Hat Yai – A Bizarre Border Town

Location: Hat Yai, Thailand
NP: David Bowie – I’m Deranged
Mood: Estranged

I woke up too early again. Eight hours of sleep had eluded me for days. Sometimes it was because of a sound or a numb arm or the heat. Most of the time it was because of how I felt. The inability to sleep was my body’s way of telling me something was wrong.

This place, this city of about 200 000 inhabitants, was strange. Hat Yai they called it. It served mostly as the south’s commercial and transport hub for Bangkok-bound tourists and as a welcome to new arrivals from Malaysia. My guidebook also claims it’s an energetic border town of ethnic diversity where you might not purposefully disembark.

Well, we had.

Before the trip began we’d booked a cheap flight from Hat Yai to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia, because Thai customs might require us to have a ticket out of the country within 30 days (we don’t have a visa) as proof of your intentions to leave before you’ve overstayed your welcome. It didn’t need to be an airline ticket, which we didn’t know for certain then. Any ticket would do. Well the customs hadn’t needed to see the ticket, but Turkish Airlines did. Otherwise we would not have been allowed on the plane, despite of what their customer service claimed when I’d asked them.

For me Hat Yai was the strangest town I’d seen so far on this trip. It gave off a similar vibe as Chumphon’s bus station did at night. It felt wrong and bizarre, almost unreal.

The restaurants were strange, open places with the food on display in front and tables behind. I think you were either supposed point at the dish you wanted or gobble it up on a plate yourself as I’d seen some of the locals do. But I didn’t know for sure. So far I’d avoided them and eaten one of the spiciest dishes I’ve ever had at a pub (called The Pubb) instead.

The hotel, Ladda Guesthouse, was strange with steep stairs, low arches on passageways and disinterested staff who napped on the bench in the tiny lobby at night. Travelfish had described it as claustrophobic with dank and dark rooms. There was no wifi, no complimentary water and most of the rooms didn’t even have windows. Mine did, Mika’s didn’t. Though my window was pretty useless. The view was at a plain concrete wall just two meters away overlooking an alley, perhaps, that I couldn’t see.

At night, an elephant roamed the streets.

The people were strange. Right when we’d arrived we met a man doing the wai at us, speaking in Thai (or was a part of that English?) we couldn’t understand, touching my arm and bringing his hand on his lips, then bowing his head and proceeding to follow us for a block or two for no apparent reason. A little later we met a local woman asking us where we’re from, claiming she had a friend in Helsinki and warning us about holes on the streets as she escorted us across the road. She then proceeded to describe the local department stores with words that were difficult to understand. What we did understand, though, is that somewhere in between the topics she suggested we should visit her massage parlor.

Johnny was the only way out.

The nightlife was strange. The guidebook claimed there’d be many bars along Thanon Thamnoonvithi, which might be the main street of the city. We’d only seen four and the locals didn’t even know the word “nightclub” (Mika tried asking for one several times from several people – I guess he was aching to find one). We visited only two, among them a “farang favourite”, the guidebook claimed. It was right. When we went there, there were a total of three farangs within.

I think it may be a law in Thailand that bars should close at 1 AM, but not all bars follow this rule. One by one they closed. At night ladyboys and prostitutes roamed the streets of Hat Yai, distanced from the few vendors washing their stalls. Rats and cockroaches completed the seedy image of this bizarre border town, with two farangs trying to make it back to the hotel.

On the way I killed three roaches.

Room 16 on the Second Floor Was Mine

Location: Trang, Thailand

NP: Alexandra Stan – Mr. Saxobeat

Mood: Relaxed

Sri-Trang Hotel has a motto: You’ll call it HOME. I can see it. I can see myself staying there longer and feeling right at home. The hotel was excellent, the best one on the trip so far (Cha-Am’s Nirandorn 3 is a close 2nd) mainly because of small details. In particular the excellent staff (especially the younger Thai man at reception – he was the most helpful receptionist ever – and the singing cleaning lady) and the homely feel of the place with sturdy wooden floors, bookcases, hangout places and steep staircases that offered a little view of the fish pool. I liked the room, too, especially the one I had and not Mika’s, because they were different and mine had an extra space with a table beside the bed.

Room 16 on the second floor was mine.

