Thailand 21/06/06 - 24/06/06

Day 1:

My plane arrived in Bangkok at about 2:30pm. The airport in Bangkok was rather plain and reminded me somewhat of the airport in Hawaii. The weather was humid, although the atmosphere was not as “heavy” as central Hong Kong, so that was a relief.

I approached the service counter to ask for directions as to how to get to Pattaya. I was surprised that told there were no direct shuttle buses and that I would have to connect two loads of buses. I was hoping that they would have direct transport to my hotel (eventually and rather painfully found out) in Chonburi.

I was then directed to catch the airport bus to downtown, then change for another bus to Pattaya. Downtown, of course meant various stops – the assistant rattled off some bizarre name to the driver who expected me to know where I was supposed to be getting off. I had no idea. There was another equally confused looking passenger whose destination sounded like what the attendant said about my stop – so I figured I would get off where he got off. That way we would both be in strife if we got lost, and could chase each other until one of us finally got our bearings and knew where we going and help the other out.

Once downtown, the driver started speaking gibberish, so I watched the other passenger carefully. At a place which the driver pronounced “Su-uki”, the other passenger lurched off; I took off with my bags immediately following him. As soon as we hit the street, I lost him in the crowds of people and dense traffic. The interesting thing to note about Bangkok is that traffic is horrific. Traffic lights are largely ignored and the roads are so poorly designed that what is meant to be a road allowing for two-way traffic, is an oncoming tirade of one-way traffic trying to outrace each other to beat an otherwise pointless traffic light.

To put the traffic into perspective, it helps to imagine that there is a necessity to impose traffic cops at every light and intersection. To help gauge this, lights and intersections are about one every 10 – 20 metres. This means that there are enough policemen on the street in such close proximity to each other to make one believe that the King of Thailand is actually nearby. Pedestrian crossings are rendered useless, and you are expected to race in between and against oncoming traffic to get where you need to. It seems that the concept of “giving way” either doesn’t register in the heads of Thai drivers or that it was never incorporated into motor school techniques. I remember running with my 20kg luggage across a road of monster traffic which would shame the best of Shum Shui Po and Mongkok drivers combined, to get to the skytrain at a particular place downtown.

Still trying to find my way around downtown and wondering if I would ever get to my resort at all, I wander into a photographic development store operated by a very nice woman who I happened to disturb digging into her bamboo wrapped prawn-like sticks and other rather authentic and least to say “unusual” Thai cuisine that I could not recognize from the “gwailo” menus I am used to dining. I would have tried some of the meal she was eating, if my appetite was not abated by the frustration of wondering if I would have to sleep that night somewhere but my registered hotel in Pattaya – some 3 hours drive from central Bangkok. She seemed shocked to see an overweight young Chinese man, sweating all over her shop and pleading for directions, but she was eager to play the Samaritan anyway. So she directed me (in rather broken English) to find a skytrain at a station she wrote as “Asoke”. Then I would supposedly have to change at another station “Akemai” to catch a connecting bus. Mind you this explanation was all done in a flurry of spiraling arrows and fancy Thai writing, so naturally I was on the verge of despair and giving up all together and asking if I could spend the night on the floor of her shop.

Thanking her for the directions, I head out to look for the skytrain. I am told it is on the same side as the shop, although when I asked how far, she sort of gauged the distance with multiple jabbings of her fingers shaped like an arrow in the direction up the street. Thankfully, Thailand, for whatever reasons has its fair share of expatriates and a large European presence. I just so happened to run into a lady with her child to see if they knew where the skytrain was – “just up ahead, about two hundred metres, you wont miss it.” The first wholly constructed sentence in English – it was bliss.

Skytrains in Bangkok are quite interesting. Sort of like the monorail in Sydney, but much larger, in a train capacity about 100 meters off ground level. It’s interesting to see the view from the platform of the station, because you can literally see the traffic of cars below the platform – sort of like a floating space train station – really quite cool.

Reaching the skytrain station (spelt correctly Asok), I needed to buy a ticket to the connecting station (spelt Ekamai). The train system is quite simple in Thailand, a few rail lines distinguished by region or area codes. Price of a ticket is then calculated depending on which region you are heading to. In this structure, it is a bit like the network in Tokyo, except much, much less complicated to look at.

