Hor Phra Monthian Dharma
January 08, 2005
Farewell, Brother
Once again, there was a certain amount of loafing going on when morning came around. Eventually, we dragged ourselves out of bed and I went through the painful process of hungover packing so I could take my stuff up to Khao San to meet Charlie for lunch. I wanted to stay somewhere a little cheaper and more central after Dave’s departure – and checking in any later than midday in that part of town is only for the desperate and the foolish. It turned out to be the hottest day I’d seen so far in Bangkok and struggling down the road with my bags trying to find a taxi brought my hangover on a treat. When we finally climbed into the air-conditioned bliss of a cab, we found that our driver had obviously not had to pass a local version of ‘The Knowledge’ to get his plates. He must have been the only taxi-driver in the whole of Bangkok who didn’t know his way to the Khao San Road. Dripping with sweat, head pounding and – dare I say it – a little irritable, there was no way on earth I was going to haul my bags out of his boot and stand around in the merciless sun waiting for another cab. Having made the journey a few times, I decided I must be capable of giving the guy directions…little realising that my back-up plan – getting the LP out to help – was doomed to failure as both Dave and I had contrived to leave our copies at the hotel. However, with a touch of smugness (and a great deal of surprise from both myself and Dave), I managed to direct us straight to our goal and we met up with Charlie at the designated time.
My hangover must have been particularly bad, as I couldn’t even bring myself to finish lunch. The harsh humidity and heat certainly weren’t helping and, in this dilapidated state, I was dragging my bags to the hotel when Texas Jo (from the Philippines) wandered by. I can’t have given a particularly effusive reception to the poor girl, but it was pleasant, all the same, to bump into yet another former companion so far from where we first met. We made vague arrangements to meet up at some point but without any real enthusiasm and I didn’t expect to see her before I left the city.
While I was dumping my bags at the hotel, Dave disappeared and when I came back out onto the street, I found him talking to Carl – our Scouse compadre from the trek in Chiang Mai. It turned out he, Mark and Rachael were staying in another hotel round the corner. We made plans to meet them a little later, for a final beer before I saw Dave off on the train to the airport.
Dave and I spent a painful afternoon sight-seeing at the Grand Palace. This necessitated the purchase of suitable clothing (after I’d forgotten about the need for modest dress in the holy and high places of a Buddhist country) and consisted of brief bursts of activity, followed by long periods of sitting in the shade – at least on my part! Despite my pain, even I couldn’t fail to be impressed by the opulence and splendour of the architecture and artwork of over three centuries of royal endeavour. Everything, from the Emerald Buddha in Wat Pra Khaew to the scale replica of Angkor Wat and the thousands of metres of murals around the perimeter walls, was truly impressive and I was glad to have made the effort instead of cowering in an air-conditioned room.
Later, we headed back past Khao San to have a look round the Banglamphu markets on a final scavenge for souvenirs and presents for Dave. In the end, nothing really took our fancy and we went to meet the Scousers for that beer. Finally, goodbyes said and hands shaken, we jumped into a cab and headed back to the railway station hotel to get Dave’s bags packed and to freshen up after a sticky, tiring day. This accomplished, we headed back to Chinatown for a farewell meal and a last look at Bangkok streetlife. Frustratingly, everything was closed on account of a Buddhist holiday and we wandered the narrow alleys and quiet streets for some time before we finally found a street stall selling duck noodle soup. At a wallet-busting price of 40p each, Dave felt fortunate to have found an opportunity to offload his surplus Baht ;-)
We headed to the train station with a little time to spare and I treated him to a mocha frappucino at the coffee shop before walking down the platform to see him off.
It had been a hectic and thoroughly enjoyable couple of weeks. It was so fantastic to have one of my closest friends sharing a little of the amazing experiences this trip has given me - and I like to think the seeds of Dave’s wanderlust had been successfully sown. After 3 months in which I’d really come to appreciate just how much my friends and family mean to me, to have this contact with my life back home was a truly precious gift. Putting him on that train has to be one of the lower points of the trip…but this last fortnight’s pleasure far outweighed any temporary sadness. Furthermore, I knew the 7 months before I saw him again would pass in no time at all.
