|
Thai tourism industry attempts to pick up the pieces
Amy Kazmin, FT Syndication Service
1/12/2005
BANGKOK: Phil Heiton, a 28-year-old IT professional, and Sally Bambach, a 28-year-old manager for a telecommunications company, flew to Bangkok last week from London and Australia respectively, as the world was still grasping the impact of the Indian Ocean tsunamis.
As the full extent of the devastation became clear, the couple discussed whether or not to go ahead with a planned beach holiday in Phuket, where the tsunamis took nearly 300 lives.
But after Heiton received an e-mail and photos from the upmarket Twin Palms hotel assuring him that both the hotel and nearby Surin Beach were undamaged, they ignored warnings to keep away and flew down to the island on January 2.
"We got a bit bloodyminded about it and decided to come," Heiton said as he sat this week in the elegant but virtually deserted Twin Palms lobby.
"I did feel a bit that maybe it was not the place to go and be happy. But it is not really like that; there seems to be a lot of solidarity between locals and tourist."
But visitors such as Heiton and Ms Bambach are scarce commodities these days in Phuket, where hotel rooms are empty and beaches deserted since the tsunamis prompted a large number of cancellations.
"If we have 20 per cent occupancy in January, we will be happy," said Olivier Gibaud, Twin Palms general manager. "If we can double that in February, we'll be very pleased."
While the tsunami devastated buildings on Thailand's famous Phi Phi island and the resorts on the long mainland beach of Khao Lak, killing thousands, the damage on the larger island of Phuket varied greatly from place to place.
While the walls of water severely damaged Patong and Kamala, other beaches, and much of the island's tourist infrastructure, emerged relatively intact, with fewer repairs required. The Pacific Asia Travel Association estimates that just 10 per cent of Phuket's hotel rooms are now out of commission.
In the immediate aftermath of the tsunamis, many European visitors who were already on Phuket's less affected beaches stayed on, completing planned vacations. But as the Christmas guests have packed their bags to go home, almost no one has come to take their place.
"In the last week, nobody has arrived from Europe or Australia," said Daniel J. Meury, general manager of The Chedi, which has 108 cottages, all but 16 perched high on a hill and untouched by the waves. The hotel, normally full in January, is now running at 20 per cent occupancy, like others. "Travel agents are not convinced enough to tell people to come here," he added.
Chartered flights to the island from Europe, and regularly scheduled flights from Korea and Hong Kong, have already been cancelled, and both Australia and the US have advised their citizens to keep away.
Phuket's vast tourist industry is struggling for a way to lure tourists back, without appearing insensitive to the grief of the thousands of families, both foreign and Thai, who lost loved ones when the tsunamis hit Thailand.
Hoteliers contend that tourist cancellations simply add to the hardship in Phuket, which hosted 4.5m visitors last year.
"What a place like Phuket really needs is for people to return, so that those not affected can earn a living," said Debbie Dionysius, marketing director for Laguna Phuket, a five-hotel resort compound, with 1,100 rooms, that has seen $6m (euro4.5m, £3.2m) worth of cancellations. "If people can't earn a living, they'll be even worse off.
Hoteliers are pinning hopes for some recovery on a large inflow during February's lunar new year -- a peak season for Asia travel but they may be disappointed, as regional travel agencies say their skittish clients are already changing beach holiday plans.
"Asians are very superstitious, and there are a lot of superstitions involved with death on this scale," said Vijay Verghese, who runs Smart Travel Asia, a website.
The pain of big hotels is shared by the owners of Phuket's legion of small tourist-oriented businesses including dive shops, travel agents, restaurants and bars, many of which are run by people such as Natchaya Maudmuangklang, 33, who was sitting, staring out to sea, at Patong beach at sunset this week.
Just eight months ago, Ms Natchaya opened her tiny traditional Thai massage business near the Patong Beach front, using Bt200,000 ($5,100, euro3,900, £2,730) savings from her past job at a hotel spa, and Bt300,000 her father borrowed from a state bank.
But the shop -- optimistically named Ruang Ruan (or "Prosperity") Thai Massage -- was severely damaged and its furniture lost in the tsunami. Though the site is now cleaned up, Ms Natchaya, a native of Thailand's poorer north-eastern region, said she saw little point in reopening, given that there were few potential clients.
"My dream has crashed with the tsunamis," she said. But she said she and her eight staff, all of whom come from Thailand's north-east, will try to hold out on the island for a brighter day. "If we go back home, what will we go back to?"
|