I've written about Bangkok a number of times before (Jan 04, for example). Having been there literally dozens of times, Bangkok represents a sort of "home away from home". Like any big city (12 million people in this case), it's impossible to really understand the whole place, so I tend to hang out in familiar areas and revisit favorites, then venture out to new venues and "retreat" back to familiar haunts.

Getting there

There must be a better way. Boston. Chicago (or was it San Francisco). Tokyo. Bangkok. End to end it usually takes about 28 hours including about 3 in Tokyo. By Tokyo, I pretty much stink, as I usually end up sweating on the way to the plane, then living in the same close for 20 hours or so. Fortunately, Tokyo's biz class lounge has a shower facility. Its wonderful.

The flight connection that day was an unusually-short hour and a half. Naturally, the connecting flight was late. It ultimately was 5 1/2 hours before leaving Tokyo

To be continued... Bangkok at sunrise, Japanese Translation Breakfast, "Holy Trinity"

Diatribe on A Nice Place to Leave

Conventions, big hotels...used to be my life. When you're "edutaining" Fortune 50 companies (or Internet Companies with big wallets for that matter), size matters. Glitz matters. That's the 5-star hotel circuit, and I admit that I miss it sometimes. The pampering, the elegance, the doting staff. I also miss not having to pay for that service.

Now we experience that sort of attention from "boutique" hotels like the Majestic Suites, where I stayed when I first arrived in Bangkok. It was full for my return, so I'm across the street and down the block at The Ambassador Hotel. They're generally small properties (the Majestic might have 60 rooms) with staff that genuinely welcome you and come to know you, for the time you're with them. The Ambassador has none of the qualities. It isn't attractive. The location isn't great and predicated on the folks that stay here, the side street it is on is inundated with "Taxi Mister? Where you go? Waant masssage?" touts. Signs in Japanese abound; outside Japan this is a good indication that a large number of these herding consumers who will pay whatever asked are ripe for the plucking. Tailors hawk their wares and beckon you to their lairs.

The Ambassador caters to bulk tourism and budget convention trade. It has hundreds of rooms in multiple buildings. Construction on an adjacent tour, 50' from my balcony, goes on from about 7:30am until 11:00pm. It isn't the (often soothing) sound of the city... it's like staying in a construction zone. Then, is there anything to recommend at the Ambassador? Well, it isn't terribly expensive -- about US$35 based on the current (not very favorable) exchange rate to the Thai Baht. It almost always has rooms available. The rate includes breakfast, which is actually quite a nice spread and retails for about B400 -- more than 1/4th of the room rate. The buffet restaurant is quite large and equally cacophonous. Of all meals in the day, I most prefer my breakfast quiet, as I contemplate the day (and wake up). The "AC Cafe" as its called, is not that.

At the end of the day (literally), a hotel is a place to sleep and to keep the stuff you're traveling with. To that end, "clean", "quiet", "safe" are the key terms. "Clean", yeah its clean, in a dated, "how clean can you get a 30 year old carpet" way. "Quiet", well, after 11pm. "Safe" dunno. The doors have those security keys that go back to the 1970s (with the pits in the side of the key, instead of cuts in the top), but their master-keyed for the housekeeper and whoever else thinks they have business in the room. Signs caution you to double-lock the doors; "don't keep cameras or jewelry in the room". Know anybody that puts their camera in the house safe every time they leave their room without it? Me neither.

Western Music & Fish Balls on a Stick

Got up late, breakfast. Fetched the luggage I'd left behind at the last Bangkok hotel and moved it to this place. It was only about 7 blocks, but I threw our retirement savings to the taxi "wolves", and invested B40 (about $1.10 these days) for the comfort of not having to carry the stuff past the t-shirt vendor throngs and the hapless foreigners patronizing them along the sidewalks, for a half mile in 85 degree heat and humidity. So there.

