thailand is due to the fact that she is
almost completely given over to National Parkland, largely set up by the King. However, her edges are fast becoming dominated by developers from the mainland. While, high rise hotels are not allowed, some of the complexes are 3 floors high. Most are in White Sands Beach, where the older tourists largely stay. We will head toward Bang Bao Fishing Village, but we want to stay at "Little Eden" in Lonely Beach which is a sort of Hippy hangout area with lots of night parties. We aren't interested in the parties, but "Little Eden," is run by Alex, a girl from Newcastle and her Thai husband, Lek. We visited in the spring for a meal and liked the pretty garden with coconut palms, banana plants, coleus and grass. It is set away from the beach on a hillside below the rain forest and pretty idyllic really. The monkeys come down from the forest in the morning to eat the bananas offered by Lek. We try to call them on our Thai mobile phone, but there is no answer. We just hope they have space when we get there.
At the ferry terminal, we part company with the Dutchman who is hiring a motorbike and heading in the opposite direction. We climb into the taxi bus and squeeze in. The driver is almost surly. "You pay 200 baht!" He tells Roger unceremoniously. We are sitting next to a young Canadian couple and start up a conversation. "We have to go home on 6th December," they tell us, "we hope the airports are open then." They explain that they were supposed to fly down to Phuket but had to come to Koh Chang instead as there are no flights. We tell them Koh Chang is much nicer anyway and they will love it. "Besides, it is raining down South, the weather is awful apparently," I reassure them. They look happier. We tell them some of the places to go, including Lonely Beach and Bang Bao. They get out at the tourist trap of White Sands Beach and wave goodbye. The other tourists in the taxi-bus are chatting about the problems getting out of the country. So many people are eking out the last of their money. It is already a week since the airports have been closed and people are starting to feel a bit frustrated. Even the Dutch man told us he was supposed to be back at work. Bangkok is expensive so many have headed here to Koh Chang to wait out their time until a flight can take them home.
It is a short walk to Little Eden up the hill from Lonely Beach, but in the heat, carrying bags it is quickly exhausting. I already look like a melted ice cream, my hair hanging round my face in straggly disarray and now I am puffing like a 90 year old. Little Eden soon comes into view. "No have Room!" Lek looks concerned as he recognises us from our little visit earlier in the year. "All people still here, waiting, all Island full," he says apologetically. It is late and the ferry's will not go again until the morning. Lek tells us to sit and gives us a bottle of ice cold water. "I make phone call, I fix something," he tells us. Less than 5 minutes later, a skinny Thai man with long hair comes up on to the wooden platform that forms the restaurant and lounging area. We have sprawled out on the mats already cooler in the shade and refreshed by the water. "My friend, he take yew (Lek pointed at Roger) to see a Viwa - not too expensife," Lek tells Roger. "Yew stay here, rest," Lek commands me. The skinny man told Roger to get on the back of his motorbike and they rode away into the dust. Lek sat down beside me smoking a cigarette. He chatted about the political problems in Bangkok and Chiang Mai, shaking his head. "Vewwy bad for tourist!" I agreed. Who knew how it would affect the tourism once things got going again. So far there were only rudimentary plans to get tourists out (not in), some having to leave with little notice from military airports in Pattaya.
I look around at all the construction that has started up around little Eden. The place is buzzing with drills and hammering of nails. "So much new here," I state simply to Lek. He nods grimacing. It is obvious he is not overly happy with the units going up right across from Little Eden. I could almost reach across and touch them they were so close. The site workmen are controlled by a Thai man that looks like Fu Man Chu, his balding head, long hair and long moustache, making him look sinister. Some of the workers are Cambodian and have set up a makeshift camp below Little Eden. They live in really primitive conditions. I ask Lek if the monkeys still come down from the forest? "No, too many dogs now, they gone!" Lek points to the numerous mutts parading around the building site. A small kitten scampered across the floor. "This Mallee," said Lek picking up the skinny creature trying to fasten a claw into my leg. It was a cute little thing and loved to be with people.
