Thailand - Last Leg

Thailand: Last Leg Of Our Round The World Trip

We flew into Bangkok and took a taxi to the Viva Garden Hotel, situated about 15 miles out of the city. The landscape, from the little shanty type villages and towns along the route were not unlike Kuala Lumpur. I'm sure the locals of both countries would disagree but that's how it appeared to me. We were welcomed into the unexpectedly posh hotel and taken up to our room that had a balcony and little kitchenette which we were delighted with. We'd been advised to buy our drinking water from any 711 – to avoid getting stomach upsets. In the refrigerator they'd left us bottled water. The staff were extremely courteous. The concierge, who spoke fairly good English, appeared to have many jobs, from carrying bags to booking trips and tours. He was a chubby bloke and his uniform wouldn't have looked out of place in a good old British panto. Basic brown, trimmed with gold brocade and epaulettes and to top it all off a little pill box hat. We christened him, affectionately, Buttons. Ray made the huge mistake of tipping Buttons when he brought up our bags with the equivalent of half a weeks wage. Another currency clanger. Over the next couple of days in order to avoid his unwanted attention we sidled out the back door, crept around by the pool and waited until his back was turned to rush through the reception area to make our escape. Like a meerkat he was on full alert and became a complete and utter pain in the arse. 

We booked a guide to take us on a tour of the Temples and he arrived bright and early with an air conditioned taxi. The young man spoke very good English and spent the next five hours doing just that, talking non stop. On the journey to the first temple he regaled us with his own history, where he'd come from, where his family came from, they were peasant farmers and that was all hugely interesting. 

The heat was oppressive. We had to pay a small entrance fee to get into the Temple of the Golden Buddha, which was impressive, standing several metres high. Our guide gave us a detailed history. I'd worn a skirt, so as not to offend by turning up in the wrong shorts or trousers but I was wearing a sleeveless top (wrong) due to the scorching temperature. The temples are equipped for every eventuality and at the entrance there were women on hand to take your money and allow you to dip into a basket of clothes they offer to unsuitably clad tourists. I was given a cotton shawl type thing to cover up my shoulders and arms. Also, we had to remove our shoes, which was fine. I wandered into the temple where some people were on their knees praying before a flower adorned alter. My view was interrupted when this huge bloke stood in front of me. Glancing down I noted that his feet were something to behold and had to smile to myself. If anybody was offending Buddha’s eyes surely it would have been him with his mis-shapen, disgusting trotters and a beer-belly hanging out of his Hawaiian shirt, and not me with my slim shoulders and slightly flabby upper arms. Perhaps Buddha doesn't take into account the whole person!

This country has hawkers on every corner and when we came out of the Temple a dodgy looking bloke masquerading as a photographer came up to us trying to flog a tacky badge with a picture of us in it. We hadn't asked for it. The guide advised us to give him half of what he asks for and seemed reluctant to get involved. He did tell us later that they wouldn't think twice about beating him up. We did as he suggested.  We spent the next couple of hours in and out of temples and for the most part it was fascinating but it was just so hot. Most of the Buddha statues were covered in gold leaf. The huge Buddha was made of solid gold and had been found buried some seven hundred years ago but nobody knew where it had been made or by whom!

A few monks in orange robes were in evidence around the temples. Our guide told us that every young man, as part of their Buddhist faith, was expected to spend some time in a monastery. The length of time you spent there very much depended upon your station in life. If your parents are poor and need you to work on the land then you might only have to attend for one week. If your parents can afford it you might be sent for six months or a year. You lead a life of frugality and prayer. He said that his mother was keen for him and his two brothers to attend to ensure her passage into the afterlife. He explained. Once she dies she will have to go into somewhere like limbo and wait for the passing of one of her sons; he then guarantees her admission into the promised land or whatever their equivalent is. Like all religions it's man made and leaning fairly heavily to the male of the species. I did light an incense burner and say a prayer for my mum and dad and Ray's mum, which I usually do whenever I'm in a church and not because I believe in any higher deity in particular. But, you never know.

On route back to the hotel we were taken to a gold shop, stuffed full of expensive jewellery and then to a place where you could have a suit made. We didn't particularly want to go to either but I guessed that the guide was getting a back hander to deliver unsuspecting tourists. The guy in the suit shop, doing all the talking, was an English/Asian and even if I'd wanted a suit I wouldn't have bought it there. He was so pushy and quite rude.

