Before continuing to the next stage of the adventure, here is a brief interlude.
For anyone that wants to know what its like to meet and befriend people along the travelling path, I give you the formula for introduction.
I have realised along the way there is a set greeting discourse that happens with everyone you meet in the same situation. Almost more of a ritual than a conversation. It goes as follows:
(Some elements are interchangeable, these are the bits in brackets)
Me: Hi, hows it going? I'm Hugh
Them: Oh hey, nice to meet you, I'm (Olga)
Me: Pleasure to meet you (Olga), where are you from?
Them: I'm from (Holland), how about you?
Me: Im from London
Them: Ah thats cool, I have friends in England, do you know (Enfield)
Me: Um yeah I know of it, never really been there though
Them: Ah well thats where they are from. Do you know (Holland)?
Me: Yeah I know (Amsterdam), lovely place.
Them: Cool, so how long have you been travelling?
Me: Just a week so far, im gonna be in Asia for a few month though
Them: Ah right, I have been here for (2 months), you have a lot to look forward to
Me: Thats great to hear, where was the best place?
Them: Ah Laos was amazing - *Note Laos wasn't in brackets. Its always Laos. Everybody loves Laos*
Me: Cool I can't wait to visit it. By the way i'm sorry, what was your name again?
Them: (Olga)
Me: Thanks, sorry, I'm Hugh
Them: Haha, no problem. Want to get a beer?
Me: Absolutely
- Exit to nearest Bar -
- Already forget their name, again... -
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Bangkok: Hold On, Let Go
So I am sure you are all sick of hearing about Bangkok by now, hell I have been on an Island for the best part of a week now and believe me there are a wealth of stories to be told from that experience.
Before I leave my first encounter with bangkok behind though, here are the last thoughts that the city left me with.
For me there is a fascinting dichotomy in Bangkok. It is not so much the division between the opulence and the poverty. Dont get me wrong, that is clearly an element of Bangkok life, the gulf between the street markets and the shopping malls is more pronounced than any I have seen before. Bangkok is a developing city though, this disparity is far from unique. The key to my first impression lies elsewhere.
Tension and release.
You can ask a hundred different visitors Bangkok what they felt when they were there and you will likely get a hundred different answers. Whether they were backpackers, holiday makers, business travellers, ex-pats or any one else, they will all have their own experiences and their own feelings, but the one common sensation that stays with you throughout is that of unease.
This may have been especially pronounced when I was in the city as it is currently election time. The sunday I was in town, they placed an alcohol ban across the whole place in prepartion for the days balloting. Khao San road was quiet. You could still get a drink but only in discreet locations removed from the central hubub.
There is no question that despite the international miasma floating around the face of the city, it belongs to Thailand and their people. Tourism is a huge industry but the motorcycles that ride on to the pavements to sell you a lift are just as clearly stating unequivocal ownership of where you walk. This isnt to say you are under threat, there is a balance in place and it seems to serve all parties pretty well but it isn't one that seems likely to tip towards the visitors any time soon.
Despite this it still a city of extreme release. As evidenced before, people come here to let their hair down. The nightlife is riotous, the distractions abundant, the vices innumerable. You are just as capable of witnessing a protest during the day as you are a ping pong show at night. There are many who come to bangkok for a good time and they don't do it by halves.
Uninhibited debauchery is not the only release offered by the city though. You could walk down any bustling road and stand a chance of finding a temple on the corner. Majesty amongst the mayhem.
They come in various sizes and from various perspectives reflecting the myriad of spiritual values held by those who formed them. My first experience of one was on quite a small scale. I was told (and I have no doubt forgotten the finer details of the story so take this with a pimch of salt) that it was built following the start of construction on the grand shopping mall it sits beside. Supposedly construction was started on an unlucky day and sure enough everything started to go wrong. As such construction was halted and the temple was built to appease whomever was responsible for reaping so much misfortune upon them It now stands as a shrine to good luck for all who visit.
Now anyone who knows me will also know I am not a spiritual person. Its just not my bag, I wont go in to it here. Despite this I found the temple to be a remarkable point of tranquility. Nestled between the highway, the skytrain and and a high end shopping mall, once you enter there is calm and there is reflection.
Feeling like a minor fraud I partook in established practice, planting incense and laying flowers around all 4 sides of the shrine, paying my respects to, if nothing else, the first semblence of peace I had found in this place. And hey, if I had ever felt I was getting too lost in the mysticism of it all, i just had to look up and see the logos for Stella McCartney and Alexander McQueen emblazoned on the surrounding walls outside to provide me with a frank wake up.