I'd read in last Friday's paper, while up in Chiang Mai (Chiang Mai doesn't have its own English language daily, so the Bangkok papers are the norm), that there was a free classical music concert in Lumphini Park this evening (Sunday). Lumpini is a delightful oasis from the hustle and bustle of Bangkok, with palm trees, very few vendors. It's mostly Thais and blended Thai families. Since it was about an hour before dark (5:30), I thought I'd go around 3:30, wander around, take some pictures as the sun grew lower in the sky. Casts a lovely amber color to everything, and unlike sunrise, you don't have to wake up early to experience it.

Found the concert venue (this is a pretty big park), and set about my photographic wanderings.. Enroute found some mystery-balls-on-a-stick (fish, I think), and some fabulous pineapple chunks. Supplemented with beer (after I got back to the hotel), I believe I have a complete dinner. B62 ($1.77) for the lot. Maybe I'll have a 2nd beer, although I have to say last night's beer did not treat me kindly this morning.

The concert was OK, I left before it was over. It was the Bangkok Philharmonic Orchestra, the started out with the William Tell Overture (culture shock? Are we suffering culture shock?), some Brahms and then it was all Thai classical and folk music. Interesting, but it sounded dissonant to me -- it probably wasn't.

Kindness to Strangers

I've been using some all-day Skytrain (Bangkok's monorail system) passes the last couple of days. I think we had 5 from an earlier trip. They're good for an entire day of travel up until midnight. Fares tend toward 20-30 baht each way (it's about 35 baht to the US$ these days), and the pass can be purchased for B115 (these were free with an earlier hotel stay).

So if you consider the hassle factor of having to get change to buy individual tickets, if you piss away a few baht by not killing yourself cruising around BKK all day, what the heck. But throwing away "good money" does offend my Yankee sensibilities, so I needed to do something to assuage my guilt.

What I've been doing, is when I've had my fill of the Skytrain for the day, I go into the station (there's one quite close to my hotel) and search for a an English-speaking foreigner who is about to buy a ticket. I say "need a ticket?" -- of course they do, they're about to put money into the machine. I hand them the ticket, tell 'em it's good till midnight, and add "do something nice for another stranger, ok?". They invariably agree. What differs is the degree of incredulity they show. Nobody has been suspicious (I admit, I'd be looking for the "catch"), but some people have acted like they just won the lottery.

There is no wisdom greater than kindness
-- Aesop.

Cruising for Colossal Canoes

Sometime in January, 2007: The sun decided to come out today. Haven't seen it in days. Bad day to wear black pants, even if chosen because they're the lightest fabric you've got. The sun pretty much "comes out" every day here when it isn't the rainy season, but the sky has been cloudy (part overcast, part smog) such that when coupled with a breeze makes the humidity (which is the real killer) bearable. You have to take it slow, though, and as those who have spent any time walking with me -- I don't "slow" well. Sweat well. I sweat well.

Armed with Dermatologist Recommended (actually, Dermatologist supplied) SPF45 sunblock (I had melanoma a few years ago, fortunately got off with an 1 1/2" round hunk of my back removed down to the muscle layer -- but that's another story), I set off in search of the famous Thai Royal Barges, which (naturally) reside at the Royal Barges museum. Or maybe rather than "set off", I should say "sweat off". This seems more accurate. It is also what happened to that fancy sunblock -- sweat off.

The first hurdle is getting to the river (Chao Phraya -- the river that borders Bangkok and separates it from Thonburi). Not a big deal; Bangkok's Skytrain goes there, although a circuitous route up to the central station ("Siam") and back down. If you've ever seen the Thai "wai" -- it's the traditional greeting here: hands brought about up to near the nose in a fingertips touching, palms separated, inverted "V" sort of "prayer" position. The route's about like that. Call it the "wai way".

