Thank you Michiel.

But first a bit of an introduction – why the pen name The Old Hand? Simple, it’s because I consider myself one of those rare critters – an Old Asia Hand.

What?! You never heard of that breed? Ok we are a bunch of self satisfied expats who have found the climate, people and customs of Asia enticing and so have settled here for a loooong time.

My credentials as an Old Asia Hand are simply that I have lived and worked in Asia since 1965 and it looks like I will continue to do so.

My memories of Phuket go back to about 1985 when I had first had the privilege of living and working there for about a year. In those days Phuket was a sleepy tin mining town and the only real industry on the island was the tin smelter, but a clever chap had discovered a way to make a fortune from the residue of the tin mining industry which contained a little known, but much in demand, mineral called tantalum. I went up there to help set up a smelter for this stuff and thus got my first taste of Phuket.

Now back in those days Phuket was not a tourist resort at all – in fact the only hotel that deserved to be called one was the five story Pearl Hotel right downtown – it had a bit of a Chinese/Thai flavor but the rooms were clean, the airconditioning worked and they had live bands in the coffee shop at lunchtime. Not to say that there was no Western food in the hotel, but you would be a fool to miss the Chinese food on offer, and if you needed a change from a one restaurant diet the answer was to climb into your trusty four wheel drive and head for Kata beach. Only a sand track led to the now famous Kata, but it was even more beautiful than now and the only structure on that whole beautiful beach was a nipah hut restaurant, with no walls to impede the view of the beautiful moonlit Kata Bay and a limited but enticing menu

The beach sand was the floor of the nipah hut and the tables and chairs were pieces of rough hewn logs. There was only one employee, the owner/chef who had quit his downtown job for a simpler life.

Service was do it yourself – The Singha was in a chiller full of ice sitting on the beach and you helped yourself as needed. The menu consisted only of fresh shark steak broiled over an open fire and thick homemade french fries, which would appear unbidden on your log table unless you waved them away.
Now there may be those among you who have not been introduced to the delights of shark steak, but in my opinion its one of the finest seafood dishes available – if it’s fresh and prepared by an expert as this was and it was mouthwateringly good.

Billing was simple, at the end of the evening the chef just counted up the empty bottles and plates beside you and told you how much you owed. I won’t mention the prices but the cost of an evening  there would hardly get you in the door of the glitzy bars that now line the Phuket beaches.

Ahhhh… for the old days.

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