Back to the hotel and we had something to eat and a very pleasant swim in the pool. Ray was keen to go the Bridge on the River Kwai the next day, but it was quite far. We looked at our various options. We could go by train or bus; unfortunately the public transport didn't look like somewhere I wanted to be trapped in for up to three hours, along with chickens and goats, so we decided to book a guided air conditioned taxi. Buttons organised it for us and I'm sure the couple who turned up were his relatives. I think we got ripped off but the car was modern, clean and cool and that suited me fine. The previous day, although we liked our man he talked us to death. 

The journey took around two and half hours and we watched the same scenary zip by. Built up areas full of buildings and cranes and the blanched, uninteresting countryside with lots of rubber and banana trees.   Our guide, although very smiley and pleasant spoke very little on the journey and her husband doing the driving didn't speak at all, which suited me fine.  

On our way to the Bridge we stopped off at the famous Floating Markets, well advertised and somewhere 'you should go.' We were dropped at the busy market area and our guide bustled us through several stalls to the riverside where our boat was waiting. We were shown to a canoe type boat and the man rowing paddled us away through the floating stalls, which are set up so that you can approach them quite easily. The goods were mostly over priced bric-a-brac that you could live without. The stall owners, many of them elderly women who didn't look short of a few quid, with nice hair styles, good clothes and faces made up, sat with a big hook and if they saw a boat passing with likely customers (mugs) they hooked you in. When you said you didn't want anything they were visibly annoyed. Other boats had 6-8 people in and were powered with huge outboard engines; Ray pointed out that they were actually car engines, so the whole place was noisy and a bit smelly with petrol fumes belching out. I bought a few items, cheap souvenirs and again knew that I'd been ripped off.

When we got off the boat our guide was no where to be seen and I was desperate for the toilet. We wandered around the land market and finally discovered a woman with a table on which sat a bucket for money and a few toilet rolls. She took our money and pointed to a makeshift building with a basin and tap outside. Inside the cubical there was a fairly high step with what looked like a huge basin with foot holders either side, in which to place ones feet, and a bucket of water in the corner with a big ladle, and not a toilet roll in sight. What the f....! There was nothing for it... I stepped up and carefully turned around and tried to crouch down without wetting everything in the process. Task completed I hopped down without breaking anything and proceeded to slop water into the bowl from said bucket. I left and washed my hands in the little sink outside then shook them out to dry. Ray had taken one look in his cubicle and decided he could hang on. The woman sitting at the table who'd happily taken my money smiled as I passed by and had there not been a language barrier I might have asked about the loo paper, or lack of, and the need for a sign indicating that people of a certain age may find the terrain a tad difficult.

Our guide found us and she'd bought more bottled water which we appreciated and also some sweet pastries which were actually very good. We proceeded with our journey and our next short stop was  a memorial ground dedicated to the British soldiers who'd died during World War II, many on the building of the Burma to Thailand railway. All of the memorial grounds are extremely well kept.

Bridge on the River Kwai

It was Sunday and the place was packed with a mix of nationalities. There appeared to be lots of young Thai people out enjoying their week end; they were loud and laughing while on the bridge. Ray thought they didn't seem very respectful of the place and what it represented.  Perhaps not, but then again they probably hadn't bothered to look into the history. The bridge has probably got a few of the original beams on it but it has been re-built to look more or less how it was and again it's a real money spinner.

We had our meal on the floating restaurant overlooking the river and it was fab. From the waitresses dressed in their beautiful traditional outfits to the sumptuous buffet. There really was something for everyone. The place was busy but very well catered and we enjoyed our lunch and pleased that we could at last get a taste of Thailand from the aromatic rice to the spicy meats and sweet sweet deserts. By the time we got back to the car we were about done in and I slept most of the way home (so did our guide).

That evening Ray said he was going to walk across the road to the 711 to get some water and a few odds and ends and I fell asleep. When he came back it was dark and it seemed he'd been gone a long time. He said it was like venturing out into the black hole of Calcutta, the whole place was teeming with people on every mode of transport imaginable and the shops were flogging everything and anything on the hot, dirty, noisy street. Our hotel was totally at odds with its surroundings. I can only imagine the land they built on was much cheaper than closer to the capital. To get to the other side of the street there was an overhead bridge, which formed part of the railway station, situated fairly close by and that proved to be the only safe method of getting across the road.

