Khao Yai, Bangkok, Kanchanaburi
Trip Start
Apr 30, 2004
1
19
88
Trip End
Jan 28, 2005
Bangkok,
Thailand
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Pre match nerves waken me at 01.35, I dress and slip out quietly. No sign of Mr Ni and at kick off time, there's still no sign. All the lights are off. Don't panic Mr Mannering. Next door, somebody is watching the football, it's security glass so I can only make out colours, it's definitely football, I subconciously ask myself if England vs Portugal Euro 2004 1/4 final, warrants me knocking on a complete strangers door at 0455 in the morning and asking in a foreign language - "do you mind if I come in and watch the football with you?". Yes, I tell myself it does. Mr Ni saves hus neighbour, in the knick of time and waves me in. He'd fallen asleep in front of the TV, lying in his hammock. He gets me a stool to sit on and casually informs me that England are 1-0 up, Michael Owen. Get in. Mr Ni's TV had seen better days and I would guess, alot of them, it's a 14" portable with horizontal lines on the picture that move up the screen slowly but continuously. Every ten minutes or so Mr Ni extracates himself from his hammock, to fine tune the TV, with a good hard slap. Unfortunately Englands performance mirrors that of the TV, poor and intermittent. Mr Ni, fittingly with England playing, makes us tea at half time. More deep, defensive, negativity leads to the desrved and inevitable equalizer, and to be honest with the Chuckle brothers (Nevilles) on the pitch and Empty Vessel up front, it was a miracle we equalized in extra time. Penalties though, mean only one thing, defeat. It's a deas cert, that one or maybe two of Englands highly paid stars, with 3 lions on their shirt, Land of Hope and Glory ringing in their ears and a Nations sporting hopes resting on their shoulders, will make a complete arse of it and balloon it over the bar. Enter Mr Beckham. In an instant his golden balls turned to shrivelled prunes.
I thanked Mr Ni profusely for inviting me into his home to watch the football at such an unearthly hour and trudged back to bed at 04.30am. My match report to Rene was short - "It went to penalties". Even Rene knew what that meant.
At 7.45am we're having one of Mrs Ni's lovely omellettes and saying goodbye to Mr Ni who's off on another tour. So if you're heading to Bangkok and want to get out of the heat and pollution for a day or two and take in a world class National Park, with a world class guide and stay at a comfortable and very friendly guest house, get in touch with:
Green Leaf Guesthouse and Tour
Tel: 044-365073
www.greenleaftour.com
email: birdman-nine@hotmail.com
Our bus back to Bangkok takes 2 1/2 hours and costs 85 Baht each (1.10). We book a trip for tomorrow with helium Tom and then filled our afternoon sightseeing and chatting casually in Thai with locals. Sorry, no we didn't, I'm thinking of someone else, what we actually did was walk around a bit, get hot and bothered and stop and have a banana / pineapple shake, not sure how but that took most of the afternoon.
Everywhere else, I have to admit, we are fairly speedy tourists. Not in the league of Americans who do Scotland in a day but we don't like to hang about in our search for the moon on a stick. In Bangkok though, we've turned into tourist sloths. THe opressive heat and humidity, the traffic, the noise and pollution, all combine to numb our senses into a zombie state which we're finding difficult to snap out of.
We figure that a non bargain basement dinner might help, so at 6pm we catch a boat down river to Central Pier and then ride the sky train, which is fast, quiet and cheap, for 3 stops until we reach the Central Business District, where we have the name of a good Italian restaurant, we're drooling at the prospect of good pasta. We realise though, we've left the card with the name and address of this place back in our room. Doh! So we start wandering around looking for an Italian restaurant called Papa....? At some point we took a wrong turn, through an open door to our left, scantily clad (topless) ladies? seem to be sliding up and down poles. Non of them look vaguely Italian, although it was hard to tell until I stopped and had a proper look. To our left a short, stocky man asks me if I'd like free sex, I don't think he meant with him but we move on anyway only to be confronted by a lady with an impressively large adams apple who looks like Phil Oakey from the Human League. She wants us to follow her to watch some 'Pussy Ping Pong', we know their can only be cruelty involved in training cats to play table tennis and we want no part in it, it's the last straw, so we turn round and try another street. On the verge of giving up we stumble upon a lovely mid priced Italian called Pola Pola (maybe Polla Polla) where we had gorgeous pasta and salads. We are both full as an egg as we taxi back to Khao San Road land.
Expenses (Thai Baht 70 / pund): bus 170, taxi 85, room 400, lunch 245, tour 1200, internet 120, boat 20, sky train 40, dinner 1094.50, tshirt 300.
