Open Writing

Summertime in Bangkok is hot and wet and stifling so our good friend Miriam managed to find us a small Thai style cottage at Pattaya to rent on weekends.

Pattaya is 150 kms east of Bangkok and in 1969 the journey was a gruelling three hour trip over unsealed dirt roads passing through tapioca farms.

Friday afternoons a driver from the Coca-Cola office would collect me and our cat Smokey (who had managed to hide in the box of groceries) and then we would collect the girls from school and start the long, dusty drive.

Our first stop in Pattaya was the local market where we would stock up on the delicious Thai fruits, pineapples, lychees, rambutans and mangosteens and bananas.

In 1969, Pattaya was a sleepy fishing village on the Gulf of Thailand with one resort hotel, numerous shacks and cottages and a U.S. Army base. Pattaya was also an R and R base for U.S. servicemen from the Vietnam war so the main esplanade of the town was a confusion of disco bars, nightclubs, and tourists and soldiers on scooters and jeepneys.

On the main beach, the locals sold souvenirs, Thai silk shirts and sarongs. But up on the cliffs overlooking the beach, our 'Cliff House' was an oasis of peace and quietness.

The house was a mudbrick cottage with a thatched roof made of Cogon palm leaves and wooden shutters over the large windows. The living/dining area was one large room with an overhead fan, which we only had to use on the hottest days as there was usually a lovely cool breeze from the ocean.

There were two small bedrooms, a kitchen and a small laundry. Sliding glass doors from the main living area opened out onto a wide paved verandah with a three foot high stone wall just right for sitting on and looking at the ocean.

A spring situated half way down the hill supplied water which was pumped into two large holding tanks. By about 3 p.m. every day the sun had warmed the water to just the right temperature for a shower.

I bought bottled water from Bangkok for drinking water and for cooking.

We had brought one of our small clay hibachi-type barbecues, which we set up on the outside verandah so our meals were fairly simple.

Our house was built on a small knoll of land overlooking our own private little beach. Stone steps led down to the sand and most days were spent swimming in the calm water, walking along the beach collecting shells or just relaxing.

Smokey accompanied us down to the beach and loved to chase the waves trying to catch the bubbles on the sand.

In the evening we would sit out on the verandah looking at the lights of fishing boats out on the ocean or just enjoying the stillness and the sound of the waves on the sand.

Two large gecko lizards lived on top of one of the rainwater tanks. They were at least twelve inches long, much bigger than the geckos I knew from the Philippines. They spent their days sleeping but as night fell they would slide up and down the glass windows catching insects with their long tongues.

Smokey was fascinated by them and spent fruitless hours trying to catch them through the glass. Then one night she decided to venture outside to try to catch one of the lizards as it slithered down the tank. She was not prepared for the lizard to try to catch her and scurried inside to the safety of the living room.

Sometimes we would walk from our beach to the main beach, where children could enjoy pony rides along the sand.

The currency exchange in 1969 was roughly 20 baht to the U.S. dollar so Ha baht (or five baht) was about 25 cents.

The vendors would call out 'Sip Baht' (ten baht or 50 US cents). I would shake my head and call out 'Ha baht'.

They knew that with three little girls wanting rides they were likely to get at least six rides so they would laugh and call me ‘Madam Ha Baht’.

Our weekends at Pattaya were a welcome respite from the heat of Bangkok and though we were in Thailand for only one year our days at the 'Cliff House' became treasured memories.

© Peggy Mitchell

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Peggy writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au