Down to the 'deep south' of Thailand.

            It has been a busy week on the mini vans, 'big' buses, and tuk- tuks of southern Thailand. I am

Transferring the fighting cocks to our bus.....

now in Hat Yai (pop: 191,000) about 50 kms north of the border with Malaysia. I made a considered decision to fore go the sun & fun resorts of the west coast of southern Thailand, famous for their inviting islands limestone cliffs and warm, gentle turquoise seas, so popular with the packaged tour crowd from North America and W. Europe. Instead, I have followed the route south along the rather mundane east coast and during the entire week have seen perhaps no more than a hundred western tourists in total. It might seem somewhat counter-intuitive to purposely miss the beauty spots, but after all, the theme of my trip has been to try and see as much of

Two little maids from school are we...........

that which is 'natural' and non-touristic as possible in the four S. E. Asian nations visited so far. When one is travelling solo the choice of places to go & things to see, can vary.
          Heading out of the A3 Living Hotel doorway at 7.15am and transported instantaneously by the omni-present touting tuk-tuk man to the bus station, I found it well worth the time to haggle and obtain ticket quotes from several bus companies that offered direct routes through to Hat Yai from Surat Thani, thus avoiding maybe long mid-point delays en route to change buses. In general, I have found almost all the services that a 'rough' traveller like myself might need, to be supplied very efficiently. The almost total absence of

A kid with the right moves....

spoken and written English in these parts does not make things perfectly smooth, but hey, is'nt that the allure of travel.
          Hat Yai is in the heart of Thailand's 'deep south' Muslim provinces and at least in the densely populated area around the large central bus station, the hijabid ladies with long gowns are very evident.
           The main sport in this area must be cock fighting judging by the large number cardboard boxes of squawking birds loaded from pick-up trucks that rendezvous'd with the bus at several pre-arranged meeting points along the bus route southwards. Not a sport that I have any interest in witnessing and anyway one that is likely enacted in anonymous warehouses away from prying eyes.