On our second afternoon we'd come back to the hotel and were just sitting on the balcony when there was an almighty bang; it sounded like a bomb had gone off. Given the area I wouldn't have been surprised. The electricity in the region had given up the ghost and we were left in the dark that evening. The staff were fantastic and couldn't do enough for us. The meals in the restaurant were complimentary as were the drinks. They did have a generator and managed to get things into action on the ground floor but our rooms didn't have any power and the only thing we were bothered about was the air con. We went to bed about 11.00 pm and noticed that poor old Buttons was running up his own behind trying to please everyone. We were in bed, sweating cobs, and around 2.00 am there was a knock at the door... Ray got up and answered it in his pants and there stood Buttons with a big fan! Now that's what you call service - but being English I'm afraid that his attention to detail had only managed to really get on my nerves. 

Next day when we checked out the staff couldn't have been more apologetic and refunded us one night's stay for all the inconvenience, which we hadn't expected. Taking a good look around as we left the hotel I wasn't in the least bit surprised that the electricity went bang... looking at the mish mash of wiring threading it's way in and out of crumbling buildings and the thick bundles of cables strung between telegraph poles , not ten feet above your head, would have been enough to send any self respecting electrician into melt down. Dangerous wasn't the word. 

Our brief encounter with Thailand probably didn't do it justice for us, probably because  by that time we were a little weary and just wanted to get home.

The flight home passed without incidence. We were on one of the double decker sky buses. Arriving back to the gloom of a cold November morning at Heathrow Airport was quite welcoming. We hired a car to drive back to Cornwall and arrived in Newlyn late that afternoon. Our little house was still standing and all I wanted to do was get into my own bed and sleep, which I did. 

To say we'd had a wonderful journey doesn't come close but the best thing of all was getting to see Charlotte for an extended period and take time to get to know her lovely boyfriend, Brian. We've spent the winter harking back to our adventures and we've enjoyed that too. I'm almost certain that we shall be heading down under again in the not too distant future.

Malaysia

Because we'd been so fired up with 'going to Australia' we probably didn't do too much reading up on Malaysia. The flight was on time and passed without incidence. Expecting to be met at the airport by 'someone' we passed through the exit and scanned the crowd of waiting taxi drivers to see if our name appeared on one of their hand held notice boards. We were in luck and quickly found our man who escorted us out of the airport. He was very polite, spoke some English but he was so poorly dressed my heart went out to him; his suit would have been rejected by any charity shop and as we followed behind him I noticed his shoes were so down at heel and ill fitting it affected how he walked. We'd discussed tipping and Ray was adamant that in Malaysia and Thailand locals would be offended by any gesture of tipping. I thought I'd chance it and when we got to the taxi I gave our man R20 … that's about £3.00. He didn't appear offended, quite the contrary, he seemed pleased and stopped to chat to our taxi driver (they obviously knew one another) before we departed on the one hour drive to our hotel. The taxi driver talked non-stop, advising us where to go, who to trust (no one apparently) and where to keep our cash. After a while I switched off and stared out through the window at the sprawling countryside sitting either side of the busy highway. Kuala Lumpur's road system appears to be fairly well maintained but is completely mental. The whole place is awash with bikes, scooters, mopeds and anything that moves on two wheels and they don't seem to care how close they get. I lost count of the near misses and kept wincing, waiting for the inevitable crash. When we got to our destination Ray decided he should give our taxi man a tip, no doubt his mate had given him the nod that we were okay! Unfortunately, due to our lack of currency knowledge Ray gave him all the local currency he'd got in his pocket, it turned out to be the equivalent of 50p (we worked it out later). The taxi driver probably called him all the tight bastards going.

