A series highlighting the very best in bars, pubs, taverns, saloons, commons, watering holes, cocktail lounges, drinkeries, tap rooms, ale houses, cantinas, bier halls, bacaros and izakayas around the world.
Railay beach’s nightlife exists, like everything else there, in a world of its own. Its vibe and rhythm are so in tune with the sedate pleasures of the serene surrounding shores that it’s hard to even recognize that you had a night out at all. You’re just at Railay, and this what it feels like to be here.
But of course there are bars here. The Last Bar on Railay East is the one you’ll hear the most about, and it is definitely the most attention-grabbing venue around. Loud DJ, boxing ring, fire dancers who look like they could have been linebackers. But when we were there, we found Last Bar and a some others on Railay East a little out of synch with the rest of the area. Their high-octane approach felt forced, manufactured, and, perhaps as a result, they were underpatroned. Their location on the odd, glorified concrete sidewalk that is Railay East probably didn’t do them any favors either.
But head a few minutes down the walking path to Railay West and you’ll reach the sandy sweet spot. A string of twinkling, bamboo huts that truly feel like they understand what Railay is all about. This area comes off like a village some marooned sailors might thatch together to begin a new civilization once they run out of flares. So it’s shipwreck-theme-appropriate then, that the best bar of the bunch is built to look like the bow of a pirate ship.
And if this makes The Black Pearl sound overly tacky, that’s fine. The place has no intention of even getting within the zip code of “hip”. In fact it’s much happier to revel in its own weirdness, from the noise making rubber chickens hung sporadically from the ceiling, to the empty 2-liter Sprite bottle re-fashioned into a $5 joint dispenser, to the entire language of one liners the bar staff and musicians spout out incessantly and scrawl onto open wooden surfaces in Sharpie. “Really? Railay”, “No worry, chicken curry”, “Oh my buddha”, “What the fuck I’m talking bout?” and of course, “Waaaaooow”. It feels like these guys’ entire lexicon consists of about 6 rotating phrases that can be inflected to mean whatever they need them to. You won’t understand anything being said around you despite knowing every word, but you better believe you’ll start saying them too. And by the end of the night, everyone feels included on an inside joke they weren’t around to witness forming.
So no, The Black Pearl doesn’t care if you think it’s pirate ship theme is lame. And in reality, the place is more janky beach cottage than mini golf course set piece. Its two levels (separating ground floor main bar and upstairs chill out smoking area) were built by hand seemingly out of what was around. And because the space also serves as a home for the owner/manager/main bartender, no laughably hammered nail or cheesy light decoration was implemented with anything but love, care, and probably a deep inhale.
The Black Pearl is what you were hoping you’d find in a place like this. This is hearing possibly the worst acoustic bar strummer in the world charm his way to being the best over the course of a few hours. This is debating wether your next Baht should go to beer or weed. This is deflecting drowsy advances from 50-something Canadian women who alternate between equally intense states of thirsty and asleep. This is being cut off from the rest of the mainland and reality. And who needs reality when you’re at a place like this? Let me ask that question another way: Really? Railay.