Nonetheless, it was a slightly dejected me that headed back into town to meet Charlie and the Scousers for a few quiet beers. And for once, they were quiet…I think Dave must have been a bad influence on me…hmmmmm
My hangover must have been particularly bad, as I couldn’t even bring myself to finish lunch. The harsh humidity and heat certainly weren’t helping and, in this dilapidated state, I was dragging my bags to the hotel when Texas Jo (from the Philippines) wandered by. I can’t have given a particularly effusive reception to the poor girl, but it was pleasant, all the same, to bump into yet another former companion so far from where we first met. We made vague arrangements to meet up at some point but without any real enthusiasm and I didn’t expect to see her before I left the city.
While I was dumping my bags at the hotel, Dave disappeared and when I came back out onto the street, I found him talking to Carl – our Scouse compadre from the trek in Chiang Mai. It turned out he, Mark and Rachael were staying in another hotel round the corner. We made plans to meet them a little later, for a final beer before I saw Dave off on the train to the airport.
Dave and I spent a painful afternoon sight-seeing at the Grand Palace. This necessitated the purchase of suitable clothing (after I’d forgotten about the need for modest dress in the holy and high places of a Buddhist country) and consisted of brief bursts of activity, followed by long periods of sitting in the shade – at least on my part! Despite my pain, even I couldn’t fail to be impressed by the opulence and splendour of the architecture and artwork of over three centuries of royal endeavour. Everything, from the Emerald Buddha in Wat Pra Khaew to the scale replica of Angkor Wat and the thousands of metres of murals around the perimeter walls, was truly impressive and I was glad to have made the effort instead of cowering in an air-conditioned room.
Later, we headed back past Khao San to have a look round the Banglamphu markets on a final scavenge for souvenirs and presents for Dave. In the end, nothing really took our fancy and we went to meet the Scousers for that beer. Finally, goodbyes said and hands shaken, we jumped into a cab and headed back to the railway station hotel to get Dave’s bags packed and to freshen up after a sticky, tiring day. This accomplished, we headed back to Chinatown for a farewell meal and a last look at Bangkok streetlife. Frustratingly, everything was closed on account of a Buddhist holiday and we wandered the narrow alleys and quiet streets for some time before we finally found a street stall selling duck noodle soup. At a wallet-busting price of 40p each, Dave felt fortunate to have found an opportunity to offload his surplus Baht ;-)
We headed to the train station with a little time to spare and I treated him to a mocha frappucino at the coffee shop before walking down the platform to see him off.
It had been a hectic and thoroughly enjoyable couple of weeks. It was so fantastic to have one of my closest friends sharing a little of the amazing experiences this trip has given me - and I like to think the seeds of Dave’s wanderlust had been successfully sown. After 3 months in which I’d really come to appreciate just how much my friends and family mean to me, to have this contact with my life back home was a truly precious gift. Putting him on that train has to be one of the lower points of the trip…but this last fortnight’s pleasure far outweighed any temporary sadness. Furthermore, I knew the 7 months before I saw him again would pass in no time at all.
Nonetheless, it was a slightly dejected me that headed back into town to meet Charlie and the Scousers for a few quiet beers. And for once, they were quiet…I think Dave must have been a bad influence on me…hmmmmm
January 07, 2005
Ayuthaya…and a return to Bangkok
After a lie-in (no guesses why!), Dave and I met up with Lior and Smadar for a farewell lunch at a riverside restaurant, recommended by Jo and Jez. We weren’t disappointed by the quality of the cuisine, nor the peaceful views along the river and it was pleasant to spend a last couple of hours with this affable couple. We ate to our hearts’ content and, reluctantly said our goodbyes as we parted to go our separate ways. Smadar and Lior were planning to head into Laos, while we were due to take the night-train back to Ayuthaya, the country’s ancient former capital. This would be a brief pit-stop en-route to Bangkok, where Dave was due to catch his flight home and I was hoping to hear from the aid agencies about the possibility of helping with the rebuilding efforts on the Andaman coast.
