All fed and Wat-ted

Well, faithful readers, this is the very last day. Catching the plane to Doha this afternoon and thence to the cold, dank, damp British Isles. Oh dear. Oh dear. I wonder how we’ll survive the transition (and the running theme in Frank’s poetry doesn’t fill us with great expectations, either).

Yesterday, we bit the bullet and went on one last cultural tour to Ayuttahya, having booked it up the previous day at my favourite tranny travel agents. It meant getting up at half past five in the morning (and it was my idea; what was I thinking!) but Linda, Carolyn and I were the only three on the tour. First stop was a visit to the Bang Pa-in palace (web link to a bit of detail), a summer retreat for royalty. If you are in to photographing sumptuous architecture this place will keep you amused on a cool, bright winter’s morning. In fact, here’s an example.

Second stop was to Wat Yai Chai Mongkhon, home to one of the largest chedis in the area built 400 years ago to celebrate the king’s victory over the Burmese. Some of the brickwork of the smaller, surrounding chedis are falling in amongst themselves due to the weight of years and underground water tables so the overall impression is one of great age. Finally, we went to one of the preserved ruins of Wat Phra Si Sanphet and the (apparently) famous three chedis that contain the remains of a king and his sons from the 15th century. This is the sort of thing that Steve would appreciate, mooching about in collapsing ruins in the heat of the day and wondering about the futility of existence and civilisation. On the way back we were diverted to the obligatory nationalised crafts factory, in this case a very plush gem and jewellery showroom. We were dutifully shepherded amongst a billion bucks of rocks but our hostess (and her armed guard) decided she was wasting her time as we were obviously more interested in the tropical fish in their display tanks (yes, it was that plush a show room).

It was a long day so we showered and mooched off for happy hour at the Robin Hood. Carolyn decided that we would enjoy a last Thai meal at the Cabbages and Condoms restaurant – so called because of the King’s desire to see the Thai opium crops replaced with cabbage crops and the need for everyone to wear condoms to stop the spread of HIV. In fact, the entrance to the (rather posh) restaurant contained mannequins and Father Christmases all dressed in clothing made from dyed condoms, and what Linda though was an after dinner mint was actually, yes, you’ve guessed it, a condom. Very strange but, hey, this is Bangkok!!

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And now I get an hour by the pool before we fight with the local taxis to get us and our baggage to the airport. Many thanks to the Faithful who kept with us on our travels. We hope you’ve enjoyed the virtual tour and we really appreciated all the comments. In fact, if it wasn’t for all the feedback, we probably wouldn’t keep this up for the sole purpose of writing a diary. A late Happy New (Western, Thai or Chinese) Year to you all!

Reptile Day

Well, just five days left in Bangkok before the whole adventure is over. These last segments of the adventure dance less to the frenetic beat of the CavTours experience and have more of a wind down feel. In fact, the last days are unplanned, dithering as we are between jumping on a coach and going somewhere or sitting in the cool winter Thai sun by the swimming pool (knowing that this is the last we’ll see of the big yellow thing for a few months). So we will not feel too disappointed about missed opportunities, we’ve tried to do both.

Monday was a Reptile Day. In the morning we jumped on the skytrain to Bangkok’s snake farm. A bit disappointing as, when we were here 10 years ago, they’d tip an 8 foot king cobra out of a sack in front of a class of brightly kitted-out children and keep it occupied with a waving foot. This morning all the venom milking was done by four people behind wall to wall safety glass in an auditorium. In fairness we got the wrong part of the day for the snake show so maybe it was a bit more active in the afternoon. To give an idea of what we probably missed, click here. (I hope this works as doing the hyperlinks this way is less messy than copy and pasting the whole, long-winded URL into the blog. Either right click to open in a new window or press the Back button when finished. I think.)

Anyway, from there back to the skytrain and as far as it would go. The idea was to go down to Samut Prakarn province and visit the crocodile farm but my Thai isn’t so hot (no, really!) and the average taxi driver can’t really be arsed to decipher most idiot ferangs. Luckily, the lad had a sense of humour and my wildly scissoring arm movements and vocal imitations of large dinosaur-like creatures did the trick so 20 klicks and 3 quid later we were at the zoo. As expected, there were lots of crocs as there were local boys willing to put their hands and heads into open mouths for a few thrown Baht (I confess that, while videoing said exercise, the camera jumped when the bloody thing closed its jaws with a Whoomph, narrowly missing his appendage). The whole place turned out to be a sizeable zoo with some large and healthy tigers, leopards and lions; at my age I’m not as keen on zoos as I once was having seen too much maltreatment but the coats on all the animals looked healthy and there were plenty of young about. I did, however, draw the line at watching the elephant show with the elephants all dressed up and walking on two legs; I like elephants as real people, not Disney characters.

Yesterday, we split forces with Linda and Carolyn shopping and visiting famous houses and me sitting by the pool to finish up a rather long sci-fi book I had been working my way through. OK, I did get off my sorry ass about three in the afternoon and took the camera bag for a walk but it wasn’t entirely successful: the light was from the wrong direction on the Wat I had targeted (should have gone in the morning); the Wat itself (Wat Benjamabophit – the marble temple - looks nice here doesn't it?) was covered in scaffolding and green gauze; I couldn’t find my way into Dusit Park (which was Plan B on the itinerary) except through the zoo entrance (and I was all zooed out); and I’d run out of change so had to walk about 3 klicks to the nearest skytrain line. Still, when I got back to Sukumvhit it was happy hour in the Robin Hood so all was not lost. In the evening we all congratulated ourselves on our respective adventures at the local Italian Restaurant.

Lockdown!