Day 58 - Sat 26 June
Construction of the Death Railway between Burma and Thailand began on September 16 1942 at existing stations in Thanbyuzayat, Burma and Nong Pladuk, Thailiand. The Japanese needed the railway to secure an alternative supply route for their conquest of Burma and other Asian countries to the West. Much of the railway was built in very difficult terrain that required high bridges and deep mountain cuttings. The Japanese engineers estimated it would take 5 year to complete, the Japanese army however had speedier ideas and forced the Prisoners of War to complete the 415km railway in just 16 months. The allied POWs along with the labourers (coolies) were treated brutally and kept in the most appalling conditions. By the time the two rails joined, 37km south of Three Pagodas Pass, an estimated 16,000 allied POWs had lost their lives, which is horrifying, but unbelievably, the figures for the labourers, mainly from Thailiand, Burma, Malaysia and Indonesia are even worse. It's thought between 90 - 100,000 coolies died in the area.
A small part of the Death Railway, but the most famous part is the 'Bridge over the River Kwai'. The first bridge, which was wooden, the one shown in the film, was completed in February 1943. It was replaced in April of the same year by a steel bridge. In 1945 the bridge was bombed several times and only replaced after the war.
Hundreds of POWs were forced to stand on the bridge during the final bombing in a desperate attempt to deter the attack. The bombers, under strict orders, destroyed the bridge and everybody on it.
High on our list of 'must see and do' in SE Asia was a visit to Kanchanaburi and the opportunity to pay our respects at the Allied War Cemetries, see the Bridge on the River Kwai and travel part of the Death Railway. The tour we booked seemed ideal, everything we wanted to see or do, without any of the usual 'crocodile farm' nonsense.
Helium Tom told us 'tour' like no others' and he was spot on.
Visiting a cemetry, a museum, a bridge and a railway can't be that difficult to organise, but these jokers made it as complicated as molecular physics.
The minibus picked us up at 7am, we drove to Kho San Road and parked up behind four other minibuses also heading to Kanchanaburi. Some were going trekking, some rafting, etc., etc. Thirty minutes later after playing several rounds of musical minibuses we set off again, our driver looks and drives like he's on acid, he's hallucinating he's Michael Schumacher, but he's driving like Norman Wisdom on fast forward. Despite his seat gripping attempt to make up time, he didn't and on arrival we're half an hour behind some invisible schedule. With a completely straight face he tells us we now have only 15 minutes to llok round the Kanchanaburi Allied War Cemetry. I kind of politely asked him if he'd made a mistake, but his eyes had already glazed over and noone was home.
It's impossible, unless you have no heart and soul, not to be deeply moved in a war cemetry. Kanchanburi War Cemetry (Chung Kai War Cemetry is nearby) is lovingly cared for, the lawns are manicured and inbetween each of the thousands upon thousands of burial plaques, flowers are growing. It's a beautiful but sombre place. It's the burial plaques, or more to the point the information on them that moves you. Seeing each mans name, rank and number, as well as who he sereved with, date of death, age and a small epitaph from his family, changes a stastic into a person in an instant, and compels you to read each one. We can't begin to imagine the horrors all these young men, a long way from home, must have endured, so paying your respect to them all, is the least we can do.
7619117 CRAFTSMAN
D.C.FROST
16TH OCTOBER 1943 AGED 25
R.I.P IN PROUD AND LOVING MEMORY OF OUR
DEAR DOUGLAS. WIFE, MOTHER AND FAMILY
This one caught my eye because he was a craftsman. There were 16,000 others.
After more confusion and delays we arrive at the WWII Museum and told we have 40 minutes to llok round. 20 would have done, as to be honest, it's not very good at all. I presumed after seeing the immaculate cemetry and knowing how many visitors they get here, the museum would be top notch, reflecting the magnitude of the Death Railway and recording for future generations exactly what happened. Well it isn't and it doesn't. The photograph showing Hitler shaking hands with several of his SS Generals, with the caption underneath saying 'Hitler and Eva getting married' summed it up really.
Back outside and another 40 minutes is wasted, unbelievably they still can't figure out who's going where, this despite the fact everyone has playschool style coloured shapes stuck to thier T shirt. My kettle's starting to boil.
Back in the minibus, but not for long, having done 2 U-turns on a busy road, while talking on his mobile phone, Norman Schumacher pulls over and we wait 10 minutes. Another minibus turns up and 3 Koreans jump off and onto our bus. They hadn't been pickedup from their hotel this morning, this causing all the number problems. Muppetts!
