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Published: February 4th 2010
Thirty-three Singapore Dollars plus ten percent service charge plus government tax is how Raffles Hotel keeps backpacking scum like us out.
Lovely white colonial building tinkling with gentle music. Quiet understated elegance. Cool courtyard and plush bars. Carefully modulated tones. All stricken to a standstill by...
“How much for a gin sling? Timothy, this is ridiculous. We are not paying that.” Yes that is right, for once I am the penny pinching sand crab tightie.
Tim’s face fell, but I stood firm against the blatant rapacious greed of the capitalistic imperialistic overpriced tourist trap-ist Raffles. Silently Tim, Hugh and Arlene followed me out and instead we went back to the hostel where the boys had beer and the girls shared a bottle of cold white wine. All for less than Thirty-three Singapore dollars plus ten percent service charge plus government tax.
Sweet Singapore is a balm to the soul after India. It is a beautiful, clean, orderly and efficient city state. It is a crème brulee - smooth, sweet and undemanding. Of course you have to behave and you are not allowed to carry water on the MRT or walk around naked but apart from that it
Grand Palace
Wow - this is over feast for the eyes!is a relief to be here.
We visited the Botanical gardens and amidst intense heat and humidity we were given the opportunity to admire an abundance of plants and in particular we spent most of our time in the Orchid Garden. If you go nowhere else in Singapore you must go to the Botanical Gardens. The colour and splendour of the orchids are pure delight.
The hostel is clean and more than that it is cleaned every day with proper cleaning material not just a mop and some water arbitrarily splashed about. I lay that first night in the dormitory surrounded by 20 other people all snoring and snuffling to their own sleeping rhythms. It is hot and humid and the air conditioning has only just been turned on. I sigh deeply feeling at peace with the world and before I know it am fast asleep.
I desperately want to go to the Water World where they have fish that will eat the dead skin off your feet. I have been saving up all the dead skin and refusing to use a pumice stone. I view the prices with a grim face - I want to go
but I was not going to pay over sixty-two Singapore Dollars to get in. You may be wondering what has happened to me, but in fact the cost of Singapore is a complete shock after India. I was having adjustment problems. We all felt it best that we move on to Thailand as quickly as possible.
We flew into Bangkok where we would get visas at the airport upon proof of flights to leave. As we start our descent I realise that I left the return tickets at the airport when we checked in. Little minor panic there I must confess - will we be turned away? How strict are they? I have no idea what to expect. Tim shrugs - what will be will be. Arlene buys me a tin of white wine. All we can do now is wait to see what happens.
No questions are asked and we are in! Yahoo! Grab a taxi and off to the next hostel - where we are in rooms not dorms and where there is a small pool. Much needed in the absolute sweltering heat and humidity of Bangkok. I am a little taken aback at how modern
everything is. In my mind’s eye Bangkok was older and ramshackle and dirty and run down. This is a modern city with wide roads and courteous driving. Not one single hoot in the hour long journey from airport to hostel. How weird, I think, what a strange way to drive.
I cannot understand the Thai accent. It is rare indeed for me to be able to distinguish between their speaking Thai or their speaking Ongri.
“Wha u wa-a ga?”
I gazed at the taxi driver blankly. One of the others gave him the address of our hostel without pause.
“Yai flo Ronron?”
“Yes,” said Hugh
“What has Hugh just agreed to?” I whispered sotto voce to Tim.
“That we are from London,” he answered.
Hmm. I am going to battle a little here I can see.
“Hai mu yo ho-te?” the taxi driver suddenly said
“350 baht,” Tim answered
“Haha gor”
Everyone nods wisely!
What? What? What are they talking about?
Before leaving on our travels so many people said to me that it was better to get into Bangkok and then get the
That hideous brown blouse is not mine
I had to borrow it to cover the tops of my arms in order to be allowed in to the Grand Palace hell out of there as quickly as possible, but I loved it. In Bangkok you can walk along the road and no one hassles you, there was hardly a beggar in sight and plus and this is a huge huge plus - Bangkok as the” Magic Market”. If you do nothing else in your life you must go to the weekend market. It is the biggest market in the whole of Asia and it is fabulous. No stress if you go early enough in the morning - be there by ten and have in your mind exactly what you want to buy. And I swear to you - by magic - you will find it. I call it the Magic Market but the people of Bangkok call it Chatuchak.
I buy some scarves for myself made of silk. I buy two cushion covers - made of silk.
I hate my clothes especially my tops. I can buy a couple more really cheaply and in the bin goes that ever faithful white top you have seen in most of my photo’s . These new ones will be binned in the future but at the moment I am at the
Evening Viewing
from our rustic island retreat start of an intense love affair with them.
Second hand books - in English. I must have something to read but cannot afford anything new.
A towel for the beach.
A beer. Well it’s shockingly hot in the market in Bangkok so respite is required. We all know how much hard work enjoyable shopping is.
I vow to return to Bangkok in the future if only to go to the market again - and I went three times in total. I think of my cousin Colleen - this would be her heaven and I wish she were with me. She is the greatest shopper I know and believe you me I have known some! Is anyone up for a trip to Bangkok with me?
Two girls at one of the counters in a shop in Bangkok look at me and smile. They whisper to each other and then one of them comes up to me and says:
“Ah ruv yoh aiya. Mah fren ruv dem. We se yoh ruvry aiya n smai-ah.”
Amazing thing is I instantly understood that. Vanity eh! Works wonders.
”I love your eyes. My friend loves them. We Morning swim
By 7.00am hot enough for a swim...as you can see the surf is real tough there! say that you have lovely eyes and smile.”