Some of you may have noticed Mike’s warning in the last lot of comments about coming back to Bangkok. He was quite right. After another six hour trip back to BKK from Koh Chang on Saturday afternoon we were greeted with a “dry State”. Yes, the Powers That Be shut the city down (or at least the important bits). It seems that the Governor they elected a scant few months ago has been deemed corrupt and sacked (big surprise there!) so they are holding another election on Sunday. But, it a completely pointless display of power, the PTB have deemed there will be no alcohol sold on the streets of Bangkok from 1800 hours Saturday to midnight Sunday. As this really only affects the tourist industry, the hotels, the bars and the restaurants, and therefore the very people who will not be voting anyway, the whole exercise is a mystery to said indigenous farangs. Mike and I made our way up to an Irish bar to get a couple in before six o’clock (at enormous expense) and yes, all the clubs and pubs had indeed shut down in the Sois we passed. The police weren’t even accepting bribes it would appear. Not to be out done, we tramped the back alleys to see what was going on out of plain sight. The first place was almost unintentionally hysterical. A mama-san ushered us into a tiny establishment populated by a handful of elderly ex-pats who looked extremely confused about the whole affair and shut and bolted the door behind us. We had to drink draught Chang out of coffee mugs to complete the charade. Then, in a scene out of the old Prohibition, she checked a spy hole through a side wall before we left and bundled us out into the darkened street with the same alacrity we were bundled in. Our second place was more elaborate. It was an American street so they were more organised. Several “spotters” were patrolling adjacent buildings and when we asked where we could get a decent “cup of coffee” we were led to some stairs by the next building to an upstairs bar where there was business as usual – although all the drinks came in coffee cups to maintain the illusion. Oft times I have known that I am not in Kansas anymore, Toto, but this time I felt like I was playing a part in a Star Trek holodeck. Anyway, honour was served. Drink was found. And Mike and I returned to the nest for tea.

The next day (Sunday, the real day of voting) Mike had to leave the country again and the lockdown was still in force. Linda and I went out for a meal and, sure enough, all the tourist pubs were either shut or people were in them drinking glasses of water. We found a Mexican restaurant in the back streets (not too far where I’d been the previous night, coincidentally), sat ourselves in the furthest corner away from the doors and managed to get a jug of Chang. Yes! 2:0 to the intrepid farangs! And the food was bloody good too!

Gosh, I'm impressed!

Sea ice off the Poole coast. Temeratures of -4 to -6 degrees C during the day. Steve meeting DEATH (and not drinking for a week). A communique from the Anonymous Farrant. New guest commentators (good to hear from you, Nadine, Nicola and Jean). Plus the usual witicisms from the old faithfuls, Margaret, Ginge, Andy and Totton's own Poet Laureate, Frank. (Have I missed anyone? If so, sorry!). The reporting from home is getting more interesting than my poor attempts at travel journalism. Thanks for all the participation; we log in daily just to catch up. It still doesn't make me wish I was back there with you, though . . .

Not much more to report as this is very definitely a sedentary phase to our adventures. We did try and branch out further than the pool and the local beach bar with a boat trip to the neighbouring islands. Koh Chang itself is best described as a mountain jungle, a description more apparent when you look at it from the outside (like, on a boat) and watch a troop of howler monkeys break cover from the palm trees to mooch food from the passing tourists. I gather there's a lot of elephants lurking further up the mountain as well (and various ornithological-like creatures, but you know I'm not equipped to describe them without getting a bollocking from Andy). And on Tuesday I saw my first snake. Well part of one. I was just passing a waist high bush next to the beach beds when I saw something fall out of it. By the time I swilled an eyeball, its tail disappeared behind the bush. As I walked back round to get a better look, the bush jumped about a bit (as bushes are most definitely not wont to do!) and I just got got a glimpse of a green snake's tail disappearing into the top of the adjacent bush -- which means it must have bloody jumped up there! Why do I make such a big thing of such non-sighting? Because it was fast! Scarily fast! Forget all the soporific serpents in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The real thing really moves! Good job it was more afraid of me than I was of it. (Memo To Self: must visit the snake farm when I'm back in Bangkok.)

Anyway, the boat trip was a gentle affair. We made our way down to some of the larger islands south of Koh Chang such as Koh Wai and Koh Mak; all very jungly as well with pristine sandy beaches you could visit from the little motor boat if you wanted. There was snorkeling off Koh Rang at some of the last preserved coral reefs if you fancied (we stayed on the sun deck -- sedentary, remember?). And barbecue on the way back while the sun set and cast orange light on all the little private islands and their estates (now going for anything between half a billion to 4 billion Baht, according to our guide) (100 Baht = around 2 quid). Further in the distance we could make out the shadowy silhouette of the Cambodian mountains (although I think the coastline is still Thailand from where we were). Totally drained by watching everyone else's activity for 8 hours we went to bed at seven, exhausted.

Yesterday, we took a taxi to Baan (Baan = "village") Bang Bao; a fishing village on stilts, we were told by CavTours. Not what we expected: the "village" seemed to be an extension of a very long concrete pier with a lighthouse at the end. What seems to have happened (and I'm not sure if this is the case) is that a sort of floating town has grown fractally from each of the sides, originally with the same concrete pillars but then with wooden ones the further out you go. The whole affect is like an unplanned town where all the tourist shops and dive centres have accumulated in the "main street" (where all the visitors have to go) while new restaurants and sea bungalows complete with thatched roofs grow laterally outwards accessed along rickety wooden footpaths. Either way, sitting on said restaurant drinking white wine and eating scallops in garlic while the sun sets over the fishing boats is indescribably soothing.

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Today is our last day of indolence as we go back to Bangkok tomorrow. Pity, I was even getting used to the towel abusers and their kids . . . Tonight I think its a last piss up in Baan Kai Bai (which I now know is the name of our local, next-door village). I'm even getting used to rap music. Golly! I'll be so chilled you won't recognise me . . .

Ko Chang

Well, we have left the paternal embrace of CavTours and made our own way down south to Ko Chang island, the second largest island in Thailand after Phuket, I am given to understand. Carolyn booked our accommodation, the Sea View Resort and Spa, but we had to decide on our means of transport from Bangkok. The cheapest, we thought! That left out flying down from Bangkok to Trat, the nearest town with an airport to the island that also happens to be near the Cambodian border: too expensive! So we mooched up to a travel agent at the end of Soi 39 that seemed to be staffed entirely by ladyboys in various stages of gender transition. They were very nice and helpful though, and booked us transport door to door to our island hotel. There was a small panic when the minibus hadn't turned up after a half hour on the morning of our departure but we finally made our way for a six hour ride to the south west again (after just coming back up the same route from Ko Samet just the day before). The bus was full of other tourists from all sorts of other countries; I sat next to a mad pregnant Danish solo traveller who laughed very loudly at the antics of Adam Sandler in "Don't Mess With the Zohan" on the bus's drop down DVD player (which in itself was a weird experience). Still, we reached the island car ferry OK, and we successfully got installed in our resort cottage with a free upgrade to a "deluxe" apartment. Here's a link to our resort if you are ever thinking of coming this way http://www.seaviewkohchang.com/home/index.php.