I visited another temple that day which offered similar quiet and similar wonder. I may have accidentally got married here. I received a monks blessing with friend and I need to look up what it means if he joins your hands together then starts chanting and spraying you with water. I may need a lawyer on this one.
Either way it was a stark contrast to the journey home, wandering through a strange part of town because the taxis wouldn't take us past the site of a protest that had shut down all the traffic in its area. For all the righteous anger held in an event like that, it is no less a part of what characterises Bangkok than the reverential worship that takes place in the ornate temples. It is a system that has risen to serve the needs of city that is still creating itself, despite the ancient history that preceeds it.
The whole thing may seem crazy to us, but then we are only visitors. Bangkok is happy to let you skate on through, observe the delights and take it all in, you just have to remember that the ice is thinner than some people realise. You don't want to fall through.
Before I leave my first encounter with bangkok behind though, here are the last thoughts that the city left me with.
For me there is a fascinting dichotomy in Bangkok. It is not so much the division between the opulence and the poverty. Dont get me wrong, that is clearly an element of Bangkok life, the gulf between the street markets and the shopping malls is more pronounced than any I have seen before. Bangkok is a developing city though, this disparity is far from unique. The key to my first impression lies elsewhere.
Tension and release.
You can ask a hundred different visitors Bangkok what they felt when they were there and you will likely get a hundred different answers. Whether they were backpackers, holiday makers, business travellers, ex-pats or any one else, they will all have their own experiences and their own feelings, but the one common sensation that stays with you throughout is that of unease.
This may have been especially pronounced when I was in the city as it is currently election time. The sunday I was in town, they placed an alcohol ban across the whole place in prepartion for the days balloting. Khao San road was quiet. You could still get a drink but only in discreet locations removed from the central hubub.
There is no question that despite the international miasma floating around the face of the city, it belongs to Thailand and their people. Tourism is a huge industry but the motorcycles that ride on to the pavements to sell you a lift are just as clearly stating unequivocal ownership of where you walk. This isnt to say you are under threat, there is a balance in place and it seems to serve all parties pretty well but it isn't one that seems likely to tip towards the visitors any time soon.
Despite this it still a city of extreme release. As evidenced before, people come here to let their hair down. The nightlife is riotous, the distractions abundant, the vices innumerable. You are just as capable of witnessing a protest during the day as you are a ping pong show at night. There are many who come to bangkok for a good time and they don't do it by halves.
Uninhibited debauchery is not the only release offered by the city though. You could walk down any bustling road and stand a chance of finding a temple on the corner. Majesty amongst the mayhem.
They come in various sizes and from various perspectives reflecting the myriad of spiritual values held by those who formed them. My first experience of one was on quite a small scale. I was told (and I have no doubt forgotten the finer details of the story so take this with a pimch of salt) that it was built following the start of construction on the grand shopping mall it sits beside. Supposedly construction was started on an unlucky day and sure enough everything started to go wrong. As such construction was halted and the temple was built to appease whomever was responsible for reaping so much misfortune upon them It now stands as a shrine to good luck for all who visit.
Now anyone who knows me will also know I am not a spiritual person. Its just not my bag, I wont go in to it here. Despite this I found the temple to be a remarkable point of tranquility. Nestled between the highway, the skytrain and and a high end shopping mall, once you enter there is calm and there is reflection.
Feeling like a minor fraud I partook in established practice, planting incense and laying flowers around all 4 sides of the shrine, paying my respects to, if nothing else, the first semblence of peace I had found in this place. And hey, if I had ever felt I was getting too lost in the mysticism of it all, i just had to look up and see the logos for Stella McCartney and Alexander McQueen emblazoned on the surrounding walls outside to provide me with a frank wake up.
I visited another temple that day which offered similar quiet and similar wonder. I may have accidentally got married here. I received a monks blessing with friend and I need to look up what it means if he joins your hands together then starts chanting and spraying you with water. I may need a lawyer on this one.
Either way it was a stark contrast to the journey home, wandering through a strange part of town because the taxis wouldn't take us past the site of a protest that had shut down all the traffic in its area. For all the righteous anger held in an event like that, it is no less a part of what characterises Bangkok than the reverential worship that takes place in the ornate temples. It is a system that has risen to serve the needs of city that is still creating itself, despite the ancient history that preceeds it.
The whole thing may seem crazy to us, but then we are only visitors. Bangkok is happy to let you skate on through, observe the delights and take it all in, you just have to remember that the ice is thinner than some people realise. You don't want to fall through.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Bangkok: The Night Charlie Got Burgle-Snatched
As I mentioned before, I will not only be using this blog to tell my own story, I will also use it to impart the tales of people I meet along the way. The people you meet make up such a huge part of the experience. You realise quickly that what you see and do is a minute part of what is going on. Everyone has something mad happening to them.