The next challenge is also easily met: get the correct water taxi to a particular pier ("Tha Pra Atith") upriver. There are 3 choices of boats: ordinary (stops everywhere), express (stops at about half the piers) and a special tourist boat (only stops a couple of places, costs twice as much). The express boat stops where I want to go (there's a map, in English even) with a list, and that happens to be the first to arrive. These boats can be real cattle cars, popular with both tourists and Thais), so the crowd surges to get on, and it can be a challenge to get off the thing too. They spend the absolute minimum time at each pier -- seconds, it seems like. You don't waste any time getting on or off, or you'll be waiting for the next boat. And the next.

Half an hour maybe, and I arrive at the recommended pier. No problem. I find the Thai script for "Royal Barges Museum" and realize there's no possible way I can pronounce it in a convincing manner. This is probably why I have never seen the name transliterated from Thai to English... Tha Pra Atith is near a bridge, and there's supposed to be a bus that will take me across the river. Find a bus stop. Nothing in English. Being male, of course I am genetically incapable of asking directions, except under extreme duress.

Fortunately after an hour (in the heat, remember) wandering around looking for either the bus or somebody with a clue, I stumble upon an information center. I stumble upon a Tourist Information Center. A lot of these "information centers" are travel agents thinly-veiled as info centers (this annoys me), but this one is legitimate. They dispel the notion that there is a bus, and recommend I go to the next-over pier, take a ferry across the river (3 baht; about a dime), and walk to the place. Well, I am at least "a quart low" on fluids (the usual surfeit of 7-11s with chilled Diet Coke are not to be found) and not entirely keen on this pending walk. The Info Centre assures me that it isn't far; Thais aren't particular fond of walking and they think we're nuts to go about it in the noonday sun, so I take credence in her time-estimate.

Would that so simple a "solution" be... simple. I get a bit daft in the heat (it's a warning sign for heat exhaustion). There are two bridges within sight. The one I should be crossing near, and the one I think is the one I want. We are discussing two different bridges.

After pondering my map for entirely too long, I break down and ask the first person to walk by. Now, in Thai, "arai?" ("what?") goes a long way. You can say "this thing... arai?" and point to a food; they will tell you either the name of the dish or at least what it is made of. It's an ambiguous sort of question where the answer is useful no matter what it is. BUT, when you ask "Bridge over there, arai?", people stare at you. But, having said the magic "Excuse me" in Thai (the one that literally means "Punish me"), the Thai person must try to help. They're genetically programmed for this. The question needs repeating, but the victim of my query replies with a pattern I could understand: "Bridge that blahblahblahblah". I didn't get the blahblahblahblah part, but it was clear that blahblahblahblah was not the bridge I thought it was. Wizened, I headed in the direction of the other bridge. I'll spare you the rest of the afternoon's travel misconceptions and just say I found my way to the other side of the river. I'd add though, it's now like 2:30, and in addition to being dehydrated, I haven't eaten since 8:00. Famished and dehydrated.

The other side of the river seems far less hectic than Banglamphu which is the old part of Bangkok and sort of the frenetic cheap hippie hangout part containing the street/area called "Khao San Road". Do a web search for this and see the caliber of offerings... There are tons of food vendors along the street. I settle down at one that's quiet but looks like good sanitation, have a 20 baht ("Twenty Baht Scott") meal of chicken curry with bamboo shoots, and completely mysterious meat with eggplants. These are quiet wonderful and I should know in 18-24 hours whether the ice water I could not pass up was contaminated. Bangkok's tap water is actually safe (if not especially tasty) to drink -- you just don't know where the ice has been, and you know what mom said ("Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been").

The curry was great, and they watch with amazement that I put hot pepper fish sauce on it. "The farang likes spice!". I try a phrase I'd asked Chef Sompon (Chiang Mai cooking class) for: "how do I ask for food spiced like an average Thai person would like". He taught me "Phet bepp Thai-Thai" which means "Spicy [in the] style [of a] Thai". Tried this on the street vendor. Nods of approval. This strategy would later practically kill me (or at least, my taste buds) in the south of Thailand, where food "Bepp Thai-Thai" is a lot hotter.

