Monday August 1, 2011
Time seems to have slipped past me yet again as I find myself struggling to get to my journal a week since my last entry. This time I provide no valid excuses and instead wish to rest on the laurels of my previous posts, hoping that they have been sufficiently engaging so that my readers will absolve me for my literary absence. But a recap of the events will be provided to the best of my memory; starting with…
…around Tuesday July 26, 2011
I have made my return to the rapturous city of Bangkok. I had planned on arriving on one of Thailand’s trains but I realized it would be the same price and easier if I just took yet another bus. This time VIP actually meant something as our seats were larger and more comfortable and a small box of food was brought to us still early in the night. I venture the difference resides in the fact that this bus was owned and operated by someone in Thailand. It’s funny how little it takes for one to notice that in their transition over the span of a bridge certain standards have changed and the norm of expectance has risen. Nevertheless sleep successfully evaded me yet again as the air conditioning had been set somewhere below absolute zero and the blanket, or towel, that was given to keep me warm covered but half my body. My seat was quite enjoyable though, as I was in 1A on the upper level with a giant windshield as my view. These buses have flat fronts so you really have a front row seat to the action on the road. Our driver was not one to be pestered with a late arrival, as I saw us flying by every vehicle on the road. I must admit when you are seated in front of a giant shield of glass you realize that if you hit anything I would likely set a new long jump record before sliding face first to a halt on the asphalt. I mean, nothing happened but that didn’t stop me from picturing it.
And so I arrived at a prompt 5:15 am at a bus station much too far from the city center to allow me to walk anywhere helpful. I would venture a walk would have taken 2 hours or more, depending on if it began raining. It is with great agitation that the cities in SE Asia that I have thus encountered have been placed at such asinine locations that even the most patient of tourist must feel vengeful. For the small towns that you visit, you will notice that the bus station is placed 2 to 10 km from the city. A city whose greater metropolis area holds 2 thousand residents and has a total of 2 streets in the whole town will have its bus station 5 km outside of the city. For any tourist this poses an obvious obstacle, one that can only be overcome with additional transportation. I must note that even for the most diehard broke backpacker anything over 2 miles with full luggage is usually avoided. But who: man, beast, or machine will help such a problem? Enter the tuk-tuk driver. Upon arriving at any destination in Laos there were heaps of these drivers waiting to take whisk you into the city center, the place 99% of arriving Westerners wish to go. The problem would appear solved except the fare that is charged never seems adequately matched with the service provided. That is tuk tuk’s from a bus station to a city center cover a relatively negligible distance but charge vastly inflated rates. For instance, you can take a bus covering 100km for 50,000 Kip. When you arrive in the middle of nowhere at a bus station outside of town you have to pay a tuk-tuk 15,000 Kip to take you the 4 km into town. I realize it is just another part of traveling that I must endure but it does work to tire the long term traveler. And when even a large city is incapable of linking transit with convenience for people I find it that more disgusting.
Excuse my rant, but sometimes I find it necessary to ease my discontent with things I encounter while traveling by venting through literary expression. Anyway, I made my way back to my usual place of rest in Bangkok, the good ‘ol Riverline Guesthouse. The proprietors are beginning to recognize and remember me; even after shaving my head and letting my beard grow until it resembles a wild bush. I was glad to return to something familiar, a place where I could sleep, eat and live with a sense of normalcy. I was waiting for David to arrive the following night and so I looked at the next 36 hours as an opportunity to avoid the usual rapid pace of a traveler and simply sit and wait. I took all my meals at my favorite open restaurant just a few yards down from my guesthouse. I believe I have already recounted the relationship that had previously formed with the chef and it was with great bravado that I reappeared at her “kitchen”. I was met with a welcoming smile as she happily prepared my favorite dish, mixed pad thai. Yes, I know Thailand has so many good foods to offer that it seems almost ignorant to revert to the most common dish served in America under the guise of Thai food. But honestly I’ve eaten everything on her menu and this is just too damn good to pass up!
So by Wednesday July 27th …
I retraced the steps I had made when meeting Sarah at Bangkok’s international airport. Umbrella in hand and with my frayed and torn map tucked in my pocket I made the hour walk to the Skytrain to ride to BKK. His flight was early but his arrival not as punctual since he had been delayed at the baggage counter; exchanging broken English with the Delta employee as to why his backpack was not on the carousel. As a token of their regret they gave him a t-shirt and toothbrush and told him to call back tomorrow. I suppose it’s better than a pack of peanuts but really I suppose one should not expect gushing generosity and condolences from the ramshackle American airline industry.
Us both being much too masculine to embrace with arms draped over each other’s backs, I shook his hand and welcomed him to Bangkok. His adventure of SE Asia had commenced while I was already 3 months deep into mine. David had come to travel with me for a month and I decided it would be interesting as I learn to travel with someone after becoming accustomed to the lifestyle of being a solo nomad. So as I had with Sarah a month before we made our way back towards the guesthouse, stopping first on Koh San Road to sample the local Chang and chat amidst the revelry unfolding before us. We hadn’t seen each other for quite some time so there was always a topic to discuss until we found ourselves being ushered from the bar as it was closing time.
