A little book called “The Beach” gave the islands of Thailand a magical aura that wouldn’t subside. Friends who I rendered potentially illiterate read “The Beach.” Possibly, it was due in part to Leonardo di Caprio’s buffed beach physique – his first role post-Titanic, he played Alex Garland’s main character in the movie version - that got them reading. True to my publishing roots, however, I choose to believe it’s all about the book. Regardless, I headed for the Thai islands with stars in my eyes, as nothing was going to tarnish my idea of what the islands should be about: absolutely natural beautiful beaches, relief from travel chaos, fruit-filled meals followed by lazy island sunset cocktails mixed by ex-pat hotties, and the best scuba diving known to man. Some of that vision came from my trips to the islands, some did not. Part of me thinks I’m spoiled, with the beaches of the Caribbean due south, part of me thinks that I held my perfect idea of the islands too close. Either way, I was slightly disappointed. I plan to head to the west coast islands of Phuket and the Similians before I come home, and see that side of things, but for now, my experience is limited to the Gulf of Thailand islands of Koh Tao, Koh Phangan, and Koh Samui.
I arrived from Bangkok to Koh Samui at 9 AM, and had to hang around waiting for a 12:00 Noon ferry to Koh Tao. I asked my hotel (which was providing transfer) if I could take an earlier ferry but the response I got was “Samui airport very nice, you sit in garden, we see you 11 AM to transfer.” Ok – airport hanging. I can handle it. The Samui airport, like the hotel said, is basically one big outdoor garden space, with lots of palm trees, restaurants, shops, massages services and a waiting area for people like me. Patiently, I waited until 11 AM with my book, but, SHOCKER, nobody came for me. So, with the help of two very sweet Thai airline attendants (“you no have transfer?”), I made my way to the Samui pier for the Koh Tao ferry. They had my reservation at the pier, but the help I was promised TO the pier never arrived. The usual reply for mistakes like these is “I sorry, ma’am” with an added blank stare for “now-shut-up” emphasis. Whatever. Why does lack of service even surprise me at this point? After a long ferry, I arrived onto Koh Tao, where me and two Swedes, Peter and his mute wife, were told that we’d be transferred to the hotel when the rest of the people came. An hour later. “Go, walk around Mae Head Town, very nice” was the instruction this time. So, like idiots, we did.
Koh Tao was my favorite. Mae Head Town, where the pier is located, is the “busiest” town of the island, with a 7-11 (they’re on EVERY street corner in mainland Thailand, and seemingly, here too) being the main commercial draw. Other than that, Koh Tao housed a few restaurants, a few travel agencies, a few internet café and a million scuba outfits with guest houses for the divers. As we headed up to Sai Ree Beach, where I was staying, the street lights stopped lighting and the roads got progressively worse, as 75% of the island is without hot water and electricity. It’s all about the diving, all about the purity of the island. The Coral Grand Resort (they use the term “resort” VERY loosely here – any accommodation with a working phone and a massage therapist on the premises might be called a resort) was perfectly fine. Not exactly what I pictured, but exactly what I needed. I had a beach bungalow, hot water, electricity (that shut for 2 hours a day to change generators) a porch that overlooked the ocean, and solitude. To some, it might be a shack, as the bathroom was more Flintstone than Four Seasons (I half expected an elephant trunk to be my “running” water hose), but I was happy to just chill out and take time off from traveling. In Koh Tao, I made a friend on my first (and only) dive day, who hung with me each evening, having dinner and conversation, as he was living there for a 2-month divemaster’s course (he MARVELED at my digs and used me for my hot water). (SEE…to some, my bungalow was even considered indulgent.) I spent my days, well…the first two….on the beach, eating fresh pineapple, papaya and watermelon at mealtimes, staring out into the bluest of waters, surrounded by lush hills of palm trees and rocky valleys of boulders. At sunset, the tide would recede and on the wet sand, the locals would play soccer. Brave westerners would often join for some exercise, slowly realizing that this wasn’t their backyard soccer game and retreat just as gingerly as they came. After sunset, the restaurants along the beach put out pillows and mats for people to lazily lounge on while eating/drinking a bit before heading off to bed. Granted, the lounge chairs were unpadded, the bartenders mixing my sunset cocktails were teeny Thais that I could pocket without struggle, and the diving visibility wasn’t great, but all in all, Tao was bliss. I only got to dive for a day. As previously mentioned, monsoons kicked in and rendered anything besides hanging in the bungalow, reading, do-able. It kinda felt like a rainy camp day, for the bunk loser who had no friends.
When my time to leave Tao arrived, I wasn’t ready. With the rain, I lost 2 full days and wanted to stay longer and dive some more, but I had a reservation on Koh Phangan, the party island, and the Full Moon party – one of the largest parties in the world – fell during my time in Thailand. How could I NOT check it out? So, I begrudgingly got onto the ferry down to Koh Phangan to see what the Full Moon scene was all about.
WRONG MOVE. I arrived in Koh Phangan to a throbbing pier of youngsters, half-clad and hungover, waiting for the boat to ferry them OFF Koh Phangan. When my communal taxi driver dropped off a couple about 50 km and a huge hill AWAY from their hotel, calling it a ride, I knew I was in trouble. 15 minutes later, he tried to drop me in a mud pit in the “center” of town that served as a taxi stand. I balked, pointing to my wheelie. Wherein, we proceeded to have a half Thai-half English discussion/fight about door-to-door transportation (my side) and “Why is bag so big? Everyone else carry on their back! Not MY fault you don’t pack good!!” (his side) So I politely told him to fuck off, then gave him another $1 and get proper service.
My hotel was another disaster. I was “lucky” according to every traveler headed to Full Moon, to have been able to secure lodging. But, I promise, The Drop In “Resort” was no picnic. The elevator was broken, there were ants ALL over the bathroom that kept making their way closer to my bed area, the shower curtain had so much mold on it that when my soap slipped out of my hand it was brown when I picked it up from the briefest encounter with the curtain scum, the pool stereo system pumped 50 Cent and Eminem at 10 AM at full blast, and the staff were pissed at me because, guess what, they sent a car for me to the pier and I didn’t show up. ARE YOU KIDDING?? Then, then show me the sign I was supposed to notice on the crazy Koh Phangan pier. It was an index card, used for 2nd grade multiplication tables, not transfer service signage. I mean…..