Lek's mobile phone rang and he had a conversation part in English and partly in Thai. I knew he was talking about Roger and the Villa. Prices came up, 500 baht for small, 700 baht for Large. Lek came back to me. He told me that he owner of the Villa was away. "He vewwy wich, not care about them, not used. My fwiend hawe the key, he look after yew. I take yew now." He stubbed out his cigarette and signaled me to follow him. Lek picked up our two larger bags and I picked up the two backpacks, the electronic bat and a plastic carrier with snacks and a bottle of warm water we had brought with us. When I saw that we had to go on Lek's little motorbike, I was incredulous. The Thais generally use 200 cc engines, slightly bigger than mopeds really. They don't wear any protective gear, flip flops and shorts generally being it. I was wearing a short skirt and flip-flops and I felt fear rising in my belly as I surveyed my ride. I hadn't been on a motorbike since I was 9 years old and it was a much larger thing than this. Lek piled the two larger bags in front of him and I gingerly climbed on the back, positioning my feet on two little foot holds. I gripped the bike with my knees and slung the two back packs over my shoulders, I hung on to the carrier bag and the electronic bat with my right hand and not knowing where to hang on, I just put my left hand on Lek's waist to balance myself. I'm not sure he was comfortable with this, but I didn't care. Fear gripped me and I hoped we didn't need to go far.
Lek was a careful driver, but he went fast nevertheless. Koh Chang is hilly (2:1 gradients in many places) and we shot up and down the hills weaving around hairpin corners, my hair and bags flying in opposite directions. It took a good 10 minutes to get to the "Villas" which were half way between Lonely Beach and Bang Bao. People who knew Lek, looked incredulously at this frantic blond witch on the back of his bike and then huge smiles spread across their faces, tiny titters as they found the scene amusing. The "Villas" were new but the site was only half finished and looked abandoned. Dead palm leaves and building rubbish covered the ground. The skinny guy came to help me with the bags and I said goodbye to Lek. We had arranged that he would pick us up the following day as before he brought me, one of the people who checked in said they would only stay one night. It was our lucky day after all.
Next morning the sound of a motorbike outside came earlier than expected. I peeked out through the door. "Hewwo, I Lek brother, come to take yew." The voice came from a bespeckled youth with a checkered cap positioned on his head backwards. The glasses made him look very geeky. I asked him to wait a few minutes while we packed up and then we joined him around the front of the bungalows. Roger couldn't believe we were all going back on his tiny motorcycle (even smaller than Lek's). This time, I, seated in the middle, held my backpack on my forearm, Roger held the electronic bat with one hand and held on to me with his other (his backpack on his back). I couldn't figure out where to put my feet as Roger had the foot rests. I found an eventual perch for them on the bulging part of the bike chassis, but felt less than stable. I held onto Roger's legs and tried to avoid knocking Lek's brother's hat off as I fought for air behind his head. The ride back to Little Eden was best described as "tippy." Every bend, I felt as though I'd come off the bike as this youth liked to dip his bike a little more than Lek and he would get very near to the precipitous edge of the road. I closed my eyes and pretended it was a fairground ride and would soon be done. It was and I was grateful to be there in one piece.
Our hut was ready for us and we quickly got settled. It was more basic than where we had been, just a bed (but good mattress with clean sheet and an Indian cotton printed cover that would prove very comfortable) protected by a rather flimsy mosquito net that had rather too many holes in it. We had three windows, two with just wooden shutters and the third with slatted glass. The walls were made from Asbestos siding, so we tried not to touch them too much. The wooden floor had large gaps open to the dirt below and the palm leaf roof was loosely applied as a cover against the elements. Gaps would let mosquitoes in everywhere so Roger's electronic bat was going to be very useful as we could not see the tiny mosquitoes and the bat would zap them as we swung it through the air. Our bathroom was covered with the same palm leaves, but open on each end so also a mosquito haven. The toilet was western, but non flushing so a large pot with water stood next to it so we could pour water down instead. There was only cold water (and yes, it is cold, not tepid as people would have you believe) so a shivery prospect for a shower. Our veranda held a cloth hammock and a wooden bench seat. That was it. While basic, I immediately loved it and hung out of the shuttered window surveying the rain forest above us. Our accommodation was luxurious compared to the huts where the staff lived. We overlooked the restaurant and would get the afternoon sun making for a restful laze in the hammock as the day warmed up.
