Monthly Archives: March 2006

A week in Bangkok by my ickle self

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Time for a whiz-round catchup on the last few days.

I will admit to having some kind of trepedation when Lou headed off and I was effectively “alone” in a big city I don’t really know. Within 2 days, this feeling had gone. Bangkok’s so nice, the people so friendly, the transport network so efficient… once you get used to the crowds everything just washes over you and you just enjoy the place.

I’ve been staying at Big John’s Guesthouse on Thonglor 9, just off Sukhumvit 55. It’s just over 2 quid a night and I guess you get what you pay for… but it’s way better than you’d expect! Bed is a fairly hard mattress in a room with up to 5 other people and there’s only 2 showers and loos per floor. Actually, there are less right now as the rain made a bit of a mess of the water supply last night (it tonked it down). There are effectively 2 showers and 4 loos for the entire building right now.

Eek.

Still, it’s very clean and secure. It’s also conveniently located for loads of shops and only 10 minutes from Tong Lo BTS station.

It’s great sharing with other people as you get to help them out if they’re new, or get a ton of info off them if they’ve been elsewhere. Even after only a couple of weeks here, I’ve been able to give pointers to quite a few new arrivals.

As arranged, we headed for the Bull on Tuesday evening for dinner. And got utterly wasted. It wasn’t a cheap night (well, £15 for dinner and beers per person sounds good at home but it ain’t here!) but it was a very good one. Billy, who runs the bar, is a great laugh and Nacho turned up as well.

We were literally kicked out at 1am when the Bull shut its doors and crashed back at the dorm. Arrangements were made to see V For Vendetta the next day at the Siam Paragon and we went our separate ways in the morning.

Of course, the best laid plans and all that… there was a huge political demonstration (peaceful, I hasten to add) around Siam on Wednesday and the main shopping precincts had been forced to close their doors. As a result, I couldn’t meet them where we’d arranged so I slunk off to the Emporium cinema instead and watched Where The Truth Lies which wasn’t bad at all.

Afterwards, I bought a ticket for Pink Panther at 80Baht (not even a quid 50) and headed over to the Bull’s Head on the offchance… and they arrived while I was there! They’d found a cinema on Siam Square that was open and been to see the originally intended film after all.

I binned the Pink Panther ticket (it’s a Steve Martin film, after all) and we settled down for dinner and a few beers. Again, another cracking night.

Nick left the next morning early doors and had been moved to another dorm. We said our goodbyes and I hope he had a pleasant (14 hour) journey home!

Smart me had noted the times for V at the Emporium for the Thursday so I headed there early on to pick up a ticket before meeting Sanjana for lunch. Only the film wasn’t on. Instead, I got a ticket for Inside Man which was due out on Friday and had replaced it on the billings. A worthy replacement as well – great film, especially for 140Baht.

Lunch was nice and quiet – I won’t make you guess where we had it – and Sanjina paid to get rid of her Baht. I officially and in public owe her lunch if we get to meet up again once I’m home! She was also leaving that day and I saw her off at the sky train as he headed for the airport.

Also, with Nick moving out I managed to get a locker so I stopped off to pick up a padlock and emptied my belongings from Joy and Nacho’s house where they’d been till then. A huge “thank you” to you both or the temporary security! My clothes don’t matter squat but I don’t want my laptop or camera going walkies.

I finally saw V on Friday at the Siam Paragon which was very posh indeedy. The only screen it was on was the expensive one, which I didn’t realise till I got there, so my cheap cinema trip emptied my wallet (I had just enough!). Escorted to a VIP room where I was served (literally) on knees by a waiter. I even got a free 15 minute head, neck and shoulder massage. Which hurt. But in a good way. The film was as good as I’d been told it was – definitely a “go-see”.

Other things I’ve achieved this week include picking up a Vietnamese visa (which I wish I could change the dates on as I now think I’ll be getting there later than intended), and sorting out a 5-day trip to Chiang Mai.

My itinerary is currently as follows:

7:30am Saturday 1st I get the train to Kanchanaburi and the Tiger Temple. I’ll also try to get to the War Cemetery again and put some flowers on Dale’s grandad’s grave. I wish I’ve known on my first visit, but I will do my best for you.

Saturday 8th I return to Bangkok and will spend a couple of nights back in Big John’s (which I need to book). And the Bull’s Head for the Boro game on the Sunday. On April 10th, I fly to Chiang Mai and have sorted a decent hotel (at £11 a night – whoop) as a treat. With any luck, I’ll get on an elephant ride, white water rafting and bamboo rafting. I may also force myself to chill out by the pool!