The door of the staff room opposite mine. Snu would approve.

And then there’s the town of Trang with its busy night market and little else. Little else that we saw, mind you, for the town seemed keen on pouring water on us when ever we tried to go and explore further. We did manage an expedition or two, and the thing that I seem to recall the best were the golden dancer statues on the street that ran past city hall and a few local women driving by on their mopeds shouting hello at us and waving happily.

Rainy day at Trang. View from Sri-Trang Hotel lobby.

Trang has about the same population as my home city of Oulu. In Thailand it’s a relatively small city, but in Finland it’d be one of the biggest. The buildings and places that we saw weren’t anything special, sheet metal roofs and decaying concrete, but I do suppose the city might grow on you should you spend more than two nights there.

We did manage to discover one of Trang’s secrets, however. It was the most delicious omelette we’d had in Thailand (or anywhere for that matter), hidden in a small restaurant next to the night market by the train station. The place’s name escapes me, but unlike Wunderbar restaurant (which was also good, and happened to play “Wish I Had an Angel” from Nightwish while we ate there), they didn’t serve me ants in a glass I was supposed to drink from.

Trang Night Market about to open. What is that red fruit the two ladies are looking at?

Spending only two nights in Trang, we headed for the bus station with a public taxi by the railway station in the morning. Some tuk-tuk drivers were trying to offer us a lift right next to the public taxi stop for 250 baht (“Bus station very far away”), but I kept chuckling at them and asking for the public taxi which they finally pointed out for us. The public taxi cost only 12 baht for the entire trip. Quite a difference!

We proceeded to buy two tickets from a vendor on the bus station for a minibus to Hat Yai on the southern border of Thailand. The ride was as uncomfortable as usual, except that the minibus wasn't full of people.

Knees on plastic. This is why I don't like minibusses.

We Took the Train to Trang

Location: Between Surat Thani and Trang

NP: Ferry Corsten - Twice in a Blue Moon

Mood: Anticipating

Woke up at 4:45 after four hours of sleep. Washed, got dressed and packed. Checked out of Queen Hotel at 5:55. Walked to the train station of Surat Thani at 6 AM. Heard that the train was delayed by an hour. Took a seat on the bench in front of Railway Police quarters. Noticed several uniformed officers patrolling the platform.

The pace of life is slower in Asia, they say.

Watched the locals feed a stray dog on the station. Noticed that the loud announcements were in Thai only. Kept bothering officers about incoming trains on platform 1, asking if this was the one I should board.

It wasn't.

Was directed by an officer to a different part of the platform after another loud announcement. "Car Eight", he said and pointed at a bench. Took a seat and waited. After two minutes, the train arrived. Car 8 parked right in front of us. Got on board, found seats 9 and 10 (our seats) and sat at 13 and 14 behind them.

Two western women (backpackers like us) spoke to us from the back of the car: "Uh, sorry. Where are we?" I glanced at them and replied: "Surat Thani." They thanked us, promptly picked up their bags and proceeded out of the train making funny gestures as they passed our seats.

Napped on the trip. It was easy while it rained and the weather was cool, and hard while it was sunny and hot. The constant jungle raced by the window, revealing peaks in the distance.

The signposts on the stations were hard to see or, at times, lacking altogether. There were no announcements within the train. Very hard to tell where you were. I understood how the two western women had almost missed their station. The train was delayed.

The mobile phone helped a little. I'd turned on cell information announcements and could see the name of the cell my phone was connected to. Having studied and worked on the field, I knew mobile phone cells were small and often they used the name of the city and cell numbering as their name, which I could see. Sometimes they were named differently, though, so the information was unreliable. It worked in Thung Song.

A railway officer came by and reconfirmed our destination by saying "Trang?"
"Yes, Trang", we said.
"Two hours", he said. The train was delayed further.

A little before Trang the train stopped abruptly. I asked an Asian man in a green shirt with white stripes where we were. "I think we're near Trang", he said with quite fluent English. "Where are you from?"
"We're from Finland", I replied.
"Oh, very far from home", he said and made a politely surprised face. "I am from Singapore." No wonder his English was so good. I told him we were headed for Singapore after Malaysia.