We freshened up and went for a walk along Lonely Beach. The whole thing is dedicated to young people backpacking and living a rather bohemian lifestyle. Dreadlocks rule here, but the nose rings have largely gone replaced by a sixties style fashion. The bars here all play loud party music until about 12 a.m., but each one has a rota once or twice per week to hold a party that goes till 2:00 a.m., and sometimes, dawn. The most famous is the Tree House, but it is getting a bit tired now and has been upstaged by others that attract the young with a variety of exotic drinks and better music. In the mid-afternoon they are sleepy, still shaking off the activities of the previous night. Youngsters lie around sleeping on the strewn mats or watching a movie on the TV's that all of them seem to have. We wander down to a bar on the shore-front and order a meal. I order Pad Thai and Roger goes for a hot-chili dish. I instantly regret ordering the Pad Thai after our waiter tells a girl on the next table that he doesn't feel well. He holds his stomach. I hope what he has isn't catching. The food is not particularly remarkable and I am disappointed with my dish which consists of chicken, bean sprouts and spaghetti strands with a bit of powdered peanut on the side. I eat it though because I am hungry. We split a bottle of water and then pay and leave. On the way back we pick up a couple of Archa beers for 35 baht each, some fruit and a couple of Red Bulls (a sweet, caffeine-laden fruit drink). We drink our beers while swinging in the hammock and watch the sun go down.
It isn't long before my stomach starts to complain. The Pad Thai didn't go down to well and I spend half the evening in the toilet. It eases up just before bedtime though. The night is so windy that we leave all the windows open. No mosquito could fly in this maelstrom so we sleep secure in our safety from the little nibblers. Crashes and bangs ensue throughout the night as coconuts, branches and other bits of debris fall down around us. It sounds like a hurricane but there is no rain. Music wafts up to us with each wind gust and it sounds quite eerie. We sleep like babies most of the time and are woken only by the cackling of Cockerels announcing the impending dawn. Soon, wild hoops and other bird noises join the chorus. A loud buzzing noise starts up and I imagine it is a Cicada in the dog foot tree next to our veranda as it is too early for workmen yet. The geckos are still yipping to each other and the effect is rather musical. I lay awake listening to all their chatter all until daylight subdues the serenading. I fall asleep again as humans noises start up in the restaurant below and the workmen start hammering.
We went down to breakfast quite late. We had already paid Alex for 3 nights plus the night at the Villa. While a nice girl, she was wary of us at first. We were older than their normal clientèle and looked rather conservative in comparison. Alex, a native of Newcastle, England, was a willowy blond girl of about 30 (I later learn she is 33) with tattoos covering her arms and lower legs. Realising we were not going to be complaining "touristy" pensioners, she greeted us with a smile. We ordered Thai breakfasts (Rice soup) and coffee. I asked for a Ginger tea too, knowing it would calm my still broiling tummy. We chatted with her and Lek for a while and sat about generally lounging. Roger was disappointed that they still didn't have WI-FI and told Alex so but accepted her offer of connecting to their network connection wire and went off to get the computer. We sat listening to catch up episodes of the Archers. Lek and Alex left to do some grocery shopping, doubled up on Lek's bike. They left one of the staff looking after the kitten, Mallee, but he soon fell asleep in a hammock and the kitten came over to us. We keep our earphones in a little nylon zippered bag which Mallee soon found and she curled up on it underneath Roger's tummy and went to sleep. She stayed there the whole hour that Lek and Alex were gone. On their return, the guy in the hammock woke up and Alex worriedly scanned the restaurant for her missing "baby." Roger caught her gaze and pointed below himself to the sleeping patch of fluff and Alex smiled in relief. "We've been baby sitting!" I said. The kitten woke up when Alex spoke and crawled up Roger's chest. It was fascinated by his eyelashes and batted them with its tiny paws making Roger wince. Alex bent down and picked up the boxing fur-ball, relieving us of our tiny charge.
We generally did nothing the rest of the day and intended to eat at our own restaurant that night. However, at dusk we retreated to the safety of the cabin away from the mosquitoes which appeared from nowhere in the calm air. We cleared the room of the little monsters with the electronic bat and crawled inside the mosquito net, listening to music on our computer. We drank a beer (a bit warm because we had no fridge) and then Roger started on the Hong Thong (a Rum/Brandy like drink). I didn't really intend to drink much. We had been good for weeks and had had replaced our consumption with water. I thought the brandy like mixture might help settle my stomach though and we drank little sips chatting generally. Time slipped by and darkness drew into late night. The windows were open, but we had a mosquito coil burning that kept us free of invaders. The Hong Thong bottle quickly emptied. Roger asked me if I wanted anything to eat. I got up off the bed to go for a pee and found I couldn't walk straight. "No, I'm too drunk, I'll do something silly," I replied. I got back on the bed, not making it to the bathroom. I don't remember much after that, but apparently I became very amorous and gave Roger a night to remember. So much so, that he couldn't sleep at all. I just passed out (I think) afterward and had no memory of it. I did wake up in the morning with my trousers on inside out and no knickers so I don't know quite what acrobatic antics I involved myself in. At least Roger enjoyed himself, he said that I was jumping all over the place. "Ah that I was so exciting when I am sober!" I said. "My sentiments exactly," Roger agreed. Now I know why he likes to ply me so much with the evil brew.