The waterfall was memorable only for the fact that there was another monkey on a chain, pacing back and forth manically. I approached the owners, asking why they had a macaque on a chain and trying to explain how cruel it was. They laughed at my concern and said it had been there seven years, so don't worry. Oh well that's OK then.
The Death Railway train ride, 3 1/2 hours back to Kanchanaburi was next on the agenda, with lunch served onboard. As we boarded the train we were handed a polystyrene box with our lunch inside. We'd told the woman in charge we were vegetarian and she siad; 'No problem it's egg'. While we were sitting down, 3 coach loads of students from Bangkok were getting on. There were small pieces of egg in the chicken fried rice we didn't eat.
Ideally, on what is almost certainly the only trip we'll make on the Death Railway a quiet, reflective, alone with your own thoughts, type of journey would be nice.
Hundreds, and I mean hundreds (they filled the aisles and seats) of shouting, singing, chanting, banging, stomping and whisky drinking students is what we got. It sounds bad, but it was much worse than it sounds. I have absolutely no idea why they were there, they were just pissed. Two hours of full volume noise. At one point the railway is built round a cliff on stilts overlooking the river, the train stops, it's a fantastic photo opportunity, unless, like us you're sat facing the cliff face because the woman running the tour, who showed us onto the train, couldn't be arsed telling us which side to sit on.
The last 1 1/2 hours on the train, after the students had disembarked, were peaceful, it ended at Kanchanburi station having just crossed the Bridge on the River Kwai.
While the Koreans looked round the museum they'd missed earlier, we searched for for a couple of stray dogs to give our uneaten lunches to, then took the opportunity to walk across the bridge. It's fairly unspectacular, only some of the steel arches are from the original steel bridge, but you do get a good view of the river. There's a narrow walkway down the centre, if a train arrives when you're in the middle of the bridge there are areas to the sides to stand in, while it passes. It's a fairly big river and the original bridge must have been some feat of wooden engineering, considering the tools they had and the conditions they were working in.
Another sorrowful sight greets us as we're all sat outside the museum waiting for the minbus back to Bangkok. This time it's a baby elephant with his master. On approaching a tourist, the elephant takes a plastic bag with a banana in it off his master, then passes it to the toursit with his trunk. The tourist is then meant ot take out the banana to fee the elephant, put money in the bag and the elephant gives the bag back to his master. The baby elephant the ncrosses his front legs and curtsies before moving on to the next tourist. Every other person on our minibus bought the food, had their picture taken, said how lovely and isn't cute how it curtsies. No one questioned why this baby elephant was walking up and down traffic filled streets all day, or the fact that maybe it hadn't been born with the ability to curtsie. Numpties one and all.
It's estimated there are around 3000 wild asian elephants 2000 domesticated asian elephants in Thailiand. The domesticated elephants were traditionally trained for work on farms and in the jungle, pushing, carrying and piling logs. Working elephants have a career of about 50 years. Thai law requires that elephants be retired and released into the wild at 61. They often live to be 80+.
The 1989 ban on logging in Thailand means there is a much reduced demand for trained elephants. The fate of unemployed elephants has become an issue of National concern, they are often neglected, mistreated or abandoned by owners who can't afford to look after them. Unemployed elephants also means unemployed mahouts, these mahouts have started moving with their elephants to large Thai cities, including Bangkik, earning money as explained earlier. In 1998 an elephant died in Bangkok after getting one of its legs caught in a sewer culvert. Elephant conservation experts are urging tourists not to feed elephants in towns and cities.
Ivory trade poaching and forest destruction mean the Asian Elephant is now officially classified as an endangered species.
On the death defying stunt ride back to Bangkok we discover that some of the other passengers paid 400 baht for their poor tour, while we paid 600 baht. We worked out that we'd lost about 2 hours today, waiting and faffing about, due to a complete lack of organisation. time we could have spent in the cemetry. Add to this the lack of lunch and the cost differential and we weren't best pleased.
Rene calmly explained our dissatisfaction to Helium Tom and that we hoped he could see fit to refund the 200 baht each price difference. He must have inhaled deeply on his balloon cause he went off on one trying to explain the unexplainable. I did my best to stay calm, but my best just wasn't good enough, so he got a Moffitt style ear bashing. He wasn't slightly bothered the tour had been crap and all he kept saying was "If not happy go police".
So if you're staying at the very nice Chart Guest House, don't use the travel agebt. Helium Tom becomes Tom He Li, very quickly.