It isn’t possible to shop all the time - not when on a limited budget and so the Bangkok experience is broken and we leave on an overnight bus to enjoy the “living on a tropical island” experience. The bus is luxurious but bounces about the road so much I feel as if I am on a trampoline. It sways like a large old elephant moving swiftly through the night in order to deposit us at the jetty in Ranong where we now have to wait a few hours for the boat to take us to the island. By 8.30am it is hot and we are tired and just want to get on with the rest of the journey. Tim and Hugh have had breakfast but Arlene and I can’t face it. What we discover we can face, however, is a Singha. All 4 of us enjoy the cool reviving drink without conscience.
When we arrived at the island I fell off the boat and got caught by a small motherly Thai lady who said to me:
“Bai calfur” she greeted me
“Bai calfur” I replied clutching on
to her shoulders.
“Yahai bai calfur.”
I staggered on the beach beneath the interested gaze of those visitors already inhabiting the island. At the point I was yet to realise that the most exciting event of the day was the arrival of the boat with supplies and possible new arrivals. My elegant entrance could well have been a topic of conversation. I wondered if I should call out the new Thai greeting I had learnt but was happy I hadn’t when Hugh later explained to me in private that “Bai calfur” means “Be careful.” And it isn’t even Thai.
Our huts are rustic and very simple. Showers with cold water only - although by the end of the day the water has been heated by the sun and is quite pleasant. Loos that are self flushing - by which I mean you have to use a jug of water to flush them yourselves. They are up on stilts with little verandas and hammocks. Tim and I have a huge yellow hibiscus bush edging the veranda enjoying full and happy bloom.
There is no electricity except for a couple of hours at night. No music or radio
Bringing back the 70's
and the sweep of beach at Eden or TV. No bingo or karaoke or jolly people being hale and jollifying at you... No entertainment is provided at all. This is not a place for people who are keen on modern amenities or expect high comfort. It is hot and humid and not a fan in sight.
You want to cool down - you can sink into the warm, salty, soapy Andaman Sea.
For entertainment you can peer at the Burmese islands in the distance and speculate as to the nationality of the junk boats sailing by. Oh and at times watch the Thai navy rush out along the beach and leap into boats and disappear towards the junk boats.
Another fascinating piece of entertainment is to watch the girl from another resort practising Tai Chi in the sea and winding down from it by walking hip high through the sea palm upwards and chanting.
“I
sure would like to know where she gets her weed from,” drawled the Canadian who was staying at the same resort as us.
The smell of breakfast cooking mingles with a scent of marijuana. Just about the whole of the day mingles with the scent of marijuana.
Pretty much everyone staying at Eden is totally relaxed and happily stoned from dawn to way past dusk. Not my poison so I don’t play. I have other sins.
The island is lovely. No proper buildings just wooden huts and shacks. Jungle behind us, golden beach and clear green sea in front of us. People say it is like the Phuket of the 70’s. Enjoy it while it lasts. But 5 days of enjoyment was enough and we were ready to move on.
I fall up the boat as I leave.
“Bai calfur!”
Back to Bangkok and running out of time now Tim and I have decided that we won’t be staying as long as planned in South East Asia - we want to move on. We are about half way through our trip and we feel that we need to see places other than Asia. We stay in a different hostel on our return - again it has a pool - set on the top floor with amazing views across Bangkok. We decide to go the River Kwai and take a train journey along the Death Railway.
It is impossible to aptly describe
my emotions as I walked along row upon row of headstones. British soldiers who had died while prisoners of war building 415 miles of railway joining the railway lines of Burma with the lines of Thailand. Unable to talk, tears spilling I read the headstones - so young, just boys, dying in torment. About 16000 Prisoners of War died in the building of those lines - British, Australian, Canadian and American. They suffered heat, humidity, malaria and cruelty unimaginable under their Japanese guards. I am overwhelmed by the heaviness of sorrow at that place and by the dignity withwhich the Thai people maintain those cemetries - when over 150,000 of their own died too.
I think of other wars and another war and other boys lost. I remember friends and fathers and brothers of friends. At that moment it is all one for me. I weep quietly. Tim and I hold each others hands.
More about the Thai language “The Thai language,” an American from Iowa peers earnestly at me “Is not an easy language to learn.”
You’re kidding me!
“Thai has 44 consonants”
Seriously, now he must have been kidding me. All
I seem to hear is vowels.
“And 5 vowels.”
Bloody hell.
Poor homesick American boy has found someone who speaks Ongri and he is determined to chat. He lives in a rural area of Thailand, teaching English to classes of 50 pupils each and is learning Thai. He is almost holding my hand so happy is he to chat away - I don’t even think Tim’s laconic presence is much of a deterrent.
“So on your travels, do you think you might go to America?”
I waggle my head
“Could you say Hi to my Ma for me?” Ok he didn’t say that bit, but I felt it was on the tip of his tongue. He looked lonely and sad.
“Why don’t you go home?” I ask him after a slight pause.
“Yeah, I kinda wanna, but...” he glances at the very pretty young Thai girl next to him.
“I see.” I smile at him. Poor boy - well that's a conundrum you'll just have to figure out for yourself.
Everyone I have spoken to about Thailand love it. It is a gentle nation, smiling and polite. It does not
shock or distress. It is very easy indeed to love.
If only I understood what was being said to me...
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Book my copy!
Brilliant! Send me an email when you publish your first novel - I'll be first in line for a copy :o) Bai Calfur