It's Tuesday and we decide after breakfast, that we will go to Bang Bao. We walk down the hill to get a taxi. Fu Man Chu shouts "hewo" and raises a thumb saying "OK!" We wave but pass quickly, we've seen him snare other tourists. The day is a hot, cloudless one and it isn't long before I feel sun scorched. I fish out a blouse from my bag and put it over my bare shoulders. A taxi bus draws up at our waving, "Yew pay 100 baht each," the driver commands as we climb in. "Mai," No, too expensive I shout back and we climb out again. He waits expecting us to relent. We wave him away. "Cheeky Bugger," I curse, "what a nerve!" A woman across the road sees us. She is working at a fruit stall and she waves another taxi over. We pay him the going rate of 50 baht each (£1.00). Roger complains that it is expensive even at that for the short ride to Bang Bao.
There has been a bit more construction in Bang Bao and new places have opened and others are going up. It is a hive of activity. We expect it to be busy, full of tourists but it is relatively quiet and we assume everyone has gone out on scuba diving or snorkeling expeditions. We walk the length of the little restaurants and shops and wade through the high tide covering part of the pier. Roger spots the young Canadians we'd met on the Songthaew (Taxi-bus) from the Ferry. They wave hello from their trip boat about to leave on a snorkelling expedition. They tell us they are having a fantastic time and love Koh Chang.
We meander down to the lighthouse and sit in the shady side for a while looking out at the pretty bay surrounded by jungle filled hills with Bang Bao nestled below, a hive of colourful activity. We watch the various fish that hide in the shade below boats and the pier and then wander down one end to sunbathe our white bellies a bit. I feel a bit blobby as mine seems to ripple over my shorts and am happy to sit away from prying eyes. After a while, a bone-thin man in dirty shorts starts walking down to us. He smiles and nods. He has black teeth. I feel conspicuous in my bikini top, but he is polite and practices his very poor English skills on us. We manage a sort of primitive communication made up of repeated words and pointing. He is Cambodian and working on a fishing boat. We cannot tell if he is here for 4hours, 4 days, 4 weeks or 4 months, only that it is 4 something. He makes lots of signs and keeps repeating Cambodia and nods when we say "Ankor Wat." We figure that he wants to take us there and we decline his offer. Eventually he wanders away, but we see him again and say goodbye and I wave to indicate what we are saying. He is sitting with other people but gets up and repeats my words several times until he gets it right. "Goodbye," he says almost faultlessly. We leave and I can hear him trying to teach this new word to the people he was sitting with. It is really remarkable that people can be so interested in learning a new language. He was so poor and his constant spitting probably indicated that he was one of the unfortunate that have parasitic worms in his body. His eyes were quite yellow too, so he had probably had malaria too. He had not given up on life though, he was animated, friendly and seemed relatively happy.
The sun was warm but less intense as the afternoon turned hazy. We wandered back into Bang Bao and found a new restaurant/bar overlooking the sea. The tall blond girl with braids who greeted us, looked like Maria out of The Sound of Music, her Swedish accent compounding the effect as she spoke to us in textbook perfect English. We sat on lounge cushions at a low table, half in shade and I ordered a coconut and Roger a lemon juice. The condiment set on the table had attracted the attention of tiny red ants which scampered all over it in sugar induced frenzy. The new bar owners had not learned the rules of the jungle yet. Such things should only come out for the meal and then be put away again. Our drinks arrived and "Maria" chatted away to us. Roger described Sun Dried Beef to her. It is his favourite meal in Thailand but is a Northern dish largely from Chiang Mai area. He cannot find it here in Koh Chang, though a few restaurants have tried to replicated it for him whenever he has asked. We have seen it in Bangkok though. The meat (pork or beef) is cut into 1/2" wide slivers about 6" long and laid on a wire mesh tray. A screen top is put over the top (to protect from flies) and put into the sunshine where it dries to a rubbery consistency. Then the meat is coated in a sort of spicy sweet sauce and sometimes sesame seeds and fried. The result is a gooey, chewy delicacy that is mouth-wateringly good. We often order it as a Tapas type dish with a jug of cold beer at our Bangkok hotel. "Maria" agrees that it sound like just what they are looking for in their bar. "We want to reduce our menu and introduce finger foods like that," she tells us, "so people can find something different when they come to visit us." Her sentiments are reasonable. Their tiny, pretty bar has some stiff competition in Bang Bao. I look around at its empty tables. They are fighting to get custom.
