Day 19: So This is why I don’t do tour groups

March 26, 2008 at 12:26 pm (travelling is work)

February 16

The next day of Bangkok sightseeing was actually outside of Bangkok; we did an organized tour of the Royal Family’s Summer Palace and the ruins of Ayutthaya, both about an hour out of the city. 

The Summer Palace, now seldom used by the Royal Family, is a hodgepodge of traditional Thai and 19th century French.  Ramas IV and V were very enamored of European culture (in fact, most of the kings since have spent large chunks of their youth in Europe or the US) and rebuilt most of the grounds like a European palace.  The exception is the Chinese Palace, which was built by the Chinese emperor as a gift to the Thai king.  My favorite part: the Chinese Palace, like most Thai buildings, has a shrine outside built to look similar to the main buildings.  So I snapped some shots of it.  It was only days later that I realized that, when I zoomed way, way in, the shrine was inhabited by Precious Moments dolls.  Awesome. 

We then headed to Ayutthaya which was the capital of Thailand before it was sacked by the Burmese in the 18th century.  The Burmese did a pretty good job of it, too, but there are some interesting ruins all over the town.  We turned onto one street and saw a 30 foot chedi (Buddhist burial monument) seemingly in someone’s yard. 

As I mentioned, we did this through an organized tour.  So we were up by 6 to meet the bus and were schlepped around in a group of about 25.  It was amazing how Maura and I instantly became soooo lazy.  It was if we had instantly reverted to our junior high selves.  We were hot, we were tired, we couldn’t understand the guide, he talked too much.  We could barely keep ourselves upright and moving forward.  It wasn’t any hotter than the day before when we happily raced through the streets of Bangkok, but something was definitely different.  Mob mentality.  Another reason not to do organized tours.

However, one reason to do organized tours is this: after touring the ruins, we drove to the river and had lunch on our river cruise back to Bangkok.  It was a lovely way to spend the afternoon.  We also got to see a slice of Thai river life, as many Thais build their houses along the river, much like the floating villages in Vietnam.  I can only imagine how it goes in those houses during the rainy season. 

Note about flooding.

We were in Thailand during the cool, dry season, so there wasn’t much rain to speak of.  One our last afternoon in Bangkok, however, the skies opened up and released their furies for about 15 minutes.  It lightened up soon after and then gently rained for maybe another 15 minutes.  Of course, during the downpour was exactly the moment we wanted to go to eat, typs, which was a 15 minute walk from the hotel.  Since we didn’t want to get drenched, we took a cab.  Though since the streets in Bangkok are so wacky and disconnected, we had to go about a mile out of the way and, since the traffic was so bad, it still took 15 minutes.  Point of all this is: even after such a brief rain, there was at least 3 to 6 inches of standing water on the street.  Traffic came to a near standstill.  So I wonder, what happens during the rainy season?  The city must shut down!

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Day 17: Bangkok Blitz!

March 25, 2008 at 4:01 pm (Beautiful! Beautiful! Wish You Were Here, travelling is work)

We were so busy, busy in Bangkok that I didn’t have time to do daily entries.  So the following is organized by day and theme.  We’ll see how it goes.

February 14

dsc_0400.jpgOn the first day we visited Wat Arun. 

 An aside about public transportation.

To get to the Wat we took the one skytrain line to another, waited twenty minutes for the express boat and then switched from that to the cross river ferry.  It’s about 6-7 km (maybe 4 miles) as the crow flies, but it took us over an hour to get there.  And, mind you, this is the fasted way to get there and the Wat, like our hotel, is in the central part of Bangkok.  Unforch, Bangkok just has bad public transportation and abysmal traffic To be fair, the public transportation is really quite nice – very beautifully air conditioned (do you here my words, MTA?) and very fast.  It just doesn’t go anywhere.  There is an elevated skytrain with two lines and maybe 20 stops.  It was supposed to go all the way to the airport – they built the pillars all the way out there – but the funding dried up and now its just a skeleton of an El (2nd Avenue subway, anyone?).  Then there is an equally nice subway, also with two lines totaling about 30 stops.  And, of course, if you want to switch from the skytrain to the subway, you have to buy a whole new ticket. 