When we’d purchased our tickets earlier in the week, there had been no choice but for 2nd class sleeper accommodation. However, on arrival at the station, I wasn’t happy about the security of sleeping in an open carriage with all my baggage (not least, the recently purchased carpet). I knew that travel agencies often block-booked 1st sleepers, releasing them on the day of travel if they weren’t filled – so there was a chance we might be able to get an upgrade. Sure enough, there were some spare berths and Dave and I were able to take the overnight train trip we should have had when he first arrived.
With our own little compartment, a sound-system (of sorts) and the bottle of Glenmorangie that my Dad had sent over for Christmas, we had the makings of a good party and we were soon underway with the trance pumping. We eventually crashed out well after midnight and it was a shock to the system when we pulled into Ayuthaya at stupid o’clock in the pre-dawn gloom. Bleary-eyed and still a little tipsy, we dumped our bags with an unresponsive station porter and made our way into town to find breakfast and a suitable vantage point for sunrise.
The majority of Ayuthaya was a grim, garbage-infested wasteland but we saw a glorious sunrise over the river and eventually found a street café selling delicious smoked pork and rice at the ridiculous price of 50p each. Thus fortified we took a tour of some of the ancient temples and monuments that are the legacy of the city’s former importance.
Much of the older architecture bore similarities to the Angkorian monuments I’d seen in Cambodia – unsurprising, considering that the Khmer empire was, for a long time, the ruling force in this part of the world. The tall towers of Wat Ratburana in particular were typical of Khmer artistry. This mausoleum’s deep subterranean burial chamber was at the foot of an extremely steep, narrow flight of steps but the 14th century murals still evident in the cramped chamber made it well worth the effort. Wat Pra Mahathat contains a Buddha head enveloped in the roots of an ancient Boddhi tree and the distinctive spires of the chedi at Wat Pra Si Sanphet are the design from which all later classic Thai architecture stems. We visited the national museum where many of the artefacts from these archaeological sites are housed for safe keeping and their richness and the overall sense of history that they convey made us glad of our visit. Ayuthaya is fascinating and a must-see for any visitor interested in the Thai culture. However, I was disappointed at the dirt and pollution in a city that has UNESCO World Heritage status. Tired and templed out, we caught an afternoon ‘cattle’ train for an uncomfortable and sweaty journey to Bangkok. Still, at 25p for an 80km journey, it would have been churlish to complain.
We checked into hotel next to the train station – as much for rapid access to a hot shower after 24hrs of travelling as for the ease of getting Dave to the airport the following evening. After a quick wash and brush up we decided to take a wander down to Chinatown for a bite (or twenty!) to eat and to soak up a little street-life. For two hours we sucked in the hectic sights and smells and devoured a little of everything from some of the hundreds of street stalls littering the busy pavements. The streets were literally teeming with slow-moving window-shoppers and the narrow back-alleys felt like the front row of a Metallica concert – with the occasional over-laden moped causing the crowds to scatter like a brood of chickens before a hungry fox. Dusty and footsore, we headed back to the hotel to freshen up again before I took Dave to sample the dubious pleasures of Bangkok’s nightlife and the Khao San Road.
We had gone first to Gullivers, on account of its air-con, widescreen sports and internet access. Whilst briefly checking my e-mail, I found that Joe (from the Full Moon Party) was also in town. At first I felt only frustration but then it occurred to me that we were highly likely to see him if we wandered down the Khao San Road for long enough. Sure enough, not 20 minutes later, Dave spotted him while I was making enquiries in a tailor’s shop about copying some shorts. We were all chuffed to bits at the prospect of one final night out together and immediately bought beer to celebrate. As we were sat sipping at a streetside café, I was surprised to see a friend from Serendipity Beach walking by. Charlie was in town before heading back to Cambodia after Christmas and New Year in Bali. Now there were four of us, which in my book constitutes a gang. After a little discussion,I took the boys to sample the culinary delights of Vijit restaurant, which I'd discovered on my last visit. We had an interesting encounter with the ambiguous looking singer from the dire band providing the live entertainment. He seemed to have a real soft spot for Joe in particular. After dinner - fortified by a full belly and a few more Singhas - we agreed to check out the infamous Patphong area of town. Famous for its go-go bars, lady boys and general amorality, it wasn’t somewhere I think any of us would have ventured alone. However, feeling safety in our numbers, we wanted to see what all the fuss was about and, perhaps, catch one of the novelty shows.