My tummy is still not right and I have been feeling under the weather for days, with a headache and cold symptoms. After the refreshing coconut, needs rush me into the restaurant toilet. It is basic and I can hear kitchen noises over the divider wall. I have to go though and try not to be noisy. It is unfortunate that I have no bug spray on as tiny unseen mosquitoes dive at me from every direction and I feel at least half a dozen zings on my legs within seconds of each other. It is difficult to slap and defecate while squatting, so the mosquitoes win. I use the water in a large stone trough to flush the evidence away, but find the two stop taps are not working and have to use the same water to rinse my hands. Back at our table I hunt in my bag for the alcohol hand cleanser that I always carry. Then request our Tai Meng oil from Roger to dab my newly swelling welts on my legs. My coconut and straw have been invaded by the red ants and spill over the table in a confused moving mass. I remove everything we have from the table and move back onto my lounger cushion watching the tiny army consume everything.
The sun is beginning to set and the bay looks extraordinarily pretty. I lie thinking how perfect life can feel, even with ants, mosquitoes and a queasy constitution. No wonder the Thais smile a lot.
Roger toyed briefly with hiring a motorbike after our little excursions with Lek and his brother, but since then we have seen too many people with injuries. Cut legs and broken arms seem to be the main ones. The guide books warn in very bold writing that only very experienced bike riders should undertake a bike rental. They also warn that the local police delight in charging tourists not wearing a protective helmet. These are just not used by the Thais, but it is an enforceable rule and the police have the power to do whatever they want. Alex tells us that only one party per week per bar is allowed but that the Police actually own one of the bars and they often have many more parties than that. She shrugs. We tell her of the morning we see a policeman arrive at the building site. We think he is there to find out how the fight ensued the night before (not Lek or Alex after all as we had thought). He sits with Fu Man Chu drinking beer most of the morning and staggered back to his patrol car about Noon. He was hardly able to stand let alone drive!
Wednesday morning, we are in the restaurant and helping ourselves to coffee. We chat for a while with Lek who brings me a ginger tea (they just bring it now without asking because they know I love it). Alex has gone to the mainland with one of the staff to do some shopping and will not be back until late afternoon. I find conversation with Lek interesting. His command of English is very good even if the pronunciation is difficult to understand. That is only his limitation brought about by his own Thai language that doesn't recognise the letter R, some L's , nor S too well. Roger still won't order a meal, so I content myself with having just the coffee which Roger has made. We ask Lek about going for a trek in the jungle and he arranges it for the next morning. He tells us in the evening there will be a free barbecue and party for guests. He wants to get people together so they have a bit more camaraderie and enjoy themselves.
A crash behind me makes me look quickly over at the Cambodian workers village below us. A house with a partial grass roof has just collapsed in a cloud of dust and debris. I look back and say "his house has fallen down!" While this is not funny for the poor Cambodian who is looking in dismay at his destroyed home, I cannot help but giggle. Lek and his cousin come over and they laugh too when they see the mess. The Cambodian stares helplessly at the pile of wooden scaffold and bits of palm that was once a structure, his hammer still in his hand. "He obviously hit the wrong bit!" I laugh. Lek shakes his head and grins.
End of Diary entry....
I know if you stay with Lek and Alex at Little Eden on Lonely Beach, Koh Chang, You'll have an absolutely fantastic time! The barbecue was a great success and Lek and Alex had a lot of people come to the party from other resorts. Lek is a great cook and the restaurant dishes were delicious and economical. We didn't really want to leave - we extended our stay to 10 days from the original 3.
