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Published: January 25th 2007
The aim of 2007 is to make my way through the countries of Southeast Asia before heading north to take in China, Mongolia, and Japan. The level of planning has hit an all-time low, so this skeletal itinerary is subject to change. For maximum flexibility, I decided to fly into Bangkok on a one-way ticket. This included a 3 hour stopover in Doha, courtesy of Qatar Airways. The journey was distinguished by the presence of an extended family of English people, whose constant shouting, swearing, blocking of the aisle, and (by the end of the flight) drunkenness made it feel like the ASBO equivalent of Con Air.
I'd been to Thailand once before, on the sort of holiday I can't imagine ever taking again. A week had been frittered away at the stupidly expensive Banyan Tree hotel on Phuket, where I dimly remembered seeing a shark on my first ever snorkelling trip as well as visiting an elephant sanctuary, but the rest of the time had been in splendid isolation from any aspect of Thai society or culture.
More positively, this had been followed by 3 days of tramping around Bangkok, visiting temples, inspecting fake Rolexes, and buying a
garish lilac silk shirt dotted with yellow elephants (that inexplicably doesn't get worn much these days). What also had stuck in my mind were the mixed feelings of entering a girlie bar in Patpong with my then girlfriend, and the menus advertising assorted ping pong ball-related tricks performed by ladies probably unfamiliar with the rules of table tennis.
The taxi ride from the airport brought back a few more memories - the smog over the city, the mysterious Thai script, the heat and humidity. But even though this wasn't my first time here, it still felt alien compared to when I'd initially landed in Australia. And with the Thai language having 5 tones, even saying a simple "Hello" could come out as "Banana glue baby" in the hands of a novice.
It's interesting that Bangkok's name has actually been Krung Thep for over 200 years. Originally it was called Bangkok, but that now refers to just a district of the city on the west side of the river.
The main backpacker enclave in Bangkok (and arguably in all of Southeast Asia) is Khao San Road. I'd heard it bracketed together so many times with Paharganj in New
Delhi that I'd formed a strongly negative impression before even seeing the place, however curiosity meant that I stayed in a hotel a couple of hundred yards away so I could experience the magic but also get out at will. Fortunately the similarities between Khao San Road and Paharganj turned out to be superficial. Yes, both are full of foreigners with umpteen hotels/restaurants/cafes aimed at foreigners and umpteen shops offering the sort of goods that penniless backpackers traditionally need, but the squalor, chaos, hassle and sheer tonnage of excrement that you find in Paharganj are lacking from Khao San Road. I've also seen many more middle-aged foreign guys than I would perhaps have expected, some of whom may not even be sex tourists.
Hotel costs are so low here that there is no need for Westerners to stay in dorms unless on the tightest of budgets. I splashed out for my first few nights, paying $19 per night for a double room with aircon, TV, fridge, hot shower, free breakfast, and a visit from the cleaning ladyboy every day. Food is also so cheap that the chances of me ever doing any cooking are strictly zero, rather than the
0.0001 region they were hovering around in Australia.
There's a distinct lack of hassle in Bangkok also. With the minimum wage here being something like $5 per day, I could understand if tourists were seen as cash machines, but the street vendors and tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) drivers will take no for an answer, usually at the first time of asking. They're completely lacking in the tenacity and subterfuge that characterise their Indian brethren, for example. The one major exception I discovered to this were the seed sellers on the main road leading to the Grand Palace. They attempt to sell you a bag of seed to feed the hordes of pigeons milling around, and if you decline they try to force the bag into your hand or somewhere on your person, and then refuse to take it back. Dropping the bag on the ground elicits a torrent of Thai which I'm guessing translates roughly as "You've just dropped my nice clean bag of seed on this filthy pavement, so it's now ruined. You owe me for it". Having read about this scam, I made sure I took steps to avoid it.
All the places I wanted to see on
this visit were in walking distance, so I braved the oppressive climate to take to the streets on foot. Crossing the major roads here is extremely time-consuming, as the lights (if there are any) change once every 5 minutes. People are very willing to help with directions, and in fact one of the impressions I've already formed is that the "Land of Smiles" isn't just a concoction of the Thai Tourist Board.
Unfortunately it appears that I'm just as appealing to Thai mosquitoes as I am to their Indian and Australian relatives. I was advised that Tiger Balm was the best thing to apply to bites to reduce the itching. Typically, I'd bought 9 jars of the stuff when I was in Singapore, most of which were languishing in Saltburn. The balm did actually eliminate the itching but it stinks (of camphor) and doesn't get fully absorbed into the skin so you're liable to leave yellowy orange stains on things you come into contact with, e.g. bed sheets, people sitting next to you on a train, etc.
In terms of buildings, Bangkok has some superb pieces of architecture. Wat Pho is the oldest temple in the capital (17th
century), with its main attraction being an enormous 45m gilded reclining Buddha sculpture. This is one damn big Buddha, the soles of whose feet consist of gorgeous mother-of-pearl inlays. Just over the river from Wat Pho can be found Wat Arun, where the surfaces of its 5 towers are covered with broken porcelain donated by local people. Though this looks simplistic when viewed close-up, it's amazing when seen from even just a few yards away.