Now this is a family blog so I won’t go into specific detail about what we saw. Suffice to say, the stage-show entertainment was unique and, er…interesting…but everything else about the place left a dirty taste in the mouth. There’s no denying the beauty of many of the girls who work in the establishments down the main strip, but they are there for one purpose – and one purpose only – to make money. There is no subtlety about what is on offer and little pretence that these girls enjoy what they do. Many, in fact, seemed either bored or unhappy, which led me to ask one (a girl called Mai) why she was there. She told me that her parents needed the money from her extra-curricular activities and that one day, if she made enough money, she would like to go to University. This almost sounds rational and, certainly while the market exists, one cannot blame her for making money the best she can. However, the idea that she was entering into this by her own free will can not be seriously entertained. At the four ‘bars’ we visited, many of the girls looked young enough to still be at school and the overwhelming impression was that they were expected to ‘entertain’ as many clients as possible. Sadly, even if there were a few of these girls who had freely chosen to take up this oldest of professions, it was plain to see who would be taking the lion’s share of the profits: the piggy-eyed, mean-faced old witches who appeared out of back rooms to chivvy their ‘employees’ along. The four of us eventually left feeling tarnished and slightly nauseated by the experience. Returning to Gullivers (remember my Christmas Eve description of the place?) was like walking into a church coffee morning in comparison to what we’d just seen and we fell to drinking every kind of cocktail imaginable to try and rid our mouths of the unclean taste of Patphong. Come kicking out time, I found that Joe and Dave had gotten lucky and were disappearing with a couple of other tourists. I made a solitary taxi ride back to the hotel and crashed out the second I got through the door.
When we’d purchased our tickets earlier in the week, there had been no choice but for 2nd class sleeper accommodation. However, on arrival at the station, I wasn’t happy about the security of sleeping in an open carriage with all my baggage (not least, the recently purchased carpet). I knew that travel agencies often block-booked 1st sleepers, releasing them on the day of travel if they weren’t filled – so there was a chance we might be able to get an upgrade. Sure enough, there were some spare berths and Dave and I were able to take the overnight train trip we should have had when he first arrived.
With our own little compartment, a sound-system (of sorts) and the bottle of Glenmorangie that my Dad had sent over for Christmas, we had the makings of a good party and we were soon underway with the trance pumping. We eventually crashed out well after midnight and it was a shock to the system when we pulled into Ayuthaya at stupid o’clock in the pre-dawn gloom. Bleary-eyed and still a little tipsy, we dumped our bags with an unresponsive station porter and made our way into town to find breakfast and a suitable vantage point for sunrise.
The majority of Ayuthaya was a grim, garbage-infested wasteland but we saw a glorious sunrise over the river and eventually found a street café selling delicious smoked pork and rice at the ridiculous price of 50p each. Thus fortified we took a tour of some of the ancient temples and monuments that are the legacy of the city’s former importance.
Much of the older architecture bore similarities to the Angkorian monuments I’d seen in Cambodia – unsurprising, considering that the Khmer empire was, for a long time, the ruling force in this part of the world. The tall towers of Wat Ratburana in particular were typical of Khmer artistry. This mausoleum’s deep subterranean burial chamber was at the foot of an extremely steep, narrow flight of steps but the 14th century murals still evident in the cramped chamber made it well worth the effort. Wat Pra Mahathat contains a Buddha head enveloped in the roots of an ancient Boddhi tree and the distinctive spires of the chedi at Wat Pra Si Sanphet are the design from which all later classic Thai architecture stems. We visited the national museum where many of the artefacts from these archaeological sites are housed for safe keeping and their richness and the overall sense of history that they convey made us glad of our visit. Ayuthaya is fascinating and a must-see for any visitor interested in the Thai culture. However, I was disappointed at the dirt and pollution in a city that has UNESCO World Heritage status. Tired and templed out, we caught an afternoon ‘cattle’ train for an uncomfortable and sweaty journey to Bangkok. Still, at 25p for an 80km journey, it would have been churlish to complain.