The Skytrain was packed - all the high school students having finished classes – although the ride was comfortable, and it was only 2 stops to Ekemai from Asok. Exiting the train and onto the platform however, there is no street signs in English to tell you where you are going. So all I see are swirly writings in Thai and I’m supposed to know where I’m going. I was ecstatic. The guy at the counter window was equally helpful, gesturing wildly with hand signs only at the mention of “Pattaya” and in no particular direction. So I head down to street level and am greeted by the onslaught of traffic (see “traffic” above). Having walked in circles with no sign of buses to Pattaya, I spot a traffic cop and ask him if he can help with directions. He turns around, a tall and burly sort of guy, and is wearing one of the weirdest face masks I have ever seen. It looks and fits like a regular surgical mask (also like the ones made famous in Hong Kong during SARS), but protruding from where the nasal cavities should be were two little knob-like switches which resemble a miniature version of those air-vents on WWII gas masks. Fascinated by this design, I temporarily forget that I am trying to cover my own mouth to prevent inhalation of all the pollution and I breathe in enough exhaust smoke to match the equivalent of Hong Kong’s bad air 5 times over.

Heading in the direction of the traffic cop’s instructions, I find a poorly constructed make- shift looking parking lot with 2 buses in it. Hanging around these buses were a group of males, looking rather shady with dragons tattooed on their arms and chain smoking. Spotting the ever stupid tourist, they ask me where I’m going, and as soon as I mention Pattaya, they attempt to usher me on board. I had my initial objections – delaying them enough with “umm…..give me one moment, need to make a phone call” to decide whether they were actually going to take me to Pattaya or some hellish joyride to nowhere and swindle me of my Thai baht. Now I have been called as being overly suspicious, but I hold firm to my claim that I was justified in this instance. When you are in a foreign country, and approached by a group of shady dudes trying to push you onto an empty coach bus, with no signs indicating where it is headed – it is natural you have some doubts. So I head over to the pay phone and pretend to make some phoney calls to ease the suspicion. Having finally decided that it was not worth sleeping in the street, since having already paid for the hotel, I decide to gamble with the bus guys. They eye me warily as I saunter back and board the bus, some words in Thai were exchanged behind my back, for which I’m sure were aimed at me.

The bus took off and I was embarrassed to know that it was a popular bus that many people took, having eventually exceeded its capacity along the way to its stop in Pattaya. The guys operating the bus also turned out to be some of the funniest and most enjoyable crew to watch work, for which I learned a lesson that is always said but very rarely practiced – not to judge people only by their looks. As the crew was fairly young, I imagine the ages ranged from 19 – 28 they didn’t work the conservative way coach operators would. It also turned out they were into Thai rock music, but that’s a different story. The structure of the crew was like this:

1 driver
1 payment collector
2 ushers/ greeters

It is interesting to mention the role of the ushers/greeters. These guys would be separately positioned at the front and end of the bus (where there was also a door) and at every stop would hang out the half-open door precariously against oncoming traffic and yell to potential waiting passengers where the bus was going (this made sense why there wasn’t a sign on the bus to indicate its destination). Because traffic never stops, the ushers and passengers had very little time to board the bus and often had to run and catch up with the bus as it was taking off (never really having stopped in the first place, just drifting at a reduced speed alongside potential passengers). Sitting in the front seat and watching all this unfold I thought it was one of the most dangerous professions in the working world. Also fun to watch was the ushers utilizing their flirting skills to try and pick up girls whilst doing their job – good if she boarded the bus, if she stayed further than her stop even better. Mind you, this was made all the more fun because of the age of these guys and all of them speaking in Thai with rock music blaring throughout the cabin. You just don’t get that atmosphere anywhere else.