This is one such example.
Charlie was having a bad morning.
We all were, it had been one of those 'night befores' where despite everyone going off in their own directions, the conclusion by dawn was pretty universal. Headaches and hazy tales in abundance. As the dorm reverberated in patchy hangover explanations, one figure on the far right top bunk looked more folorn than most. He just wanted to sleep but that was no longer an option. Eventually forced to accept his lost slumber, he awoke and introduced himself as Charlie.
Charlie was having a bad morning, because Charlie had a bad night.
You see he wasn't meant to still be here. He was meant to be in the air. Flying home. Class started on monday, college was calling. Bangkok had other plans. When he had arrived at the aiport the night before, the flight he had booked himself on to didn't exist. Payment had been taken but the flight appeared to nothing more than a fabrication. As journeys go it wasn't off to a good start.
An hour or so later, still at the airport he came to two realisations that made things even worse. Firstly, in waiting at the airport, he had fallen asleep. Secondly his passport had been stolen.
Clearly distressed by this turn of events he turned to the support force there to put travellers at ease. The Bangkok ariport Tourist Police. He explained his tale of woe to the kindly woman who was serving as the face of the enterprise. She nodded politely, smiled and explained:
" Oh yes, you've been burgle-snatched! "
Charlie had indeed been burgle-snatched. There was no getting around it.
The rest of the force was then brought out to replay the footage of the incident. They watched it over and over and responded as no doubt any law enforcement unit should be expected to. They burst out laughing.
With paperwork in hand to confirm what had happened, Charlie returned to the hostel he had departed from with misty eyes earlier in the evening, ready to settle back in. This was friday night and the embassy didn't open until monday.
What followed was a weekend of clandestine meetings with embassy officials, a modicum of strife but a new found enthusiasm to the make the most of the extended enforcement of his tenure in the city. If Bangkok was keeping him, then the most might as well be made of the experience.
Whilst it was not a circumstance he would have chosen, looking back he gained a wealth of stories for his troubles. Had this not happened he would never have made strange new local Thai aquaintances on the sky train, he would never have found him self lost amongst the frozen stingrays in the weekend fish market and he would have never found himself being sprayed in the face with soda water from the vaginal cavity of a ping pong performer.
It was a strange kind of fortune Charlie had. A mutual friend later remarked that were he to fall down a manhole on the street he would be likely to find a hungry crocodile on one side and the lost city of Atlantis on the other. A curious mixture of stress and discovery.
Later as I drank with him at Sky Bar, taking in the breadth of the city that had provided this unexpected ride he recounted a story of how he had once been rock climbing and found a handhold halfway up the face that unfortunately held a poisionous spider that proceeded to run down his arm. He was clearly still around to tell the tale but I posited that maybe he had actually perished at that moment and what he was going through now was his experience of the afterlife.
He thought about it and decided that he certainly hoped not because for all he been through, for better or worse, it wasn't what he hoped heaven to be.
I think for me, this summed it up as well as could be managed.
Bangkok was many things, but it was not Charlie's heaven.
This is one such example.
Charlie was having a bad morning.
We all were, it had been one of those 'night befores' where despite everyone going off in their own directions, the conclusion by dawn was pretty universal. Headaches and hazy tales in abundance. As the dorm reverberated in patchy hangover explanations, one figure on the far right top bunk looked more folorn than most. He just wanted to sleep but that was no longer an option. Eventually forced to accept his lost slumber, he awoke and introduced himself as Charlie.
Charlie was having a bad morning, because Charlie had a bad night.
You see he wasn't meant to still be here. He was meant to be in the air. Flying home. Class started on monday, college was calling. Bangkok had other plans. When he had arrived at the aiport the night before, the flight he had booked himself on to didn't exist. Payment had been taken but the flight appeared to nothing more than a fabrication. As journeys go it wasn't off to a good start.
An hour or so later, still at the airport he came to two realisations that made things even worse. Firstly, in waiting at the airport, he had fallen asleep. Secondly his passport had been stolen.
Clearly distressed by this turn of events he turned to the support force there to put travellers at ease. The Bangkok ariport Tourist Police. He explained his tale of woe to the kindly woman who was serving as the face of the enterprise. She nodded politely, smiled and explained:
" Oh yes, you've been burgle-snatched! "
Charlie had indeed been burgle-snatched. There was no getting around it.
The rest of the force was then brought out to replay the footage of the incident. They watched it over and over and responded as no doubt any law enforcement unit should be expected to. They burst out laughing.