Our hotel, The Angurr, was described as 'boutique.' On first viewing I'd say it was probably more tragique - A frozen in time, old colonial style hotel overlooking a building site to the side and rear..nice. However, our room situated on the ground floor was fine, complete with wifi; I sent a few emails letting people know we were still alive. After a rest we ventured out into the night looking for food, advised by the lady on reception that good local food was available at the bottom of the road, take a right turn. We did, and ended up running the gauntlet past hordes of street hawkers trying to lure us 'Europeans' into their establishments for food, trinkets and probably a whole lot more, judging by the shortness of the skirts and height of the high heels. After the pristine beauty of Australia, Malaysia was taking a bit of getting used to.

The hotel location was pretty grim. You had to constantly watch your step when out in the street because the uneven pavements were quite dangerous, not to mention the traffic. The stench from some of the street vendors is stomach churning and the general lack of hygiene is something to behold. Tired and disorientated we ended up eating in a street café and my luke warm lamb dish served up on a tin plate (that you'd feed to the dog) was truly horrible. I ate a bit of it mostly because the staff were very friendly and probably knew that we'd wandered in like aimless fools. I didn't want to end up with deli belly. The two meals and a drink cost the equivalent of £4.00.

Day 2: This started off much better and we had breakfast on the roof terrace of the hotel. Fruit, yoghurt and toast and English tea or coffee. It was fine. We walked towards the city centre, less than half and hour, which was a big mistake due to the humidity. By the time we got on the hopper bus we were knackered. The bus is great value and as I've said before it is without question the best way to see a city if you've got limited time. We paid something like £50 in LA for the tour bus. In KL we paid £15. We stopped off at the Botanical Gardens for lunch, which was busy with both tourists and local business people, always a good indication. Malaysia is a mix of of Thai and Chinese and the food reflects this. Ray had satay chicken, which he said was excellent and then he absolutely stank for the rest of the day. I had a salad of some description. My enforced diet was going very well. We got back on the bus and were taken to the Palace where the much revered Royal family live. We got to the Petronis twin towers and got off the bus to take a few pics. I don't know if we were over with travelling but the heat and the humidity were getting us down and we just wanted to go home. But, it wasn't over yet.

That evening we turned left at the top of our smelly, broken down road and found a whole selection of more 'European' type restaurants, serving food I could eat. Ray really wanted to get stuck into the local cuisine, but I think it's best to have someone along to guide you and suggest a few dishes. We found a steak place and it was great, not just with the lovely food, but the service was top notch. Half way through my meal I noted there didn't appear to be many or any women apart from myself and the men dining together were clearly in couples. A gay steak bar; we did have to pay for the privilege of the fine meal, around £40.00 but it was worth every penny.

Day 3: We went into KL and headed for a huge shopping Mall of which there seem to be many, just to get into some kind of air conditioning. The heat is unbearable. The vast malls are beautiful and would look at home in any first rate city; London, New York, Paris. But, they appeared to be empty. Barely anyone in there. Every high street name you could mention was represented and their prices were not cheap. Who were these shopping malls for? Not the local population that's for sure.

I booked myself in for a Thai Massage at our hotel in the afternoon. I tried to encourage Ray but he said he'd give it a miss. The small woman aged about 40 guided me into a darkened room with a dim light and a mattress on the floor. Nothing fancy. However, she proceeded to give me a massage the like of which I'd never experienced before and the unimaginative, dingy surroundings didn't match up to her obvious expertise in the art of massage. I believe she gave me a shiatsu massage, followed by aromatherapy. The fat owner of the hotel appeared to be running the massage business on the side and I dare say my masseuse was paid a pittance. I left her a hefty tip, discreetly.

I don't think we were in the right frame of mind to appreciate all that Kuala Lumpur had to offer but it did give us a sample of what we were about to encounter when we hit Bangkok.

　

　

　

　

　

Back In Brisbane

Back in Brisbane

Over the next couple of weeks we had some lovely days out with Charlotte and Brian and spent precious 'quality time' together. The Bar-B-Q proved a big hit and we seemed to have cracked mealtimes with myself or Ray doing the veg stuff and Brian cooking the meat.

For my birthday Charlotte had bought tickets for the theatre production of 'Strictly Ballroom' which I was delighted about. I'd loved the film and Charlotte is a real Baz Lurmann fan and he'd had some input with the stage production. We went into Brisbane, ate an early dinner, after which Ray and Brian dropped us at the theatre then went off to a race track to watch some kind of banger racing; the theatre didn't appeal to them.