When the train didn't start moving in a few minutes, I wondered if something had gone wrong. Peering out the window I could see a dark blue car on the track, but it was far away ahead of us by the locomotive. There were a lot of people about. The Singaporean had gone to find out. When he came back he told us a car was stuck on the track.

Later a Thai that spoke English told us there'd been an accident. The train had hit the car. We had hardly felt it - it'd just seemed like a normal though a bit abrupt stop. I didn't know if anyone had gotten hurt.

Watched a local man frighten one of his dogs, weld some pieces of metal together and throw stones at his son or younger brother hiding behind the doorway of their house, smiling. He worked leisurely. The pace of life seemed slower. In 30 minutes we were moving again.

Feeling tired, hungry and dirty, we arrived at Trang railway station and were greeted by a big man with a strange eye (probably glass) telling us to hurry off the train and asking us if we needed a taxi. "Where you going?"

I shook my head and told him we were going to Sri-Trang Hotel. It was located just outside the station. It was a question stopper.

Walked over and took two air-con rooms at the hotel with the friendliest of receptionists for 550 baht per room.

The Surat Thani Transfer

Location: Surat Thani, Thailand

NP: Don Johnson Big Band - Island Girl

Mood: Torn

Behind were left the flaming beaches of Koh Pha Ngan, the techno-booming parties and bucket-imposing stalls. Behind were left the restaurants we couldn't quite make our minds up about and the friendly minimarts that sold no bread. Behind was left Sea Garden Resort & Spa and its very helpful staff from whom we bought our transfer tickets.

We took a taxi from Haad Rin to Thong Sala at 11:50, sailed on the Raja ferry from Koh Pha Ngan to Don Sak at 13:00 and jumped on a tourist-filled minibus from Don Sak to Surat Thani, which was meant to serve as a transfer junction for the rest of the trip. We were dropped off outside some kind of a travel agency along with several other bemused farangs.

A mother and her three children on a motorcycle in Surat Thani.

So this was Surat Thani, huh? It looked queer. But at least I was off the excruciating islands and back on the mainland. Mika was glad too, for the price of beer was again cheaper than on the islands, but other than that I don't think he liked leaving them behind.

It was late afternoon already and we were hoping to catch a train to our final destination further south for a few days, at least, but alas, the travel agency's staff told us there would be no more trains today. Actually all of the two daily trains to our destination would travel past Surat Thani in the morning, at 4:27 and 6:28 hours. This, then, meant we'd have to spend the night at Surat Thani which we'd not planned.

Exchanging a few words with some of the the other travellers we decided to jump on the same taxi with the them and head to the railway station about 14 km outside of the city center. Unlike the others we didn't have a pre-purchased ticket for the taxi so they asked us 60 baht per person for the ride, which we paid, but then a female Thai intervened and offered her two tickets for us. When the travel agent handed me back our money and explained, I was confused. I was so confused I didn't even manage to thank the Thai that had helped us before the taxi took off. Damn. How rude I must've seemed.

On the taxi one of the westerners I'd seen kissing a Thai woman on the pier of Thong Sala and waving to her frantically from the ferry seemed genuinely sad. He was an older man and she was an older woman. He'd given some advice to the other farangs at the agency and seemed to speak fluent Thai, but his terribly sad face didn't allow me to make further inquiries. Was it his wife he was leaving behind and for how long, I wondered.

In the agency we had checked our guide book that claimed there'd be a decent hotel just a block away from the railway station, the Queen Hotel.

This turned out to be false. Not that the hotel wasn't there, it was, but that it was decent. It was so far the worst accommodation on this entire trip, perhaps excluding Sea Garden Resort & Spa's sweat-box bungalow which was cheaper. In Queen Hotel we had air-con and the priciest room (500 baht / night for a twin room with two double beds), which could've been bearable if it wasn't for the horrendous bathroom of engineering failures.

It was no matter. It would do for the night. We'd bought a ticket for tomorrow's train at 6:28 (2nd class, fan-cooled, 139 baht) that would take us to our destination - right into the heart of the city of Trang in Southern Thailand. There I hoped to learn all of Trang's secrets and fall in love with the inner beauty of foreign exoticism.