So, after checking in, I make my way into town. This isn’t for me. I know immediately. As if my Jazz Fest experience (and those of you who experienced me there) wasn’t a telling sign that mass parties taking place in outdoor spaces that bring out the dregs of society looking for an excuse to get wasted in excess wasn’t enough of a warning that I don’t like these types of events, this was the icing on the cake. Town is packed with people, EVERYWHERE. And town, on a good day, wouldn’t pass for A town. It’s just narrow little lanes of crappy stores and rundown cafes, winding toward the beach, on which, everyone will congregate at a later hour. OK. I breathe, walk, survey the scene.
First thing I notice is everyone is white and speaks English. Second thing I notice, I am easily 5-10 years older than most people here. Third, everyone has dredlocks and a messenger bag of some variety slung over their person. I fit in oh-so-well in my little Marc Jacobs skirt, James Perse wife beater and ivory bangle bracelets. Fully....um, right. The cafes are packed with lifeless bodies strewn around, watching movies and reruns of Friends. Everyone in the cafes is comatose, eyes glued to the Joey pees on Monica episode, or a showing of Lost in Translation. Why vacation to sit in a café doing what you would do on your couch at home? I’m not sure I get it. Ok, I don't. I’m starving, so I sit down at a little Mediterranean café. The one thing that people raved about on Phangan was the Mediterranean food, as tons of Israelis live here. There, I indulged in the best falafel I’ve ever had and watermelon shakes (my first of MANY) and was momentarily happy. Heading back to my ant hole, I felt that sleep would probably serve me for the long night ahead. I was determined to get through Full Moon. Of course, I couldn’t sleep, I was just itchy and buggy and waiting for the rodents that I knew were hiding in the walls to come and get me. I’m really not squeamish, but after seeing a cockroach as big as a small sparrow in the internet café downstairs, I felt like the Drop In houses more insects than people.
Around 9 PM, I made my way onto the beach. What a difference a few hours makes. The carnival had begun, sunset had let loose the creatures of the Full Moon universe. Everywhere you turned, people. Most were in various states of undress, glowing with body paint announcing “Full Moon 2-14” or “Full Moon Party.” Glo - sticks, glo -headbands and glo-glasses were being sold like candy (yes, people were buying them like they were gold), as were roses, shell necklaces, hits of X. mushrooms shakes, marijuana, lollipops, water and, the Thai bucket that so enticed me in Chiang Mai. I decided I wanted a proper place for the action and headed down to one of the many lounge areas set up along the beach (pillows, mats and tables in the middle) and ordered…a beer. I just didn’t have it in me to be any more daring than that. Shortly after I sat, two guys sat next to me and became my protectors for the night. I only remember Steve. The other’s name escapes me, if I ever even knew it. We just took it all in. As we walked down the beach, there were fire throwers, rings of fire for the daring (and drunk) to jump through while a crowd jeered, suspension ladders to climb. There were clubs as far as the eye could see, and as you walked, you hit different decades of music with each new venue. 70’s. 80’s. 90’s. Electronica. Trance. Hip-Hop. Dance. Then, high on a mountain top, away from it all, was Mellow Mountain, playing Reggae and Dead in different rooms. The bodies were pulsating, convulsing to the music, everywhere. Walking around, dancing, drinking, all night – Steve, No-name, and I just wandered and watched. It actually was a blast and when I next looked at my watch it was almost 5 AM. 8 hours had passed!?!?!? So, rather than an awkward goodbye, when Steve and No-name went to the bathroom, I bolted. Happy to be back at my anthole, I drifted off to sleep. And….can you guess? I checked out the next morning.
If Koh Tao was the sleepy island and Koh Phangan the island that never sleeps, Koh Samui is somewhere in between. It’s definitely commercialized a bit, as McDonalds and Starbucks have made their way to Samui, but it was a blessing after my time on Phangan. My hotel was on a gorgeous four room beach bungalow (again, me and my 3 kids were staying for the week….) off an infinity pool that opened onto the beach. I stayed on Lamai Beach, a long stretch of sand with unbelievably warm ocean water. While the beach itself wasn’t gorgeous, the background setting again struck me as beautiful about the islands, keeping me smiling. On Samui, the music at the pool was a mix between Maroon 5 and Marc Cohn, rather than rap, and the nightly BBQs dotted along the sand consisting of fresh-caught fish ranging from Barracuda to Tiger Prawns (as big as 3 lb lobster tails!), were fantastic.
Now, as the rain sets in on the last hours of my last day on Samui, I am ready to get back into hardcore travel (after I indulge in just one more spicy beef salad and pad thai). I’ve been idle for almost 10 days now. Sure, the chocolate of my skin will help me fit right into India where I’m heading in a bit (I can’t tell you how many times people have asked if I’m Indian (or Israeli)) and I’ll miss the daily beach massages BUT…I’m ready to move on. I arrive into Delhi tomorrow AM, where I am meeting my friend Matt who lives there. Then, the Hanfts and I are Taj Mahal-ing thru Agra, and I just found out (thank you, Kim) that Ehrenberg is arriving into India for three weeks of work on March 1st. Who knew life would be peopled with such familiar faces….IN INDIA? For the experiences I KNOW I’m about to have there, I absolutely cannot wait.
More soon…
xoxo
Showing posts with label Thailand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thailand. Show all posts
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
You can call me Madam Marie...
The shiny, sleepless city of Bangkok has become my second home. I think it’s fair to say that it’s the second home of most Asia-bound travelers, as all (direct) flights originate in Bangkok. So, after Cambodia, back to Bangkok I went. Upon re-entry into Thailand, I had to switch gears, yet again, acclimating back to the fast, furious pace of city life after the rural poverty of Cambodia. I feel as if I almost subconsciously rebelled against all I saw in Cambodia, setting up shop in a nice hotel, making manicure, pedicure, and massage appointments on arrival. When I realized what I was doing, there was a guilty understanding of it, just how easy it was for me to revert back to the material world, but at the same time, I’m not offering false apologies for it.
Bangkok, this time, would be filled with familiarity. First, Carrie and Mark Pastolove were headed to Thailand on vacation, then my travel “mate” (as he says) Adam was meeting back up before concluding his trip and returning to Melbourne. So, whereas, I was a tourist trying desperately to hit all the Bangkok sights in two days time last trip, I was now merely Marie in Bangkok, making dinner plans and having drinks with friends. Kinda fun…strangely familiar. And, for those who know him, BANGKOK with Mark Pastolove??? Who passes THAT up? Well, I had no idea of the kind of night it was going to be. Hilarious is an understatement.
