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Now, speaking of TERRIFYING ferry boats, our 3 hour boat trip from Koh Tao to Chumpon, on the Thai mainland, firmly placed my heart in my throat and I think I have some new grey hair. When the huge boat pulled up at the ferry, with calm waters and sunny skies, Kris and I thought, now WHY are all of the windows sealed and why is the boat sopping wet all over? Was it raining somewhere?
No, it's just that the boat flies across the open sea at something like 500 million knots per hour, against the current. The result is a mammoth boat filled with people literally jumping over massive waves and rocking violently back and forth. Plus they were showing some tomb raider movie on the boat which was all about scuba diving disasters and lots of boats sinking and death at sea, etc. It wasn't fun.
We had time for a quick meal in Chumpon before boarding the luxury night bus (double decker, AC and blankets, woo-hoo!!) to Bangkok. We arrived at 4am and wandered on over to Kao San, the backpacker's district. I haven't been to Bangkok for 6 years, at boy has it
changed. It's really cleaned up its act... last time I was there it was smog and pollution everywhere and Kao San was much grimier. Now it looks a bit like a long lost cousin of Las Vegas, bustling with bars, restaurants and lady boys. We stopped for a coffee at 5 AM to get our bearings and were surrounded by late-night revellers having one last drink and carousing down the street.
Ram Bhuttri is a cute little backpacker's street a couple blocks away from Kao San, overflowing with guest houses and restaurants. We found a nice place that was cheap cheap and (relatively) clean and settled in for a few days of sightseeing. After sorting out our round the world tickets (with the most lovely helpful woman in the world at Qantas -- yes, they do exist! we were shocked...), we checked out China town and the pagoda of the
Golden Buddha -- wat Trai Mit. The world's largest solid-gold buddha, it had been covered with stucco for hundreds of years to protect it from being taken by the invading Burmese. No one realised what was underneath until 1955, when a huge chunk of stucco was damaged
while transporting the statue to Wat Tri Mit, revealing the shiny golden surface underneath. So I guess the guy who banged it up was off the hook...
Since we were feeling all at home in Chinatown (it's just like the one in New York!), we had some dim sum and checked out the food market. I have no idea what the hell they were selling in there, but we did see lots of dried shark fins and other sketchy delicacies. It's really tragic that millions of shark are killed every year, just for the fins. Fishermen trap the shark, cut off the dorsal fins, and throw them back to sea, where they die, since they can't swim anymore and likely are attacked by other fish. I feel so lucky to be able to explore the oceans now, while there is still amazing sea life, but honestly, many places we've been to snorkle and scuba dive are already showing signs of too much tourism. Dead coral reefs spread along pristine coasts, killed by snorkeler's fins or petrol-laced water from speed boats. Coral are actually animals, not plants, and they're incredibly sensitive. In Perhentian, they have started an initiative to ban
fins for snorkellers, because since many of the SE Asians don't know how to swim, they (and others) doggie paddle over to the nearest reef and climb on (and then stick their face masks in the water and freak out if they manage to see a fish they haven't scared off with all the splashing and yelling). Anyway... end of tangent.
Once we hit the mainland, we also realised that we had graduated from "yes madame rickshaw" from India to "hello lady tuk tuk". Everywhere we walk, we're greeted with the same welcome as tuk tuk drivers try to lure us into their waiting rickshaws. It's nice they all know us by name!
I headed off to the French embassy the next morning to see about getting my carte de sejour for France and witnessed lots of French couples with little Thai babies, sorting out their papers and passports for the adoptions. I'm not sure how much red tape is involved, but since being in Thailand and Cambodia, I've seen countless western couples with little kids, obviously coming here for a quick adoption. Kris and I met up and had a fancy spa day of mani/pedi and 9-step
Thai facial. A day of pampering, how lovely.... yeah right. I went to bed early, but woke up early the next morning with a really sore head, feeling like I was hung over. Wait a second, that can't be right, I thought. I went to the bathroom to splash water on my face and there, staring back at me, was my face, ballooned to twice the size, with deep dark black circles under my eyes. I looked like the loser in a Thai boxing match. I must have been really allergic to one or more of the 9 steps in that facial. I went downstairs and got some ice and laid on a couch with a compress over my eyes, which helped a little bit. No, I didn't take a picture. I now have a healthy respect for beauty parlors.
Undeterred by my fabulous appearance, we headed out for the
Grand Palace that morning to roam the over-the-top oppulant grounds of the royal family. The compound houses shrines containing Buddhist scriptures, life-sized golden statues of former kings, and even the breastbone of the Buddha. There are also reception halls and residential quarters for visiting dignataries. Can't imagine a more
impressive place to be put up for a couple of nights on a state visit. We also saw the famous
Emerald Buddha (which is actually made of jade, but the priest who discovered it didn't know the difference. Same story -- covered in stucco and then damaged in transport to reveal the beautiful statue inside). The statue sits high atop golden and jewelled thrones and guard statues in a temple with walls gorgeously painted with scenes from the Ramayana (the quintessentia Buddhist and Hindu tale of a warrior god), and golden and red engraved ceilings. We sat and soaked in the beautiful sight, careful not to point our feet in the direction of the Buddha statue, which is essentially the equivalent of flipping your middle finger at a crucifix. It's also taboo for the soles of your feet to walk over anybody in your way -- you need to walk around -- as it sends a message that the person is lower than the dirtiest part of your body. Women are forbidden to touch monks and touching the top of someone's head is also a sign of disrespect, since this is the highest, and enlightened, part of the body. Phew...
these are the things nobody tells you, so you need to read up before you thoroughly embarrass yourself.
Our next visit was to Jim Thompson's house, the legendary American entrepreneur who is lovingly remembered as Thailand's most famous farang (foreigner). Thompson was a former agent of the OSS (which became the CIA) and was involved in secret operations in the Far East before retiring to Bangkok. He admired the fine silks in Thailand and realising that nobody else had jumped on the export bandwagon, he created a massive export empire, introducing Thai textiles to the world. On a trip to the Camaroon Highlands in Borneo in 1967, he mysteriously disappeared one afternoon, while out for a walk. His house, which was built of reassembled Thai houses from the north, is a beautiful compound filled with his astounding collection of Thai art, furnishings and tapestries. The houses were built without using a single nail and are surrounded by meditation gardens (and filled with tourists)!
We had a night out on Kao San before our early morning bus to Cambodia. We were Angkor Wat-bound, to see some of the over 100 ancient temples spread over a 3,000 km radius, built
1,000 years ago. We'll be in Thailand again early September before we fly off to Oz, so we'll explore the north and then back to Bangkok.
Overall, it was a great visit and really impressive to see how the city has changed. Bangkok is a great mix of ancient with cutting edge, filled with shopping malls and the super-cool sky train. In the meantime, we're off to Cambodia, Vietnam (where our friend Evie is coming to visit for two weeks from NYC!) and Laos.... stay tuned.
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