I don't big up my hostels often (usually because it's tough to big up a bed bug infested mattress on the floor), but I've totally enjoyed my time in this weird little village resort in Ban Krut (or Ban Kruit, Bankrut, Bangkrut, Ban Krud - anything goes with Anglicised Thai).
I tend to book my accommodation in short, sharp spasms of panic a couple of days before arriving, without really checking out what I'm letting myself in for, so I had no idea I'd be staying in my own private wooden lodge.
WOODEN!
That's my retirement sorted. Look, it even has an old man chair where I can shout at girls and spout ominous-sounding prophecies at passing pilgrims
I love this creepy lodge (I guess it's technically more of a shack, hut or cabin, but lodge makes it sound more Twin Peaks), and the village has all the positive aspects of those new age communes that hippies and Avatar fans like to join - solitude, peace and quiet, clear views of the night sky - without any of the irritating stuff like community spirit, self-sufficiency and singing. Oh, except it has singing. It's Asia.
The Lentil Years
Neil... are these lentils South African?
When I moved to Edinburgh after graduating University, wondering what the hell I was going to do next, heavily overdrawn, unemployed, eating lentils to survive and not realising how ill I was until I eventually got better, my flatmate told me that I'd start to splash out and treat myself once the money started coming in. She was wrong.
She was right about the lentils at least, but beyond that I still haven't moved much beyond my 2007 budget, despite my fluctuating fortunes. After so many years of poverty, I didn't know what to spend money on, or even enjoy spending it. That's why I enjoy living in places like Thailand, where the amount I'm willing to pay for accommodation per night (£5 - £10) goes a lot further. And the further south I go, the better it seems to get.
Village person
I could easily see myself living somewhere like this permanently... if living somewhere permanently was an option offered by my restless brain. Unfortunately, I seem to work in three-year cycles (three years studying in Lancaster, three years jobbing in Edinburgh), so I have to put up with this brilliant, leisurely travelling lifestyle for two and a half more years yet. Kill me now.
In case you're concerned that these blogs are going to get even more big-headed and self-aggrandising than usual as I head further south, don't worry - I've already booked next week's accommodation and it's back to the shitholes where I belong! But shitholes on idyllic tropical islands, so still better than your house.