The bus flew and disregarded any speed limits imposed on it to get its passengers where they needed to be. Although the total ride took me about 3 hours, I'm sure it would have been longer if it wasn’t for the joyride speeding of the bus driver and his crew. The guy who initially intimidated me with his shoulder-to-waist triad tattoo turned out to be the nicest of them all. Not quite at Pattaya he motioned it was my stop and indicated where to go next. However, there is some limit as to ones understanding of finger pointing. So I get off at a junction which had a sort of had a beach feel to it (it was 9pm at night however, so I couldn’t scope out the area to see if it looked like where my hotel might be located) and figure I walk into the nearby 7-11 and ask for directions to the hotel. This provoked no reaction from the girl on duty, so I thought “maybe I should buy something, and she might be willing to help me in exchange.” A bit like those nasty newsagents who don’t do passerby’s any favours unless they buy something, and if they buy something insignificant like gum, they get even worse treatment. I pay for a Coke in those old antique 1960/ 70’s glass bottle. Still no reaction. I think maybe she was so into her work, when something different came up, it genuinely boggled her.

Waiting for me to finish was a gentleman who wore what looked like a taxi uniform. He looked at me talking with the girl and the piece of paper with directions I was holding, and proceeded to come and help. Turned out he was an off duty taxi driver who also had a brother in the business who just so happened to be working the night shift. By that time I just wanted to get to the hotel and relax. Wandering and being lost had begun to take its toll. He was kind enough to call his brother and give me an express ride to the hotel in his cab.

It is interesting to note the cabs in Thailand and their drivers. Cabs are more like trucks or Utes, with metal railings holding up a scaffold roof. The back is open and is where passengers alight and generally can seat about 6 passengers. Drivers all wear the faded out taxi-like shirt but never the matching pants. Always ripped or faded jeans with sneakers. I guess the jeans must be the other part of the uniform. In any case, we jumped in the back of the cab, and he proceeded to ask me about my stay in Thailand. It’s standard to improve business that they try to sell you tours and “services”. Services, as one can imagine, are the provision of call girls to make one, I quote him saying, “a happy man”.

After I fabricated some story about how I already had some mates and our lady friends waiting for me at the hotel, he eased up with the call girls and proceeded to bombard me with other tours like getting an elephant massage (which, from a friend’s experience) is literally having a full grown elephant stomp on your spine. I didn’t feel like going to get physiotherapy when I got back to Hong Kong, so I kindly declined that and also the rabid monkey feeding session that he proposed. He left me his contact number and pleaded me to call him should I decide to change my mind. The only thing on my mind at that time was having a hot bath and a drink, let alone feeding rabid monkeys. But the taxi brothers were a lifesaver, and were it not for them, I probably would’ve run around for another 2 hours before winding up at the hotel.

The hotel was amazing. It simply resonated “luxury”. I spent the rest of the night settling in, ordered some exquisite food courtesy of room service and fell asleep.

Day 2:

I woke up early in the morning to grab breakfast and check out the beach just outside of the hotel. The hotel, along with its neighboring resorts is conveniently located right at the feet of a bay called Silver Beach. Between the sand of the beach and the resort is in the middle a sort of gateway which housed the resort pool and spa house. It was very cool to sort of pass this oasis en-route to the beach.

The beach itself, however, was a bit disappointing. From afar, it looks quite beautiful, but closer inspection showed it to be quite a dirty beach. Embedded in the sand was empty beer bottles, and signs of rubbish could be seen littered throughout – a result of the heavy commercialization of the area. Dogs were also allowed to roam freely on the beach – so naturally, too were the fruits of their territory markings, both of the liquid and solid sort. The details I’d rather skip. Thankfully, it was still early in the day with little people around except the horde of middle-aged Korean tourists heading out to get their dose of wakeboarding, dressed as if they were going to Fort Lauderdale, Florida for early retirement.

Interesting to see was a few locals who scattered around the shoreline digging at sand or picking shells on rocks. Apparently, the collection of shells is a big thing, although for what purpose – commercial or personal – I’m still not too sure. A lone chicken was pecking away at something unrecognizable near the outer wall of one of the neighboring resorts. For some reason at the time it didn’t strike me as strange for a chicken to be on the beach. The thought of bird flu suddenly crossed my mind and I left the chicken pecking at what could’ve been the processed aftermath of its previous night’s dinner.

