Friday 29 June 2012

Phitsanulok - Just Passing Through

The Long and Winding Road

As my narrative reaches the first part of our overland journey let me tell you a little bit about Thai transport. For us wealthy westerners second class train journeys are very pleasant. The carriages have air-con, the seats are padded and fold back and have convenient tables and a smartly dressed lady marches up and down the aisle bringing you food and drink. The buses, for the most part, aren't much worse. The whole thing has air-con and often tinted windows and the seats lie back and have nifty cup holders.
Inner city travel is just as exclusive, plush air-conned taxis are available or of course the infamous tuk-tuk. These are three wheeled vehicles with a driver seat in the middle and the front and one or two two-seater benches in the back, complete with canopy and fairy lights.
For the local Thai, who could earn anything up from the minimum wage of six pounds (ish) a day, the aforementioned standard of travel is just too expensive. Third class trains look more like the local trains you see in cities at home, with long bench seats facing each other in fours. They are often padded, but some are just simple wood and you tend to get stuck to the padded ones anyway. There is no air-con so all the windows and the doors separating the carriages (the walkway is a narrow metal bridge with a rail) are thrown open. It's very pleasant to go rushing along with the scenery gliding past, but the noise of the train is deafening. There is no smart lady with drinks here but every few stops (and there are thousands!) a new lady gets on with a wide wicker hat and a huge banana leaf lined basket of goodies or an ice bucket of drinks. The buses are much the same, they fly past with every seat occupied and the windows and door wide open. Passengers loll about, bouncing up and down on the seats, buffeted by the breeze.
For longer distance road travel it is not uncommon to see a large pickup truck, with high metal bars all around the back, crammed full with fifteen or so windswept people standing in the back. Some of these with seats are used to take children home from school, with a runner at the back for the excess boys to stand on.
Within towns the locals use, as everyone who has even seen a picture of Thailand knows, the motorbike. But when they're not dicing with death in the frantic roads (old and young alike) they use sorng taa-ous. These are a distant cousin of the tuk-tuk, converted from small pickup trucks they still have the cab up front but have a covered, two benched passenger section in the back. They shoot around town picking up and dropping off as many people as they can in no logical order.

All Aboard

So, there we were at Hua Lumphong station, ready for our first ever Thai train journey. The station was a great place to people watch. All walks of life, westerners, monks, poor people, rich people, fruit sellers and officials, they all converged on the platforms, waiting for trains.
A monk came up and tried to sell me some Jason Statham DVDs, but the man behind me turned around and warned me off. "Monk no good," he said, "monk bad." There's another ex-fan, disappointed by Transporter 3.
The most incredible thing to watch was the workers at the station washing the trains. While they were still pulling in to the platforms they swarmed all over them like ants, changing destination placards, mopping the sides and jumping on and off to clean inside.
On board Theo was bitterly disappointed not to be travelling third class, that was, until they brought out the free food. The only real incident of note on our eight hour journey was my first encounter with a squat toilet. Outside the air-conned carriage it was needless to say a little fruity when I found it, a couple of hours in. The hole that leads on to the track is disconcerting to say the least. It was not altogether an enjoyable experience. My advice is, do it or don't. Man up and wade in or forget it. To go in half arsed (excuse the pun) especially on a moving train is a fatal error and a failure to adopt the correct full squatting position is disastrous. There that's all I'll say, lets move on.

Just Passing Through

We arrived in Phitsanulok, about 250 miles north of Bangkok, late which, as we would discover, is fairly standard. Phitsanulok is a fairly uninteresting town, destroyed by fire in the fifties and rebuilt with little flair its only draw was that it lay nicely in out path to the historic town of Sukhothai. More on that later.
In the late afternoon Phitsanulok, about 250 miles north of Bangkok, felt quiet and suburban. The streets are lined with school children playing games and adults of all ages jogging or working out on the road side gym equipment on "Healthy Street". We passed a circle of old men playing one of the most athletic games of haki-sack I have ever seen. The trees were alive in the dusk with the sound of flocks of birds.
Late in the evening Phitsanulok feels like an entirely different place. There were motorbikes absolutely everywhere, weaving in and out between the huge 4x4s that seem to be this country's car of choice. Everything seemed alight and buzzing and the pulsating heart of all this activity are the night bazaar and the market.
We of course made straight for the night market, which specialises in food. Walking up and down the rows of stalls we bought a little of everything that looked good. We had grilled corn on the cob, chicken skewers, strange crispy pancakes with something like melted marshmallow in the middle, soft pancakes containing Thai custard (like normal custard but bright green) and more Pad Thai. One stall laid out pic 'n' mix sushi while another sole deep fried insects.
The food almost improved on what we had in Bangkok, the same delicious flavours, but  more authentic, not jazzed up or cooled down for the tourists. That, and the peaceful functional temples that serve as the towns main tourist attractions are what make this town ever so slightly more than somewhere that was just on our way.