It's all quite nice - the resort is west facing so the sunsets are pretty spectacular and the sea goes out for miles without getting past knee depth. The only big complaint is the same as every other beach resort with a swimming pool: despite the signs saying "don't reserve your sun bed" every tosser in Christendom gets up at 6 in the morning to put their towels over them. Yet another episode of Basil Fawltey Goes Apoplectic On Holiday, as you might imagine . . . Still, if the great homo sapiens family resort holiday isn't your style (a bloody great misnomer as their whinging screaming brats in and around the pool are anything but sapient!) then there is a little town full of bars and restaurants just down the hill. And seconds away just around the corner on the beach is a Robinson Crusoe-style beach bar and restaurant, complete with little wooden stairwells that go up to a second floor platform and sitting area. It also houses the most miserable Thai (or he could be Japanese) waiter we've ever come across. He doesn't like kids as well. Mind you, he didn't like us much either. Still, a third of a litre of Chang beer costs just 50 Baht (around a pound) and it's interesting that, amongst all the Thai hieroglyphs on the label, there are the characters "6.5%". Hmm. That's me sorted then, and the Caipirinha Queen has switched to Mai Tais.

Its all very peaceful after our recent travels. Now to get on with those 16 sci-fi books I dragged out here to read . . .

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PS: Sorry to hear you are at death's door, Steve. Does he really speak in capital letters? Anyway, hope you've had a beer before you've read this. And I am devastated to say it is still boiling hot here by the swimming pool. I am leaving England every winter from now on . . .

Aftermath in Ko Samet

Because of the miracles of international travel, I probably got up this morning just as most of you were ratarsed and going to bed. Our introduction to 2009 was as crazy as you might expect, but, basically, more of the same from our previous night's "dry run". As predicted, we prepared ourselves by drinking beer in deck chairs all afternoon, followed by a nice afternoon's kip to completely sober us up before rendezvousing at a bar I'd adopted called the Sunrise Bar. Situated at the end of our little bay I and my companions, The General, Squid Lady, The Witch and, of course, The Caipirihna Queen, draped ourselves over their carpets and cushions on the beach, watching the stars come out, drinking Singha and listening to rock music on the pub speakers (I remember Pearl Jam, Cold Play, Bryan Adams, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, U2 and the like - The General bravely tried to get some Pink Floyd on, but they said that was "too old"). The beach was already packed by 7, boat loads of Thais having shipped themselves over during the day and establishing themselves in tent cities behind the beach front. Therefore, it was quite a coup when CavTours managed to organise a table at one of the best beach seafood restaurants and, amongst the Techno/Rap bass from the next door disco and the fireworks that were going off intermittently throughout the night, we managed to down a variety of prawns, squid, yellow curry, fish, and meat kebabs along with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label and a bottle of Vodka. When we finally reached midnight the sky exploded. It seems that everyone had access to their own personal fireworks factory (this place is a pyromaniac's wet dream) and the sky around us was alive with bangs, whistles and crashes with rainbow flashes reflecting off everything. In the middle of everything, people were still launching their spirit lanterns creating a stately procession of flickering lights up into the prevailing winds like slow motion photon torpedoes in the Star Trek films (The psychotropic properties of those prawns could get to be a real problem over time!).

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Of course, it all had to end and today the beach looks a little worse for wear. Most of the carpets and cushions and signs have been piled up as if someone is going to make a bonfire out of them. I guess the Thais just decided that enough was enough and they were going to join in the fun. Tomorrow it's back to Bangkok for one night before we start our next adventure to Ko Chang, of which more anon.

PS: It's really warm over here. Just thought you'd like to know that . . .

Sawasdee Pee Mai!

Or "Happy New Year" as they say over in your part of the world. Many thanks for all the comments over the last few weeks (and the poem Frank - very good! How's the weather where you are?). Its about midday on New Year's Eve at the mo' (so it's five in the morning at home). Yesterday we made it to Ko Samet, an island south of Bangkok in the Gulf of Thailand, and installed ourselves in a cabin on the beach surrounded by beach bars and restaurants. We had a preliminary New Year's Eve party last night but finished at eleven. Much fun! This place is a sort of cross between the hippy-ness of Key West in Florida with the beach chaos of Ponta Negra in Brazil during the day. In the afternoon, all the bars clean up their part of the beach, lay carpets and cushions and bring in low tables for eating and drinking by the sea. The biggest of them put on some pyro-entertainment with fire jugglers, fiery limbo dancing contests, home-made fireworks and, if you want something gentler, you can buy paper lanterns from beach vendors, set fire to the wick at the base, and watch them take off into the night sky. I'll confess that, after a bottle of cheap Thai brandy that Mike bought, the whole thing was very spiritual, like setting a shard of my soul flying off into space alongside all the other little flickering balls of flame. Or maybe that was the hallucinogens in the giant prawns we had earlier . . . Anyway, it would have been spiritual had it not been for the techno music pounding from the bar next door. Where was Pink Floyd when you needed them?

Anyway, short post this time. We have to prepare for tonight's onslaught (probably by drinking beer on the beach all afternoon!). If you are reading this later in the day, we hope you all have a jolly good time at your respective celebrations. Here's to lotsa fun in 2009!!!

Interlude

I know I’m going to regret this when I return to downtown Totton but I really haven’t got my ass into gear as much as I feel I ought to during my time in Bangkok. Too many lazy hours beside the swimming pool or in bed when I should be out and about exploring. After all, we have 10 days coming up of island-basking so I really, really should do something!