Mark was VERY EAGER to hit the sex clubs of Patpong. I guess, as a guy, it’s a right of passage to experience those kinds of Bangkok nights. So, to Super Pussy we headed: Mark and his two ladies, out on the town. Immediately we’re accosted by a Thai guy sporting a “menu” of the pingpong show acts that read something like this (there were about 3xs the acts listed on the real “menu”, mind you…):
Pussy use chopsticks
Pussy smoke cigarette
Pussy drink soda
Pussy sewing needles
Pussy razor blades
Pussy paper flowers
Pussy open bottle
Pussy ping pong balls
You get the point.
These little laminated 3x5 cards all with the same Pussy Tricks listed. So, we follow Sex Club Thai Guy into Super Pussy, where he tells us that it’s 100 Baht ($2.50 with a beer included) for the show. Ok, cool. We make our way through a black-lit bar with go-go poles on a raised stage in the middle, our teeth and eyeballs glowing fluorescent like a freshman in the cool-guy-with-the-black-lit-room-in-the-dorms (Hey Cohen, 3rd floor, second from corner room, next to Peter’s…sound familiar…?). On the stage are about 10 stretch-marked, NASTY, fat, Thai women in baby-blue and white striped bikinis that are pulled various ways to expose their body parts – a breast here, a pussy there, an ass cheek there. We’re got a bird’s eye view, front row. We’re Pastoloves! These women are slowly making their way around the bar before the show starts massaging the clients, with staccato motions of NO therapeutic measure. Then, as if they’re really worked a sore muscle in any redeeming way, asking “tip, tip?” Relentlessly. I had a woman tell me “You’re so beautiful…..can I have a tip?” I’m like – for SAYING THAT??? Carrie could mindlessly tell me the same thing, should I truly crave the compliment. I mean – it’s amazing how shameless these women are (besides the obvious professional career choice shamelessness). Anyway, as the massages finish, Carrie pulls out her anti-bacterial gel to clean us all off (…as if the AIR wasn’t laced with disease already….), and we proceed to misinterpret that the massages are just frivolous, nothing to do with the show, and give each of our “therapists” 100 Baht. Schmucks. Right there, all the eyes that were watching us branded us tourist assholes (as if the anti-bacterial didn’t give it away), and from that moment on, we were doomed. The show begins, all the stretch-marked miseries on stage pulling razor strings out of the vags, opening bottle caps (YES, I KID YOU NOT….beer bottles popping right off in the clutches of the Thai nether regions!) with their vags, smoking cigarettes with their vags (is there a such thing as catching “pussy cancer” from smoking with yours? Easily the question on everyone’s minds...) At which point, Mark, disgusted beyond belief at the show, gets told that we have to pay 300 Baht. Remember, we’re the schmucks who gave 100 Baht to the masseuses … and now, we get swindled for 300 Baht each. Mark is protesting. The dirty, nasty, bartender is screaming at us, the bouncers (if you will - they are just beefy pock-marked menacing looking women) behind us barring exit. And Mark is FUMING. Just wild with anger that we’re getting taken advantage of and there are no rules here, etc..etc… In theory, I 100% support him, but you’re in SE Asia, everyone gets taken advantage of a little bit here, no? Yes.
We leave and head to grab a beer. Mark is seething, ranting, giving everyone in his sight the finger. As we walk, we’re seeing stray dogs and silhouettes of rats in the shadows, lady boys with their lady boy lovers strolling down the alleys, street elephants being exploited for cash on the roadways, more ping pong promoters doing their ping pong promoting, and all the while, Mark is bemoaning the state of corruption in Bangkok – ]
“I don’t do well with being taken advantage of."
"Oh my fucking god, I just need to go back to my nice hotel, where they say “How are you Mr. Pastolove? Good evening, Mr. Pastolove. Now!!"
"If I were with my friends, it might be different, but I’m with you ladies.”
Carrie and I were peeing in our pants all the while, at Mark’s rile, Mark’s fury, quiet in the knowledge, that we “ladies” had a better Bangkok stomach than our protective man. ;) A night, as I predicted, I will NEVER forget.
After leaving Mark and Carrie to the tamer Chiang Mai, I spent a day running to the sights that I didn’t get to see last time around, and of course, hitting Ko San Road for a little more eye-candy and street vendor pad thai. Getting back to my hotel, ready for a relaxing night, I get online only to realize that relaxing is just not in my Bangkok future. Someone stole my debit card #s and was running around NYC (of all places?!?!?!) hell bent on buying sporting equipment. Modells, Sports Authority, eating (likely picking up the tab, given the bill size…) at a place called Jimmy Jazz (Anyone know it? What’s it like?). Therein, I spent my night on the phone with Chase, tracking all the charges, reissuing a new card to my sister to send to my friend Matt in India (my next stop), canceling accounts that draw from the old #s. I mean…..never a dull moment for me. Even in Asia. NEVER.
Then, since I’m seemingly the madam of Bangkok, Adam arrived, sheepishly wanting to go to the strip clubs, as he hadn’t been on his past visit here, so….back I went. I should charge for my strip club tour services. This time, we found a more legit (ha) place than Super Pussy, lasted the whole show, didn’t get ripped off, and spent the night without incident. Thought, if I never see another Pussy Ping Pong Show again in my life, I’ll be JUST FINE. Promise.
I am now on Koh Tao, the northernmost of the Thai islands located in the Gulf of Thailand. It’s absolutely beautiful here, I finished a book, and am processing all I’ve seen/done in the last 5 weeks, been diving a few times, and feel great. Unluckily, we seem to have caught a monsoon’s wrath for the past two days, rendering me pretty useless being that the island is very primitive, 90% of it lacking 24-hour electricity and hot water. I’m pretty much stuck in my beachfront cottage, listening to the sound of rain beat on my roof while I write and read the hours away.
Am I REALLY complaining? Yeah….not so much.
