songkhla: where the heat checks your patience and the markets check your wallet

i woke up to a room that smells like oysters and regret. not because i ate them, but because the weather is like a toddler who won’t stop sweating on your shirt. it’s 28.64°C right now, feels like 30.3, which is basically a sauna that’s outside and insists you still need sunscreen. anyone who’s ever tried to nap in this kind of weather knows it’s a losing battle.



like everyone else here, i’m just sweating through my linen shirt while asking myself why i thought a ‘chill’ destination would be a good idea. but whatever. the chaos is part of the charm. or so they say.



if you get bored, hat yai is just a short drive away. maybe that’s why the locals keep muttering it like a curse. i heard that the old market there has a stall selling mangoes so big they look like they’re ripe just to mess with you. someone also warned me not to trust the cyclo driver who sells you ‘artisanal’ snake wine - apparently, he’s been known to swap the bottle for a soda at midnight. uh-huh.



so i wandered into this street that’s supposed to be ‘historic’ but honestly just looked like a maze of concrete and forgotten dreams. the walls have that damp-hot smell, and i swear there’s a ghost humming along somewhere. a local told me that the temple at the end of the street is haunted by a monk who play the flute every full moon. i didn’t see him, but i did hear a really weird, high-pitched sound as i passed.

“the fog here isn’t atmospheric, it’s a personality test,”

someone dared to say while holding a iced soy latte. i’m not sure if they were serious or just trying to sound profound. either way, they were right - this place has that ‘i’m not phased by your weirdness’ vibe. or maybe that’s just the humidity talking.



i took a million photos, mostly of things that annoyed me. like that rattan bench covered in moss that looked like it was judging me. or the sign that said ‘no dogs’ in five different languages, which is wild because the closest dog i saw was a stray guarding a mango and looking judgmental too. one of the ads on a billboard promised ‘authentic crab soup’ but when i asked directions, the vendor just stared at me like i’d asked for the meaning of life.



the weather isn’t just hot - it’s theatrical. it’s the kind of heat that makes you rethink your life choices, like why you thought ‘sunburn’ was a casual act. i almost got sunburned on my own forehead while trying to take a selfie with this weird jungle Vista camera that someone left on a rickety table. also, why is there a yoga studio on the same block? are they trying to sell enlightenment while you sweat through a chants shirt? yes. yes they are.



the neighbors? well, they’re either napping in their air-conditioned rooms or running errands with frozen yogurt bags. i saw this weird couple arguing in the street earlier - one was yelling about the price of fresh shrimp, the other was convinced it was a scam. turned out they were both right. shrimp is both the best and the most expensive here. someone also told me that if you start questioning it, the shrimp will just vanish from the market. i’m running with that theory.



anyway, back to my map thing. here’s a view of the chaos:

. this isn’t a route, just a snapshot of where i feel lost most of the time. maybe that’s the point.



i grabbed random photos of stuff that exists here. like this one of a red van covered in graffiti - it’s like a mobile art gallery for people who don’t own walls. or this photo of a street where the benches are missing and replaced by… who knows? maybe a pile of discarded flip-flops. i’ll call it ‘abstract architecture’.

i left a few reviews scattered here, which i swear i heard from locals. one said, ‘someone told me the dessert place is closed on tuesdays - but only if you ask on a tuesday.’ another warned, ‘the bike rentals are sketchy. one guy tried to sell me a helmet that looked like a potato.’ and here’s the real kicker: a pub was slammed for serving beer that tasted like regret. i checked yelp and it has a 1-star review that says, ‘i’m not even mad, just disappointed.’ classic.



so why am i still here? don’t ask. maybe because the coffee here is so good it could rebuild my faith in humanity. or maybe because i found this weird bookstore that sells chapbooks with hand-drawn cats. not related to anything, really. but they had one about a cat who became a weather forecaster. it’s called paws and pressure systems - which is exactly what i need right now.



if you’re reading this and you’re in songkhla, don’t trust anyone with a black umbrella. they’re probably just trying to scam you into buying sunscreen. also, avoid the third entrance to any market. i heard a rumor - or so i was told by a drunk idiot - that there’s a ghost cat waiting there to steal your mangoes. probably a lie. but who knows?



this place is messy, loud, and weird. but that’s why it’s human. the next day, i’m leaving with a sunburn and a notebook full of questions. like why do the locals wear their sunscreen in jars? or why is the cicada noise louder than the traffic? i’ll figure it out someday. probably after another acne night.