bangkok – Adrian's Got The Moose

One Night in Bangkok

By the time I managed to escape Suvarnabhumi Airport and reach my hotel, it was well past midnight. All I wanted was a cold shower and sleep, but that seemed disrespectful to turn my back on Thailand’s most infamous party street without at least having one drink. I changed into shorts and flip-flops and headed to Khao San Road. It was pumping, and I did a lap, politely declining offers of booze, weed, ladyboys, and less charming suggestions of ping-pong shows. I stopped at the quiet end, at one of those stalls that were nothing more than an esky and some cheap seating, and ordered a big bottle of Chang. The beer went down quickly and easily, and I decided it was past my bedtime, so it was best to leave the party to those half my age.

Taking my preferred shortcut through Suzie Lane, a stunningly attractive African American woman hugged me, and asked where I was from. If I were drunk, I would have told her she was beautiful, but weary and all too sober, like an idiot, I headed back to my room.

I stayed one night in a hotel on Tani Street called the Secret Service, featuring Cold War-era spy equipment and movie posters.

More important to me right now was the private bathroom and air-con. I took a cold shower and shaved, and slept for five hours. In the late morning, I packed and checked out, and after coffee, I started walking towards the Grand Palace. I took a kind of metro station bypass to avoid crossing the busy road, and made a note of the people sleeping in the air-conditioning before emerging near the entrance. While the Grand Palace is very impressive, dealing with the maddening crowd was a little more than I should be expected to deal with, and I did a lap then departed.

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Get out of the way, maybe?

Heading back to Khao San, I walked along a road next to a canal. Bangkok’s poor were selling meager second-hand goods, often curled up to sleep next to their goods on blankets or, often just cardboard. Whatever money was to be had could not have amounted to much, and this was only a five-minute walk from the bars and massage shops of Khao San. Having time to kill until I needed to get to the airport, after coffee, I spent a pleasant two hours at a massage place that didn’t need pretty girls to lure people in. Feeling very loose, I spoiled the whole effect by getting motion sick in the Grab car, to the extent that I began to be concerned about cleaning fees.

Back to Bangkok

Bangkok at least felt familiar ground after Pattaya. I booked a capsule-style hostel closer to Khao San Road this time. The staff did not look like they were on day release from the nearest prison, and my fellow guests were more social than myself, and didn’t seem to be sizing up my organs for a quick sale on the black market.

On my first night I ended up on Khao San Road, drinking and watching the constant stream of tourists, taxis, and touts. The second night was Halloween, and the Thais never miss an opportunity to party, and to get tourists to party and spend their money.

One of the ladies working at the hostel made an excellent Wednesday

I promised our Wednesday that I would show up for the hostel’s rooftop party. I dutifully showed up, chatted to a few people, but declined Beer-pong. My heart was not really in it, and I slipped away.

Later I was drinking alone on Khao San Road, and things were in full swing, with both locals and Thais dressing up. Also there was a stage set up and some kind of presentation and awards, but I could not understand the broken English.

This would have been scarier if I was partaking in magic mushrooms.

On my last day in Bangkok, I took a walk to Wat Saket, ie the Golden Mount- An ancient temple based on and around Bangkok’s only hill, which is as good a reason as any to build a temple. I walked around the winding path up the hill, which gives some incredible views of the cityscape.

At the summit, there is a golden stupa, which I found fiendishly difficult to photograph.

As with most Buddhist sites, you can pay to make merit, here by buying sheets of gold leaf that you could write prayers on, and attach nearby. If I had some more money I would have considered doing the same, but in any case, I could not think of a decent prayer.

I made my way down, admiring the view, and the lotus flowers.

Continuing down, I observed a sign for Buddha’s Footprint and the Vultures of Wat Saket, which I followed. The building housing the Buddha’s footprint was unremarkable and unguarded, but the vultures proved more interesting to me.

Between 1820 and 1840, a Cholera outbreak occurred in Bangkok, and the crematorium at the wat could not keep up with the flood of bodies, leading to further outbreaks of disease, and attracted many vultures to the wat. At some point, the statues were displayed, a grim reminder of this grisly aspect of the past.

It was time to leave Bangkok. It had become impossible for me to sit down and enjoy a beer without being asked to pay up half way through, or have staff try to hurry me away, as if there was not dozens of empty tables. In addition, I had a date in Hong Kong with a South African and pancakes.

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Bangkok, Begpackers, and the Reclining Buddha

I think I only booked two nights in Bangkok to give myself a chance to recover after the twelve hours on the bus before I get on another bus to Kanchanaburi. It was not a mistake, but my choice in accommodation, forced by my budget, certainly was.

After being ransomed for two hundred Thai baht for a key deposit, I was walked over to the hostel next door, which looked nothing like the Agoda listing. This place was not so much a hostel as a flophouse, a storage place for the destitute and those with nowhere better to be. My dorm room had sixteen beds, was full both nights, and stank of dirty socks with top notes of a Frenchman’s sickly sweet vape. As far as I could tell, no one here sight-seed, worked, or did anything at all. I have stayed in dorms with people who worked, and you are barely aware they are there, this was different. Time seemed to have no meaning to the residents, spending their time in the dorm or the common room downstairs watching videos without headphones. No one was willing to meet my eyes. On the last night on my way to my room, I made the mistake of smiling at a Thai woman, and she glared at me.

That night the water supply to the hostel shut off, and people got even more anti-social as the miasma of unwashed bodies intensified. At ten o’clock the water was restored, I waited another hour lying in my bunk in my own stink before heading downstairs to the three shower stalls that serviced the thirty to forty people staying on the lower floors. I didn’t feel much cleaner, but at least I didn’t smell like nervous sweat and Bangkok grime.

I did manage to take a walk down Khao San Road, the most notorious backpacking strips in the world, featuring heavily in the movie The Beach, and often considered the spiritual heart of backpacking. But now it seems to be a more general tourist trap and party street, complete with loud house music.

That is progress I guess, but I didn’t find it as inviting as I did in 2007 when I was a first-time backpacker. Of course, it’s still loaded with tattoo studios, vendors selling drinks to walk around with (of course I partook) and stalls selling vapes, souvenirs, and smoking implements. Henna, dope, and clothing were all readily available, as well as deep-fried arachnids and insects, if you are hankering for that. There are also some upscale accommodation options that few backpackers, including myself, could afford.

The next morning after a Seven-Eleven coffee, I took a bowel-loosening motorbike taxi to Wat Pho, home to the famous Reclining Buddha.

It was constructed in 1832 by King Rama III, it’s forty-six metres long and fifteen metres high. It’s made up of a brick core, covered by plaster, then gilded. It’s impressive enough as you walk around it trying to get a handle on the size, then you realise that the soles of the feet are inlaid with Mother-of-Pearl, an incredible detail considering that the feet are considered unclean by Buddhist belief.

By ErwinMeier – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=78994574

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