The Atlanta hotel has been described as a hotel of devoted returnees, a flashback to a time forgotten. What comes to mind when I walk through the foyer are these return guests, patrons for decades, mumbling “they just don’t make them like this any more.” There is no yard as such, so no canes to be waved at the kids.
It is 1950s style deco in colours of brown and brick red. You can find it easily by the “no sex tourism” sign outside (this area is rife with that bullshit). The Atlanta Hotel maintains a 100 dish vegetarian menu (vegans beware of Quorn products) and are forever fostering a large number of rescue cats and terrapins.
Nam prik gang appeared as a tofu and pineapple stir fry with some red chilli and lots of fresh kaffir lime leaves. Like a sweet and sour dish devoid of whatever it is about sweet and sour that is typically disgusting.
Thais don’t do one dish. The meal is about mixing and matching and there is often a soup erring on the bland side to complement the set. Of course bland in Thai food is like super extra maddeningly wonderful Western food because Thais can’t make anything that doesn’t taste like heaven popped into existence in front of you in preparation for the most glorious and tasty face plant in the universe. This tofu and vermicelli soup was, of course, no exception.
Their claim to have built the first hotel pool in the city is one on which Atlanta stands its ground, and somehow I don’t have a hard time believing it. The tiles are chipped and even missing in places, and the poolside furniture are things of vintage wear and tear, but it’s in a walled garden. In Bangkok. With a terrapin rescue pool. And cats.
Different cat faces appear throughout the day in the garden and foyer area, some more friendly than others. Some are too lazy to care, and in this heat I can’t say I blame them. There’s one dog.
Its kitschy as hell and there’s little I don’t love about the place.