With paperwork in hand to confirm what had happened, Charlie returned to the hostel he had departed from with misty eyes earlier in the evening, ready to settle back in. This was friday night and the embassy didn't open until monday.
What followed was a weekend of clandestine meetings with embassy officials, a modicum of strife but a new found enthusiasm to the make the most of the extended enforcement of his tenure in the city. If Bangkok was keeping him, then the most might as well be made of the experience.
Whilst it was not a circumstance he would have chosen, looking back he gained a wealth of stories for his troubles. Had this not happened he would never have made strange new local Thai aquaintances on the sky train, he would never have found him self lost amongst the frozen stingrays in the weekend fish market and he would have never found himself being sprayed in the face with soda water from the vaginal cavity of a ping pong performer.
It was a strange kind of fortune Charlie had. A mutual friend later remarked that were he to fall down a manhole on the street he would be likely to find a hungry crocodile on one side and the lost city of Atlantis on the other. A curious mixture of stress and discovery.
Later as I drank with him at Sky Bar, taking in the breadth of the city that had provided this unexpected ride he recounted a story of how he had once been rock climbing and found a handhold halfway up the face that unfortunately held a poisionous spider that proceeded to run down his arm. He was clearly still around to tell the tale but I posited that maybe he had actually perished at that moment and what he was going through now was his experience of the afterlife.
He thought about it and decided that he certainly hoped not because for all he been through, for better or worse, it wasn't what he hoped heaven to be.
I think for me, this summed it up as well as could be managed.
Bangkok was many things, but it was not Charlie's heaven.
Bangkok: The Wonders of the Weekend Market
In Bangkok, they love a market.
Any location, it would seem, is a canvas on to which a fleet of market stands can be painted at any given oppotunity, selling anything from fried bugs to knock off designer brands to a carved wooden fertility phallus.
Given this penchant for commercial enterprise you can only imagine what they come up with when they gather together to put on a real market at the weekend.
Except, you can't really imagine it. You can try but unless you have been there and found yourself enveloped within, it's hard to garner an accurate notion of the experience.
The weekend market in Bangkok is not so much a marketplace as a small town. It is so sprawling as to make the idea of seeing everything, feel beyond the capacity of normal human endeavour, yet at the same time so densely packed with produce and populace that you could stand on any given single spot, turn your body 360 degress and see more variety in sights, sounds and smells than your cognitive functions an easily process.
Its like a pressure formed gem of consumption. You take a collection of food stalls, souvenier stands, flower shops, clothes vendors and other such trading posts then you squash them together as tightly as they will go, giving little regard for spacial awareness, then repeat the process over and over until you have a whole independently function organism. You could cut it open at any given point and the sheer amount of compacted diversity that made up the cross section would be enough to overwhelm the average shopper.
Simply getting from the street in to the complex it self is a struggle. There are market stands outside of the market, lining the road between the station and the destination. Once you have avoided all the various toy robot trinkets and overtly enthusiastic cocounut merhcants, you squeeze yourself through an entry side streets, one of many human blood cells being pumped in to the artery that keeps this beast alive.
Once inside you find yourself on the outer rim, a winding road that runs around the edge of the main market place, something that wouldn't seem out of place in a science fiction film. You see everything from performing school choirs, mumbling blind alms collectors, squid ball stands, kebab stands, ice cream vendors, traditional thai dancers, even the occasional ladyboy.
Once you gather your senses enough to venture inside, you take one of the narrow inlets to the main complex and prepare to have them all blown again. It is overload in every capacity. People moving in confined spaces that seem to defy the laws of physics, the sounds of vendors calling you from all sides, trying to draw attention to their wares, the smells of every conceivable food, flower, perfume, product and indeed waste recepticle bombarding you with little thought for invitation.
At this stage in my journey my bag is too full to take on any greater load and its too early for souveniers. I also think I have a lot of haggling banter to perfect. As such I only purchased one lone wristband to start what I hope will be a booming collection over the course of my journey. I was here to observe as opposed to partake, even though that was a whole experience to itself.
I will return to Bangkok in the coming months, and likely return to the market. Maybe then I can play the part of the all conquering consumer. I would say that is as likely as pigs flying but then if there was anywhere you might expect to see such a sight, it would be here.
Any location, it would seem, is a canvas on to which a fleet of market stands can be painted at any given oppotunity, selling anything from fried bugs to knock off designer brands to a carved wooden fertility phallus.
Given this penchant for commercial enterprise you can only imagine what they come up with when they gather together to put on a real market at the weekend.