The grunge monkey travelling army has its headquarters on the Khao San Road. The price is right, so come on down. A flea ridden mattress on the floor, matchbox, with a bog at the end of the hall is available for about 80 baht in the low season, every 10 baht increase reduces the squalor. For 400 baht (6 pound) we had a large tiled, double bedded room, with balcony, en-suite with shower, toilet and sink and satelite TV. Low season means there are beds available in all price brackets.
It's freak or unique night every night in Bangkok, pull up a chair and grab a beer at one of the many pavement bars (I say bar, but the bloke has one of those drinks fridges full of cold Chang, Lao or Singha beer and a selection of small plastic chairs) and watch the parade go by. It's like watching a lack of fashion show, performed jointly by the cast of Night of The Living Dead and The Rocky Horror show. From backpackers to ladyboys, smackheads to prostitutes and beggars, they all appear, along with the local hawkers on the stray dog (didn't see many cats, but hundreds of stray dogs) walk that is Khao San Road.
This seasons must have item (if you want to look ridiculous) in the backpacker wardrobe are fishermans trousers, made of what appears to be hessian, flared and finishing half way between the knee and ankle, the look is completed with a flowing cotton top, a bandana and flip flops. Also high up on the list are huge tattoos, wooden beaded bracelets and pierced navles. Of these, so far, Rene only has a bandana, a floaty top and wooden beaded bracelet, she can't decide what tattoo to have or whether to have or navel or eyebrow pierced.
It's difficult when a hungry child or a woman with a baby holds their hands out begging, not to give them all your change, but a man we have met every night in the area around where we are staying makes it impossible for us not to give him all our change. I'll call him Bob, it'll make it easier. He's tiny, bald and looks a bit like Ghandi, he wears a blue uniform jacket, the sort brass band members wear and has a crutches in both hands. He is also the most spasticated man we have ever seen. I'm not trying to be funny or mean by using that term it just seemed to best describe his incredibly bent and twisted limbs. Every step seemed to require the most intense concentration in conjunction with unbelievable determination. His painfully slow progress is also slightly hindered by the large pewter collection tankard Bob holds in his left hand, which he does his best to thrust towards any passers by. If you have vhange in you pocket you're compelled to give it to Bob, whose perserverance, endurance and stamina in the face of such pitiful disabilities and the heat and humidity is inspirational. Bob's not shy though, he'll go to every table at a pavement bar and stand, mug in hand, till you drop something in. Everyone does. The problem with Bob is his speed, or lack of it, because he's moving so slowly you can meet him 3 or 4 times in an evening. You need lots of change or no compassion.
Expenses: Snacks 28B, Sweets 64b, dinner 500b, tea 80b, clother 400b, Bob 50b.
Day 59 - Sun 27 June
Rene spent a few hours emailing and internetting, while I took a taxi to the train station to get travel info and train timetables. They sell hot corn in a cup at the station which is delicious.
Expenses: internet 120B, Taxis 130B, Corn in a cup 20B, Water 10B, Dinner 355B, Tea and cake 140B, Bob 15B.
Day 60 - Mon 28th June
Two months in and we're about to leave Bangkok, we'll be in the Falkland Islands by Christmas.
On our last day we visit the Grand Palace and Emerald Buddha, which is Palacey and Emeraldy and also load ophotos onto the travelogue from CD, which takes an age.
We haven't hugely enjoyed Bangkok, it's been too hot and humid and the pollution is awful, every time we venture out we can taste it, it's like a carbonmonoxide candy floss. The air at home is so clean, least it was when we left, has that wanking great incerator been comissioned yet?
[Cathy's slant on Bangkok - Whilst initially I could only marvel at the muscular control and precision a game of Pussy Ping Pong must involve, I soon became overwhelmed by the underlying exploitation that was all around Bangkok. The plight of the girls and boys who participate and parade in and around the various sex shows and street corners is more than a little depressing. I can't imagine how desperate the gorgeous young girls on the arms of ageing, overwieght, visually challenged Westerners must be to escape the poverty and prostitution they find themsleves in. This seedy world may seem like a fun place for toursits to experiment in a little of the unusual but for those involved it must feel more like a prison sentence. Bangkok and its seedier side was not for me]
Our overnight sleeper to Surat Thani departs at 19.30 and armed with corn in a cup, a packet of Ritz crackers and a small bottle of Thai whisky, we leave Bangkok behind.
Expenses: Toiletries 79B, Throw 110B, Tshirts x 3 280B, Birthdays 340B, Train 906B, Lunch 400B, Taxi 37B, Beer 50B, Internet 280B, Corn 20B, fruit 30B, Whisky 110B, Snacks 65B, Taxi 61B, Post 1360B.