CavTours came to the rescue on Saturday and forced us out of bed before 8 o’clock to visit the Ancient City just outside Bangkok. Difficult to describe, this is a sort of theme park for Thais (although the CavTours personnel violently oppose any attempt to devalue the experience by “Americanising” it) wherein they have tried to recreate or relocate some of the architectural wonders of the land in a single area. It was actually a lot of fun. The CavTours seniors cycled around on hired bikes while James the Driver chauffeured the Lampens around in the Bentley (OK, it was a golf cart really!). I could ramble on and try and describe it but, as usual, the Web does a better job on http://thailandforvisitors.com/central/bangkok/ancientcity/index.html. We had a cheap lunch at the picturesque floating village before a high speed race back to the entrance in our Bentley before our three hour hire time ran out. I had a lot of fun taking pictures of all the brightly coloured buildings with my newly-purchased 8Gb flash card (which, for just £18 in MBK, will take over 4,000 pictures at medium resolution to bore the unwary visitor to chez Lampen – and just wait until I get the virtual darkroom software for the RAW shots, Andy!).

Last night, CavTours thought it would be a great idea for everyone to go on a pub crawl at Soi 11 – so we did! Linda and I had an initial problem or two getting there having nearly been dumped on by one of the street elephants who decided that, right outside a pavement restaurant as we were passing, it would be a good idea to void all his internal bits, and then, finally escaping the stench and pandemonium, finding that our chosen bar, “Cheap Charlies” no longer existed. However, we all finally met up at the Pickled Liver (an English pub with a picture of George Best outside) and mooched off to a German Beerhaus, followed by a Spanish Tapas Bar for dinner. Very European for a change! Mike then decided to take the assembled to a bar on the seedier side of Sukhumvit on Soi 4 where expats played pool, the local barflies tried to seduce the tourists, rock music thundered from overhead speakers, and the occasional elephant’s trunk appeared over the balcony to steal food. Underneath the bar the traffic roared by as usual and there was one interesting street vendor whose barbeque delivered only a single produce – insects. The girls were well impressed by the diversity of species on offer; cockroaches, grubs, crickets and locusts, plus a few other fried specimens that I couldn’t identify. It was at this point that the ladies decided that enough was enough and it was time to go home. Mike and I, stung by Ginge’s last comments implying inadequacy in the drinking department, decided to have a pub crawl, although it was more of a whirlwind bar race. We lasted until three in the morning before we ran out of money (and we had a lot to start with!). Without going into too much detail, the crawl was duly “interesting”, reminiscent of the old song from Chess (remember “One night in Bangkok” by Murray Head in 1984? Great line: “The queens we use would not excite you” . . . must use it when I mix my video back home . . .).

A day of recuperation now and then we travel to Ko Samet, an island south of here for a three day New Years binge. More anon.

Boxing Day in Thailand

Christmas dinner actually turned out weirder than I’d anticipated. We made our way through the Bangkok rush hour at five (it’s just a normal day for them, sensible people) to an outdoor restaurant on one of the main drives and plonked ourselves down on some stone benches. Waiters rushed around with heavy braziers full of flaming coals placing them on our stone table with huge iron callipers (best keep out of their way as there’s no ‘elf ‘n safety executive this far from the EU!). On top of the braziers there are barbeque grills or a domed contraption with a mini-moat around the outside that you fill up with water from a dented tin kettle. The idea is to help yourself to a variety of unidentifiable dead slimy stuff from trays at the centre of the restaurant and cook them on the now-hot sizzling domes without letting them slide into the moat (it doesn’t matter if you do as the moat becomes a nice, but unidentifiable, soup later in the meal). If you are not into dead slimy stuff you can help yourself to some pre-cooked Thai green curry, Korean pork or Japanese sushi. Or, if the mood suits you, you can fish some seafood out of a large tank of water and cook it on the BBQ grill. Linda wasn’t too keen on that when one of the larger prawns decided it wasn’t dead enough and leapt off the grill, twitching and crawling its way across the table towards her. Back on the grill and to Prawn Heaven it went. They had an interesting way of serving beer, too. 3 litres of Singha came on a tall tower which was placed at the side of our table from which PGs (Pretty Girls, according to Mike) refilled our glasses at regular intervals. We managed two of the towers during the four hours we pigged out (set price, you see?) after which Mike and I really pissed everyone else off by deciding we were going down his local for Thursday night happy hour. . . .

I felt fairly good the next day, all things considered. Everyone got up late so I decided on a mooch with my camera bag. First, the skytrain to Ratchathewi station, then a walk down to Klong Sean Saep (klongs are names for the many canals running through Bangkok from the Chao Phraya river). Next came the hairy bit; a water taxi down to Wat Sahhet. Now, remember what I said about the ‘elf ‘n safety executive – or lack of it. Boarding a water taxi is a clumsy affair for an old fart like me: you jump across to the narrow ledge on the outside of the boat, crouch down under the rope and simultaneously step over the plastic sheeting that protects the passengers from the turgid horror that is the klong water (lots of shanty homes on the side of the canal, if you know what I mean!), mind the drums containing god-knows-what, step over the benches until you can park in a spare seat (there weren’t any), and hang on tight. One guy got his wife and daughters in the boat but was still hanging half out of the boat when it took off. As it was, I panicked and got off one stop too early and had to make my way through a clothing market and a series of timber warehouses before I found the wat. To compound my error, I thought it would be a good idea to climb the steps of the Golden Mount (for a full description of this artefact follow this link http://thailandforvisitors.com/central/bangkok/goldmnt.html ) to see the city from a height. To be honest, apart from the occasional wat roof and chedi spire, the cityscape of Bangkok is not inspiring – in fact it’s quite shabby. This is a city best experienced at street level, methinks. Since my feet and knees hadn’t really recovered from our mooch in Chinatown, I hobbled down to the nearest main road to catch a taxi home but one look at the gridlock convinced me to try my hand at the water taxi again. Another hobble back to the wat (groan!) and another mad scramble on the boat, although this time I was getting used to it and got off at the right stop.