More soon.
xoxoxo
Bangkok, this time, would be filled with familiarity. First, Carrie and Mark Pastolove were headed to Thailand on vacation, then my travel “mate” (as he says) Adam was meeting back up before concluding his trip and returning to Melbourne. So, whereas, I was a tourist trying desperately to hit all the Bangkok sights in two days time last trip, I was now merely Marie in Bangkok, making dinner plans and having drinks with friends. Kinda fun…strangely familiar. And, for those who know him, BANGKOK with Mark Pastolove??? Who passes THAT up? Well, I had no idea of the kind of night it was going to be. Hilarious is an understatement.
Mark was VERY EAGER to hit the sex clubs of Patpong. I guess, as a guy, it’s a right of passage to experience those kinds of Bangkok nights. So, to Super Pussy we headed: Mark and his two ladies, out on the town. Immediately we’re accosted by a Thai guy sporting a “menu” of the pingpong show acts that read something like this (there were about 3xs the acts listed on the real “menu”, mind you…):
Pussy use chopsticks
Pussy smoke cigarette
Pussy drink soda
Pussy sewing needles
Pussy razor blades
Pussy paper flowers
Pussy open bottle
Pussy ping pong balls
You get the point.
These little laminated 3x5 cards all with the same Pussy Tricks listed. So, we follow Sex Club Thai Guy into Super Pussy, where he tells us that it’s 100 Baht ($2.50 with a beer included) for the show. Ok, cool. We make our way through a black-lit bar with go-go poles on a raised stage in the middle, our teeth and eyeballs glowing fluorescent like a freshman in the cool-guy-with-the-black-lit-room-in-the-dorms (Hey Cohen, 3rd floor, second from corner room, next to Peter’s…sound familiar…?). On the stage are about 10 stretch-marked, NASTY, fat, Thai women in baby-blue and white striped bikinis that are pulled various ways to expose their body parts – a breast here, a pussy there, an ass cheek there. We’re got a bird’s eye view, front row. We’re Pastoloves! These women are slowly making their way around the bar before the show starts massaging the clients, with staccato motions of NO therapeutic measure. Then, as if they’re really worked a sore muscle in any redeeming way, asking “tip, tip?” Relentlessly. I had a woman tell me “You’re so beautiful…..can I have a tip?” I’m like – for SAYING THAT??? Carrie could mindlessly tell me the same thing, should I truly crave the compliment. I mean – it’s amazing how shameless these women are (besides the obvious professional career choice shamelessness). Anyway, as the massages finish, Carrie pulls out her anti-bacterial gel to clean us all off (…as if the AIR wasn’t laced with disease already….), and we proceed to misinterpret that the massages are just frivolous, nothing to do with the show, and give each of our “therapists” 100 Baht. Schmucks. Right there, all the eyes that were watching us branded us tourist assholes (as if the anti-bacterial didn’t give it away), and from that moment on, we were doomed. The show begins, all the stretch-marked miseries on stage pulling razor strings out of the vags, opening bottle caps (YES, I KID YOU NOT….beer bottles popping right off in the clutches of the Thai nether regions!) with their vags, smoking cigarettes with their vags (is there a such thing as catching “pussy cancer” from smoking with yours? Easily the question on everyone’s minds...) At which point, Mark, disgusted beyond belief at the show, gets told that we have to pay 300 Baht. Remember, we’re the schmucks who gave 100 Baht to the masseuses … and now, we get swindled for 300 Baht each. Mark is protesting. The dirty, nasty, bartender is screaming at us, the bouncers (if you will - they are just beefy pock-marked menacing looking women) behind us barring exit. And Mark is FUMING. Just wild with anger that we’re getting taken advantage of and there are no rules here, etc..etc… In theory, I 100% support him, but you’re in SE Asia, everyone gets taken advantage of a little bit here, no? Yes.
We leave and head to grab a beer. Mark is seething, ranting, giving everyone in his sight the finger. As we walk, we’re seeing stray dogs and silhouettes of rats in the shadows, lady boys with their lady boy lovers strolling down the alleys, street elephants being exploited for cash on the roadways, more ping pong promoters doing their ping pong promoting, and all the while, Mark is bemoaning the state of corruption in Bangkok – ]
“I don’t do well with being taken advantage of."
"Oh my fucking god, I just need to go back to my nice hotel, where they say “How are you Mr. Pastolove? Good evening, Mr. Pastolove. Now!!"
"If I were with my friends, it might be different, but I’m with you ladies.”
Carrie and I were peeing in our pants all the while, at Mark’s rile, Mark’s fury, quiet in the knowledge, that we “ladies” had a better Bangkok stomach than our protective man. ;) A night, as I predicted, I will NEVER forget.
After leaving Mark and Carrie to the tamer Chiang Mai, I spent a day running to the sights that I didn’t get to see last time around, and of course, hitting Ko San Road for a little more eye-candy and street vendor pad thai. Getting back to my hotel, ready for a relaxing night, I get online only to realize that relaxing is just not in my Bangkok future. Someone stole my debit card #s and was running around NYC (of all places?!?!?!) hell bent on buying sporting equipment. Modells, Sports Authority, eating (likely picking up the tab, given the bill size…) at a place called Jimmy Jazz (Anyone know it? What’s it like?). Therein, I spent my night on the phone with Chase, tracking all the charges, reissuing a new card to my sister to send to my friend Matt in India (my next stop), canceling accounts that draw from the old #s. I mean…..never a dull moment for me. Even in Asia. NEVER.
Then, since I’m seemingly the madam of Bangkok, Adam arrived, sheepishly wanting to go to the strip clubs, as he hadn’t been on his past visit here, so….back I went. I should charge for my strip club tour services. This time, we found a more legit (ha) place than Super Pussy, lasted the whole show, didn’t get ripped off, and spent the night without incident. Thought, if I never see another Pussy Ping Pong Show again in my life, I’ll be JUST FINE. Promise.
I am now on Koh Tao, the northernmost of the Thai islands located in the Gulf of Thailand. It’s absolutely beautiful here, I finished a book, and am processing all I’ve seen/done in the last 5 weeks, been diving a few times, and feel great. Unluckily, we seem to have caught a monsoon’s wrath for the past two days, rendering me pretty useless being that the island is very primitive, 90% of it lacking 24-hour electricity and hot water. I’m pretty much stuck in my beachfront cottage, listening to the sound of rain beat on my roof while I write and read the hours away.
Am I REALLY complaining? Yeah….not so much.