 

And, for some reason, neither the subway nor the skytrain go anywhere near the tourist sites along the river.  Hence the express boats.  These run every twenty minutes or so (heavy on the “or so”) up the east coast of the river, stopping about every ½ mile.  To get to the other side of the river, you then have to take a cross river ferry.  Hence the train to the train to the boat to the boat to get to Wat Arun.  Now, that whole trip only costs 63 baht, about $2.10, so it is very economical waste of time.   

dsc_0406.jpgdsc_0412.jpgWat Arun is one of the older wats in Bangkok; it pre-dates Bangkok’s ascension to capitalshiphood.  Its main features are its beautiful five-prangs, with each prang looking slightly like a corncob (and is therefore, obviously, a Burmese style wat).  dsc_0423.jpgThe prangs are wonderfully decorated with broken pieces of Chinese pottery, many in the shape of flowers.  It is a steep climb us the stairs of the main prang – definitely not Nannie-friendly steps.  Going down, there was a Chinese woman in front of me who I was not certain was going to make it down.  I am pretty sure I heard a lot of tasty Chinese curse words.

dsc_0439.jpgdsc_0438.jpgOne wat down, dozens to go.  Next was Wat Po across the river.  The wat is a sprawling complex of bots (religious halls), buddhas, and schools (including the Thai massage school).  It is probably best known for being home to the monu- (wait for it) (wait some more cause it’s really big) -mental Reclining Buddha.  You basically cannot take a picture of the whole guy because the building around pretty much fits the Buddha and a narrow path for tourists to shuffle around.  I am quite proud, however, of my Buddha toe picture. 

dsc_0450.jpgWe then wandered around the complex.  The tourist to square foot ratio fell significantly once we took twenty steps away from the Reclining Buddha.  We, unfortunately, had chosen the hottest part of the day to wander the dusty walks, so we were tired, hungry, and ever so slightly whiny when we reached the Wat Po Thai Massage school, which trains most of the non-naughty Thai masseuses in Bangkok.  We weren’t feeling very massage-y, but the guidebook told us we should do it, dsc_0453.jpgso damn it, we signed up for thirty minute massages. 

When it was our turn, we were brought to the back area where two trailers sat.  Each trailer had about six beds right next to each other, such that sometimes you and your neighbor would touch, or such that I inadvertently touched my hairy neighbor way more than I wanted.  Awkward.

 Aside about Thai Massages.

Umm, they kind of hurt.  We heard many times that Thai massage is like have yoga done to you.  The masseuse is all over the place, bending you, pressing on muscles and joints, pulling on limbs.  At one point, my lady was sitting in between my feet, with a foot on either side of my thigh while pulling on my leg with both hands.  At least that is what I think was happening.  At another point, I was seated Indian style with my hands clasped behind my head as she squatted behind me with her knees around my back; she was swinging me back and forth over her legs stretching out my back.  So that was strange.  And the pressure points she worked with her hands, her elbows, her feet, her fingers of steel, or any other available body parts were . . . well, it was kind of like this: Hmm, that feels niii . . . ow . . . OW . . . oooOOOW . . . ow.  Hmm, that felt kind of nice.  So it is not a necessarily relaxing experience, but at the end, you are totally relaxed and feel great.  And I didn’t get that next day tension that sometimes develops after a mediocre massage.  Definitely a good experience.  Especially for $7. 

After out Thai massages, we decided it was (past) time for lunch. Neither of our guidebooks had good places to eat in the touristy area, but said that the nearby National Museum had a good cafeteria.  So we skipped the Grand Palace complex, right next to Wat Po, and went instead to the Museum and took a peek around after a snack.  Unfortunately, that left us with no time to do the Grand Palace that day, but gave us something to look forward to for the next day. 