Wednesday 27 June 2012

Bangkok - I'm a real backpacker!


No matter how my travel blog turned out I always promised myself one thing, that I would never write it retrospectively. I don't want to write my impressions of these countries tempered with hindsight, and so with the memories of our first week already fading and losing focus it's high time I started to document them.
First let me introduce you to my traveling companion, and to paint the scene of my writing for you. When I find a computer with a memory card slot I will add a picture of Theo with his first Asian breakfast, it's very happy to see him. Theo joins me on this trip not only as my personal bodyguard (because of his impressive physique) but also as my financial adviser, tour guide and blog editor. So any errors you spot here are entirely his fault.

Culture Shock

So far on our epic two and a half month trip we have made it as far as Northern Thailand, we sit in the bar of our hotel drinking beer Chang, wilting from the heat and being periodically attacked by the mosquitoes and a murderous wasp. That's the first thing that really hits you when you step out of the airport, not the murderous wasp, the heat. Of course you know it's going to be hot, people warn you about the culture shock, the heat and the noise, but nothing can really prepare you for being hit in the face by a solid wall of heat. Suddenly every movement, every decision takes twice as much effort as it did before.
In the taxi into Bangkok we sat in silence for the whole forty minute journey, staring blankly out the window.
Bangkok looks like it has suddenly boomed into the 21st century, but the area we stayed in, Banglamphu, hasn't quite perfected it yet. There are too many people in too little space and the result in chaos.
The air is thick with the smell of pollution and the other odors of the street, all made worse by the heat. Along with hot drains and hot bodies there are the sweet aromas of ripe fruit and cooking. There is always something being boiled or fried by one of the street vendors.

Khao San Road

Over crammed shops spill out on to the pavement. A street of religious shops is lined with huge golden Buddhas and the shops themselves are piled top to bottom with colourful trinkets and bells, as well as strange buckets of essentials that look like survival kits that are apparently gift sets for monks. One man's shop was filled with random machine parts, rags and grease. It was stacked so high that he sat outside on the pavement aimlessly tinkering with a motor part.
Our first room really put us in the heart of the action. A stone's throw from Khao San road and surrounded by bars we were at the centre of backpacker territory. Our window opened on to a communal balcony that looked right out on to the street, bustling with tuk-tuks and taxis, and our air-con free room came complete with Apocalypse Now style ceiling fan.
I say our window opened on to the balcony, fell on to the balcony would be more accurate. In fact it was only the slide across mosquito net protecting us from anyone who happened to stroll out on to the balcony. Late one night, while we were lying awake listening to the soothing off key wailing of the band in the club across the road, so loud that it made the door shake, two obscenely drunk Scotsmen crashed on to the balcony and proceeded to smoke and shout almost totally unintelligibly about girls.
Our first stop in Bangkok was to check out the legendary Khao San road, Mecca for backpackers everywhere. By day it doesn't look like much, a quiet 300 yards of bars, t-shirt stands and over keen taxi drivers, at night however the transformation is incredible. All the bars jump forwards out of the shop fronts and rows of plastic chairs and tables line the street. Music blares, every sign is lit up (and there are hundreds of them) and made-up girls wave cheap drinks boards in your face. All over the road people hawk their goods, food, fake designer handbags and musical instruments that sound like frogs. On top of this, men constantly offer you tuk-tuk rides to ping pong shows and make revoltingly ominous popping noises.

