Bangkok Hotels
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A Day in Bangkok
Entry 2 of 20 | show all | print this entry |
Our flight landed as smooth as silk (as Thai Airways promised). I paused at the door and subconsciously ducked through, like in the movies where famous or powerful people almost bow out of the plane door, before pausing at the top of the stairs leading to the tarmac. I wanted to remember this moment - stepping into a new culture. It was a steamy and humid night. As soon as I stepped from the plane and onto the stairs I was hit by a bank of humidity. It was saying that once I crossed it, I would be in the real Thailand.
Awaiting at the bottom of the stairs were scores of buses to take us to the terminal. I stepped onto the low floor bus and stood against the window, holding a handrail for support. Our bus was the first to leave and our driver managed to squeeze onto the airport road which was exceptionally busy for 10:50pm on a Friday night. 24 hour city.
We passed masses of cargo boxes and workers in little airport workshops on the left and row upon row of aeroplanes on the right. It was quite a distance to the terminal, but upon arrival the airport was surprisingly compact.
Nicole had been told that there were no signs in English at the airport, however this was not the case. Everything was signposted in English which made it very easy to find our way to the immigration desks and then down to the baggage carousel.
The airport was deserted when we arrived and we were the second in line to go through immigration. My passport received its very first stamp! A sharp thrill coursed through my body and I had a goofy smile on my face. After collecting our baggage from the carousel, we went through the green 'no items to declare' customs gate where our declaration form was taken with a smile and no questions.
Walking out of the airport was almost glamorous! There were so many people lined up on either side, holding signs, flailing their arms and screaming that I felt as though I should be walking on red carpet.
As we exited the terminal we managed to find the airport bus with no trouble at all and soon had tickets on the A2 airport bus route. We waited 10 minutes for our bus to arrive and were then on our way into the city.
We took the expressway which is just one big straight road, high above the city. There appeared to be no speed limit and our bus was cruising pretty close to 100kmph, yet was being passed at excessive speeds by taxis, cars and vans.
Billboards along the expressway advertised flights to neighbouring countries, one particular campaign was for Cambodia. On one side of the billboard the copy was written in English and on the other side it was in Thai. This was an environment where foreign words stand out and on our way in I realised the importance of international marketing and knowing what your brand name translates to.
We had to walk a couple of blocks to our hotel, past stall holders who were shutting up their stalls. When we got to Asia Hotel we had to wait for a group booking to check in before we could announce our arrival and finally go upstairs and crash on the bed. We waited by the porter's trolley, laden with luggage, for a large group of Singaporean university students to complete their check in papers. One guy was trying to organise them all, but really it was quite a shemozzle. We ended up being beckoned to an end of the counter that the students hadn't commandeered and quickly filled in our slips.
We woke up early and looked out at the city picking up pace. Stalls were assembling, tuk tuks driving past, market umbrellas were opening, a stove started to smoke, utensils laid out on a small table.
The day started well with a great breakfast buffet (as promised by the travel agency). We then decided to walk to Hua Lamphong train station which only looked a couple of blocks away on the map.
We started off, packs on our back, down a small soi (street) running beside the hotel, managing to dodge taxi drivers outside the hotel trying to take us to the train station for 50B. The street was fairly narrow and the footpaths too were narrow. Even more so when stalls were set up outside homes. We passed motorcycle mechanics, eateries, chemists, junk yard shops, TV fixers, all in little tiny shops that you couldn't swing a cat in. Drains were every two steps along the paths, sometimes tripping the unwary. Paths in Bangkok are not all what they seem. Many are crumbling and wonky. Paving has fallen into water eroded channels and everything is uneven. There are lots of workmen on the footpaths - fixing up many. There are also the gutter sweepers who have big stick brooms that are unexpectedly effective. All wear face masks - workmen, sweepers, the taxi attendants at Queen Sirikit Convention Centre.
My chest felt tight when I left the hotel - but I became accustomed to the humidity and haze fairly quickly.
We wound our way closer to the station and walked along the canals which make the Yarra look like drinking water in comparison. Nicole commented on the smell but I couldn't detect too much stench on top of the normal river smell - same as the Murray. The surface was oily with a greasy rainbow slick floating gently downstream at a pace more reminiscent of a stagnated pool. We stopped by the river under a tree and rested our backpacks on a wooden bench. The promenade area was deserted except for another fellow sleeping on his back on another bench just a short way off.