The instructions I have say, "turn left on the side street after Wat Dusit (Dusit Temple)". OK that seems unambiguous, but Wat Dusit is a complex, with a big school around it. It isn't entirely clear where the temple starts and thus the side-street-after would be. I take a risk that "Soi Wat Dusit" (labeled in English, yay!) is the magic street, and proceed down it. There are no signs along the way for what I seek.

Lo and behold I finally see signs for the museum. It looks like they were scratched out in desperation by somebody who got sick of directing foreigners to the place. It is the most unlikely path imaginable, though narrow paths by -- practically through -- people's houses. This isn't the city -- this is the barrio with Thais. There are unlovable mutts scattered along the path. They get out of the way for the occasional motorcycle, but you? You can just walk around them, thanks. The path twists and turns -- I want to leave a trail of bread crumbs behind to find my way back, but the roaming chickens would have eaten them if the mangy mutts hadn't beat them to it.

Are we at 3/4s fun yet?

The museum is interesting. "Barges" doesn't really seem an apt description for this things: think half a dozen, 150-foot long canoes that accommodate hundreds of rowers and a single monarch or maybe two, parked in covered drydock. They're incredibly ornate, with characters from Hindu mythology prominently at the prow and repeated across the entire length. The last one was made about a decade ago by some 200 Craftsmen using Computer Aided Design, and a whole lot of manual labor. It was a gift to the King for then-50 years of dedication to the country. The King loves the people, and the people love the His Majesty.

The trip back was far less adventurous and culminated on beer, a shower, nap and some sunburn-nursing.

My time in Bangkok is nearing its end -- one more full day then time to pack up for the coming SCUBA trip and off to the airport. Space is tight on the boat and you really don't need much anyway (like that jacket I have with me for the return home), so my plan is to pack as little as possible to carry with me to Phuket, and to leave the rest at the airport hotel, where I am staying the night before the flight home. This will be a neat trick as I have just two pieces of luggage plus my backpack, and I have to get the dive gear and boat cabin stuff more or less separated and the rest packed that it can be left behind. Perhaps I will consult with Kathy, "she who manages to pack everything and forget nothing".

"Cheap and Good"

Stopped at an indoor restaurant (read "aircon") for dinner and a beer. It's actually located just inside a FoodMart Supermarket. Handy.

Ordered a big beer, it wasn't especially cold so I took it slowly. This place was sort of like an American diner, where the server is a metre, sorry (American Diner), "3 feet" away, slaving over a hot stove (wok in this case). But it was rippin' fun to watch. She would make fried rice, assemble the spices that went into it in her wok spoon, literally faster than I could follow with my eyes. The flame on the wok was so high that it came above the wok's rim. Fried rice in 30 seconds.

Watched her do a variety of Thai and western food. This ain't haute cuisine to be sure, but tasty and cheap.

I'd eaten at this place a number of times before, the name is transliterated as "Took Lae Dee". I figured hey, just some random Chinese restaurant chain. Then I thought about it:

"Took lae dee" --> "Thuuk leh' dii" --> "cheap and good".

It fits. And the squid's fine too.

An Unplanned Walk Through Chinatown with "Vincent"

Best laid plans. After a delightful Thai massage this mid-morning, and a well-deserved nap, I let the sun get a little lower on the horizon, and headed for the Chao Phraya (the river that runs through Bangkok) to take a river taxi (it costs like 40c) up river for a couple of miles. Take some pictures, visit a temple on the far side of the river I've meant to literally for years. It was not to be.

Get on the boat around 5:15 PM. Despite Bangkok's smog, a carpet of yellow setting sun glows over the river. Great timing. I'm checking out the various sites and sights. Raise camera. Compose. Focus. Press shutter. Click! Photo. Another subject. Press. Silence. The damn battery is dead. Now, digital cameras are renowned for lousy battery life, but I'm using a digital SLR camera -- professional grade kit. The battery easily lasts for days of frequent use -- never mind a couple of hours. I'd charged this battery the previous night. Seemed fine.