Except, you can't really imagine it. You can try but unless you have been there and found yourself enveloped within, it's hard to garner an accurate notion of the experience.
The weekend market in Bangkok is not so much a marketplace as a small town. It is so sprawling as to make the idea of seeing everything, feel beyond the capacity of normal human endeavour, yet at the same time so densely packed with produce and populace that you could stand on any given single spot, turn your body 360 degress and see more variety in sights, sounds and smells than your cognitive functions an easily process.
Its like a pressure formed gem of consumption. You take a collection of food stalls, souvenier stands, flower shops, clothes vendors and other such trading posts then you squash them together as tightly as they will go, giving little regard for spacial awareness, then repeat the process over and over until you have a whole independently function organism. You could cut it open at any given point and the sheer amount of compacted diversity that made up the cross section would be enough to overwhelm the average shopper.
Simply getting from the street in to the complex it self is a struggle. There are market stands outside of the market, lining the road between the station and the destination. Once you have avoided all the various toy robot trinkets and overtly enthusiastic cocounut merhcants, you squeeze yourself through an entry side streets, one of many human blood cells being pumped in to the artery that keeps this beast alive.
Once inside you find yourself on the outer rim, a winding road that runs around the edge of the main market place, something that wouldn't seem out of place in a science fiction film. You see everything from performing school choirs, mumbling blind alms collectors, squid ball stands, kebab stands, ice cream vendors, traditional thai dancers, even the occasional ladyboy.
Once you gather your senses enough to venture inside, you take one of the narrow inlets to the main complex and prepare to have them all blown again. It is overload in every capacity. People moving in confined spaces that seem to defy the laws of physics, the sounds of vendors calling you from all sides, trying to draw attention to their wares, the smells of every conceivable food, flower, perfume, product and indeed waste recepticle bombarding you with little thought for invitation.
At this stage in my journey my bag is too full to take on any greater load and its too early for souveniers. I also think I have a lot of haggling banter to perfect. As such I only purchased one lone wristband to start what I hope will be a booming collection over the course of my journey. I was here to observe as opposed to partake, even though that was a whole experience to itself.
I will return to Bangkok in the coming months, and likely return to the market. Maybe then I can play the part of the all conquering consumer. I would say that is as likely as pigs flying but then if there was anywhere you might expect to see such a sight, it would be here.
Bangkok: Above and Below
As a tropical thunder storm sets in across the island of Koh Chang, I sit in an almost deserted beach shack/bar, awaiting my pancakes with little but time on my hands.
This is a story for another day though, inevitably Thailand seems to give you tales to tell faster than you are able to tell them. Why, it was only a few days ago I was still in Bangkok.
Speaking of which...
My second day in Bangkok was less eventful than the first night. Thankfully. You could fairly argue that I started at a somewhat unsustainable pace and given the length of time I have out here, I felt no sorrow in joining my room mates by spending a day in recovery as opposed to excursion.
The evening came though and it was time to venture beyond the hostels comfotable confines and back out in to the sticky night air. This however would be a night of a different class to the one previous as this was our chance to visit Sky Bar.
This truly was another view of Bangkok, figuratively and literally. Boasting (apparently) the highest open air bar in the world, this is place for tourists to indulge themselves in the opulence of a 5 star hotel bar and look down on the city below. Inevitably the drink prices rise proportionately against the floors you ride up to get to it but you could well argue, Mastercard style, that the combination of cool night breeze, unqieuly delicious cocktail and majestic vistas was kinda priceless.
I ended up, purely out of chance, visiting this location two days in a row. Sure a view is a view, especially a city view. Whether you are looking out over Bangkok, London, New York or any other illuminated metropolis, you seen one dark city lit up by building lights, you seen them all right? Well obviously no, but especially here. Given the palpable character teeming out of seemingly every doorway on every street block, to an almost smothering degree, to seperate yourself from it on such a scale yet still observe it from a gilded distance gives the feeling of being in such an artificial reality that it makes it easy to forget where you really are. Given the looks of a lot of the touists who frequent it, you almost get the impression that this is half the appeal.
Escape doesn't always come so easy though, take two days later for instance.
Having been in Bangkok a couple of days, it was only right that I got my backside round to visiting some temples. Given that the city is awash in them it was not hard to accomplish, so with the delightful and very practically informed company my half Thai travelling companion from the hostel, I set out to achieve this.
I will discuss the experience of the temples in more depth on another post, the story of this occasion came after the fact.