On the following Saturday, I’m heading back to Bangkok for another couple of nights, aiming to head for Laos on the Tuesday after one last night out in the Bull for the mackem game on Easter Monday.

Right, now I’m going to finish my huge cow pat guy and book those additional nights here.

Kanchanaburi – Tiger Temple

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Breakfast at the hotel was lovely and fresh fruit based. And if you think fruit in the UK is even remotely “fresh”, you’re sorely mistaken. Pineapple, watermelon, papaya… lovely.

The hotel hired us a “taxi” to get to the Tiger Temple. It’s not a short drive – about 40 minutes – and we ended up in benches in the back of a open-backed truck. Cool! The last 1.5km is along dusty dirt tracks and I’ll be walking those laden with two rucksacks next week. No taxis for me then!

The driver waved us to the entrance – it seemed he was waiting for us to go in and come back out – so we signed the little waivers and bought our tickets. Essentially saying that if the tigers (or any other animal) decided to take a nibble, it was our own problem. Well, what can you do? I signed Lou’s name on mine, but don’t tell her.

A guide took us through a serious looking wheeled metal gate and into a compound. It was very “oriental” – all jungle and trees overgrowing aging concrete structures. We passed deer (which didn’t flinch), cows, horses, boar, chickens… all as tame as if they’d been hand-reared which most have.

We’d arrived just in time. The tigers were being led out one at a time for the short alk from their cages to the canyon area. The eldest tiger was lying on the ground sunning himself as each of the others was walked (on a leach) past him. The youngsters (about 6-7 months old) went first, followed by the older ones.

Finally, as he was being walked down by the monk in charge, the head carer set out the rules. Walk up, give your camera to the volunteer, when told walk up behind the tiger and place a hand on his back while the volunteer takes your pictures. Do not touch the monk. Well, I wasn’t there to fondle Buddhists, no matter how nice the guy was. I joined the queue.

Before people could start stroking the oversized moggy, he paused and started sniffing leaves on a tree. He rubbed them with his face and started to walk forward, tail upright.

“He going to spray! Move! Move!” said the monk.

“Whuh?” said most of the tourists.

“That way,” said I to Louise. Who despite me shoving her only narrowly escaped a jet of cat scent. No little spurts or sprays for something the size of a tiger, oh, no. Jet I said, and jet I meant. I’d say a good half pint. And it minged.

As people started to move forward to have their pictures taken, our furry friend decided to regale us with a demonstration of how much tigers can poo as well. For those interested, it’s quite a lot. It’s also yellow and runny, but that could be the cooked chicken and dry catfood diet.

Ablutions overwith, he started to pad off again and Lou had her photos taken. I’m not polite or anything, she just pushed in front of me. Gratitude for you. Then my turn. Wow. You can fel the muscles under the skin as it walks, though the hair’s really coarse – I’d say more like an alsatian than a domestic short-haired moggy.

We were walked down to a canyon area where the other tigers were either stretched out sunning themselves or playing in a pool at the far end. The youngsters were all in the water, well away from the tourists. I’d guess they’re a little less predictable so it makes sense.

Once the tigers had started to snooze, people were taken in a handful at a time to sit with the animals. Hand held by a volunteer, camera held by another, we were walked around and sat with one hand on these beautiful creatures as photos were taken. As time went on, some people went back for more photos (“Please – people! Come again and again and again!” said the smiling monk – I like this guy) and others gave their cameras to other volunteers who took some great shots of the younger tigers from close up.

Gradually, the crowd thinned until there were maybe a dozen people left. One of the volunteers sat cross legged behind the oldest tiger and the monk just hoiked its head up and plonked it in her lap.

Woah.

Then they started letting other people go in.

As ever, Lou managed to wangle her way in ahead of me. I think I was actually the last one to manage it before the tigers started to become too “unsnoozy”. It’s indescribeable. To be sat, cross-legged, unable to escape or defend yourself, while a creature that can tear you apart lies there, literally purring, with its heavy head in your lap. And your stroking it.

Bizarrely, one of the few emotions I didn’t feel – at all, all day – was fear. At no point did I think “what the hell are you doing heading towards them?!” I know they’re animals. I know they can turn. People’s pet dogs do it all the time, but with much less horrendous results than a 20 stone cat is capable of. Yet, somehow, this just didn’t seem to be even the remotest possibility with these beasts.