We checked into hotel next to the train station – as much for rapid access to a hot shower after 24hrs of travelling as for the ease of getting Dave to the airport the following evening. After a quick wash and brush up we decided to take a wander down to Chinatown for a bite (or twenty!) to eat and to soak up a little street-life. For two hours we sucked in the hectic sights and smells and devoured a little of everything from some of the hundreds of street stalls littering the busy pavements. The streets were literally teeming with slow-moving window-shoppers and the narrow back-alleys felt like the front row of a Metallica concert – with the occasional over-laden moped causing the crowds to scatter like a brood of chickens before a hungry fox. Dusty and footsore, we headed back to the hotel to freshen up again before I took Dave to sample the dubious pleasures of Bangkok’s nightlife and the Khao San Road.
We had gone first to Gullivers, on account of its air-con, widescreen sports and internet access. Whilst briefly checking my e-mail, I found that Joe (from the Full Moon Party) was also in town. At first I felt only frustration but then it occurred to me that we were highly likely to see him if we wandered down the Khao San Road for long enough. Sure enough, not 20 minutes later, Dave spotted him while I was making enquiries in a tailor’s shop about copying some shorts. We were all chuffed to bits at the prospect of one final night out together and immediately bought beer to celebrate. As we were sat sipping at a streetside café, I was surprised to see a friend from Serendipity Beach walking by. Charlie was in town before heading back to Cambodia after Christmas and New Year in Bali. Now there were four of us, which in my book constitutes a gang. After a little discussion,I took the boys to sample the culinary delights of Vijit restaurant, which I'd discovered on my last visit. We had an interesting encounter with the ambiguous looking singer from the dire band providing the live entertainment. He seemed to have a real soft spot for Joe in particular. After dinner - fortified by a full belly and a few more Singhas - we agreed to check out the infamous Patphong area of town. Famous for its go-go bars, lady boys and general amorality, it wasn’t somewhere I think any of us would have ventured alone. However, feeling safety in our numbers, we wanted to see what all the fuss was about and, perhaps, catch one of the novelty shows.
Now this is a family blog so I won’t go into specific detail about what we saw. Suffice to say, the stage-show entertainment was unique and, er…interesting…but everything else about the place left a dirty taste in the mouth. There’s no denying the beauty of many of the girls who work in the establishments down the main strip, but they are there for one purpose – and one purpose only – to make money. There is no subtlety about what is on offer and little pretence that these girls enjoy what they do. Many, in fact, seemed either bored or unhappy, which led me to ask one (a girl called Mai) why she was there. She told me that her parents needed the money from her extra-curricular activities and that one day, if she made enough money, she would like to go to University. This almost sounds rational and, certainly while the market exists, one cannot blame her for making money the best she can. However, the idea that she was entering into this by her own free will can not be seriously entertained. At the four ‘bars’ we visited, many of the girls looked young enough to still be at school and the overwhelming impression was that they were expected to ‘entertain’ as many clients as possible. Sadly, even if there were a few of these girls who had freely chosen to take up this oldest of professions, it was plain to see who would be taking the lion’s share of the profits: the piggy-eyed, mean-faced old witches who appeared out of back rooms to chivvy their ‘employees’ along. The four of us eventually left feeling tarnished and slightly nauseated by the experience. Returning to Gullivers (remember my Christmas Eve description of the place?) was like walking into a church coffee morning in comparison to what we’d just seen and we fell to drinking every kind of cocktail imaginable to try and rid our mouths of the unclean taste of Patphong. Come kicking out time, I found that Joe and Dave had gotten lucky and were disappearing with a couple of other tourists. I made a solitary taxi ride back to the hotel and crashed out the second I got through the door.
January 05, 2005
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