You see we had found ourselves at the Golden Buddha temple by the city's famous Chinatown gates. A glorious temple, not so well connected for public transport links though. Not a problem right? You are in Bangkok, the city runs on the back of its Taxi service, you can barely walk past a shop let alone a block without one stopping past. This is all well and good, assuming the traffic in your part of town hasn't been shut down by a protest. If that happens, you are on your own.
Thus we find ourselves.
Armed with a hostel provided street map that appeared to have been drawn by a jobbing cartoonist looking for a quick paycheque, a map that has also been conveniently torn in to three pieces, we set off on foot.
Given the amount of sweat exuded on this mini urban hike, it felt almost like we swam home. We of course made it entirely unscathed, we even managed to return on the opposite end of the main road the protest was on which was a bonus. That didn't change the fact that I was clearly a long way outside of my comfort zone. This was not the tourists Bangkok we were walking through. Mostly evidenced by the fact that the only western face we passed for a long time was my own reflected in shop windows.
It wasn't a bad area of town, just a different one. It seems there is an entire district dedicated to shops selling only motorcycle parts and ceramic tiles. Not in the same stores but all within the same radius. Block after block of shopfronts stacked floor to ceiling with one or the other. In Bangkok you can buy anything, this was where you bought those.
With a wing, a prayer and a reasonable grasp of the Thai language provided by my friend we walked for what felt like the longest 30 minutes of my life through the streets that supported all the institutions that made palatable Bangkok escpaes such as Sky Bar possible. The sites that make the sights.
It certainly wasn't the days plan, it started off so comfortably in a shiny dim sum restaurant by a high end shopping mall, but it was a fascinating impromptu excursion. You realise very quickly in Bangkok, trying to plan what happens next is so often an excercise in abject futility.
This is a story for another day though, inevitably Thailand seems to give you tales to tell faster than you are able to tell them. Why, it was only a few days ago I was still in Bangkok.
Speaking of which...
My second day in Bangkok was less eventful than the first night. Thankfully. You could fairly argue that I started at a somewhat unsustainable pace and given the length of time I have out here, I felt no sorrow in joining my room mates by spending a day in recovery as opposed to excursion.
The evening came though and it was time to venture beyond the hostels comfotable confines and back out in to the sticky night air. This however would be a night of a different class to the one previous as this was our chance to visit Sky Bar.
This truly was another view of Bangkok, figuratively and literally. Boasting (apparently) the highest open air bar in the world, this is place for tourists to indulge themselves in the opulence of a 5 star hotel bar and look down on the city below. Inevitably the drink prices rise proportionately against the floors you ride up to get to it but you could well argue, Mastercard style, that the combination of cool night breeze, unqieuly delicious cocktail and majestic vistas was kinda priceless.
I ended up, purely out of chance, visiting this location two days in a row. Sure a view is a view, especially a city view. Whether you are looking out over Bangkok, London, New York or any other illuminated metropolis, you seen one dark city lit up by building lights, you seen them all right? Well obviously no, but especially here. Given the palpable character teeming out of seemingly every doorway on every street block, to an almost smothering degree, to seperate yourself from it on such a scale yet still observe it from a gilded distance gives the feeling of being in such an artificial reality that it makes it easy to forget where you really are. Given the looks of a lot of the touists who frequent it, you almost get the impression that this is half the appeal.
Escape doesn't always come so easy though, take two days later for instance.
Having been in Bangkok a couple of days, it was only right that I got my backside round to visiting some temples. Given that the city is awash in them it was not hard to accomplish, so with the delightful and very practically informed company my half Thai travelling companion from the hostel, I set out to achieve this.
I will discuss the experience of the temples in more depth on another post, the story of this occasion came after the fact.
You see we had found ourselves at the Golden Buddha temple by the city's famous Chinatown gates. A glorious temple, not so well connected for public transport links though. Not a problem right? You are in Bangkok, the city runs on the back of its Taxi service, you can barely walk past a shop let alone a block without one stopping past. This is all well and good, assuming the traffic in your part of town hasn't been shut down by a protest. If that happens, you are on your own.
Thus we find ourselves.
Armed with a hostel provided street map that appeared to have been drawn by a jobbing cartoonist looking for a quick paycheque, a map that has also been conveniently torn in to three pieces, we set off on foot.
Given the amount of sweat exuded on this mini urban hike, it felt almost like we swam home. We of course made it entirely unscathed, we even managed to return on the opposite end of the main road the protest was on which was a bonus. That didn't change the fact that I was clearly a long way outside of my comfort zone. This was not the tourists Bangkok we were walking through. Mostly evidenced by the fact that the only western face we passed for a long time was my own reflected in shop windows.