More soon.
xoxoxo
Monday, January 30, 2006
The art of Sangsom
Chiang Mai is a city that is getting it’s share of air time in the world right now. Any trip to Thailand seems no longer SOLELY about the islands, but also a trip north to Chiang Mai and the surrounding region. Rightfully so. Different than modern Bangkok, Chiang Mai’s center is the Old City, surrounded by a wall and moat, with four “gates” or entry points. There’s a certain feel of authenticity inside the Old City, as the surrounding city of Chiang Mai has started to modernize, filling the streets with good shopping and restaurants. The contrast, though, works.
My first night in Chiang Mai was a blast. First, I walked around the Night Bazaar, which is on ChangKlan Road every night from 6-midnight. The street lines itself with vendors, hundreds of hundreds of them, selling silks, bags, trinkets, CDs, jewelry, etc… for pennies. Like in Bangkok, you just wander and watch it all go on around you. Believe it or not, I’m not REALLY tempted to buy too much out here (so far, I know myself better than to never say never about shopping…) so, more than anything, all the bazaars are just great people-watching time for me. Then, Reiter put me in touch with her friend’s brother, Andrew, who’s been living in Chiang Mai for about five years. He was great, so helpful accommodating in planning my trip, so we met for dinner and immediately hit it off. He took me, by motorcycle (love the motobikes travel out here in Asia, it’s all so Cool-Rider-esque), to dinner on the Ping River, which at night has a good scene, restaurants are big, serve great Thai food, and local bands cover American music with uncanny ability. It AMAZES me how by day, these people ONLY speak Thai, and by night, they’re Bob Dylan complete with the Minnesota twang on random syllables.
Indeed dinner became an extra special night, for I was introduced to "the" Thai whiskey, which is really a rum called Sang Som, which we proceeded to kill two, yes two, bottles of (I’m since hooked…). Everyone drinks it out here, you order bottles, albeit small bottles, not glasses of the stuff and hope for the best. Then, we proceeded to a local Thai club called Bubble and danced our asses off. I mean…. Meanwhile, the Thai people, while they can party, have NO rhythm. I’ve noticed this in Asia. No ability to clap, kick, step-ball-change, or shake to the beat. It’s all off, and if you’ve got rhythm (and I KNOW I’ve got rhythm…), you’re a little upset at the lack thereof. Someone should open a chain of dancing schools out here, call it ‘Johnny America Dances’ or something equally Western, and make a fortune….
I woke Day Two of Chiang Mai a MISERABLE rummed-out bitch. So, I hired a car to take me to out of town to Wat Doi Suthep (the premiere temple in Chiang Mai that overlooks the city) alone, because I really couldn’t deal with having to be anything but quiet and hungover. Buddhist hospitality, though, couldn’t even do the trick. I was snappish and cranky to my ever-sweet driver, who finally got pissed off and duped me into seeing the Sam Kaempang Road “tourist trap” local factories after the temple (which was beautiful, but after the Grand Palace in Bangkok, little can compare), and wound up buying a silver bracelet that I’ve probably seen about 10 renditions of for a quarter of the price in various marketplaces since. Asshole. But, likely serves me right for my attitude. I guess even Buddhist are allowed revenge sometimes.
The third day in Chiang Mai was the best day, as I took a cooking class. It’s a big thing in Thailand to learn, assuming you like the food as much as I have, how to cook Thai. So, I signed up for the Chiang Mai Thai Cookery school, a one-day class taught by the “Emeril” of Thailand, Sompon. A great, great, day. We learned how to make 6 traditional courses (Marisa, mine were: chicken in coconut milk soup, fish with red curry, fried wide noodles with brown sauce, stir-fried mushrooms and baby corn with chilis, papaya salad with sticky rice and banana (I subbed pumpkin) cake in banana leaves), first going to the market and picking our ingredients, then eating every morsel of what we made. Parting gift: Thai cookbook. So, when I get home next, I’ll cook y’all some curry, k? Of course, I went a little overboard on flipping the wok all around and “tossing” my food in and out of it, that I scalded my foot with about a 1/3 cup of boiling oil when it slopped out of my wok. Now, I have a discolored left foot b/c of the burn. Yeah. But, a true champ (read: embarrassed), I didn’t tell anyone. I suffered silently. Maybe I’ll check into a 5-star hotel in the next city for “successfully battling the oil….”
Day four’s trek was supposed to start at 8 AM, but getting downstairs for the bus, the very polite Thai lady at the Tour Desk realized she booked me for the wrong day. BUT, I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO ON A VILLAGE TREK AND RIDE THE ELEPHANTS TODAY… “I sorry, I sorry, Miss Marie.” Swallow, breathe, does this really matter? You’re in Thailand, trekless. Big freakin’ deal. YOU’RE IN THAILAND, Marie. THAILAND. No, it doesn’t matter one bit… Sometimes, you just need to check yourself. So after kicking around town, exploring more of Chiang Mai, I signed online and got a nice surprise ~ Adam from Nha Trang and his friends arrived today, looking for me. So fun! The best part of SEAsia travel is that everyone is on the same route and the paths cross over and over again. So, you’re continually able/bound to see the people you enjoy. That became Day 4 in Chiang Mai, meeting up with Adam, Sang Som-ing it, obviously... He taught me a different way to enjoy my Thai whiskey. Buckets. Basically, you get a bucket of ice, a Coke, a Red Bull, and a bottle of Sang Som. You dump them all into the ice bucket. Voila, your cocktails....drink up.
So, as you might've guessed, considering I learned buckets last night, I almost didn’t make it to the rescheduled, now half-day, elephant camp tour, but luckily my Thai Travel desk friend woke my Sang-Som’d ass outta slumber at 8:15 with a “Miss Marie…you sleepy?” I felt awful, but knew that I had to go. Who goes to Chiang Mai and doesn’t see the elephants? And, I was flying out to Laos in the afternoon, today was my last chance. I jumped unshowered and exhausted into the van, begging my stomach to hold on just a little longer until we got to the camp. Well, as we arrived, I lost it. I had to sit down on the side, work out of my nausea and light-headedness. A rush of Thais, all looking confused at my behavior, could be seen offering me Mentos, baguettes, smelling salts, water, juice, anything to get me smiling again. I wasn’t sure that was going to happen… After a circus-like performance by the 77 elephants in the camp (They paint! They dance! They sing! They give rides!), which made me a little sad over the way they’re exploited for the idiotic tourist population, I decided to take a ride on an elephant. Yeah, not the best move. Has anyone ever ridden an elephant? Very slow, up-down, move-one-big-fat-elephant-leg-at-a-time bumpy ride that is cake with a good night’s un-alcohol-fueled sleep, I’m SURE. Not for me. I had to be taken OFF the elephant, all the Thais talking in Thai to get me (quickly, ha!) back to the loading-unloading dock where I could disembark (you can’t just like, jump off) mid-way through. Loser loser loser, Marie, So, there I was, sitting in like, the sick-bay infirmary, of elephant camp while the rest of my group got to play and frolic with the animals. What a morning….