I had time for a quick word with one of the senior staff to confirm my appearance the following week. I will be allowed two meals a day, not just one, as I’m there to volunteer with the animals, not to meditate. This is a good thing. I was also told to bring snacks, which is preferable to being one. However, I will be sleeping on a very thin mat in the temple so I was told to bring a sleeping bag or similar. Easier said than done as mine’s wrapped up in my parents’ cellar.

Amy, bless her, bought me a sleeping bag “liner” before I left. Essentially a very thin blankie and intended for when the sheets where I’m staying really don’t look like something I’d want to lie on. It wraps up nice and small and I think will come in handy for that week. Thank you, Amy!

With a last gawp, we headed for our waiting “taxi” and headed back to the hotel. We had just enough time for lunch (well, almost – the Thais certainly don’t specialise in “fast” food by any definition) before our driver turned up to take us back to Bangkok. Well, to take me back. Lou was heading from there down to Hua Hin again.

When we got back to Bangkok, a minor problem. Sharon had taken the house/gate keys (“You won’t need them – the maid will be in”) and the maid was out. Nacho called her and she zoomed over by speedy scooter from her dinner to open up for us. Things were tidied up, washing sorted and goodbyes said – I won’t see Lou again until I reach New Zealand in… erm… a few months. Or thereabouts.

I headed for the hostel I’d booked into. Well, kind of. I booked in for April by mistake, but they let me in anyway (phew) and I got talking to two of the people in my dorm: Sanjana from Cambridge and Nick from Hawaii (formerly San Diego).

Nick had just spent a couple of weeks in Cambodia and not made it to Laos and Vietnam as he’d intended. He liked Cambodia too much! Sanjana was just in from Vietnam for a few days before heading home herself. I picked up a fair bit of information about two of my future destinations from these two – thank you both!

Sanjana was heading off for the ruins/boat trip tour we had done a couple of weeks earlier the next day. We all arranged to meet the next evening for dinner at the Bull’s Head and attempted to sleep on mattresses that I feel will set me up well for the temple next week.

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Kanchanaburi – bridges and memorials

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Today was a very long day, but a very worthwhile one. Our original plan was to take the train to Kanchanaburi, but due to time constraints (and being spoiled), Lou insisted on a hired car. Still, it cost less for the 3-hour drive than you’d pay for a train ticket back home. It also meant aircon that wouldn’t have been available on the only trains that go there from Bangkok.

We stayed at the Felix resort right on the bank of the River Kwai, about 200 yards from the famous bridge. A five star resort for £30 a night. Can’t beat it. Our room service and bar tab at the end cost as much as the room! It’s a beautiful resort as well, laid out like a collection of islands with little bridges between them all. It’s not all cheap, though. They advertise a 12-course banquet at 99,999Baht which includes a free stay in their Executive Suite as part of the deal!

We arrived around midday and, after dropping our stuff off, arranged a taxi to the JEATH museum at the far side of the town. This is quite a small museum, and is fashioned as a reconstruction of the “accomodation” given to the allied prisoners of war who built the bridge further upriver. It really is quite a thing to walk around, with many paintings, photos, newspaper clippings and so on detailing the horrific conditions the men were made to put up with. If you’ve seen the famous film, it doesn’t even begin to get across the level of atrocities. It’s also (as usual with most American films depicting “history”) woefully inaccurate.

We decided to walk back to the hotel via the Allied War Cemetery and the Bridge itself. Which turned out to be an eentsy bit further than we thought. Ragardless, the walk was worthwhile. Lunch was at another roadside “café” and once again was Cow Pat Guy. Delicious. And a little puddy tat curled up at my feet as well. The people were really friendly and quite chatty even with their limited English (though less limited than our Thai!)

I also remembered that I needed passport photos for my visa applications so we popped into a little shop that did them. Very “back room”! I was led upstairs where the owner took my photo then ran it through Photoshop to create a contact sheet with 9 pictures on. Top notch – and 100Baht. About 1/10th what you’d pay for the same number of pictures in the UK. In addition, we asked for some help with directions to the cemetery and he photocopied a map for us at no charge!

It was a long way to the Don-Rak Cemetery, which we eventually reached. Definitely worth the plod, though. It is incredibly well looked after and was being watered when we arrived. The grass is the thick, short, tough variety very common over here and absolutely shines in the sun. Each grave – almost 6982 of them – marks one of the allied POWs who died building the bridge. Many were buried elsewhere, but all the bodies were disinterred and reburied at this one site. Next to each headstone is a flowering plant, a different one for each fallen soldier. The overall effect is utterly beautiful. I may take photographs if I visit again next week, but somehow it just didn’t feel “right” to do so.