After a couple of hours kip I was dragged out to a Boxing Day party at one of Carolyn’s expat friends’ places in the very posh Emporium Suites up at Sukhumvit. It was actually quite pleasant (you know I’m not one for polite company chit chat) as a lot of the English people living here lead very interesting lives. We met some families who are going to be on the same island as us on New Year’s Eve (but more about that anon). I even met someone who was heavily into photography and dragged me into the 21st century by recommending some decent hardware and software. Well, it amused me more than talking about the cricket scores or whatever. As we left Mike suggested we go and have another beer on the way home but since it was around midnight, it probably wasn’t a great idea. Just a few days left before our next adventure. Perhaps we should chill out a bit . . .

Christmas in Thailand

Greetings Earthlings. I understand you have something called “Xmas” – where presumably “X” is an unknown quantity and “Mass” is a dense volume of space. So, all you unknown dense volumes of space out there, be extremely merry. Or, as they say on my planet, “Live long and prosper”.

We’ve landed back in Thailand after a hectic week in Viet Nam and the difference in the two capital cities is quite amazing. Bangkok at once seems more “westernised” than Hanoi and less chaotic. There is, however, now a danger of being more complacent here about motorbikes riding on the pavement and, just to add to the hazards of Bangkok street life, a Christmas tree fell on me as I walked up Soi 39 the other day. Actually, it more like leapt out at me and the owner of said tree had to come out of his shop to pull it off and give it a good talking to. In Bangkok, they have malls and Emporiums (together will a man in full white uniform, complete with cap, at the doors whose sole job, it would appear, is to salute the customers as they arrive). In Hanoi, they seem a long way from that and most of the action is on the street. Here, they have a variety of five star restaurants along with the usual MacDonalds or Burger Kings and the like. In Hanoi we spotted just one KFC, which offspring James insists stands for Kentucky Fried Canine, or, given the preponderance of seafood on offer, could also stand for Kentucky Fried Cephalopod. I had “chicken” many times while I was there but the bones seldom resembled any English poultry carcass I had ever pulled apart before. Indeed, every guide we had gleefully rejoiced in the Viet Nam’s omnivorosity (I know, it’s not a real word) explaining that they loved eating dog meat. After a while the shock value wore off although I still balked at the frog menus.

Linda and I spent Christmas Eve day on a tourist boat on Chao Phraya river stopping off at the vegetable and flower market in Bangkok’s huge Chinatown district. We spent an hour photographing a marvellous Wat (Buddhist temple) by the river before taking a wrong turn and getting lost in a very narrow labyrinthine underground market (it wasn’t really underground but was completely enclosed and very, very crowded). We burst out into daylight five days later, very thirsty and looking for the ferry and skytrain home. Today, Christmas Day, is a quiet affair so far. The sun is pouring through the windows and the others have gone for a swim in the pool before opening the presents under the tree. I can cope with this: no endless, mindless Xmas adverts on TV until you scream; no repeats repeats repeats repeats repeats of the same old Xmas records on the radio until you throw it out the window; and no fighting and scrabbling against the multitudes at the shops and supermarkets buying junk they can’t afford and don’t really want. This afternoon we are having Christmas dinner at an outdoor barbeque where, apparently we drink Singha beer and cook our meat over our own personalised hot stones until we go pop. Sounds like my sort of afternoon.

Hope you all have a similarly pleasant day. Farewell for now.

Junk

To continue with the “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto!” theme, we had another mooch about the streets of Hanoi on our last night before the junk trip. I mention this because we finally “went native”. In previous posts I have tried to describe how the pavements are inaccessible to pedestrians because the Vietnamese effectively live on the streets when they’re not parking their scooters on them, thus making walking on the extremely crowded roads quite hazardous. By “living on the streets” picture families or friends crouched down on little blue plastic foot stools, eating, drinking or just fixing their bikes. Even the street vendors’ customers perch on these little blue stools scooping rice from a bowl or drinking the ubiquitous cheap home brew. Well, so did we! Picture six white farangs sitting around steel table amongst a load of yammering locals ordering home brew from a 7 year old as hoards of rickshaws, scooters and taxis roared past centimetres away. Great fun. You should have seen the look on the boy’s face when Carolyn and Linda decided they wanted vodka and coke. To be fair, he was able to sell us a small bottles of vodka (surprisingly mild) but had to get his elder brother to give him a ride to the shop to get a can of coke . . . He did hang around afterwards to see what the strange English women were going to do with it, though. The beer wasn’t bad either; and it cost around 20p a glass!

Anyway, on with the travels. The next day, bright and early (groan!), we climbed aboard a most uncomfortable minibus for a four hour and 170 kms ride to Halong Bay on the east coast. To be honest, I have travelled in more comfortable Turkish dolmus but the travel through Hanoi rush hour (which lasts for 18 hours a day) was worth it for the excitement. The guide books all say that Halong Bay is the place to visit in Viet Nam and is being actively voted to be one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. It is a huge region, 1500 square klicks, containing around 3,000 limestone monoliths rising from the waters and dotted with vessels of all sizes. Again, there is not enough space to describe it but there is a good web site together with a map here: http://www.halongbay-vietnam.com/halong_bay_overviews.htm

We had booked the Huong Hai Junk cruise at Hanoi airport when we arrived in Viet Nam for three days and two nights. It is listed on the site as a “deluxe junk class” cruise but there is always some apprehension when you turn up for these things, isn’t there? As it turned out, it actually was one of the most comfortable mini cruises I’ve ever been on; multiple course lunches and dinners with proper tablecloths and cutlery, excellent service, comfortable beds and clean en-suite toilets and showers. The food was a high point – mixed fish, meat and vegetable courses Viet Nam-style while weird rock formations glided by outside. Here’s a picture of our boat. We picked our way past floating towns where homes were tethered to each other and their fishing boats and children rowed to school and little boats selling drinks and snacks rowed up beside us while sea hawks circled and dived from their nests on the surrounding cliffs (Yes! Finally got an ornithological reference in, Andy!) and Linda even saw a manta ray breach the water. Kayak tours to explore the many caves were offered to the young and fit (you may assume I declined although I wish I’d had a go on one of the shorter trips). Overall, it wasn’t cheap, especially when the drinks were extra (and pricey) and we were a captive and thirsty audience, but what the heck. We can always resort to eating on the street for a pound when we get back to Bangkok.