The following day I did my best as a walking tour guide and navigated our way around the metropolis, retracing steps I had taken by myself, with Sarah and now with David. Walking a city is a good cheap way to get a feel for the culture and the pace of life of the citizens and best of all to taste all the good food Bangkok has to offer. There’s definitely something pleasurable about being the one to introduce grilled pork skewers, fried bananas and Thai sausages to someone. Not to mention eating them all as well. I beckon someone else to visit just so I have a good excuse for another banana pancake with chocolate sauce. For me Bangkok is as much about the food as it is the temples, especially since your appetite for Pagodas is quickly filled but you are always hungry for grilled meats.
We booked a train ride north to Chang Mai for Friday night and were disappointed to learn that all sleeper bunks were full for the following four days and we would have to take a/c seats instead. The cost being strangely higher than a sleeper we both knew that sleep would be more difficult in just a reclining seat. Time being a foremost concern we purchased anyway hoping that some local Hong Thong whiskey could ease the journey. I found our seats modestly comfortable with satisfaction declining as the hours ticked by and the a/c was again set to Antarctic. My pack being stowed away from me I huddled under my child sized blanket and closed my eyes and plugged in my mp3 only to find it not functioning and forcing me to listen to the cacophonous skidding sounds of the train’s undercarriage.
…Friday July 29th 2011
Chang Mai is located in the northern part of Thailand and is known for being a relaxed city frequented by backpackers looking for a trek in the jungle and a ride on an elephant. But like most activities that I have considered, it is becoming increasingly clear that the prices are climbing higher and seem more appropriate for the tourist and not the backpacker. Sure $30 really isn’t that much money in the grand scheme but for the long term traveler that could be two days traveling. Not only that but these events seem much more commercialized than advertised, as hordes of people retrace each other’s steps and the treks are much too short and the enjoyment of the trip in question. On the other hand, how often will one have another such opportunity to pet tigers, ride an elephant or hike to local villages? To me having trekked Nepal the modest “hikes” hold little interest for me and as for the elephants I guess we just took a pass on that one.
Instead we saved our cash and took to the streets the first day with city bicycles. It is becoming my routine to enter a city, get a map and find a bike to assist in my city navigation. Although tired from our night train ride we viewed much of the city which has within it an “old city” with is a giant square sized area with a moat and brick wall surrounding it separating it from the rest of the city. Later we found a giant night market and puttered around the various booths as David looked for various items that might be of interest to those back home.
After checking prices for jungle treks and elephant riding and mountain bike tours we used my old traveler fallback; we chose none of them. While the proliferation of companies that offer such services is reminiscent of dandelions the degree of service is consistently dismal from all. If you are there to buy then smiles abound, but if you only want some simple information that won’t yield them a commission then frowns instantly appear and the lying begins. And so when we decided to get mountain bikes on our own and take a ride to Doi Suthep we were searching for places to get the bikes, helmets and direction to the temple. The lady selling mountain bike tours after hearing that we did not want to spend $45 for a group mountain bike package told us that “biking alone is not fun” and “can be very expensive.” She didn’t know where we could get bikes and appeared to be in utter disbelief that anyone would consider what we were doing.
And so we found our mountain bikes later and although we had to settle for motorcycle style helmets we figured that was a better option than leaving our melons to the whims of the Thai drivers. We did a free internet search for the location and took off to Doi Suthep. The ride was absolutely amazing and kicked our ass. It’s roughly 10 miles from Chiang Mai to the temple, a temple that to the casual observer (me) is of no more impressive than the last thousand temples, but the selected method of arriving there was the real adventure. After about 2 miles the road begins to ascend quickly with few descending disruptions, leaving our hamstrings and quads and calves screaming for a rest. As we struggled up the steepest climbs we would see motorbikes of locals and taxis of tourists watching with looks of awe and concern as they drove past. At one point we even had someone taking our photo. I guess it’s not too common for people to ride a bike when you could pay to be driven up! It took us about 2 hours to do the whole climb up, at which point we were treated with...(drum roll)…a temple. Supposedly very sacred and blah blah blah we walked around and decided to come back. We were originally worried about the descent given the grade and potential traffic issues but it was an absolute blast. We likely burned away any remnants of brake pads that we had as we flew down the mountain. To its credit the road was the best I have seen yet in Thailand as the uphill [left] side had a continuous extra lane that could be used by either side of the road. What had taken us 2 hours took 20 minutes to come down as a light rain began to fall and added some real excitement to the rush hour traffic. Needless to say it was yet again a cheap and simple activity selection that yielded a truly satisfying day. No insults if you took a taxi up there but I bet your memories won’t include flying by the same laughing taxis as you descend down the winding rain slicked road from Doi Suthep.
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