cha-am -- Alila, where less is more

Alila is minimalistic with a lower case ‘m’ because to use a capital letter would be just a little bit too much for it.

It strives for --and reaches -- a state of Zen. The bare concrete bunker-like walls are rough screed with nary a picture nor photograph for relief. Wood is used heavily. The tones are earthy, muted. And water, in pools and ponds, is everywhere. But in strict rectangular formats. Even the pot plant – yes, singular – in the room is a dried brown arrangement.


But maybe it’s this very visual vacuum that allows the imagination to roam, and the senses to fill themselves in other ways.

This way you notice the jazztronica lounge music seeping from the waterproof Bose speakers outside Motion restaurant. Or you indulge yourself fully in the 3000-inch TV in your room, with your choice of dozens of movies and hundreds of pre-loaded songs on Apple TV. I never appreciated lounge music before – found it aimlessly meandering,frankly – but at Alila it makes perfect sense. It’s a tailor-made musical score.

In the room with its soaring ceiling height, and all the furniture and fittings being floor-to-ceiling heighten that spatial effect, the rain shower is a joy. Liberation at the turn of a tap. It becomes a makeshift dancefloor where you can groove to the music which – a rarity in a hotel – actually goes to ‘11’ so you can revel in it. Jing jing!

What about your neighbours? At Alila, everything is solid, so you don’t seem to need to worry about noise. The walls seem metres thick. The feature furniture is huge chunks of timeless timber.

At Red Bar finally I find some colour: you guessed it, red. And then the LEDs change to yellows and blues. I sink into the sofa and soak in the pool scene: all young couples. All paired off. An over representation of young Thai men. All paired off.

A spa treatment continues the languid sensory indulgence. The signature here is a combination of Thai and Balinese strokes. I sleep through much of it such is my soothed state. Zen bliss.

And Zen, sorry, then move up to the Clouds loft for dinner, where the view back over the rooftop pond to the open air lobby at the other end is almost transcendental. The chef produces a gourmet feast of Mediterranean-style dishes here. Beef fillet topped with lobster. Seared tuna. Ravioli with prawn. Heavenly.

I can see why people come back to Alila so often. I fully get it. Who wouldn’t want more of this? With a lower case ‘m’ of course. Because less is more here. And Zen is now.

Cha-Am -- a charming seaside town

Where the hell is Cha-Am? is a reasonable question. You see I’d been travelling to Thailand for about 20 years before I ever even heard the name much less visited the place.

To break the suspense, it’s about 130 km south west of Bangkok; about 30 km north of Hua Hin. Got it now?

In fact no one is quite sure where Cha-Am finishes and Hua Hin starts. They sort of blur into one, sharing the same local attractions between them. But Hua Hin is the bigger of the two, having started way back with the Royal summer resort connection and the fabled railway since 1911.

‘Hua Hin seemed to get the high end, and Cha-Am the cheap end of the market,’ says Khun Panit, manager of the Veranda resort in Cha-Am, ‘but that’s all changing now.’ He talks of how the Dusit, the Sofitel were already in Hua Hin 10 years ago when he first arrived, then came the Hyatt, the Hilton, now the InterCon ‘and the new brand names are still coming.’

He points out that the trend in Cha-Am is now towards the more upscale market ‘with a lot of boutique resorts like Alila moving in’.

Ironically the Veranda calls itself Veranda Hua Hin Cha-Am. ‘We push it to the border,’ laughs the amiable hotelier. ‘Customers overseas know where Hua Hin is. But in fact Cha-Am has better beaches.' The Courtyard by Marriott similarly bills itself as ‘Hua Hin at Cha-Am Beach’.

The beach in fact is a long beautiful stretch that goes on endlessly, with deckchairs and umbrellas, and blue wooden fishing boats sitting high and dry at the high water mark.  Strolling along the beach front road, fishing nets and paraphernalia are strung out, and there’s a rather pungent smell of fish in the air. A sure sign of the freshest seafood, ironically ...

A popular strip of restaurants is a magnet, especially for Bangkokians at the weekend. While the Horny Gecko restaurant does a roaring trade (more to farangs with its more polished appearance – it has walls and a roof for instance), those in the know head to Sung Wean, an authentic seafood restaurant right in the sand. Hundreds of tables are plonked on the beach, shaded by seemingly thousands of red, blue and green beach umbrellas. This is fine when it’s sunny, and just a little humorous when the monsoon rains come sweeping in … and torrents of leaking water force diners to stand on their seats, shielding their main courses from the drips.

But the food … steamed fish, grilled prawns, steamed green-lipped mussels (a whole dish for only 80 baht). Oh, to die for! And mains cost between 100-250 baht only. ‘The portions are massive and incredible value for money,’ enthuses Panit. ‘There’s a waiting list every weekend.’

Same for Platoo restaurant, in the vicinity of Marriott. A barn of a place facing the beach, but with real walls and a thatched roof and everything. Great seafood at the same prices. But bigger. Think tour buses, and staff calling through orders on wireless radios. Not as charming but the food is mouthwatering.

And at the northern end, hundreds of umbrella-covered deckchairs. Beyond the beach and the boats, the breakwater keeps the ocean at bay, providing a charming safe haven where kids fly kites and ponies wait for pint-sized passengers.

If you haven’t heard of Cha-Am before – or even if you have – you’re going to be hearing a lot more of it from now, jing jing.