The National Art Museum was very much like a social studies lessons.  The first group of rooms led us through the history of Thailand with little miniature diorama-type things, with little Thai soldiers fighting little plastic battles.  We were quite interested in the succession of the Thai kings since Bangkok was founded in the late 18th century.  All the kings, in additional to having ridiculously long given names, were called Rama upon their ascension to the throne.  Rama IV was the king in The King and I and the future Rama V was one of the pupils (though Thais are allegedly insulted by the way the book describes their kings as a bit of a fop).  After a series of not very long reigns, the current king, the much beloved Rama IX has been king for over sixty years and is current longest reigning monarch in the world. 

 Aside about the king.

dsc_0605.jpgPeople here love the king.  Love the king.  His picture is everywhere.  Calendars, street-wide banners, bill boards.  But he is getting up in years and I have a sneaking suspicion that the role of king is currently being played by Victor Garber, who is the spitting image of Rama IX.  This is much like my theory that Leslie Nielson was portraying Pope JP II for those last couple of years, at least for those Sunday blessings from the balcony.

Sadly the king’s older sister died recently.  We first notice in Bangkok because parts of the Grand Palace were closed for the lying in state.  All of a sudden we noticed her picture, framed in black cloth everywhere!  How it took us almost a week to notice is beyond me.  (Oh, right, we spent the first 4+ days blissed out on the beach).

So we figured that she had died in the last week or so.  Oh no, she died on January 1st.  Because she was much loved by king and people (in large part thanks to her efforts in developing poverty-stricken rural areas), the king declared a 100-day mourning period.  Now that’s sitting sivah.

The main building of the art museum also contained lots of interesting Thai art and artifacts from past centuries, typical stuff like pots, plates, weapons, elephant chairs, ya know.  Our favorites were probably the wooden carved and gilded palanquins (= carried thrones – new word!) that were carried in processions.  One such throne had to be carried by 50-60 men.  Not a lot of room for personal space there.  There was debate among the two of us as to whether the intricately carved elephant tusks in one gallery were amazing works of art (me) or gross (Maura).  One such tusk had latticework and pillars surrounding the outside with raised motifs on the inside of that carving.  It was really amazing.

After that, because we were so pooped, we decided to take a cab or tuk tuk home.  I mean, could it really take longer than public transportation?  (Answer: yes.)  The first 15 minutes were quite pleasant.  The next 60 were less so.  So, yes, traffic is just as bad in Bangkok as you read about.

 Aside about tuk tuks.

Tuk tuks are like those wee vans they drive around in Europe, but open in the back with a seat for tourists (and locals).  They are noisy, smelly, and awfully uncomfortable when it’s hot.  But awfully convenient in a pinch and (by American standards) dirt cheap.  Our hour + tuk tuk ride cost about 6 dollars.  [In fact, I was in Maura’s apartment on the UWS the day I got back and, coming back to the UES, I was really missing the whole tuk tuk thing.]

One thing about tuk tuk drivers is that they will try to take you to their cousin’s friend’s mom’s shop “on the way” to wherever you are going.  Our guy kept asking us something about gas, kept handing us a card that said something about free Esso gas.  I did what I always do when someone is speaking to me in a foreign language and I have no idea what they are saying – smile and look non-committal.  So with this guy, we thought maybe he needed gas.  But that didn’t seem to be it.  We then figured that he was trying to get us to make a stop so we could get “free” gas?  Why would we want gas?  I’m pretty sure they don’t allow that in your carry-on bag.  So after just smiling and nervously laughing for the first few minutes, and after we decided he was trying to get us to stop somewhere, we just started saying no, No, NO.  Needless to say, he was much less friendly at the end of our journey than at the beginning. 

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Day 11: Travel Day!!