Fooooooood

One of the best things about Bangkok is the food. From the moment we got there we started pigging out on the street food and by the end of our three nights we knew the best stalls. We mostly ate Pad Thai, the country's national dish, which is a simple combination of noodles, beansprouts, spring onion and some delicious combination of spices. Keen to avoid food poisoning in our first week we opted for the egg option over chicken or prawn and being more manly than I am Theo would smother his in chili.
Our second dish of choice was of course banana pancakes, or rottis. These are made from balls of rubbery, play-dough like stuff that the stall owner works into a big circle with their hands before frying in butter. While cooking they chop the fresh banana into the middle and fold the edges of the rotti over into a square before flipping. Once cooked it is drowned in chocolate sauce and condensed milk. Lose weight in Asia my foot. We ate on the plastic chairs set out by the smiley ladies working on the mobile stalls. It was amazing watching them standing over the boiling hot stalls in thirty degree heat, wearing considerably more clothes than we were. They cooked with both hands while still chatting on the phone.

What Wat?

On our third day we finally got around to doing some proper sight-seeing and walked down to Wat Phra Kaew and the Grand Palace. Phra Kaew is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Bangkok. It consists of a huge temple complex, home to the Emerald Buddha, and the former residence of the Thai monarch. The place was rammed with package tourists. We were done up in thick sarongs and shirts so as not to offend Buddists making pilgrimage to the temple and I almost died from the heat. The temple was just as over whelming as the heat. The buildings were packed in together and everything was gilded and coloured and sparkling. Every inch was gaudy and ostentatious and blinded you with its brilliance. We walked through, shoving our way through tour groups, stumbled past the Grand Palace and made our escape.
Our next stop, Wat Pho, is a smaller cousin of Phra Kaew, and it couldn't be more different. Plants and waterfalls are mixed in with the spires and endless Buddha-lined courtyards to create something far more akin with my idea of a holy place. It was quiet and sacred, until we were terrified out of our reverie by some squabbling cats. Having heard the story of the woman struck by rabies before we left we've been on red alert animal wise. What that means is that every time we see a cat or dog (which is often) Theo shouts "Rabies!" and we make hissing noises/flee. So you can imagine our response when we heard a horrific yowling and two skinny, mangy cats shot through a narrow doorway straight at us. Theo backed up against the wall and I was almost halfway up a pillar, both of us screaming "AARRRRR! RABIES!"
Once we had calmed down we went to see the main attraction of Wat Pho, the reclining Buddha. Now you can tell your brain that what you're about to see is a golden Buddha, 46m long and 15m high, but that still won't stop it making your face do goldfish impressions when you actually do.
Reclining as he enters Nirvana this Buddha barely fits in the temple, which surely must have been built around him. He is absolutely vast and just a little awe inspiring, even when you're stood next to his toes. The soles of his feet are inlaid with mother of pearl scenes of, you've guessed it, more Buddhas.

An enormous coconut

Bangkok is a strange and confusing place. Amidst the over whelming Wats and the bustling, hot, noisy street markets there is virtually no time to breathe, and yet somehow you wander from place to place at your ease, riding in tuk-tuks or sitting in the shade and drinking the cool innards of an enormous coconut.

The author - Khao San Road

In a way it is easy to be disgusted by the Bangkok the tourists have created; the western music and the cheap, strong alcohol, not to mention the very un-Thai tiny clothes on sale. There is so much going on here that is just openly illegal; people sell fake IDs and diplomas in the street while one bar has its staff wear t-shirts that say "we don't check ID cards". Everywhere the locals make their livings by supplying the demands of the debauched westerners and yet there is so much to enjoy here too. The people here are always chatting and laughing while they work. They're easy going and helpful and will always stop to wave at a child staring with wonder at their stall. It may be a little bit disheartening to see how some tourists behave but all in all Bangkok is the best place to start an adventure, to start feeling like a real backpacker. 

Administrative Information - All Change!

Just a quick note to my avid readers (I'm sure those that read my blog will know this anyway) This blog is about to become, for the next two and a half months, a travel blog documenting my journey around Northern Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. My summer travels will be undertaken with my esteemed sidekick Theo, about whom I'm sure you will learn much. Thanks for reading, and keeping checking for lengthy but sporadic updates.
Emma