However the real masterpiece in Bangkok's midst, the one thing guaranteed to overwhelm one's eyeballs, is the Grand Palace, in particular the Wat Phra Kaeo temple complex within. A more colourful set of buildings it would be hard to find. I saw some palace rooms in India with a similar profusion of bright hues but never on the scale of entire structures. My previous visit here in 2001 had been on a tour organised from Japan, hence there was the entertaining spectacle of a Thai tour guide who spoke Thai and Japanese but no English, an American girl who spoke Japanese and English but no Thai, and an English guy who spoke only English, making their way through the complex, with two separate translations
ongoing. This time, I had my trusty English RG.
On entering Wat Phra Kaeo, you are hit in succession with the gold-covered Phra Siratoni Chedi (enshrining part of the Buddha's breastbone), the glittering green of Phra Mondop (housing Buddhist scriptures), and the blue-walled Prasat Phra Thep Bidorn (containing life-sized statues of the Bangkok-era kings). To one side of these 3 lies the temple of the Emerald Buddha, containing the confusingly-named small jade statue that is the country's most sacred image. The Emerald Buddha stands on a large, ornate golden pedestal, clad in 1 of 3 seasonal outfits that are changed ceremonially by the King at appropriate times of the year.
"Lesser" items in the vicinity are a scale model of Angkor Wat and, my own favourite, a couple of pagodas whose mid-sections are encircled and supported by various devils covered in mirrored tiles.
The rest of the Grand Palace pales somewhat by comparison, though the architecture is still impressive. The main palace building is nicknamed "the foreigner with the Thai hat" because its design incorporates Thai towers on a Neoclassical facade, and from outside you can see the window of the room in which a former king
of Thailand was tutored by an English lady (the basis of the story of "The King and I"). A smaller structure next to it contains an exquisite mother-of-pearl inlaid throne. Note that all the buildings are under 250 years old, though the Emerald Buddha is over 500.
Wandering around the palace had been a hot and sweaty affair, not helped by a dress code enforcing the wearing of trousers, but, at precisely the moment I decided I'd seen enough, i.e. 11:42AM, a monsoon-strength downpour put in an appearance. I was caught under an archway that offered minimal protection if the breeze rose above 0 knots. Two alcoves at either end of the arch were fully covered, but I was unable to stake a claim to standing room in either of them due to the presence of assorted old people, women with babies, whimpering schoolgirls, etc. My clothes were drenched with sweat anyway, so adding some rainwater wasn't going to make much difference. 30 minutes later and the torrent was as strong as ever. The palace drainage system had been overcome and the water was deep enough to be over the toes of my trainers. Some of the tour groups
had schedules to stick to, so they began to make their way to the exit, the lucky few with umbrellas but the majority using makeshift protection such as their palace maps. Many had taken their shoes off because of the ankle-deep water, and the parade of bedraggled visitors splashing their way out reminded me of a joke that did the rounds at the time of Hurricane Katrina (Q. What does George Bush think of Roe vs. Wade? A. He doesn't care how people get out of New Orleans).
All around Bangkok you will see pictures of King Bhumibol. Posters everywhere declare "Long live the King". I thought Lance Armstrong had been spreading his cancer appeal to all corners of the globe due to the number of yellow wristbands people were wearing, but on closer inspection these also said "Long live the King" or "We (heart) the King". A good 20% of people you see on the streets are wearing yellow T-shirts, which I think were from the 60th anniversary celebrations last year of the King's accession to the throne. Quite why the King is so revered in this country was shown a little in an exhibit devoted to him
in the National Museum. It appears he is that rarest of things - a monarch who isn't completely useless. Apart from painting, photography, penning poetry and literature, and composing music (there was an excellent photo of him sitting at a piano on top of which was perched a fat cat), he has sailed to international standard and (the mark of a true athlete) plays badminton. This is when he isn't inventing machines such as a waste water aerator or rainmakers.
Having said that, he has arguably more power than the country's parliament, despite being unelected, is protected by harsh laws prohibiting criticism of him, and much of his income is exempt from taxes (hardly necessary as he is a $ multibillionaire).
The other exhibit I found of interest in the National Museum was the collection of royal funeral chariots, the largest of which were from the imagination of a Far Eastern baroque float designer. It was strange to think that such ornate, impressive vehicles were meant for the dead when the living have to make do with things like a Nissan Micra.
Since my intended path around Southeast Asia is in a clockwise, slightly deformed loop, I
That's gotta hurt
Physiotherapy at Wat Phosuspect I'll be in Bangkok again later in the year, so I didn't attempt to visit all parts of the city. Instead, I hopped on an early morning train and headed west.
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Travellin Man
Michael Owens
Good stuff
Your pictures are great keep up the good work, nicely written too