Heading back to the hotel along the beach, were some games and activities that a few guys had organized for an entourage of girls. I thought it must have been a contest for the running of Miss Thailand, because there must have been around 60 girls to the 4 guys, who looked and dressed like the organizers, with their little tags and microphones. There was a lot of laughing and playful screaming as these scores of young women participated in these beach contests - enough to entice a group of suspicious looking aging European men come out from their beachside bungalow to see what all the excitement was about. Seeing the group of old men was enough for me to leave the scene and head back to the hotel. Nothing personal, it’s just unnerving to see a group of aging single men, goggle-eyed at women less than a third of their age with twisted grins on their faces. You never know what’s going on in their heads. For all I know, its good intention, but hey that’s just me.

I had wanted to check out the resort pool, so in the afternoon got the chance to go and grab a dip. The pool was great, with only a few other hotel guests, one of which was a gorgeous young woman of European/ Mediterranean appearance who had a face and figure to match that would give every man on earth enough nosebleeds to require multiple blood transfusions. Part of this was due to the swimming piece she was wearing, but I won’t go into details here. Rather disturbingly though, was the middle aged, pot-bellied Korean men who were plainly gawking at her and getting me in trouble because I was trying to peep discreetly.

Late afternoon I got the chance to go out and explore the surrounding area a bit more, although to head into town was a bit difficult as the hotel was somewhat removed from the city centre, and without a car would be nightmarish to try and navigate directions back. The backstreets surrounding the resort was, in its entirety, very basic and village-like. A one-way street with a barber shop, massage parlour and a straw-hut Korean restaurant sat across the street, while the upper end of the street junction saw a rusty sign promoting “Red Ant” restaurant (figuring it was Thailand, and that the conceptual notion of normal included spine-stomping massages by elephants, I had suspicions that the name was not merely a metaphorical term for the restaurant but rather an indication of the food served on the menu – literally crawling red ants – yum), a small and funky looking internet café housing 1 computer (perhaps why they were charging on 10 baht as opposed to the other internet cafes I saw for 50 baht) and a chain convenience store, which they call “Family Mart”.
Along the streets, chain smoking men resting against bikes or sitting on the ground pavements would try and ask if you are interested in taking a “bike ride” to get around. Bikes are a primary form of transport, with many making a living as taxi bike drivers. As English is not widely spoken, hand gestures are normally used, with signals resembling the revving of a motor bike as meaning, “do you need a ride, sir?” and the inward motioning of the hand to mean, “this way, this way”. It only occurred to me later, on the bus ride back to Bangkok that drivers always had an extra helmet provided to customers. Wouldn’t it be somewhat unhygienic for numerous people to be sharing the same helmet? It certainly didn’t look like it went under some sort of intensive washing after each use. It’s so hot; anything can breed in this weather. What if someone has head lice? It didn’t seem to bother any of the passengers though – maybe it was like those animal relationships that sharks have with those little fish-like things attached on them. There’s mutual benefits to be shared. The difference here is that the lice win.

After a bit of scouting around the surrounding areas, fatigue of the swim had started to kick in and I headed back to the hotel for a bath and a nap. I bumped into a burly looking man and a HOT young woman in the lift whilst heading back to my room, whom I later got to know to be his daughter and was Russian… I have since renewed my interest in Russian women. But that’s a different story. Later headed back down to utilize the business centre in the hotel to check emails, the rest of the day went rather quickly as I fell asleep reading the book I had bought at Chep Lap Kok airport – Donnie Brasco: My undercover life in the Mafia.

Day 3:

Despite promises to myself to have an early night, I stayed up until 3am finishing Donnie Brasco. Woke up at 9am, and shot outside to catch what was left of breakfast by the ravaging horde of tourists. As the tourists were mostly Asian, they didn’t have an appetite for fruit for breakfast, and I managed to get a few plates of watermelon down with some highly concentrated orange juice. The weather was much hotter than the day before, and some early risers had already hit the beach to catch some sun and swim. The water looked somewhat less clean than the day before – I decided I would leave my swim for the pool. Nearing midday I checked out from the hotel, and asked if there was any direct shuttle bus to central Bangkok. There wasn’t, so I had to catch a taxi to the central bus depot, then catch the bus to central Bangkok and then try to find my hotel. The coach this time, was less of a “joyride” and thus passed rather uneventfully. The air conditioning was on full-blast causing a lot of coughing and throat clearing, and suddenly the thought of strain HN51 came streaking through again.