Every headstone bears a name, a rank, a regiment and a date of death. Most have the dead man’s age. Very, very few are over 25. A small number simply say “Unknown Soldier” and in a way they are the most sad. A man has laid his life down and nobody even knows who he is to recognise the sacrifice he has made.

There is one headstone which bears Lou’s brother’s name – quite scary. She’s asked and nobody in the family is aware of any forebears having been involved, but she doesn’t have a very common surname.

I’ll be utterly honest – I was moved to tears by the whole thing. 6300 lives is hard to comprehend until they’re laid out in front of you. Carved, glinting in the sunlight and stretching out over such a distance it does somehow give the magnitude of the number some meaning.

However. The reckonings are that almost 100,000 conscripted natives (Thai and Burmese) died in similar manners to the allied POWs. One. Hundred. Thousand. Trying to even picture the size of cemetery required to house those in a similar manner to the Don-Rak Cemetery really makes the mind boggle. I know such cemeteries exist elsewhere in the world, but without visiting them it’s just a huge, incomprehensible number.

As we were leaving, two tour buses arrived and discourged a large number of people, varying in age from twenties to OAP. What struck me was that the younger ones walked up and down, looking around and on the whole were rather quiet. Many of the OAPs just stood at the entrance laughing and shouting at each other. Is it a coincidence that they were Japanese? At least it seems that the youth have learned respect – such a shame their elders haven’t got any.

We moved on.

Another long walk eventually got us to the Death Museum (nice name) which we didn’t have time to visit. Lou actually walked right past it – and the huge steam train outside – utterly oblivious while nattering to her dad on her mobile. She also almost got bitten by a timid dog she kept pestering but I’m not allowed to go on about that!

Right by this museum is the Bridge itself. I think the concrete supports have been reinforced over the years, but the arched steel sections are the originals. Brought from Java, put together, bombed into the water and repaired.

It was smaller than I expected. It’s a single train wide and doesn’t leave much of a gap at the sides when the train goes over. It is still in use today, though trains go over it very slowly indeed due to its use as a footbridge when the rails aren’t taken up with a huge lump of wheeled steel. There are little plinths you can move onto when the train approaches, but I’m glad to say we made it to the other side a short while before a train arrived. It took quite some time to crawl over.

One thing that struck me was the number of gaps you could so easily fall down. In the UK these would have netting and fences and people stood there telling you not to trip in case someone sued. Over here – your problem. So if you ever visit, watch your step!

At the other side, we spotted an elephant chained up and munching at some bamboo. The owner approached and we took some food (for 100Baht) to feed him. The poor thing only had one tusk (his right) and one eye (his left) – he lost the others when he was very young. Given that the owner old us he was now 6, he seems to be coping well. He certainly had no problem grabbing cucumbers from our hands and shoving them in his mouth!

Many people complain about the treatment animals suffer in foreign countries for show, but in Thailand they all seem well looked after. Unlike many cases where animals have been declawed or stolen from their parents, all the ones in Thailand have been rescued from poachers, or born to animals which have been raised in this way. They are looked after, but many species can no longer be used to “perform”. This is a huge problem for the people who look after them as they suddenly have no source of income to help pay the huge costs of feeding some of these creatures. Elephants, obviously, aren’t cheap to feed.

As a result, they have to resort to effectively begging and charging passing tourists 100Baht to feed an elephant 10Baht worth of food.

Darkness fell as we walked back to the hotel. Watching the sun set over the River Kwai was quite something. Night falls very quickly in Thailand. Dusk lasts maybe 10 minutes before the place is pitch black.

Just as we got back to the room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye – two lizards hiding around the big lamp over our door. These were similar, but less brightly coloured, than the ones I’d seen in Nigeria. Lovely things and I managed to snap a few pictures as they poked their heads out to munch on evil mosquitoes.

Tomorrow would be the Tiger Temple. Camera batteries were charged and beer had to encourage sleep!

Films, cars and giggles

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Task one this morning was to take that tie back. Now I have no idea of your consumer rights in Thailand and neither does Lou, but we traipsed back and – after much conversation where they were trying to offer her a credit note – we think they agreed to refund her card. Either way, the unopened bag and box with the tie in is back with the shop and they said they’d call the bank on the Monday regarding payment. I guess we’ll find out!

We them headed for the Siam Centre, which is (I think) the largest shopping precinct in Thailand and possibly SE Asia. There are three sections – Siam Centre, Discovery Centre and the newly-opened Siam Paragon. The shops outside form the Siam Square, but I’m not sure if they class as part of the centre or not.