It wasn't a bad area of town, just a different one. It seems there is an entire district dedicated to shops selling only motorcycle parts and ceramic tiles. Not in the same stores but all within the same radius. Block after block of shopfronts stacked floor to ceiling with one or the other. In Bangkok you can buy anything, this was where you bought those.
With a wing, a prayer and a reasonable grasp of the Thai language provided by my friend we walked for what felt like the longest 30 minutes of my life through the streets that supported all the institutions that made palatable Bangkok escpaes such as Sky Bar possible. The sites that make the sights.
It certainly wasn't the days plan, it started off so comfortably in a shiny dim sum restaurant by a high end shopping mall, but it was a fascinating impromptu excursion. You realise very quickly in Bangkok, trying to plan what happens next is so often an excercise in abject futility.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Bangkok Daze
The good thing about time is that it gives you options. When you know you have a while, you can go at your own leisure without needing to cram everything in. Get off the plane, find the roof your head will be residing under for the initial days. Find the bed that will smite the weariness of your travels, relax, unwind and ease yourself in.
As a concept it sounds nice doesn't it? Taking in a long plane ride, a whole other time zone and a foreign city, that is the kind of antidote you are looking for. For better or worse though, life deals in reality and Bangkok, well it has its own ideas on what constitutes reality and they certainly don't pander to sense and reason.
It started soundly enough. Your on your own so you socialise. The first guy I met in my dorm room gave me all his remaining Vietnamese currency because he didnt need it anymore. The travelling spirit in full effect. I dont know what it actually adds up to but the gesture counts for a lot. Canadian hospitality in Thailand eh?
So with my bag secured in my locker and a spark of explorative enthusiasm in my heart, I ventured down to the communal front porch, bought myself a Chang (the local beer) and set out to meet a few people before settling in for an early night.
It was about 1am when someone suggested the Kareoke. As each beer ended up being the one before the last beer of the night, the conversations with all the varying nationalities proved a stronger temptation than was held by designated bunk. As such when the Irishman decreed the need to mark his final night in Thailand before returning to South Korea with a bout of Kareoke, it seemed rude not to join in.
As such I joined Ireland, California, Germany, Denmark and Sheffield in squeezing tetris style in to the back of cab and set off in search of some manner of tuneless musical union. Alas the location suggested by the hostel ammounted to little more than a highway, open sewage and a strangely glitzy club in the middle of what appeared to be an otherwise desolate car park. It was not what as aimed for but we would not be dissauded.
Another taxi was hailed, the destination this time: Khao San Road, the designated hub of festivity for Bangkok where all comers are welcome to try and create their own version of The Hangover 2s blackout. As the taxi bought us there, we in turn bought Kareoke to the taxi. With the aid of a smartphone and Yotube lyric videos, all requests were taken and the driver found himself regailed with tone deaf renditions of 90s pop classics in a variety of accents. It was no doubt his pleasure as much as ours.
After settling in to a pleasant Shisha bar at our given destination, it made all the sense in the world to indulge our makeshift UN union with a round of tequillas. Armed with changloads of confidence and a swelling sense of my ability to conquer all international challenges, this would be the mark to say adventure had begun and from here on in, the only way was up.
That is the only reason I can come up with now as to why I ate the cockroaches.
Sure, you go to bars, you order drinks. Sometimes you get complimentary peanuts. On this occasion I was offered a fried locust. I thought it was being held out to me on a cocktail stick, it was just its leg. When in Rome right? With less than a moments hesitation, I consumed the bug and was suprisingly endeared to the experience. Kinda crunchy with a soy sauce tang. Clearly buoyed by my enthusiasm for this complimentary treat, the bar staff went on to provide me with another plate. This time though, another delicacy entirely.
The cockroaches came in all sizes, babies and grown ups. All fried and surpisingly appetising. The staff themsleves tucked in graciously so I felt happy to join in. To entirely misquote the author Chuck Palahnuik, I wont tell you what a plate of fried baby cockraoches looked like because if I did, you would never eat black olives again.
Despite all this, I do not regret the experience. It was a new, it was different, it was admittedly weird and not demonstrative of the most sober judgement but I came away unscathed and with a new perspective on the endeavours I can undertake.
Ok sure I was sick on my way back to that delayed assignation with my bed but I blame that more on the combination of liquor and the after effects of a long plane ride. Besides it felt right to leave a small mark of my own on Bangkok, because Bangkok had certainly left its mark on me.
That was the first night. More tales to come when I can stop long enough to write them down.
As a concept it sounds nice doesn't it? Taking in a long plane ride, a whole other time zone and a foreign city, that is the kind of antidote you are looking for. For better or worse though, life deals in reality and Bangkok, well it has its own ideas on what constitutes reality and they certainly don't pander to sense and reason.
