It’s the middle of the night of course. There are people asleep on benches at the pretty station. I wander outside and a motorcycle taxi rider accosts me, and offers to take me to a hotel. After looking at 3 vastly over-priced dives, and seeing the preponderance of bars and spying drunk farangs staggering home to bed, I decide that this is probably not the place for me. I ask the driver to drop me at an Internet cafe and let me sort myself out. The cafe is sordid, stinky, squalid. Battered plastic seats, rows of large screens, litter all around and about 5 or 6 teens either asleep or falling asleep playing soothing or driving games.
A quick bit of research leads me to decide to head down the coast to Prachuap Khiri Khan. Waiting for the minibus at the clock tower I hear the sound of a voice drilling orders. Across the road is a school yard and a peek at yellow shirted students performing aerobic exercises en masse, led by someone on a stage. The mini bus fills with locals on the way to work, and drops me in Prachuap at around 7.45.