Back In The BeeKayKay

Image by Not Quite a Photographr via Flickr

Like sand through my fingers, it is all slipping away, and I can only watch the clock helplessly. At this point I have come full circle. The Bangkok that I arrived in is now the Bangkok that will initiate my return to familiar shores. Same city, completely different mindset.

About this, I am somewhat ambivalent. I would love to stay in this region longer, but I am also missing the familiar surroundings and comforts of my home. Nonetheless, I have two precious days left in the magnificence of Bangkok and despite my fatigue, I commit to not wasting these last few hours.

Fortunately for me, Bangkok did most of the heavy lifting in the waning moments. Once again, my greatest move was getting lost. I love walking in unfamiliar cities, but by now I was starting to feel familiar with the little corner of Bangkok that I had come to know.

My mission was take the one hour walk to Khaosan Road, so I could post a blog or two, have a drink and buy some gifts. My wayward sense of direction let me down once again. How is is that I can walk back to a hotel at 1am from this location, but I can't walk from my hotel to this location?

After heading in the right general direction on foot for about an hour, I began to realise that I was not going to Khaosan Road without assistance. Being the stubborn guy that I am, I refused to ask for assistance and kept walking.

Suddenly the crowd began to thicken and I initially began to think that a sporting event had just let out. As i continued to walk, I began to feel like a fish floating upstream.

One thing that puzzled me was the fact that 80% of the people that I passed were wearing pink shirts. In Thailand one should be aware of colours. Yellow represents the current government which came to power through a military coup. Red represents support for the previously democratically elected government. But why am I seeing all these pink shirts?

It turns out that I have unwittingly arrived in Bangkok during a magnificent celebration in honour of the King and Queen. I continue to press upstream against a sea of pink towards the buzz of the crowd, still thinking that I am heading to Khaosan Road.

I begin to hear music. Initially I think that it is yet another ghetto blaster selling stuff, but as I approach the pulse becomes deeper. I realise something is going on and all thoughts of Khaosan Road abandon me. I come upon a deep and wide avenue teeming with humanity. I estimate the crowd to be between 50,000 - 100,000 people.

Nearby are large television screens, and I see an orchestra playing, dancers dancing, and massive images being projected onto a large and majestic building. I turn around and begin to fathom that the events that I am seeing on this screen are happening live about three blocks down this magnifecent and humanity riddled avenue.

I have happened upon an annual celebration of the King and Queen of Thailand.

In Thailand, the king is seen to be empowered by God. He is also seen as a moderating political force. In short, in Thailand, the King is King. One should never climb over anything, as it may contain an image of the King. In Thailand you do not lick a stamp. The stamp contains an image of the King, and only animals lick things.

Needless to say, the celebration was astonishing and another unexpected delight. For two days the Bangkok night lit up with fireworks. Sadly, The King was not able to attend as he has been in hospital since September. Given the love for the King that I saw this weekend, I shudder to think how deep the mourning will be when he passes.

Long Live The King!

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

Riding The Rails

Image via Wikipedia

While reasearching this trip, I was delighted to find that there were multiple opportunities for rail travel. The first being a journey from Bangkok to Aranyaprathet, a small town near the Cambodian border. The plan was to catch the 5:55am train, as this was the only way to make it into Cambodia in one day by train, as the border closes at 8pm.

I get back to my hotel in Bangkok around 1am, after killing the evening on a patio in Khao San Road. I sleep fitfully, fearful of missing my 4am wakeup call.

After a series of short naps, I drag my ass out of bed and check out. As usual, I am running about a half hour behind my self imposed schedule. I exit the hotel and throw my bag into the back of a taxi when I hear a voice calling from the hotel, Sir sir!

The front desk is claiming that I owe them for one beer from the minibar.

They are incorrect, but I understand why they are saying this and the reasons are far too convoluted and boring to go into detail here.

I have neither the time nor the will to have an argument over such a trifle. I race back up to the mezzanine and pay the money, knowing they will realize their honest mistake later.

In short, I would advise all travelers who avail themselves of a minibar, to make sure that the maid makes up their room everyday, if only to keep an accurate tab. I thought I was giving the maid a break, but it cost me, more in aggravation than the small amount of money involved.

Now I am really behind and a lot hinges on getting my boney ass on this train. Fortunately, the magnificent train station is not far, and I make it with about three minutes to spare.

As expected, this particular route is run by a very basic train , and is very crowded. The seating is about as luxurious as your average subway. I find myself seated on a bench seat intended for three, with a similiar seat facing me, though it is hard to complain about the seating when my over five hour journey cost me less than two dollars, cheaper than a transit fare in Toronto.

I am also happy to be leaving Bangkok, and looking forward to getting off the beaten path. While Bangkok is a wonderful place, it is rife with the same indifference that is the hallmark of any large city.

The train heaves forward with an increasing clickety clack., as the receding city sparkles in the Bangkok dawn.

The train makes many stops, each at increasingly smaller stations. My seat mates change several times. At one point a lovely Thai lady who looks to be thirtyish joins me. At the next stop, a group of young boys dressed in sports uniforms board.

The lady engages them, and she and the kids are sharing laughs together. I desperately wish I could join in, but no matter.

Sometimes you don't need to understand the language to realize the true beauty of a fellow human being.

The Thai countryside rolls by as tuk tuks give way to oxen and shanty's are replaced by rice paddies. For the first time I feel that my journey is truly underway.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com/