There were two rather nice Lambourghinis on display at the entrance to the Paragon which I got some snaps of. A Murcielago and a Gallardo. Lou managed to restrain me from trying to drive off in one. It was a close thing.

Next stop, Asia Books to pick up a Vietnamese phrase book. Having a flick through, it has a very “handy” section on how to pick people up in bars. This includes such useful phrases as “can I kiss you”, “would you like to come back to my place for a massage” and “easy tiger!”. Good grief.

We them headed for the Gold Class cinema. For 500Baht – about the price of a regular ticket back home – you get soft, plush, reclining seats. And fluffy socks (only ours were missing). And a pillow. And a blanket – which is bizarre. They whack up the aircon then give you a blankie to keep warm. For an extra 100Baht you can get a seat with a back massager as well.

You also have table service and can drink beer while you watch the film. After the trailers and before the film, all cinemas play the national anthem which you have to stand for. This is a little awkward when it starts and you’re reclined backwards and have to fight your way off the seat!

The film we saw was Eight Below, a half-decent Disney yarn about some huskies. The dogs themselves were definitely the stars of the film. Lovely animals. I’d rather have seen V For Vendetta but they only have one film at a time on at the posh screens.

Afterwards, we headed for the Bulls Head for dinner, a drink or two and the 2-monthly comedy club. Don’t ask who the acts were as I’d not heard of them before, but they were all superb. One of the people we went with is co-owner of the pub and he made quite an impression on the compére. Her opening line was “Are you in show business, sir? Then get your ******* stuff off my stage.”

This was followed by several comments about his lack of hair, age and so on. Basically, she ripped him apart. When she came on after the first act, she was somewhat more contrite. “I just found out you’re the owner. I guess I won’t be coming back, then?”

Overall, a cracking night. I was sore from laughing by the end of it. A shame they only do it every 8 weeks or so as I’ll be elsewhere by the time the next one comes round.

Monkey suits this time

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An early start this morning as we headed back to Bangkok, Sharon driving the Camper Van again. There were only meant to be the three of us, but Eddie the wonderdog seems to have figured out how to get out of the beachhouse despite every visible exit being locked. As a result, she ended up coming back with us as well. A little pointless as she only ended up going back down again with Nacho and Joy later in the day!

In Bangkok, the search began for a monkey suit for me as we were heading for a St Patrick’s Day (almost) ball in the evening. Fortunately, I’m a similar size to Nacho, so I was able to borrow a shirt, cufflinks and jacket. I had my own shoes and trousers with me. But we were missing a bow tie.

Louise knows her way around Bangkok, but it was too late to sort out a tailor so we headed for the Emporium shopping centre at the end of the road. Within this, we spent about 20 minutes walking through the main department store with no luck at all. Finally, I spotted a shop which sold suits and so forth.

We popped in and explained what we wanted. Initially, Lou bought a cumerbund/tie combo set then realised this was just shy of £200… so cancelled and just bought the bow tie. For £75. Then we got back to the house and found one anyway. I think we managed to locate the most expensive clothes shop in all of Thailand.

So, that evening all monkey-suited up, I headed for the Marriott hotel and a 3000Baht dinner/dance thing. Anyone who knows me will appreciate that I felt utterly like a fish out of water. I mean, me. In a suit. Going out. Yeesh.

The ball was organised by the Bangkok St Patrick’s Society who’ve been doing this for 50 or so years. They started in the founding members’ homes but had to move to bigger and bigger premises as the society got larger. Sadly, the last founding member died earlier this year. A fair bit of money is made for charity with a slice of the ticket price and donations being collected over the night.

The entertainment was top notch and varied. The openers were a choir from a school run by real Oirish nuns who received a fair bit of the donated money. Then were was a harpist who played some well known tracks. A traditional Irish band of sorts – one farang and two Thais as far as I could tell, but it was irish music. Next was the same Beatles cover band we’d seen the week before – The Betters (which I think is how a Thai pronounces “Beatles”). They were much better this time than the previous week and played for a good 90 minutes.

Finally, there was a DJ who apparently used to be quite big back home, but who now lives in Thailand doing functions like this. The food was superb, but I’m glad I don’t like fish as they ran out… The lady I was sat next to ended up with lamb anyway, and the guy on the other side of Lou was being served by the time everyone else was on dessert. He really wanted fish, so the staff had run down to the seafood grill on one of the lower floors and sorted him out a salmon steak!

I think we left sometime around 3:30am. Given that the wine and Jamesons was included (I think) and the person who invited us refused to accept our money for the tickets, it was surprisingly a cheap night out. Except for that darn bow tie!