Well, four hours back to Hanoi (groan!) and then probably an hour for a quick beer and then another hour and half through rush hour to the airport and then another two hours to Bangkok. We shall all sleep well tonight.

Culture

Had a bit of a cultural 24 hours since our last post. Last night started off fairly typically. Mike found a "locals bar" where they sold cheap draft home brew. We sank a few there to offset the cost of our five star hotel, the Melia Hanoi. Then Mike decided to order "what they're having" (i.e. the locals on the next table) for a light snack. Then we decided that the giant fish in the metal tray on the other table looked interesting as well so we ordered one of them. It came with a lot of green vegetably-looking things and a pile of noodles and tofu, plus a gas burner. It became apparent that we weren't supposed to eat it straight away but let the fish and vegetables cook over the burner until the fish disintegrated and provided a soup in the metal tray. That meant we had to have some more home brew while we waited . . . and you can guess the rest.


Unfortunately, we had booked seats at the local theatre for 9:15 to see the Roi Nuoc or Water Puppet Theatre. Difficult to explain, this one. The orchestra and Vietnamese singers were off to the left and the "stage" was actually a lake. The puppets appeared on the surface of the water or, in the case of fish, snakes and god-turtles, in and out of it). It looked as if they were operated by rods from behind the curtains at the back (indeed they were as we found out at the end -- the operators are also waist-deep in the water). Didn't have a clue what was going on but it looked very colourful.


The next day we were up early for a CavTours special to see the "perfumed pagoda" a name that had little bearing on the actual experience. Our coach took us 70km south on the main Hanoi - Ho Chi Minh road (itself 1,700 kms long and takes 22 hours to do by local bus) and then off into the countryside to a small village. The countryside was everything I expected the Vietnamese scenery to be: flat, wet landscapes tiered into paddy crops with mountains dimly seen through the haze on the horizon. We debarked the bus and had to be rowed to the ancient Buddhist site further up a wide, peaceful river. This in itself was an event. The village has been making these steel canoes and ferrying tourists and pilgrims for decades. The problem is that most of their menfolk had died during the war so the women do all the rowing. There appears to be a lot of internal politics to determine which of the females are allowed to do this each year and the ones that do seem incredibly young and tiny. Oh yes, and the trip to the shrine takes over an hour each way so they have to row three or four fat farangs non stop at a time. The trip was unbelievable: the river wide and calm, surrounded by mountains either side, and the boat itself only a centimetre or two out of the water. It's "pictures speak a thousand words" again so, rather than try and describe it, this picture should cover it. The shrine itself we reached by cable car (the Buddhists are getting organised now) and accessed by a number of deep stone steps into a cave. To be honest, this did not have the impact that the journey itself had, but I guess that's the Way.

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We have to leave the Melia early tomorrow. We are supposed to be living on a junk for the next two nights (a boat, that is, not the Hanoi rubbish tip!). Not sure where I'll find a reliable Internet cafe but you never know . . . Thanks for all the feedback. Cya!

Viet Nam

Hey, look, I'm in Hanoi! What a curious feeling. After three decades of watching American 'Nam films I find myself at the home of the evil empire itself, North Viet Nam (the locals refer to it as "the War of American Resistance"). Of course, the people here are just the same as people all over the world. They want to make some money, first and foremost, and have a good life. We flew into Hanoi yesterday evening, our day flight having been cancelled (all down to the drop in tourism, I suspect). Not what we wanted to do as the city effectively shuts down at midnight under the communist-controlled government, the restaurants all closing around 10. Unfortunately, we arrived at the airport at 9 and, being 30 klicks out, it took us another hair-raising hour to get to the hotel and check in. I say hair raising because, although I moaned about Bangkok traffic, this place is a league unto itself. Think of Hanoi as scooter city. Around 15 - 20 years ago someone put something in the water supply (or took it out) 'cos this place is full of teenagers on motorbikes. And. They. Just.Don't. Care. Really, the automobile has no place on the Hanoi road. These scooters come at you from all angles. Cross the road at your peril and don't think the pavements are safe. In fact, you have to walk on the roads as the kids park their bikes on the pavements and everybody else either repairs their bikes or sells their merchandise on them.

Anyway, due to Mike's incredible perseverance, we did manage to find a bar at 2230 at night called, imaginatively, "Le Pub" (lots of French influence here). Great place, although first impressions as you enter a narrow alley way from the street leave a lot to be desired. We even got some Vietnamese food with our draft Tiger beer (cold noodles in a dipping sauce with hot fish cakes - very good). Check out http://www.lepub.org/ for more details.

Our first night was in a five star hotel not far from the old quarter so, this morning, we mooched around all the streets that were deserted last night. What a difference. Each street seemed to specialise in a single product, so you had shoe street, Father Christmas street (Christmas is bigger here than in Thailand - boo!), electrical street, bag street, etc. The most colourful was the street market proper where there were all sorts of things, alive and recently deceased, on sale to buy and eat. Even a cage full of giant frogs! Indeed, the place where we had lunch had a frog section on the menu - frog with noodles, frog with pineapple or just grilled frog. I settled for just a beer as I had had a big free breakfast this morning . . . After a while, we got used to the continual sound of car and bike horns and even managed to cross the street without panicking (it helps to attain a zen-like trance before starting and having a friendly personal deity to watch over you would also do no harm).

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Not sure how much chance we'll have to report back during the next four days we are touring Viet Nam as the local version of the Internet cafe is a bit different to those I've experienced elsewhere. (I've resorted to the hotel computer which costs around $12 an hour - what a rip off!). Onwards!!