February 19, 2008 at 12:59 pm (travelling is work)

February 8

This was a boring travel day and a result of poor planning on my part.  We left Hoi An at 6:20, had a 3 hour layover in Hanoi, almost were late checking in to our flight in Bangkok, and spent the night in Phuket because the last boat to our island left before we arrived.  But such lost days are often necessary.  And even though we were just sitting in the Hanoi airport, we still managed to freeze our hineys off.  The airport was almost as cold as our hotel in Sapa, but this time we had no blankets to cover up with and cuddling might have been inappropriate in so public a place.  So we did the old stand by, which was drink a cup of weak ass Lipton Tea.  I swear I have never had more tea in a 10 day period in my life.  Sometimes it was the only thing separating me from becoming an icicle.

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Day 4: Where French people can’t stop commenting on our eating habits and we freeze near through

February 11, 2008 at 3:06 pm (travelling is work)

Feburay 1

Day 4 in Hanoi was one of those travel days it is best not to remember in great detail. Mostly because it was so cold that we were quite miserable. According to what Maura later overheard, it was the coldest day in Hanoi in 10 years (around 40). [As Caroline later told me, that kind of cold, where there is no insulation and no heat anywhere of course has a word in German: Nasskalt. Sounds about right. We just hadn't packed for unprecedented cold! We had already given up our room since we were catching the overnight train to Sapa, so we couldn't retreat there. And we had seen most of the sites that didn't involve more walking than we were willing to do. So all we could do was trudge (trudge this time) around looking for ways to keep warm -- no easy feat in a country with no indoor heating where everyone still keeps all the windows open.

Ho Chi Minh museum, Hanoi 2.jpgEnough whining! As to what we actually did:The Ho Chi Minh Museum, which celebrates the life, times, and moral rectitude of Uncle Ho, is a example of a GREAT BIG MUSEUM with very leeetle stuff inside. [Not my picture, as evidenced by the lovely weather.] Photocopies of pictures of Uncle Ho “at the front.” Uncle Ho with children. With peasants. With soldiers. Copies of letters written in Vietnamese/French/Russian about/to/from Uncle Ho/communism/the Vietnam issue, without any translations or descriptions. They were at the same time spreading it thin and laying it on thick. We were actually hoping to learn a lot because, you know, big guy in history, but all we could piece together is that he had parents who did something, he was arrested for “something” in Hong Kong and that he died of “something in 1969. I guess we will have to look him up on Wikipedia when we get back. I know, i know; it’s a sad state of affairs.

dsc_0075.jpgWe then walked past Uncle Ho’s mausoleum, which was clearly built in a spate of national aggrandizement. V. v. large and officious. Interestingly, Uncle Ho wanted to be cremated and scattered about, because he valued to importance of land. Instead, the PTB went the other way: there is a huge park with the museum and the mausoleum right next to the Presidential Palace whose cottage Uncle Ho lived in the 50’s. dsc_0083.jpgdsc_0082.jpgThe Palace is the great honking piece of French colonialism in the mustard yellow they so clearly favored to show their dominance over the Vietnamese. Ho lived for a while in the adjoining cottage before moving into the two room house on stilts right next to the cottage. Allegedly. We overheard a tour guide saying that he never really lived there because it was too much of a target for US bombs, so he lived in an underground bunker nearby. Of course, you can never trust what you hear from either tour guides or nationalist myths.

We also saw a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show, which was great, and not just because it was 15 degrees warmer inside. The stage was made of entirely of a pool of water in front of a pagoda backdrop. The puppeteers were standing behind the screens hanging from the pagodas, also knee deep in water. They now wear waders to avoid all the water-borne stuff. Icky. But the show was delightful, with little vignettes acting out Vietnamese folklore. Of course, we only knew the one story (sword, turtle, warrior king), but we liked it all the same.

