DATE: October 2003
LOCATION: Thailand
We flew from Cambodia to Bangkok. The goal was two-fold. Shopping and relaxation.
We had some decisions to make when it came to some time on the beach in
Thailand. Did we want easy street, heading to the tourist havens of Phuket or Ko Samui? Heck no, not us! We decided on the Island of Samet, accessible only by a 4-hour stint on some public transport, followed by a 35-minute boat ride to the Island. We had reservations at Jep’s beach bungalows, which sounded quaint, and had a restaurant attached.
We got on the city bus from the airport in Bangkok, and took it to the Eastern terminal where we were to catch our bus to the port. The traffic in this city is the worst I have ever seen, and that is after living in LA! We got tickets on the 1600 bus, and then sat down to eat. Bangkok has a million restaurants, but most are just 6 or 7 plastic tables on the sidewalk. Tourists may eat in the A/C places in malls, but ordinary Thais eat on the sidewalk. After watching a woman with a cleaver pound on whole chicken, I had noodle soup with chicken, and Paul had chicken and rice. We had 3 bottles of water and a Pepsi. The food was amazing; although I didn’t know what part of the chicken a few of the pieces came from. I just ate around them. Besides, the flavor was superb, and you can’t really complain about a meal that sets you back a whopping $2. We got on the bus and headed southeast. We arrived at the port around 8pm, and headed to the boat terminal (loosely defined). It was late, and the only other people needing passage were 2 Irish guys and 2 Australian women. There wasn’t a boat scheduled, and the man told us we could leave as soon as we had 20 passengers. Yikes! Five minutes later, he said we could go for $50. All of us being cheap, we said we’d wait. Five minutes after that he said we could go for $25. Eureka, split that 6 ways and you’re laughing! We then had to wait while he woke up a boat driver.
We arrived on the Island, and took a “taxi” which was actually a Toyota pickup with 2 benches in the bed—I guess they’re not just for juntas anymore. We arrived at the Bungalows, and I was immediately unhappy. The staff was rude and demanding, the other “guests” were sitting, half comatose, in front of the tube watching “About a Boy” at top volume. Down the street disco music was blaring. The room was clean, but the toilet was fueled by gravity and the bucket of water that you had to pour down it. The view from the room was of the community restroom (for people only wanting to pay $7/night instead of the $12 we forked over). They demanded 3 nights payment up front. I instructed Paul to pay for ONLY one night. This was not the 3 days on the beach I had in mind. The romance of backpacking is quickly overcome by the reality of it. The only redeeming feature of the night was the lively political debate we had with the Irish blokes, one a lawyer, the other a PR exec. Actually, it was less of a debate more agreeing on how bad the US is screwing everything up right now, particularly its image around the world. This situation (the hotel not the politics) was not going to cut it. By 9:15 am, I was sitting poolside, under an umbrella with a Mai Tai looking out over a pristine secluded stretch of white sand. Our "Let's Go" mentioned this part of the island only as “the side for people with fat wallets.” The room had turn-down service and an outdoor shower, not to mention the pool guy who moved my umbrella every hour with the shifting of the sun. Frugality be damned, we went to college so we’d be able to afford this stuff…I mean…in addition to learning lots and bettering ourselves.
The next couple of days flew by in a whirlwind of sleeping, eating, drinking, swimming, and sleeping more.
Bangkok
We started our journey back to Bangkok early the 4th day. We were back by 4. Our hotel in Bangkok was the highlight of our stay. We didn’t find it in “Lets Go”. Surprise. Our room wasn’t nice, but it doesn’t matter very much in cities, because you’re not ever in your room anyway. In a large sign over the front door it said, “Sex Tourist are NOT Welcome Here”. Inside was art deco, jazz music playing, a couple of cats lounging, tons of books to borrow, writing desks, and helpful staff. The place was designed for academics who needed to study or do research while living off grants. It caught on with the portion of the backpacking crowd not interested in sex and drugs. It makes only enough money to cover operating costs, which means it’s $15/night! The restaurant makes amazing traditional food for almost street prices, and we ate most meals there. None of the many illegal things you can do in Thailand are allowed in the hotel, and guests are encouraged to turn in fellow travelers, which seemed slightly Ashcroftesque, but it was done in a way that didn’t offend. The sign informing you of the rules is hilarious. A couple of the best lines: “While our lovely staff may seem ineffectual, and completely incapable of enforcing anything, the management is not.” “If caught breaking above rules, you will be turned into the Thai authorities, the authorities of the State where you reside, a story written and mailed to your local newspaper, and this hotel will press charges both in Thailand and in any applicable international court possible”. It also informs you that at the prices you’re paying, complaints are not accepted. Constructive comments are encouraged, and paper, pens, and drop boxes are everywhere. The hotel also runs a free cultural show every Saturday for guests only.
Bangkok is something else. The contrasts couldn’t be starker. Skyscrapers next to shanties. Enormous gilded temples on the banks of a putrid river. Hundreds of Mercedes and hundreds of open-air tuk-tuks. The people are wonderful, gracious, friendly, but you also have to watch yourself. The tourist scams are the worst I’ve seen, and the vendors pushier than anywhere else I’ve been. Paul and I only “got had” for less than a dollar, and a couple hours of our time, and we actually let it happen, well, sort of. We set out early to see the Emerald Buddha. We took the river taxi, and once out, we sat to orient ourselves. A nice man approached us asked us where we were from, and told us it was Buddha Day, and the temple was closed to non-Buddhists until noon. This was one of the scams we’d read about, but it was a festival, the posters were up everywhere, so we rolled with it. He then suggested that we take a tuk-tuk on a route that would take us to 3 other temples (why they weren’t also closed, we didn’t think to ask). He took our map, marked a route, then flagged down a tuk-tuk and even negotiated a price ($1) for the 2-hour tour.