Food 'n shopping

It's not all “What shall we do today?” and default to sitting around the apartment block pool and having sundowners on the balcony. Oh no! CavTours also specialise in dining experiences and urban adventure. Take the evening we arrived back from Kanchanaburi after a harrowing navigation across Bangkok and its motorways and roundabouts. “Let’s go for an Indian!” declares the Tour Guide. Next stop, the top floor of the 26 storey Rembrandt Hotel with live Indian music (“Cats wailing!” said Mike, many times) and panoramic view of nighttime Bangkok skyscrapers. Not to gush, but the food was the best I’ve had in decades; each dish having a distinct flavour and texture making the old home Indian take away dishes all taste the same in comparison. Even the complementary chocolates at the end were mini-Magnums on sticks presented on a steaming bowl of dry ice! The downside was the loss of a few thousand Baht. In contrast, daughter Louise arrived last night and declared the need for some authentic Thai food. We found a street vendor off the main Sukhumvit strip who sold us some food and Singha beer for 100 Baht each (less than £2). The thing is, (I had a red pork and fried rice with egg dish) it was still tasty and there’s just as much to be said sitting on the roadside watching the frenetic night life go by (including one baby elephant!) as sitting in the air conditioned restaurant in the sky.

The next day, in the same sublime/ridiculous/sublime vein, Mike invited us to his works Christmas lunch for his two trusty coworkers (here we are, look!). We took the Skytrain to the Chao Phraya River where we were met by the hotel’s water taxi, a sort of “pagodaboat”, which took us about half a click up the river to the hotel. If I tell you that this hotel is plushplushplush it will give you an idea of how sublime this particular dining experience was. If it doesn’t, have a look at http://www.mandarinoriental.com/bangkok/?s_kwcid=bangkok%20oriental2435446285. The food was the sort of delicate nouveau cuisine you might expect. The service was excellent and not at all “snooty”. And our table had a lovely view of the Chao Phraya River. Interesting to note that the more expensive bottles of wine in the wine list went for around 50,000 Baht upwards (that’s around £1,000) (*cough*). I fear it's back to the street vendors for a couple of days after this.

The girls went home to wrap presents and do other “Christmas stuff” afterwards. I decided to mooch about in some of the labyrinthine markets to see if I could get some cheap computer games. I managed to find my way to the interior of the 4th floor of the Mahboonkrong (MBK) shopping centre through a bewildering number of stalls selling approximately 1 billion mobile phones until I found a small stall selling what seemed to be computer game disks in wallets. Two Thai kids, having successfully clocked me as “a very, very old person” asked me if I was buying a game for someone. “No, it’s for me”, I said. “Waaaarrggghhhh!” said the girl (or something like that!). I looked suitably affronted: “Do you think I am too old then?” I asked belligerently. “No, never too old for games” she said hastily, but, just to make sure, added, “What games do you like?”. I explained I had just finished Mass Effect and before that I attained level 76 as a Tempest of Set priestess on the on-line Age of Conan (unnecessarily, I know, but I felt I had to defend myself). “You must be a very good gamer”, she said placatingly (still referring to my advanced years, I supposed). However, at that point I lost all credibility when I admitted that I didn’t know how to use the “crack” for the two very cheap games she managed to sell me. She stuck some (English) instructions in my bag and I scuttled away considering my revenge.

Kanchanaburi

Phew! Just got back from a serious tour. But first – an addendum to the Bangkok Tales of Traffic Hazards in my last post. Later that day I also nearly got run over by an elephant! I was picking my way down Soi 33 after dark (summoned by Mike for an after-work drinkies at his local, if you must know) and performing the usual head-swivelling (Look ahead. Mind the street vendor. Look down. Step off the kerb. Mind the parked scooters. Mind the gutter. Look back. Mind the traffic behind me. Look up. Eek! Wassat?). You’d have thought that for something that big I would have seen it coming. Anyway, as it lumbered past me within patting distance I must have had my mouth open – like some damnfool tourist – ‘cos the owner held out an empty cup presumably to put money in. Not sure what, exactly, I would have been paying for (adrenalin tax, maybe), I shook my head and made my way across the street for a much needed libation.

Anyway, back to the trip. CavTours took us to Kanchanaburi the next day, Or, as it’s more famously known for, the site of the Bridge Over The River Kwai. As this was more of a cultural/historical tour, bear with me a bit and I’ll try not to make this too dry a blog. The town hosts the Don-Rak War Cemetery, which contains the remains of 6,982 Australian, Dutch and British war prisoners who lost their lives during the construction of the Death Railway, and the museum for the whole sorry Thailand – Burma railroad story. Being a sub-grade D student of history my ignorance was jerked up a notch or five by the end of the day. Without going into detail (history buffs like Mssrs Tompkins & Sharpe will know a lot more about this period of history than I) I did leave the area with two quite conflicting impressions:
1) what an amazing industrial and engineering feat this was – over 400 kms of construction across the harshest terrain without any heavy machinery whatsoever, and
2) the truly appalling treatment of human beings by other human beings – the death of 160,000 POWs and civilian workers working in intolerable conditions is unimaginable. You walk away from these museums wondering how anyone survived at all.

We visited the replica Bridge itself and, the next day, Mike drove us up to Hellfire Pass. This is another memorial further along the railroad as it meets the Thai/Burmese border which is itself the most mountainous part of the line. There is another museum above the steps which lead down to the remains of the railroad itself and the cutting that was manually hewn from the solid rock using nothing more than sledge hammers and chisels. This was built at the worse part of the construction when the Japanese were under pressure to complete the railroad forcing the POWs and civilian labourers to work 18 hours a day. A truly sobering experience.

On a lighter note, we did manage to take a break from the horrors of the past. Lunch on the River Kwai was an enjoyable Thai mixed spicy fish and squid affair with a few Singha beers. We overnighted in a resort further up the river called the Oriental Kwai, a collection of cottages set in woodland and a great place to get away from it all (check out http://www.orientalkwai.com/ if you are curious) Although there was a temptation for further adventure in the nearby town, after the stresses of the day we all settled on copious servings of gin and tonic with tempura snacks on the restaurant balcony overlooking the river. 'Twas enough!

Made it!

Hi. Just a quick post to say we not only made after all the excitement but arrived early. The first half was very good; Linda not only managed to charm the check-in guy to let leg room on the emergency exit seats but got the excess baggage fee waved (we were two kilos over). The second half from Doha was a drag, though. Out of a full plane, a half dozen back seat personal cinemas weren’t working and Linda and I had two of them. So there was a whole plane asleep in front of perfectly operable dead screens and me seething on the back seat, fully awake, with an inoperable one!