Turns out, this was the "Brand X" battery that came as a freebie with my outrageously expensive camera. I guess it was worth what I paid for it... nothing. It is now in Bangkok's trash system, and I can dispatch Queen of Internet Commerce and Lovely Wife Katherine, to the task of finding the best deal on a real battery.

Realized my plan was not going to happen, so with a quick check  of the map I verified which tha (pier) would put me closest to a metro station. Bangkok's skytrain doesn't get out to that part of town; the new subway system gets closer. Hualumphung, the main train station, is both in the area, and is the terminus of the new underground system. So I walk town Yawarot Rd (the main drag through Chinatown), sampling tasty bits from street vendors, wiping sweat from my brow, and, as it turned out one place I stopped, pigeon poop from my shoulder. "Shit happens".

I expected it would be a long walk -- couple of miles -- so just hunkered down and literally took it step by step. As you might expect in a Chinatown, Bangkok's is filled with Thais of Chinese ancestry. I looks practically like a different city from the rest. Moreover, I begin to notice, nearly everyone here is wearing a yellow shirt. It's like a cult or something. Turns out all over Thailand, almost everyone is wearing a yellow shirt. I finally ask back at the hotel, why.  "It is to show our respect for the King and our country". "OK, I can go along with that (although I don't think I have anything that color with me) -- but it isn't a holiday or anything, right?". "No, not a holiday. We do it on Mondays. Some people do it every day".

Who knew? Note to self: wear yellow on Mondays.

Back to Chinatown. I come across another white face; he looks perplexed. Street intersections in that part of Bangkok aren't particularly rectilinear, so unless you're following the river (I knew that it was on my right, but not exactly how far away or whether I was getting nearer or farther away) it is hard to keep going in a particular direction. Add to this that the street names change, and there are roundabouts...chaotic. It is "Vincent", from Memphis. He's looking for the train station, as am I (actually I'm looking for the metro station at the train station -- close enough). "I'll follow you", he says. "You fool", I think to my self. "OK", I say. Success is 80% confidence, 20% competence, no?

We walk for a half hour  or so and check bearings, chatting along the way. He's a Massage Therapy student, just came from Chiang Mai (me too) where he was studying; part of a group of annoyingly-unadventurous travelers. Apparently he blew them off, and agreed to meet them somewhere else along the tour.

Vincent seemed a bit disoriented. I thought maybe he was just a dolt (it happens...) but he later mentioned that he left at 6:00am and spent the day in Ayuttaya -- it's about 60 miles away from Bangkok -- and come this back this afternoon. Now he was headed for the south, Surat Thani, by train. We overshot the train station, finally took a cab over, for the princely sum of $1.10. Just the aircon was worth it. "Wish I could just spend all my time and money on travel", he lamented. "You can", I said. Made me wonder what the hell he was doing in Chinatown looking for the train station, but hey, some things are best left un-asked.

The last time I was in Bangkok's Chinatown was with friends visiting along with their then 15(?) year old. It was the middle of Chinese New Year (Feb 18th this year -- I'll be on a SCUBA diving boat off the Burmese coast this year) and Chinatown was choc a bloc with Thais and foreigners alike. Today was a completely different experience. Could have been San Francisco, 'cept the streets signs are in Thai. The only crowds were the normal evening rush hours. Little fanfare. Like San Francisco's Chinatown, this neighborhood is old, well preserved -- and on the dirty side. It isn't Bangkok's classiest neighborhood. And, untransformed by New Year's festivities, I didn't find much to recommend it. The sui mai were excellent, however.

Tonight I'll take my camera over to the Patpong nightlife. I'm not particularly inclined to interact with that life tonight, so I'll take the big telephoto lens and the monopod I picked up for it just recently here in the City of Angels.