We set off. The temples were beautiful, and a nice person at each place gave a recommendation to buy rubies and tailor made suits (they all happened to recommend the same stores—coincidence? We thought not.) We’d been warned that tuk-tuk drivers are notorious for ushering tourists into certain shops where they get a commission. We made a tactical error, because after the second temple, we asked to go to a jewelry shop. It was expensive, and the sales people pushy. They got downright rude when it was clear we weren’t going to buy. That opened up the door for our driver. Next, he took us to another store. We said no, but he said he had to get gas, so we might as well while we waited. There were Indians working in the store, and the goods were Indian. I said very nicely I wasn’t going to buy Indian goods in Thailand, I wanted Thai goods. He got mad and rude. We left, and our driver obviously lied about the gas because he was sitting there drinking tea. Next another temple. When we returned from that temple, the driver had the radiator exposed, and said it over heated, and we should to go to a store with his friend while we waited. Fat chance. We just started walking. 5 minutes later, his engine fixed, he picked us up to finish our “tour”. He dropped us at the Emerald Buddha temple at 1130, where people were busy coming in and out. We’d been had. Oh well, we saw some nice temples, and got a good story to tell. Worth the buck, really.
The Emerald Buddha was another greatly anticipated moment of the trip. The Buddha itself was actually small, and you couldn’t see it very well. The guy with the vacuum cleaner up front didn’t help my disappointment. As small as the Buddha was, the temple complex where it resides is magnificent, and more than made up for everything. There were tons of monks in orange robes, people laying flowers and burning incense, and incredible artwork. What a wonderful place!
We began walking, no destination in mind, and didn’t stop for 3 hours. We found the flower market, which was 7 blocks by 2 blocks of nothing but fresh flowers, the fish market, Chinatown, and a residential area. When we literally couldn’t walk anymore, we tried to get a taxi to take us back to the other side of town. We flagged down three cabs, and all three said they were too busy to take us. I immediately assumed that G.W. had said something horrible in his visit the previous week during APEC, and they didn’t want American money. It was actually because the other side of town was a trip that would have taken them 45 minutes each way, and the $2 they would have earned would barely pay for the gas. We finally found a tuk-tuk willing to take us to the skytrain, which we could take to the hotel. Speaking of G.W., all the folks we met seemed pretty pleased he came to Bangkok. It was the first thing everyone said to us upon learning where we were from. I thought it was funny (peculiar, not ha-ha) considering how much I’d read about Thais not wanting him to come, and the planned protests against him. The best thing was a T-shirt, which confirmed my confusion wasn’t without merit. It read, “I STILL hate George Bush”. Paul had to stop me from getting a picture taken with the guy.
Apart from a little sightseeing, Bangkok is all about shopping. There are 10 major markets, two of them night markets (in the red-light districts). We’d done some shopping, but on our last night, it was time to get down to business. We took a dip in the hotel pool, which, like the rest of place, must have been really nice at one time. I was stoked that at $15/night we had a pool at all! We ate quickly, nursed our sore feet, and headed out for battle. The red light district was something. The girls stand outside the clubs, beckoning you to come drink. They were even giving me fliers. “Your wife come too” they said. Not bloody likely. Guys with lists of X-rated videos they’re showing also bug you. I won’t repeat any of the titles. The market in the midst of the clubs is extensive. It was also the funniest bartering I’ve ever engaged in. They start ridiculously high—like $55 for a soccer jersey, and you can get them down to like $8, which is what they should cost. We are lucky we’d done some shopping in less popular markets and had a baseline for prices, otherwise we’d have gotten RIPPED OFF. It’s all done tongue-in cheek, and they have these big calculators. They type in their offer, then you type in your offer, and it goes back and forth. We spent some good money. Paul really got into the tongue and cheek part. For some reason, which I actually have yet to ask, he had a flashlight with him. He’d take it out and “inspect” the fabric or construction of articles. This threw the vendors for a loop, which probably doesn’t happen very often.
The toilets were amusing—or lack of them. Here in Korea, you just squat. In Thailand, they actually have a little built up porcelain pedestal about 6-8 inches high that you step up on, then squat. On a couple of the western toilets, there were footprints on the seats. Apparently people not used to western toilets thought that it was just a really high pedestal. I don’t how they didn’t fall in. Finally, in one bathroom, I actually saw a sign telling people not to stand, but sit on the toilet. It was in Thai and English. I don’t think translating the sign into English was necessary, but I sure found it funny. I have a question I hope somebody can answer. When you squat, do you face the door or the wall? I can’t figure it out. It’s awkward to have to turn around to get your feet in the marked feet spots, but if you don’t turn around, getting at the TP is hard. Any help??
The weather everywhere was stifling, and we went through clothes like crazy. When we got home I thought the best thing to do was burn our packs. We got everything washed, and things are pretty close to normal again. That was the longest stint I’ve had off since summer breaks stopped, and it felt good. It felt better when I got back to work, and there weren’t any nasty surprises for me. Nobody got in trouble, and everything got done on time. I guess they don’t need me…can I come home now? We’re looking at a week in China in March, and we went to the library last night to check out some books—but we left the Let’s Go book on the shelf.
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