24 hours later and a good sleep at chez Cavs and we’re raring to go. The girls have gone to a WI’s annual meeting/Xmas drinkies this lunchtime and Mike is down south on business. I declined the company of 85 expat wives and went for a mooch around Bangkok. The place is still crazy. Busy, busy, busy, with mobile wok food stalls on every street corner selling all sorts of wonderful deep fried (and unknown) stuff, turgid soups and strange fruits; massage parlours down every side street; Japanese karaoke bars (this part of Sukhumvit has a large Jap population, apparently); towering buildings with ornate spirit houses perched on poles outside; and the occasional well crafted park and water feature. The main drag out of Bangkok, Sukhumvit Road, is still a nightmare of traffic with huge concrete columns supporting the passenger Skytrain on every side of the road marching off into the horizon. Thinking I was safe on the pavement (Look down! Look down! There are holes and broken cobbles everywhere) I nearly get run over by 12 Germans on bicycles followed by two motorbikes. It soon becomes apparent to the unwary visitor that motorcyclists, when finally gridlocked on the main streets simply mount the kerb and take to the pavements (cyclists just don’t bother with the roads – I don’t blame them). In fact, the bikes are the biggest nightmare when mooching about. You think you’ve got the hang of the cars (not difficult as they don’t move far for very long) but the motorbikes will come at you every which way, including the wrong way – so don’t trust the one way street signs!.

Time for an afternoon rest at the apartment’s private swimming pool (am I annoying anyone yet?) and I guess when Mike gets back it will be more drinkies and Thai food somewhere. We’re on the road tomorrow – I’ll let you know where we end up.

PS – Sorry some of the comments didn’t show immediately. I had the default set to “moderate comments before posting” so that meant I had to read them first. I’ve changed it so all comments should publish straight away. Keep ‘em coming.

Bangkok airport (2)

Yes, we’re going. No, we’re not. Yes, we’re going. No, we’re not. YES, WE’RE GOING! Apparently. Since the last post the happy protesters have abandoned the airport and the airport authorities have been trying to get the place working again. Now, bearing in mind that this was a major sit-in (read: riot, protest, or whatever other journalistic spin you want to put on it), it is amazing that the airport is up and running so quickly. In other words, they didn't trash the place! (C'mon. Name me any other country in the world where that could be said!) Our airline, Qatar Airways, have been posting updates on their rather excellent web site finally saying yesterday that it will be business as usual tomorrow (Saturday). So, at the time of writing (Friday) we plan to leave Gatwick around 9 in the morning Tuesday (which means getting up at 4 in the morning – groan!) to arrive in Doha at 7 in the evening (their time) leaving 2 hours later for Bangkok. We arrive in Bangkok around 7 in the morning Wednesday their time, the whole trip taking around 15 hours. Phew! From then we’re supposed to be doing lots of stuff but at the moment its one thing at a time, methinks. Ah well, back to the packing . . .

Bangkok airport

Looking back over my first post I see now I was both optimistic and a bit cavalier about the whole Bangkok airport thing. It is now only a week today before we fly out and, having seen the film on the weekend news I’ve gone from cheerfully optimistic to quite the opposite. I think the sight of thousands yellow-daubed men, women and children camping out in the airport foyer (yellow being the pro-monarchy’s colour) brought it home that this was serious. Indeed, the Thai protesters are calling it “the final battle” to get the Government sacked and one chap interviewed said “this is better than having a civil war”. Since the same protestors have been camping out in the government buildings for three months, forcing the Government to re-convene in Chiang Mai, it is fairly clear that the Thais are not the sort of people to give up easily. Don’t think “protestor” or even “rioter”. It’s more like civil disobedience a la Mahatma Ghandi. Or it would be if the pro-government supporters hadn’t started lobbing grenades at the protesters . . .

Okay, so at the time of writing the Thai courts have acted with, as the Press say, with “uncharacteristic haste” in ruling that the PM must step down over election fraud and, even more surprising, that the PM has accepted the ruling after categorically stating a couple of days ago that he would not step down. Also encouraging was the news that cargo flights would resume today. However, the anti-government protesters believe that the disbanded parties may well re-form under another name and another coalition so, “what’s changed?” they say. They do not seem in a great hurry to leave at the moment. And on top of that, airport officials say that, even if the protesters leave today, Bangkok’s airports will take at least a week to open because computer and security systems have been compromised.

So we have the situation where over 100,000 people, mostly tourists, are trying to leave Thailand and two trying to get in. I think its time to devise a Plan B . . .

Another Adventure

Greetings! Here we are again at the start of another journey, this time under the guiding hands of our friends in Thailand, Mike & Carolyn, corporately known as "CavTours". In just two weeks time we fly to Thailand to start a five week vacation, but more of that later.

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Those of you in the know will remember our halcyon adventures in South America in 2003 with the CavTours Organisation. The whole thing, with its frenetic racing around the most amazing sites and experiences that South America had to offer, is permanently filed under the heading of "Never Boring". So, indeed, our continuing Tales of the Unexpected with this holiday already takes a familiar turn with the news this morning that Bangkok Airport has been closed. The Times Online headline states: "Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi international airport was today a scene of abandoned chaos. Check-in counters were closed. Shutters were pulled down. Stranded passengers lay akimbo on the floor, asleep on baggage trays, slumped on check-in counters, leaning bewildered in front of the electronic flights board which showed a list of “cancelled”, “cancelled”, “cancelled”. Outside, the sweeping approach roads to the airport were blocked with coiled razor wire and miles of parked firetrucks and cars. A thousands-strong crowd of anti-government militants thronged the airport forecourt, shouting, clapping and generally expressing their determination to hold the terminal until the Thai government resigns." Or until hell freezes over, presumably . . .

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Hmm - "coiled razor wire". Aha, and so it starts again! No doubt there will much more fun to come as no CavTour holiday is without its memorable moments. Ah, well, as long as I survive with my life, my wife, my camera bag, and my goolies, I consider everything else a bonus. Patience fellow virtual traveller. All will be reported faithfully and without the influence of alcohol or hyperbole (and if you believe that . . .).