Bangkok - Holy Khao (San)

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Monday, 26th July
And so the second half begins. The infamous 'Asia diaries' as they will come to be known upon my glorious death. For blog readers (thanks by the way) it's business as usual; mindless rants at those who don't deserve it this time with the key difference that I won't put it under the pretense Hayley believes it too. Let's leave the poor girl from being tarnished with that brush. Anywho for me it's a brand new diary, not the beaten, torn and weather-worn notebook used for South America. Better paper does not mean better quality.

In truth after a week at home I was a little apprehensive about coming away again. Living out of a backpack for an extended period can really make you appreciate the home comforts. Eventually I came to my senses and began to look forward to a much different trip to the one experienced thus far.

Our flight was a verifiable mish-mash of tourists summing up the diversity of what Thailand offers. Mostly, it's sex. Anybody who knows you're heading out here - but doesn't know the missus - can't help but tell you not to overpay. "2 girls for a quid." Helpful advice. It's not only that though. With the infamous ladyboys, ping-pong shows and happy massages it's easy to end up in the conclusion that the whole place is debauched.

Apparently it has some f**king temples too you addicts!!!

Back to the tourists. With us and a couple of other backpackers the travelling side was covered. Families; those beautiful beaches and also a couple of the strangest fellows you're likely to see. The kind of people that European prostitues who can't afford to eat would turn down as 'just not worth it'. Best of luck you wonderful weirdos. Via a 6 hour stop in Kuwait where Hayley might as well have been a car crash she was stared at so much we touched down in the cultural haven of Bangkok.

We are screwed for the way home because Kuwait Airways took all of our tickets, seemingly having never seen paper ones before. Let's bury that problem for two months.

Tuesday, 27th July
Still the same day, we've crossed too many timezones and I'm very much jetlagged. Technically I think we arrived on Tuesday, but it very well may have been last week. At the airport we were met by a woman holding our names up on a sign. Why? Perhaps she has our tickets (I thought we buried that?). She walked us all the way through customs...then left. Is jetlag just tiredness or are hallucinations included as well?

Hallucinations continued - our cab is pinker than a row of pink tents. Wait. Er. Alongside the flourescent orange and yellow other cabs streaming from the airport from the sky it must look like a packet of skittles exploded. We could see skyscrapers off in the distance, their height distracting from the manky self-built homes in front of them. All the road signs have English as second language. Early signs are that it could be more developed than South America.

We set ourselves up in our guesthouse - ROOF VIEW HOTEL - and opted for a little walk around surrounding Banglamphu. Just a cup of teas time from the main area our quiet little road is teeming with massage parlours and launderettes that look dirtier than even our grubbiest clothes from the last trip. There's no foot traffic though so at least we should get a good night's sleep. That is, if the smell of fresh farts has not seeped into the hotel. Bangkok, just as I remembered it, stinks.

Our little walk to Khao San Road - the centre of everything backpacker in BKK - was considerably slower due to the number of street vendors in adjoining roads. It's mostly food which is strange in itself as most tourists (without the penchant for suicide or at least self harm) tend to avoid the HIV satays, salmonella noodles and e-coli pad thai. There aren't too many locals to snap these delicacies up, other than the others selling it. Just like farting in bed, Hayley has well and truly banned it. Makes me wanna have it more. Damnit I'm 5 years old.

Khao San Road itself almost defies description. It's dependent on the liberal use of the word 'cesspit' but won't quite do it justice. The hostels on this road akin to Leo Di C's The Beach but 80 times as noisy. Sex tourism does not centre here (that's nearby Patpong) but it sure as hell has its pre-dinner drinks here. It's so busy too, as if no-one else really knows where else to go (which we don't). In 2 minutes I got offered 10 suits, tailors try and shake your hands then don't let go. It's hand rape.

Eventually the neon signs were giving us epilepsy so we escaped down Samsen for some dinner. We ate handsomely for just £3 (total) next to a group of Germans, one of who said 'Heil Hitler' and something else which sounded like racism to my uneducated ear. Could have been historians I suppose. On the way home I was very nearly hit by a wayward moped. Should be careful I suppose.

Wednesday, 28th July
A combination of jetlag and s*d-off-we're-on-holiday ensured we didn't rise until midday on our first full day here. We have no real intention of sticking around in Bangkok since a) it's a dump and b) we'll be back at the end of the trip. Therefore our first order of the day was get to the train station and buy a ticket. Would the tuk-tuk man take us there? Well, yes, but not until after forcing us into the Tourism Authority of Thailand. The information centre.

The information centre is also a travel agents. Right, nothing is as it seems or as you want it in Thailand. Forgot that. Instead of a 3 hour train ticket we ended up with a 9 day trip planned out. Our first little 'mugged off', probably not last. The tuk-tuk man is gonna take us to the museum now. No, he's taken us to a suit shop. Crooked b*st*rd. All for a petrol voucher.

We're getting all the tricks and scams today. The suit shops are unbelievably persistent in their sales technique. I've remained steady having just bought some suits back home but Hayley planned to get one here anyway so she got fitted. Very important to come for a try - the last one I bought here was short with massive square shoulders. Cr*p it was. Fingers crossed for Hayley. They would not leave me alone. Sorry, I have trust issues.

Finally the little so and so took us to the museum. The biggest in SE Asia, housed in a former palace. It's beautifully decorated in the temple kind of way that we didn't get over in South America. It was important for us to get a history lesson beyond what the Book of Lies has told us. The most interesting thing here was the room devoted to where Thais come from. The conclusion - Thailand. Are there any jobs going?

Aside from our history lesson in the obvious there were lots more cultural bits and pieces. There was a drum of justice but no explanation how it worked. I hit it but to my knowledge none of my enemies died. Must be broken. The weapons room was a testimony to how inventive this part of the World is in finding new ways to maim people. All of this whilst many many many buddha statues practiced the art of peace and enlightenment. It all got a little samey towards the end.

The one last little gem of the museum was the bit devoted to the King. Rules are a little different here - anything perceived 'anti-King' is a poisonable offence. A tourist was put away a few years back for graffitti'ing one of the huge portraits they have in the middle of the roads. Something as innocuous as treading on money can be trouble. Lucky it's not windy. Anywho the upshot is that as you would expect the King exhibit was nothing but a tribute. Not surprising but the man is a bit of a legend. The World's longest surviving monarch for a start, he won gold in badminton at the Asean games. All the other competitors strangely got cramp that year. He also can play 10 instruments, is an author and well-respected photographer.

And I thought all royalty did these days was wave.

In the evening we got our first downpour. It is wet season after all. The locals don't give a sh*t they just put up the tarpaulin. It's still warm after all. If anything all it did was make it smell a bit worse.

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Photos

A Roundabout
Not many of these in Milton Keynes