It started soundly enough. Your on your own so you socialise. The first guy I met in my dorm room gave me all his remaining Vietnamese currency because he didnt need it anymore. The travelling spirit in full effect. I dont know what it actually adds up to but the gesture counts for a lot. Canadian hospitality in Thailand eh?
So with my bag secured in my locker and a spark of explorative enthusiasm in my heart, I ventured down to the communal front porch, bought myself a Chang (the local beer) and set out to meet a few people before settling in for an early night.
It was about 1am when someone suggested the Kareoke. As each beer ended up being the one before the last beer of the night, the conversations with all the varying nationalities proved a stronger temptation than was held by designated bunk. As such when the Irishman decreed the need to mark his final night in Thailand before returning to South Korea with a bout of Kareoke, it seemed rude not to join in.
As such I joined Ireland, California, Germany, Denmark and Sheffield in squeezing tetris style in to the back of cab and set off in search of some manner of tuneless musical union. Alas the location suggested by the hostel ammounted to little more than a highway, open sewage and a strangely glitzy club in the middle of what appeared to be an otherwise desolate car park. It was not what as aimed for but we would not be dissauded.
Another taxi was hailed, the destination this time: Khao San Road, the designated hub of festivity for Bangkok where all comers are welcome to try and create their own version of The Hangover 2s blackout. As the taxi bought us there, we in turn bought Kareoke to the taxi. With the aid of a smartphone and Yotube lyric videos, all requests were taken and the driver found himself regailed with tone deaf renditions of 90s pop classics in a variety of accents. It was no doubt his pleasure as much as ours.
After settling in to a pleasant Shisha bar at our given destination, it made all the sense in the world to indulge our makeshift UN union with a round of tequillas. Armed with changloads of confidence and a swelling sense of my ability to conquer all international challenges, this would be the mark to say adventure had begun and from here on in, the only way was up.
That is the only reason I can come up with now as to why I ate the cockroaches.
Sure, you go to bars, you order drinks. Sometimes you get complimentary peanuts. On this occasion I was offered a fried locust. I thought it was being held out to me on a cocktail stick, it was just its leg. When in Rome right? With less than a moments hesitation, I consumed the bug and was suprisingly endeared to the experience. Kinda crunchy with a soy sauce tang. Clearly buoyed by my enthusiasm for this complimentary treat, the bar staff went on to provide me with another plate. This time though, another delicacy entirely.
The cockroaches came in all sizes, babies and grown ups. All fried and surpisingly appetising. The staff themsleves tucked in graciously so I felt happy to join in. To entirely misquote the author Chuck Palahnuik, I wont tell you what a plate of fried baby cockraoches looked like because if I did, you would never eat black olives again.
Despite all this, I do not regret the experience. It was a new, it was different, it was admittedly weird and not demonstrative of the most sober judgement but I came away unscathed and with a new perspective on the endeavours I can undertake.
Ok sure I was sick on my way back to that delayed assignation with my bed but I blame that more on the combination of liquor and the after effects of a long plane ride. Besides it felt right to leave a small mark of my own on Bangkok, because Bangkok had certainly left its mark on me.
That was the first night. More tales to come when I can stop long enough to write them down.
Welcome, come on board (or come on excited), either way we are off...
So it took me a few days but its finally here, the New Hughs Views!
You may notice certain smilarities to the old Hughs Views. The reason for that being that it IS the old Hughs Views, just with a new background. So what, Im lazy, get over it.
The main difference is in the views that I am viewing. You see now I am not viewing movies, I am instead viewing the world. Between now and an unspecified point roughly 2 years down the line I will be visiting South East Asia, Australia, Fiji, New Zealand, South America and (eventually) North America.
A lot to see, a lot to say. Along the way I will aim to share with you the story of my odyssey as it unfolds as well as the stories of people I meet along the way. Some tales need to be told and its all part of the greater whole.
What follows is how my journey has begun...
You may notice certain smilarities to the old Hughs Views. The reason for that being that it IS the old Hughs Views, just with a new background. So what, Im lazy, get over it.
The main difference is in the views that I am viewing. You see now I am not viewing movies, I am instead viewing the world. Between now and an unspecified point roughly 2 years down the line I will be visiting South East Asia, Australia, Fiji, New Zealand, South America and (eventually) North America.
A lot to see, a lot to say. Along the way I will aim to share with you the story of my odyssey as it unfolds as well as the stories of people I meet along the way. Some tales need to be told and its all part of the greater whole.
What follows is how my journey has begun...
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