Off to Laos, but after a fun five days in Chiang Mai. Wonder when I’m next drinking Sang Som….? Yeah, right.
More soon…
xoxo
My first night in Chiang Mai was a blast. First, I walked around the Night Bazaar, which is on ChangKlan Road every night from 6-midnight. The street lines itself with vendors, hundreds of hundreds of them, selling silks, bags, trinkets, CDs, jewelry, etc… for pennies. Like in Bangkok, you just wander and watch it all go on around you. Believe it or not, I’m not REALLY tempted to buy too much out here (so far, I know myself better than to never say never about shopping…) so, more than anything, all the bazaars are just great people-watching time for me. Then, Reiter put me in touch with her friend’s brother, Andrew, who’s been living in Chiang Mai for about five years. He was great, so helpful accommodating in planning my trip, so we met for dinner and immediately hit it off. He took me, by motorcycle (love the motobikes travel out here in Asia, it’s all so Cool-Rider-esque), to dinner on the Ping River, which at night has a good scene, restaurants are big, serve great Thai food, and local bands cover American music with uncanny ability. It AMAZES me how by day, these people ONLY speak Thai, and by night, they’re Bob Dylan complete with the Minnesota twang on random syllables.
Indeed dinner became an extra special night, for I was introduced to "the" Thai whiskey, which is really a rum called Sang Som, which we proceeded to kill two, yes two, bottles of (I’m since hooked…). Everyone drinks it out here, you order bottles, albeit small bottles, not glasses of the stuff and hope for the best. Then, we proceeded to a local Thai club called Bubble and danced our asses off. I mean…. Meanwhile, the Thai people, while they can party, have NO rhythm. I’ve noticed this in Asia. No ability to clap, kick, step-ball-change, or shake to the beat. It’s all off, and if you’ve got rhythm (and I KNOW I’ve got rhythm…), you’re a little upset at the lack thereof. Someone should open a chain of dancing schools out here, call it ‘Johnny America Dances’ or something equally Western, and make a fortune….
I woke Day Two of Chiang Mai a MISERABLE rummed-out bitch. So, I hired a car to take me to out of town to Wat Doi Suthep (the premiere temple in Chiang Mai that overlooks the city) alone, because I really couldn’t deal with having to be anything but quiet and hungover. Buddhist hospitality, though, couldn’t even do the trick. I was snappish and cranky to my ever-sweet driver, who finally got pissed off and duped me into seeing the Sam Kaempang Road “tourist trap” local factories after the temple (which was beautiful, but after the Grand Palace in Bangkok, little can compare), and wound up buying a silver bracelet that I’ve probably seen about 10 renditions of for a quarter of the price in various marketplaces since. Asshole. But, likely serves me right for my attitude. I guess even Buddhist are allowed revenge sometimes.
The third day in Chiang Mai was the best day, as I took a cooking class. It’s a big thing in Thailand to learn, assuming you like the food as much as I have, how to cook Thai. So, I signed up for the Chiang Mai Thai Cookery school, a one-day class taught by the “Emeril” of Thailand, Sompon. A great, great, day. We learned how to make 6 traditional courses (Marisa, mine were: chicken in coconut milk soup, fish with red curry, fried wide noodles with brown sauce, stir-fried mushrooms and baby corn with chilis, papaya salad with sticky rice and banana (I subbed pumpkin) cake in banana leaves), first going to the market and picking our ingredients, then eating every morsel of what we made. Parting gift: Thai cookbook. So, when I get home next, I’ll cook y’all some curry, k? Of course, I went a little overboard on flipping the wok all around and “tossing” my food in and out of it, that I scalded my foot with about a 1/3 cup of boiling oil when it slopped out of my wok. Now, I have a discolored left foot b/c of the burn. Yeah. But, a true champ (read: embarrassed), I didn’t tell anyone. I suffered silently. Maybe I’ll check into a 5-star hotel in the next city for “successfully battling the oil….”
Day four’s trek was supposed to start at 8 AM, but getting downstairs for the bus, the very polite Thai lady at the Tour Desk realized she booked me for the wrong day. BUT, I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO ON A VILLAGE TREK AND RIDE THE ELEPHANTS TODAY… “I sorry, I sorry, Miss Marie.” Swallow, breathe, does this really matter? You’re in Thailand, trekless. Big freakin’ deal. YOU’RE IN THAILAND, Marie. THAILAND. No, it doesn’t matter one bit… Sometimes, you just need to check yourself. So after kicking around town, exploring more of Chiang Mai, I signed online and got a nice surprise ~ Adam from Nha Trang and his friends arrived today, looking for me. So fun! The best part of SEAsia travel is that everyone is on the same route and the paths cross over and over again. So, you’re continually able/bound to see the people you enjoy. That became Day 4 in Chiang Mai, meeting up with Adam, Sang Som-ing it, obviously... He taught me a different way to enjoy my Thai whiskey. Buckets. Basically, you get a bucket of ice, a Coke, a Red Bull, and a bottle of Sang Som. You dump them all into the ice bucket. Voila, your cocktails....drink up.
