Ban Song Thai

Carved fruit, macramed loo roll and courtesy chocs on pillows you won’t get. Bed is a mattress on the floor and en suite means a mere basin and tap. There’s no pool, room service, MTV or air-con either. Swimming is a canal, music is bug buzz and the ambient temperature is a steamy-hot degrees C. There is only one way to taste Thailand. And, for me, this is it. Without garnish. In a ban song Thai - a traditional Thai house. The perfect antidote to the suffocating anaesthetic of corporate hotels. Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn? No thanks. I’ll take a hut - and in the jungle, please.