We then went to a nearby French restaurant for dinner. Now, our day had started off at the Paris Cafe next to our hotel, which had delicious egg dishes and croissants. Then an older French couple sat down next to us and clearly took an abnormal interest in us. He did at least. She just sat there with a puss on her face. First, the man said to us, in deceivingly friendly tones, ” Oh, I see you miss the United States.” Huh? “You are having eggs for breakfast.” At first I was all embarrassed for my cultural obtuseness. Until I realised that they were breakfasting on croissant and cafe au laits. Pot, kettle, noir. Of course, I realized this too late to make a similarly snide comment. Later, he castigated us for not eating out “lovely sausage”, which tasted not so lovely. Hey, buddy, you can have it if you want.

So at dinner, we had another obnoxious French guy making fun of us, this time the owner of the restaurant. We had ordered a set meal because it had onion soup and we were freezing. It also came with something called “chicken supreme,” which I didn’t want even before I saw it. Then it came and tasted like a recipe that said, “Now open up a can of mushroom soup.” So I barely touched it. Out Vietnamese waitress inquired after why I had eaten so little of it and I replied that I had filled up on soup. Well, something clearly got lost in translation. Because the French dude came over and said, again in those condescending French tones, “I hear that you were confused that chicken supreme was a soup. Well, we would never serve two soups with one meal because then there would be no surprise.” He then proceeded to lecture us for a good five minutes about soup versus non-soup, insinuating all along our vast cultural inferiority for our lack of soup savvy. He also came over to discuss how much of our creps we had eaten, vis a vis our chicken intake. The only reason we stayed (and stayed and stayed) was because we were sitting next to a space heater. Which made us almost not freezing. Almost.

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Day 0-1: The Flight, or Thank God for Insomnia

February 10, 2008 at 12:55 pm (adventures in sleeping, travelling is work)

 January 28-29

My impressions of the 24+ hour odyssey from my UES apartment to out Hanoi hotel are these:

  • It is really annoying to have to take stuff out of your suitcase at the last minute.  Especially, if it means you may not be able to dry your hair for a month.  Jen, you will also be glad to hear that the filtering water bottle did not make the cut.  I was just too big!
  • The subway stop at Stuphin Blvd. in Queens is eerily quiet at 9:15 on a Monday morning, as is the international terminal at JFK.  Bad omen? Maybe considering all i heard at the subway stop was a woman talking about the end of the world. 
  • Thai stewardesses have nice outfits, but are they comfortable after 17 hours?
  • It is possible to look worse before you start a 17 hour flight than afterit.  [Sorry, the picture is just too embarrassing to post]. 
  • No Reservations is a really, really, really bad movie, even when it’s free on a 17 hour flight.  I really just wanted to see Catherine Z-J and Aaron Eckhart make cute, but instead I got to see Abigail Breslin cry for two hours.  Less fun.
  • 3:10 to Yuma, on the other hand is a excellent movie and you should all run to see it.  Christian Bale has never been nominated for an Oscar, but Renee Zellweger has twice (and won one).  Crime against humanity?
  • If you have a bad childhood and want to punish your bourgeois parents, don’t do it by wandering into the Alaskan wilderness, eating poisoned plants, and dying slowly, painfully and alone.  Do something productive, like become a transexual or build a dam in Guatemala. 
  • As evidenced by the 3 above bullets, it is possible to watch 3 movies on a flight.
  • World 6-1 of Super Mario Brothers is frakkin’ hard.  That ^&*# smiley, armored-turtle-shooting cloud is the devil. 
  • Insomnia can be your friend.  I slept for 4 hours on the flight and was able to push through all the way to Hanoi.  It’s much easier to do when you don’t sleep naturally.  So hoorah for sleep dysfunctions.  [Though by the time we got to Hanoi, I was having hallucinations.  No wait, that was just the traffic.]

Sorry for the no pictures, but what do you want?  I picture inside Thai airlines?  Me in all my blanched, groggy glory?  Wait until the touring begins. 

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