Excited, we took our seats and I have to confess I'm a bit of a moaner if I don't get a good view, when tickets are so expensive. We were perfectly placed when suddenly a family arrived with two little kids, aged around 4 and 6. What the ….

Instead of putting the children between them the parents shoved them side by side next to me.. 'Noooooo' Charlotte changed seats with me and I wound myself up looking across at these adults who were totally ignoring the kids, she laughing away with a plastic glass of wine and him right at the end of the row. The children did nothing wrong, they were little kids who some moron thought would sit still through a two hour adult show. A quick look around the theatre and there wasn't another kid to be seen – just our luck. When the lights went down and the show began I was fine but Charlotte said she was going to move, which she did. The little boy, right next to her was fidgeting, talking and rattling a massive bag of sweets. How infuriating. I waited until the interval and followed Charlotte out. While shuffling past 'said parents' I pointed out that we were moving due to their noisy kids; they looked flabbergasted when I suggested that sitting their little darlings between them might have been and idea. The tickets cost over $100 each. My advice is – if you can't get a baby sitter, stay home. How inconsiderate. When everyone returned for the second half Charlotte said the husband (a thick-necked bogun full of tats) was eye-balling her for a good two minutes but she stared him out. We did get seats at little further back and I had to move again because a huge Amazonian type woman plonked herself right in front of me. I'm sure her head and hair were double the size of most normal people. Having said all that the show was absolutely brilliant. When we told the men our little tale Ray said he wasn't in the least bit surprised because 'there isn't a cinema or theatre, seemingly now in the whole world, that 'suits' Liz.' But, it really wasn't like that!

Charlotte and Brian had a long week-end and we decided to take a trip to Noosa. It's a posh little seaside place full of rich people, where they have their holiday homes and keep their boats. We'd found out quite by chance that a 'classic car' event was taking place over the week-end and Ray and Brian were keen to take a look.

Charlotte and myself went off to take a look at the little town and had lunch in one of the many outdoor cafés. Noosa has a rich history and a natural beauty that earned it the title of Queensland's first UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. There are many spectacular views of beaches, mountains, birds and marine life. The town itself was full to bursting with week-enders visiting, like us. Also, there appeared to be an army of aged, mahogany coloured folk, wearing shorts and baseball caps and taking full advantage of the fabulous weather. I guess they'd be the retirees. Who could blame them? We joined Brian and Ray later on and had a quick whiz around the classic car show; they seemed to have been in there for hours. Men and cars and machines! That afternoon we took another ferry ride to a lovely little island where we stopped off for a cool drink and agreed that Noosa would be a lovely place to live. That evening we drove out quite a few miles and found a hotel/tavern/pub to spend the night, which worked out very well because Brian wanted to watch his football team (Aussie) in their cup final and his team won, 'The Cowboys' I think.

Time was running away and one of the last trips we took with Charlotte and Brian was up to Tamborine Mountain, where they boast a sky-walk through the jungle. We took the 45 minute walk through the rainforest canopies, stopping along the way to read all the information about the flora, fauna and history of the place. Oddly, there was a plaque honouring Jack Brabham, an old time racing driver; I recognised the name but hadn't realized he was Australian. There is an astonishing 300 metres of high-tech steel bridges through the highest points of the upper canopy, and a 40 metre cantilever bridge that soars a breathtaking 30 metres above the creek and rainforest below. It wobbled a bit and if you have vertigo you might feel a bit odd. Charlotte then tells me that she has trouble getting on and off escalators. When did that happen? Aside from that we had a lovely time and again it was great just to get into the cool.

Our journey hadn't quite finished. The next leg and flight to Malaysia was leaving from the Gold Coast airport. Charlotte and Brian were going to drop us down to our motel and spend the day with us and return after dinner. But, just as I'd thought, that was going to be dragging it out and she would be getting upset. So after a walk along the beach and a coffee we said our goodbyes; all feeling a bit miserable.

Australia had been a wonderful experience and one that we hope to repeat in the not too distant future. Would we have ever made it down under if Charlotte hadn't been there? Possibly not. From the mountains to the sea to the pristine cities Australia is a land with so much to offer and a place you could easily settle into. How sad for us that it just happens to be on the other side of the world.