Arriving back in Ekamai I found relief in the sense that I had experienced all the chaos before, so it didn’t seem as daunting the second time around. However, as I had to find directions to my hotel (it only said Ploenjit road, Bangkok and didn’t specify a suburb) requiring lot of running around asking people and finger pointing of directions.

Back on the Skytrain, this time I was headed to Chit Lom, about 5 stations north-west of Ekemai and more towards the heart of the city. 15 minutes after check-in, it starts thunder storming outside. The interesting thing about the weather in Bangkok is that it can be pouring rain in one section of a road you are traveling, and then less than 3 minutes later traveling on the same road in the same direction; it is all bright and sunny with absolutely no indication of rain ever affecting that route just traveled. Roads will be dry and rooftops look like they haven’t seen rain in years. It’s almost like those old hand-drawn children’s storytelling books on which each page shows an obvious different season of year even though the real time of travel in the story is meant to be one day. I still have no explanation.

I hit the town about 4:30pm, first exploring Chit Lom. The malls didn’t seem all that enticing, so headed to see what Siam had to offer. Exiting Siam station immediately places you in front of the Siam Paragon – a huge multiplex of designer boutique stores and the like. There was a stage constructed outside, and some celebrities were performing in front of a growing crowd. As I couldn’t afford anything from Gucci or Bang & Olufson, I went to check out the other shopping complex near the skytrain – Siam Centre. Inside housed some very cool joints, some layouts making for some funky interior designs. On the top level there was a very cool radio station booth broadcasting live – I’m still curious to this day the reason why it was located there in a small booth in a shopping mall.

Heading back out to the street, it was getting crowded, with the Friday night punters out to party. The street stores in Bangkok are awesome, often hidden away in a maze of interconnecting side alleys. I was actually looking at a CD stand when I chanced upon these alleys. Holding anything from trendy clothes, to pirate CD’s these stores stand shoulder to shoulder in vying for business and are a shopper’s delight. I grabbed 3 shirts and a cap (not being able to fit into some pants I liked), and continued surveying the stores. Soon I came across a “eat street” which was more like an alley, which I’m sure its fine with the locals, but the place seemed a little dingy for me so I gave eating there a miss. The “street” which looked extremely narrow to be able to house eating tables against the wall, was incredibly enough as a walkthrough for pedestrians wanting to cross to the parallel street. The food looked good enough, but the fact that one had to eat with people brushing past, and a store vendor 3 booths down creating a mini-tsunami on the floor by trying to clean it while patrons were eating wasn’t enough of an incentive to eat there, so after taking a few pictures I moved on.

I saw two punk looking dudes sitting at some stairs at the end of the street and decided to make some chitchat. One of them was a student and aspiring DJ, who in collaboration with his partner, were to start a career in music. They were surprisingly friendly, inviting me to be part of their outfit only after a brief discussion! They seemed so eager to expand operations, I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I was probably the worst addition they could ever want in a band. They were playing an intro gig the next day, but I said I had to fly, so he dropped me his card and where to find them the next time in Bangkok. It was great!

By this time, I was running very low on money, having blown it all on the clothes and the previous few night’s exquisite room service meals. So I head back to Siam station, where on the way, there is a baby elephant and its owners feeding it peanuts on the busy sidewalk! Most surprising was not so much the fact that there was an elephant about as tall as a grown man, but the fact that it didn’t seem to bother anyone. People would just walk past it, without giving it a second glance – almost as if it was no more unusual than another pedestrian. That was kinda weird and cool. I don’t know which one more.

Finally back at the hotel and ready to pack up and leave Thailand and back to Hong Kong. It’s been a bizarre few days, but most enjoyable and entertaining. The frustration at the beginning of the trip was could have been better, but then again if not for that, where’s the fun in traveling?

Hope you have had as much fun reading this long tale of one stupid traveller’s experience, as I have had writing it.

Quincy