So, as you might've guessed, considering I learned buckets last night, I almost didn’t make it to the rescheduled, now half-day, elephant camp tour, but luckily my Thai Travel desk friend woke my Sang-Som’d ass outta slumber at 8:15 with a “Miss Marie…you sleepy?” I felt awful, but knew that I had to go. Who goes to Chiang Mai and doesn’t see the elephants? And, I was flying out to Laos in the afternoon, today was my last chance. I jumped unshowered and exhausted into the van, begging my stomach to hold on just a little longer until we got to the camp. Well, as we arrived, I lost it. I had to sit down on the side, work out of my nausea and light-headedness. A rush of Thais, all looking confused at my behavior, could be seen offering me Mentos, baguettes, smelling salts, water, juice, anything to get me smiling again. I wasn’t sure that was going to happen… After a circus-like performance by the 77 elephants in the camp (They paint! They dance! They sing! They give rides!), which made me a little sad over the way they’re exploited for the idiotic tourist population, I decided to take a ride on an elephant. Yeah, not the best move. Has anyone ever ridden an elephant? Very slow, up-down, move-one-big-fat-elephant-leg-at-a-time bumpy ride that is cake with a good night’s un-alcohol-fueled sleep, I’m SURE. Not for me. I had to be taken OFF the elephant, all the Thais talking in Thai to get me (quickly, ha!) back to the loading-unloading dock where I could disembark (you can’t just like, jump off) mid-way through. Loser loser loser, Marie, So, there I was, sitting in like, the sick-bay infirmary, of elephant camp while the rest of my group got to play and frolic with the animals. What a morning….
Off to Laos, but after a fun five days in Chiang Mai. Wonder when I’m next drinking Sang Som….? Yeah, right.
More soon…
xoxo
MAYBE, it was just Bangkok...
Everyone warned me about Bangkok… (except Sarah, yes…)
“Get in, get out.”
“I guess you have to SAY you’ve been to Bangkok, but it sucks.”
“It’s a dirty, gross city. Stay overnight. You’ll hate it.”
In my opinion, they were all wrong. I loved Bangkok. From the minute I landed to the minute I left, I just felt the energy of the city and knew it was going to be a place that worked for me. I actually will get back there a few more times, once before the Thai islands, and then, I fly home from Bangkok. I couldn’t be happier it worked out that way.
Why, you ask? Well, let me tell ya a few things….
Now MAYBE I was just a little tired at the end of Vietnam, you know, working off like one lung and all… MAYBE it was that in 15 degree winds blowing off Momma China in Sapa, I was stuck in a hotel room with no heat for two days and a refilled thermos (yes, a bring- your-coffee-to-work-THERMOS) of hot water to make tea, or MAYBE I’ve decided that my max in ONE country is two weeks. Whatever it is, when I got to Thailand, I felt whole again. Just invigorated and refreshed.
Now, MAYBE part of it could’ve been that my intro to Thailand started off a little more “right” at the Banyan Tree Resort/Spa that I booked on AmEx points to reward myself for successfully ‘fighting the bronchitis.’ MAYBE it was my suite on the 47th floor overlooking the whole city, or possibly, the state-of-the-art gym and spa on the 21st floor WAITING for me to indulge in them. I can’t say that didn’t HELP the situation, but…more than the temporary luxury, I really fell for the people (so sweet and good humored – everyone just laughs at themselves, aiming to please but not killing themselves over being unable) and the culture. From the stewardesses on the Air Asia flights to the taxi drivers, to the street vendors, to the shop owners, all the Thai people are just adorable. Adorable is the right word because they’re tiny and cute and loving. Adorable people, the Thais. And they all evoke this Buddhist, live and let live, aura about them. Very laid back, happy, relaxed people, just loving up the Buddha. Love them.
Then, you knew I was going here, the FOOD.
Ok, I have NO idea what rock I’ve been living under never having been exposed to Thai food. I’m sure at points, because I merely didn’t KNOW what it was all about, I asserted to a good many of you WHY I didn’t like Thai food, assorted made up reasons, all convincing, blah blah blah... (Translation: because I didn’t know it…) Well, while I was happy under my Thai-food-less rock, I’m MUCH happier under my new I eat Thai food rock. OH MY, Pad Thai, spicy beef salad, squid prepared any way, the curries – oh the curries, the soups, the prawns. Coconut, peanut, and cilantro everywhere. And….the chilis. Hollow your head out, burn your stomach apart, chilis. I literally cry through every meal, begging for more spice. I love it. The food is cheap as hell ($.50 from the street vendors, which is the BEST food in Bangkok, bar none), and delicious as anything you’ve ever tasted. I’m hooked.
Then, as previously mentioned, the Thai massage. A most sensual, relaxing, mind-blowing experience. I’ve been in Thailand for 5 days at this point and have already had three massages. Tonight’s was 3 hours with a scrub and a body wrap. I can’t get enough. They’re SOOO good. And, again, cheap. You can get them for as little as $3/hour or as much as $80/hour. It’s wonderful. Because I’m so stressed and all…right. Cherilyn, you would LIVE for them.
Anyway…Bangkok. On first look, a very modern city filled with tall glass and chrome buildings. Thriving Western business logos litter the bill boards, the busy streets are filled with taxis and tourists and tuk tuks by day, and the bustle of the night bazaars selling every knock-off of every item from DVDs to Dior bags to diamonds begs travelers to buy buy buy after the sun goes down! “Pretty lady, you buy now, I give you good price. How much you want to pay?” Looking past the sellers world of Bangkok, you see a city of sex filled with a bit of trash, and a lot of sleaze – the red light district of Patpong where clubs like “Super Pussy” hold court. Ladies holding poles and step-touching to the beat in bikini bottoms and pasties on the stages. More than anything, looking bored as hell. You can catch the women powdering their faces with white face make up to make themselves appear more fair skinned, catering to the Western consumers that raucously loiter in the doorways. You can overhear the haggled deals for “anything goes” being transacted in the glow of the fluorescent lights of the bars. And, it makes your skin crawl. BUT, if you get past all of that (which, by the way, makes for GREAT people watching), Bangkok is also a city of history and Buddhist piety, the Wats of Bangkok rising up against the skyline, mixing old with new, modernity with the culture of an ancient civilization. The result is, as far as I was concerned, a fantastic city with a mix of Thai cultures and traditions, all easy to embrace and interesting to be a part of.
