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Published: March 28th 2012
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Before I could exit Suvarnabhumi International Airport
I felt the 95%!h(MISSING)umidity smack me in the face. I broke a sweat instantly carrying my bags to the hotel shuttle. It was 11 pm. I should forewarn you I am going to be brutally honest about Bangkok and it may alter some future travel plans if you think like me. Bangkok is hands down the most in your face city on this planet. No question. Imagine Las Vegas in a jungle with less gambling, more drugs, and 1000^5 times more sex. You may adore Bangkok if you fall into any of the following categories; hippy-backpacker, elderly man shopping for a wife one-third your age, a ladyboy (or have the desire to transform), a bachelor in town for his last night of prenuptial sin, or a Euro frat boy. I am none of these. I won’t go into extreme detail but it is everything and more that you see or hear about it in movies. Unfortunately one actually has to pursue Thai food, there is minimal Thai culture, and Bangkok is the mecca for lazy scam artists.
It seems anyone involved in tourism is out scam you; sell you the company
of a lady for the night, drag you into their “cousins” store, or charge exorbitant rates for any kind of ride or directions. Tuk tuk drivers are the worst. Bangkok is however one of the most international cities in the world. You can easily meet people from any corner of the world and in one city block find just about any ethnicity of food. Is it worth going and seeing and checking off your list? Yes, absolutely. Is it worth going for six days? No. Thailand has so much more to see. I should add, I am not alone in this thought. I either know or met 11 foreigners and countless Thai’s from other parts of the country who all share the exact same opinions of Bangkok as me. Nevertheless, off my soapbox, after being there 3 days too many I climbed aboard a 14-hour night train to Chiang Mai.
Chiang Mai is an ancient and relatively small city in Northern Thailand. What appeared to be ancient walls and a moat surround the old city that is now downtown. However further inspection uncovered a sign that read, “Portions of the ancient wall still exist here from 1200
something, but the majority of the current wall was constructed in 1986.” Funny how the ancient wall is only one year my senior, however there was a moat, and moats always score points in my book. Chiang Mai was much more quaint than Bangkok with far fewer Chester’s running around so it was a step in the right direction. One night in Chiang Mai and we set out on the hidden gem of the trip, a four day trek through the mountains and jungles of northern Thailand.
Crammed in the bed of a Toyota Tacoma with six Europeans, going up and down half-a-lane mountain roads after eating green curry almost ended very badly. Out of the truck we walked a 4-wheeler sized path for about 4 hours to reach our domicile for the evening. It was a village similar to that you see on the save a starving child commercial. Wooden shacks jacked up on stilts on a hillside surrounded by rice fields. The generous people who opened up their homes for us were of the Karen minority. Karen people are an ethnic group primarily from Myanmar (Burma) who are often prosecuted by the Myanmar government and
even victims of ethnic cleansing. As a result many of them flea across the border into Northern-Thailand. Karen people also have their own language and culture. The village had around 50 people and had no choice but to be self sufficient when the nearest resident is a two hour ride on scooter through the mountains. No running water, no power, eating the same foods I helped plant or kill earlier in the day was definitely “off the grid.” I bought over priced little trinkets from the children and gave them U.S. coins and I realized the delicate balance of what I was partaking in. If these people were to see too many tourists and receive substantial money they would change their way of life and lose what I was there to see.
The next day we walked to another village where we got to ride elephants. Elephants are much more agile and coordinated than we give them credit for. The elephants took us a long a mountain path that was no wider than three feet in most places, but it was smooth ride on the sure-footed giant. The elephants were used primarily for timbering but everyday after
their work is done they get to go run free wherever they want. It was nice to see these elephants were not living in cages walking circles all day with humans on their backs and not dependent on humans for resources. The last leg of our trek was a four-hour bamboo rafting trip through Jurassic Park looking jungles. For the return journey I easily chose the one-hour flight back to Bangkok (bypassed the 14 hour train ride) then on to my last destination Ko Chang.
After the flight, the subway, the skytrain, the five hour bus ride, and the one hour ride in the back of a unsettling mans Datsun pick up, I finally arrived at what should have been the ferry. Enter colossal oversight. Ko Chang is a relatively undeveloped island due to its National Park status in the eastern Gulf of Thailand close to the Cambodia border. Its exclusiveness was the reason it was added to the travel itinerary, however this same reason at the moment put me in a pickle. The ferry from the mainland only runs from 8am to 7pm and it was 10:30 pm. The only option was to charter a private 50 ft. passenger boat for 3,000 Thai baht. As ballin’ as it sounds its only about $100 so my 3 cohorts and I decided this midnight amphibious landing was worth the cost. The island was exactly what I hoped it was; quiet, secluded, and relaxing. One night I even got to enjoy a concert from a Grammy winning voice. Your probably asking “what Grammy winning singer would be performing at a dive bar on an unheard of Thai island?” Fair question. Ray Horton, “The real voice of Milli Vanilli.” If your too young or your radio was broke in 1989, Milli Vanilli was a duo of suave looking European black guys who won a Grammy for best new artist in 1990 only to have it revoked after it got out these two gents couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and the voices on the album were not theirs. However one of the real voices was my main man Ray Horton who was calling Ko Chang home for a few days at the same time as myself.
The people of Ko Chang undid all the ill will I had towards Bangkokians. Every waiter, bartender, taxi driver, and maid was extremely pleasant and friendly. The local girls on the island would have a normal conversation with you that did not involve your salary or plans for the night. So all’s well that ends well, next time I’ll stay for twice as long and carry half as much stuff. So back to Bangkok, on to Shanghai, and finally reached the polluted air of my city, Zhengzhou, home sweet home, where taxi drivers run the meters and being white isn’t a set up for a scam. It has a certain blue-collar rural charm that I was beginning to long for.
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