Beauty and the Beast

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I did not know what to expect with Bangkok. I have heard many stories, some good and some seriously awful. I was excited and nervous at the same time. To get there I had to get a now relatively simple twelve hour bus. Twelve hours on a bus, in the UK, sounds ridiculous but in Asia it is a different story. These trips occur very often and if I couldn't deal with them, I wouldn't get anywhere.

Listening to fellow travellers, I avoided picking a guest house in the infamous Khao San Road, which I found out means Uncooked Rice Road. Just a little bit of pub ammo for you quizzers out there. It was the place to go to but not to reside, so I perched myself a ten minute walk away. I found an absolute blinder of living arrangements, called Villa Guest House. Unlike most others, this guest house was literally a large house. It was a traditional Thai house, one hundred years old with all the trimmings. No bed bugs, no mosquitoes and already cool enough not to need air-con. I even got free tea. The quiet older couple, who ran it, were warm and lovely too. So simple yet so brilliant. Other guest houses can take page out from The Villa book. Bangkok did not seem so bad after all.

Temple hopping was on the cards, on the first day. The walk was to consist of the holy trinity: Wat Phra Kaew, Wat Pho and Wat Arun. The former is the grandest, largest and contains the arguably the most precious object in Buddhism, the Emerald Buddha Wat Phra Kaew is nothing like I'd ever seen before. Granted, it was only the second temple site I had been to, in Thailand, but the range of architecture was mind-blowing. The vast array of colour, style and size shouldn't have worked. Somehow the mixture of this religious madness fitted together. Every corner there was something new to see. Inside the largest boht (hall) sat the emerald Buddha. To get there I had to pass through the door guarded by the mythical giants called yaksha. These statues were my favourite objects on the site. They stood tall and skillfully decorated above me as I entered the huge temple room. The Emerald Buddha is less than a metre high but still gives off a enchating aura. It glowed a bluey-green in the incandescent light and I couldn't help staring, transfixed on the object. Again, like the inside Taj Mahal, no photos inside but many tourists just ignored this, showing a complete lack of respect. No point making an issue of it, just bad karma for them.

Wat Pho (prounouned Po like the Teletubby) was as mesmirising but completely different. This temple held the most Buddha images, of any other temple in Thailand, and held a 46m long Gold Reclining Buddha. Every nook and cranny of the area had a gold Bhudda statue. The recliner was something else altogether. It is almost bursting out of its building. Being so large yet so much detail in areas of the sculpture made this a true feat of engineering.

A choppy ferry ride across the Mae Nam Chao Phraya (main river in Bangkok), which only cost me the equivalent of six British pennies, got me to my final destination, Wat Arun. It is a formidable 82m high prang (Khmer style tower) that I was able to climb up halfway to give me fantastic views over the river. I could see river dwellings on stilts that looked like they would collapse any minute, the amazing array of temples at Wat Phra Kaew, the modern business district and much more. Not a bad place to watch the world go by.

The following day I decided to go to the local floating market, in Taling Chan, which is on the western side of Bangkok. Clear and suprisingly breezy weather made this an altogether more pleasurable experience. Great for photo taking opportunities and by definition it was floating but I think this is mainly used as a selling point. Virtually all of the canoes were moored, mainly being used as kitchen areas. There were a few ladies selling fruit and vegetables although it was not the out and out madness I expected. I'm guessing I would have to go completely out of the way to find one of these. Nonetheless, it was an nice experience with a positive local family atmosphere. I even had some fried fish and satay that was cooked in a canoe. Not something I can say everyday.

To conclude the temple run, I took a taxi to the Eastern side of the city. The taxi dropped me off where the sight was to the right of where he stopped. I threw some money at him, ran to the left. He shouted, "but it's over there!". I sharply replied, "I'm deperate for the toilet!" Being a Sunday, most restaurants were shut and I was at full sprint ready to release my number two. There must have been something wrong with my satay. I found a a place. "Toilet!" The lady did not understand. I did the action of going for a wee. She understood. On the way I banged my head. Thais are all so short. This did not matter because I made it. Hooray! On the flip side, I had a bruised head and it was the beginning of a few days of awful toilet banter. After my escapade, I ventured up to a hill top temple called the Golden Mount. This had arguably better views than Wat Arun. Unfortunately, the toilet called again just after this. I went to near McDonald's. I had to wait for the longest ten minutes of my life. God knows what the young chap was doing in there. Then I went in and found he had clogged up the whole thing. I ran out McD's as fast as possible to repeat my what happened earlier in the day. What a day! But not the good type.

In the title, "The Beast" is a reference towards Uncooked Rice Road. It seemed every tourist in Bangkok was here. With my now South-east Asian tan, I did not receive half as much hassle as my western associates. Others received hundreds of offers for tuk-tuks, fake ID cards, sunglasses and everything you think of. For me, it was nothing in comparison to Delhi, although I can understand if people who have just landed can struggle. The evenings on the road were pleasant because the locals seemed to want to join in the fun. Live music is a big thing here. Some of the guitarists were very talented and I could even understand what they were singing. My Lonely Planet explained if I have not seen a rendition of Hotel California than I have not really seen Bangkok. What do you think happened. It was the third song played, after Jack Johnson and Jason Mraz.

Another evening I was having a quiet drink before my bus journey the next day. That all changed when I heard to gentleman ask the waitress, "How do you say thank you, in Thai?" She Did not understand so I inervened and explained they should say, "Korp Kun Krap". They both gave the phrase a go and the waitress smiled. The two guys were Dutch and had only arrived within the last couple of days. They were Martijn and Maarten with the former having his twenty-first birthday that night. A big celebration was in order.

It all started with Manchester United winning against Chelsea. We discovered when a goal was scored in the first minute, more than half the street went mental. During the match a attractive young looking Thai girl, with her family, kept on looking over at Martijn. Signs looked good for later. The boys went to their closeby hotel room to freshen up. They had a safety deposit box that came with the room. The usual stuff was in there like passports and money but strangely there were also condoms. It was the easiest pun ever: "That is the definition of safe sex!" We went back downstairs to find the girl, with family still there. She had had a few to drink and came over say hello. The "young" girl ended up being thirty-one. Martijn could not believe it but that did not stop him. The girl's younger brother started a small street party due to his quality dance skills. It was only the family, the dutch boys and myself. Top notch fun. We even got the extremely cute five year old sister dancing. A little boy came to sell flowers and I bought three. I distributed them to Martijn, Maarten and kept one for myself. We gave them to the "young" Thai girl, a girl from a nearby group of girls and the five years old liitle sister respectively. Martijn ended up getting a big wet kiss for it. I should be a matchmaker! As the night progressed we went to a couple of clubs. Along the way, two Dutch girls tagged along. The boys were more intersted in the local talent and the Dutch girls were furious by the end. The night finished in a Moroccan owner where the waiters wore fez hats. Martijn sprinted back to the room first and left Maarten. He wanted to get the room to himself. I found out a couple of days later it worked. Awesome. All I had to do was wake up the next day after only two hours sleep, pack my bag and get a nine o'clock bus. Why do I continue to make it hard for myself?!

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Photos

Young Monk Feeding the Pigeons
My favourite picture in Thailand so far

Colourful Ties
This material is tied in a knot around a small pillar as a ritual