We entered the train station from the side entrance. Lots of bus bays were crammed with people, some standing holding their bags, some squatting beside the kerb - all waiting for a bus. We had to cross through a taxi rank which pulled up at the doors to the station.
As we entered the station we were accosted by roving information desk attendants whose prime duty was to seek out farang (foreigners) and pounce on them, preferably before they have taken two steps into the terminal. We were hustled to an information desk conveniently located in the centre of the concourse which we would have had to pass it anyway. A man asked us where we wanted to go. Upon stating Surat Thani - overnight sleeper, we were told "Booked out. For next 2 - 3 days. Thai school holidays." The bus, we were told, was the best option - shorter too, 12 hours, not 14.
An escort was called to take us to the bus booking office, located on the mezzanine level of the train station. Numerous agencies lined the balcony and on the other side of the station's mezzanine level were restaurants and cafes. We were left at an agency, and I'm sure our escort gave the available operator a wink and nod. He asked us where we were going and didn't look very encouraging when we said we would really like to go by train. I mean, after a nine hour flight we didn't relish a cramped overnight bus ride the very next day. Thanking him for his help and promising to 'think it over' we hastily departed.
Booking our second class sleeper tickets on the overnight train to Surat Thani wasn't as difficult as we were led to believe. Back on the main concourse we spotted the real train information desk and then hiding in a corner a sign saying Advance Bookings. We entered the airconditioned booking office. Rows of plastic seats faced the counter and we walked in towards a seat. An available teller beckoned to us and asked where and when we wanted to go. He showed us a timetable which also listed prices.
We found out that two upper sleepers were available on the 5:30pm train to Surat Thani and beyond. We paid the equivalent of $25 for our tickets printed in Thai and hoped that they said the right thing. Upon exiting we discovered that we were supposed to take a ticket and wait for our number to appear on the LCD screen.
By the time we had booked our tickets, our packs were heavy, so after booking our tickets and making a swift call home to say that we'd arrived okay, we left them at the train station to await our return for the 5:05pm train.
Needing to book our plane ticket from Koh Samui to Bangkok after the Full Moon Party, we decided to head to the Bangkok Airways office at Queen Sirikit Convention Centre and book it directly with them. We had lots of time to kill in Bangkok and we didn't very well want to be ripped off on our first day in a foreign country - it wouldn't have boded well for the rest of the trip.
Exiting the train station we were pounced upon by a woman whose sole mission was to drag us, willingly or unwillingly to a travel agency around the corner. She asked what was to become a smooth repertoire of "Where you want to go" which was soon followed by "Where are you from? Ohh, Australia" with a nod of her head and smile.
Instead of showing us to the taxi and pointing us down the right street (which I knew from the map was Rama IV Thanon) she took us past taxi drivers and tuk tuks to the TAT office and pointed us to a seat. We were then given much propaganda and had a person (it looked as though his name was Ao from the recommendation - by an Australian - written on the counter) begin to plan our whole trip. He wrote down all the days we would be staying and started to write things we didn't even want to do, like a three day trek, beside the days.
I started to get tetchy as I already knew what we wanted to do. We had a skeleton but there was no need to flesh it out on our first morning in Bangkok. We thanked him for his time and told him we would think about it, the phrase becoming a favourite exit line.
We left the TAT office and a tuk tuk driver approached us, asked where we wanted to go and how much. Before I could open my mouth and say 40B, Nicole said 20B. He said okay and led us to his tuk tuk. We climbed in the back and he disappeared for a moment, came back and said "20B, will do it if we stop here (he pointed to a spot on our map), you wait for me for 10 minutes and I take you here (to Queen Sirikit Convention Centre)." He pulled out a dog eared laminated card from his wallet which read 'Cupon' and had an Esso logo on it. It said he would get 5L of free gas. We said "no" that we wanted to go straight to the Convention Centre. He said, "Cost 150B" so we said no again, shaking our heads and got out of the tuk tuk. He kept saying, "Long way - do you know Bangkok: Long way."