The Wats along the river, which are best viewed by boatride, stopping along the way to walk each wat, are phenomenal. As I made my way through them, I couldn’t help but sing the soundtrack to Aladdin in my head. It’s all like a magical Disney movie. The temples, the colors, the jewels and golds of the architecture, the buddhas, people praying on site, the surrounding grounds, it’s all astounding. Pictures cannot convey these places with accuracy, you have to see them, be inside of them, to get the sense of importance, the sense of worship that the Thai people place above all else. Magnificent. I found myself just wandering around Bangkok for two days, in a dumb stupor, inhaling sights and sounds (and pad thai) at a furious rate. It’s no wonder Thailand claims many off the Khao San Road backpacker circuit (a street that is a literal jungle of people under 30, getting dreadlocks, eating street food, walking barefoot and chatting it up with other travelers, buying cheap wears from the boutiques that front the hundreds of hostels that line the street). There’s a reason Thailand is able to mesmerize people. It mesmerized me, for sure.
And that’s only after two nights in Bangkok…I cannot wait to come back. I feel like I just scratched the surface.
More soon from Chiang Mai...
~M
“Get in, get out.”
“I guess you have to SAY you’ve been to Bangkok, but it sucks.”
“It’s a dirty, gross city. Stay overnight. You’ll hate it.”
In my opinion, they were all wrong. I loved Bangkok. From the minute I landed to the minute I left, I just felt the energy of the city and knew it was going to be a place that worked for me. I actually will get back there a few more times, once before the Thai islands, and then, I fly home from Bangkok. I couldn’t be happier it worked out that way.
Why, you ask? Well, let me tell ya a few things….
Now MAYBE I was just a little tired at the end of Vietnam, you know, working off like one lung and all… MAYBE it was that in 15 degree winds blowing off Momma China in Sapa, I was stuck in a hotel room with no heat for two days and a refilled thermos (yes, a bring- your-coffee-to-work-THERMOS) of hot water to make tea, or MAYBE I’ve decided that my max in ONE country is two weeks. Whatever it is, when I got to Thailand, I felt whole again. Just invigorated and refreshed.
Now, MAYBE part of it could’ve been that my intro to Thailand started off a little more “right” at the Banyan Tree Resort/Spa that I booked on AmEx points to reward myself for successfully ‘fighting the bronchitis.’ MAYBE it was my suite on the 47th floor overlooking the whole city, or possibly, the state-of-the-art gym and spa on the 21st floor WAITING for me to indulge in them. I can’t say that didn’t HELP the situation, but…more than the temporary luxury, I really fell for the people (so sweet and good humored – everyone just laughs at themselves, aiming to please but not killing themselves over being unable) and the culture. From the stewardesses on the Air Asia flights to the taxi drivers, to the street vendors, to the shop owners, all the Thai people are just adorable. Adorable is the right word because they’re tiny and cute and loving. Adorable people, the Thais. And they all evoke this Buddhist, live and let live, aura about them. Very laid back, happy, relaxed people, just loving up the Buddha. Love them.
Then, you knew I was going here, the FOOD.
Ok, I have NO idea what rock I’ve been living under never having been exposed to Thai food. I’m sure at points, because I merely didn’t KNOW what it was all about, I asserted to a good many of you WHY I didn’t like Thai food, assorted made up reasons, all convincing, blah blah blah... (Translation: because I didn’t know it…) Well, while I was happy under my Thai-food-less rock, I’m MUCH happier under my new I eat Thai food rock. OH MY, Pad Thai, spicy beef salad, squid prepared any way, the curries – oh the curries, the soups, the prawns. Coconut, peanut, and cilantro everywhere. And….the chilis. Hollow your head out, burn your stomach apart, chilis. I literally cry through every meal, begging for more spice. I love it. The food is cheap as hell ($.50 from the street vendors, which is the BEST food in Bangkok, bar none), and delicious as anything you’ve ever tasted. I’m hooked.
Then, as previously mentioned, the Thai massage. A most sensual, relaxing, mind-blowing experience. I’ve been in Thailand for 5 days at this point and have already had three massages. Tonight’s was 3 hours with a scrub and a body wrap. I can’t get enough. They’re SOOO good. And, again, cheap. You can get them for as little as $3/hour or as much as $80/hour. It’s wonderful. Because I’m so stressed and all…right. Cherilyn, you would LIVE for them.
Anyway…Bangkok. On first look, a very modern city filled with tall glass and chrome buildings. Thriving Western business logos litter the bill boards, the busy streets are filled with taxis and tourists and tuk tuks by day, and the bustle of the night bazaars selling every knock-off of every item from DVDs to Dior bags to diamonds begs travelers to buy buy buy after the sun goes down! “Pretty lady, you buy now, I give you good price. How much you want to pay?” Looking past the sellers world of Bangkok, you see a city of sex filled with a bit of trash, and a lot of sleaze – the red light district of Patpong where clubs like “Super Pussy” hold court. Ladies holding poles and step-touching to the beat in bikini bottoms and pasties on the stages. More than anything, looking bored as hell. You can catch the women powdering their faces with white face make up to make themselves appear more fair skinned, catering to the Western consumers that raucously loiter in the doorways. You can overhear the haggled deals for “anything goes” being transacted in the glow of the fluorescent lights of the bars. And, it makes your skin crawl. BUT, if you get past all of that (which, by the way, makes for GREAT people watching), Bangkok is also a city of history and Buddhist piety, the Wats of Bangkok rising up against the skyline, mixing old with new, modernity with the culture of an ancient civilization. The result is, as far as I was concerned, a fantastic city with a mix of Thai cultures and traditions, all easy to embrace and interesting to be a part of.
The Wats along the river, which are best viewed by boatride, stopping along the way to walk each wat, are phenomenal. As I made my way through them, I couldn’t help but sing the soundtrack to Aladdin in my head. It’s all like a magical Disney movie. The temples, the colors, the jewels and golds of the architecture, the buddhas, people praying on site, the surrounding grounds, it’s all astounding. Pictures cannot convey these places with accuracy, you have to see them, be inside of them, to get the sense of importance, the sense of worship that the Thai people place above all else. Magnificent. I found myself just wandering around Bangkok for two days, in a dumb stupor, inhaling sights and sounds (and pad thai) at a furious rate. It’s no wonder Thailand claims many off the Khao San Road backpacker circuit (a street that is a literal jungle of people under 30, getting dreadlocks, eating street food, walking barefoot and chatting it up with other travelers, buying cheap wears from the boutiques that front the hundreds of hostels that line the street). There’s a reason Thailand is able to mesmerize people. It mesmerized me, for sure.
And that’s only after two nights in Bangkok…I cannot wait to come back. I feel like I just scratched the surface.
More soon from Chiang Mai...
~M
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
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