Dragging our bags out of the tuk tuk, we walked back across the road to the train station but made the mistake of sitting in front of the station where the same tuk tuk driver came up to us about three more times, muscling in and pointing at our map. We were also collared by the TAT information kidnapper again and told her we were thinking about Ao's itinerary. Sick of being hassled more ferociously than when we had entered via the back way, we moved back into the station which instantly became a safe haven from touts. We extracted some cash from the ATM, intrigued to see our balances in baht, and then decided to catch a taxi to the Convention Centre. Pointing at maps and saying Queen Sirikit Convention Centre didn't seem to help the driver - although it was only a straight drive down Rama IV Thanon. I said hopefully "Lumphini Park?" and pointed to it and then the Convention Centre. The driver then seemed to understand and pulled into the traffic. I was following our progress on the map and noted that he had turned too soon - along Ratchadamri Road beside Lumphini Park. Worried where we might end up, I then brought this to his attention and he studied the map more thoroughly and said "Oh, oh, Sirikit (in a different pronunciation to mine) Madam King Sirikit!" He finally understood where we were going and did a U-turn. Although a little roundabout, we got there for 75B. So much for the tuk tuk driver's 150B quote! We passed a huge night market of empty stalls where Heineken was set up for Thai Oktoberfest.
We got out of the taxi and disappeared amidst thousands of Thais. Not aware that the Bangkok Airways office was actually inside the centre, we asked at the information desk and were given some directions. These directions still managed to get us lost in the biggest, most well attended book fair I had ever seen. Thousands of Thais were purchasing books in a spectrum of languages. Large food courts fed everyone. The ATM and toilet queues were amazingly long. Thousands of Thai and only two farang! We stood out but I didn't feel as if people were staring at me. Unable to find Bangkok Airways, we asked security at another exit who pointed us in the right direction and this time we were able to find it easily. Despite the thousands of people around, there was only one service officer, but surprisingly no other customers. We purchased our tickets from a very professional officer who apologised when he received a call from his girlfriend on his mobile. With our tickets secured in our moneybelts we wound our way back through the exhibition space towards the exit.
As we walked towards the exit where streams of people continued to enter the cool exhibition centre from the fumey car drop off point, Nicole decided to make use of the centre's toilet facilities. I waited outside and watched families walk past and other people enter the toilets. I almost thought that Nicole had disappeared down the toilet when she finally reappeared with a look on her face that said `never again'.
Nicole was in need of some cool, calming greenery (and so was I) so we decided to stop off in Lumphini Park for a rest. It didn't seem very far so we took our chances at walking. It ended up being quite a distance, walking past many little shops and streets lined with humpies and rubbish, children darting in and out of them. We passed vendors selling Coke in plastic bags and lots of workmen. Workmen all over the world are all the same. We received many stares and wolf whistles as we walked past with our heads down.
The traffic in Bangkok is treacherous. There are so many lanes of traffic and vehicles will move across lanes sans blinker and head check, left, right and centre. Horns are used frequently to chastise and hurry up other drivers, and also by taxi and tuk tuk drivers to attract potential passengers. I have long felt that I will get hit by a car, and now I'm sure that Bangkok could be the place. Pedestrian crossings do exist but require either a) some thought and watch prior to crossing or b) no fear at all.
Waiting on a street corner, garnering courage to cross the road, we witnessed a minor accident where a woman used the car in front of her as a bumper buffer. I am very surprised we didn't see more accidents.
We neared Lumphini Park and finally figured out how to cross the road to get to the entrance. We stepped past the vendors, over a steel bar and in through the gates. Inside it was beautiful and green against a backdrop of skyscrapers. We walked over to the lake and sat down for a quiet rest in the shade. Little motorised boats were out on the lake and there was a picnic area next to us.
I took this break as an opportunity to inspect my feet and take off the restrictive bindings that were my cheap Target sandals. On spying them for $25 I thought they would make good travelling sandals and bought them. Showing them off at home as a great bargain I was ridiculed with gusto by my housemates Bec and Betto. Granted, they didn't look hugely fashionable (if only brown school sandals were in style...) but I argued that they were comfy. That's not what my feet were screaming at me at that precise moment. Large red blisters appeared on my feet in every possible spot in contact with my sandals. Lamenting my poor footwear choice to my podiatrist companion, I put my sandals back on, but only after reassurance of a little professional TLC when we collected our backpacks.
On our way back through the park we passed the weightlifting area mentioned in our guidebook. It was quite hilarious as guys were in there, topless, lifting weights to Thai pop music blaring from a ghetto blaster. They were laughing and jocking around, watching their muscles flex in the mirrors.
Due to my mangled feet we caught a taxi back to the train station. First we had lined up at the bus stop across the road from Lumphini Park, but missed our bus so we got a taxi instead. Again there were more language barriers and he first thought we wanted to go to the bus station, but he eventually understood when I kept repeating Hua Lamphong.
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