Haad Rin - The Beach of Flames and Buckets

Location: Haad Rin, Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

NP: Envio - For You (The Blizzard Remix)

Mood: Antsy

Taking a walk on the sandy beach of Haad Rin (Hat Rin) you'll notice a near total lack of the hippie vibe of old that I've been told about. The beach has changed. For better or worse, during the recent years growing tourism on Koh Pha Ngan has changed it into a relaxed little hive of quiet activity which transforms into a techno-tooting beach party every night. I imagine the change is far more drastic during the Full Moon Parties.

Currently at night there are only two bars open on the beach after 11 pm. Of those two, the Cactus Bar is by far the louder and more crowded abode with flashy fire shows and wild dancing. The staggering masses sway to the music and teem with vibrant, bucket-induced energy. Buckets are sold by a mass of vendors by their dirty-sloganed stalls at the beach. A bucket consists of your choice of booze, Coke or Sprite, and a small bottle of energy drink.

The gathered crowd consists pleasantly of mixed races. Europeans, Americans and Asians (mostly Thai) populate the beach with various activities, of which the two most common by far are dancing and drinking, or in a word, frolicking. It is a youthful place, not meant for the old and weary.

"I've seen you walk by every day", a Thai female told me as I was taking a picture of my friend doing the fire limbo (walking under an ever lower rope that is on fire). "How old are you?" another one asked.

Me relaxing at Sea Garden Resort & Spa.

"Eighteen", I replied.

Waking up in the Jungle

Location: Haad Rin, Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

NP: Kingston Wall - Stüldt Håjt

Mood: Distraught

Every time I think I'm going to wake up back in the jungle. When I was home after my first tour, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. -Captain Willard

My first trip to Thailand was in 2006. Returning home was an end to a two-week rush, coming down from a high and soon after dealing with the death of my grandfather. It was like hitting a massive downer. I'd wake up, get to work and there'd be nothing. I wonder what it will be like this time, after three months. Can it be any worse?

When I was here I wanted to be there. When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle.

The jungle is right here on Koh Pha Ngan. Creepy crawlies far bigger than those I'm used to back home have invaded my bungalow at Sea Garden Resort & Spa. I was trying to rough it up on the cheap side in a room as hot as Hell. Now a giant spider lurks somewhere in the corner, lizards roam the walls, mosquitoes have found the cracks on the floor and tiny ants march on my bed, impervious, it seems, to the paralyzing heat. I've been here for two days now. Waiting, getting softer.

Every minute I stay in this room I get weaker.

Today I switched rooms. Air-con, clean and bug-free. Apart from a big one that revealed itself when Mika, my travelling companion, went to close the curtains. It was just a bug of some sort, clasping the curtains. But it was quick. I couldn't kill it. The jungle is close. I hear its chirping night and day. Every time I stop and listen the sounds seem to come a little closer. 

Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter.

The Touts of Thong Sala on Koh Pha Ngan

I decided not to make Captain Willard proud this time and instead jumped on the morning ferry by Songserm from Koh Tao to Koh Pha Ngan.

We bought our tickets from a woman that came asking for our destination from a store next to where our taxi left us at Mae Hat since her price was the one we'd seen listed before. The ferry to Koh Pha Ngan cost 300 baht per person and the trip took less than two hours. Songserm was not as quick or expensive as Lomprayah's flashy catamarans (450 baht), but it was spacious (as in not even close to being full), comfortable (apart from the distinct smell of gasoline below deck) and relatively quick. Napping on the plastic rows of seats with my trusty Sansa mp3 player was my favourite pastime on the ferry.

Songserm's pier on Mae Hat.

The pier on the harbour town of Thong Sala on Koh Pha Ngan was filled with touts advertising accommodation possibilities. The air was filled with the question: "Where you going?" We mostly ignored the advertisers, but mentioned to one that we were going to eat. "Where you go after?" she asked. "Maybe Haad Rin", I replied never stopping to talk. This made her follow us like a bloodhound for several blocks into town, though she did look puzzled when we just walked past the first restaurant near the pier.

Aggressive marketing is a very strange thought for us Finns. It is mostly seen as unbecoming and almost always undesirable. Help without alterior motives, though, can be hard to find here. In my experience the most reliable sources of information have been the receptions at hotels that you've checked out before-hand. Unfortunately these check-ups can be rather time-consuming, though websites such as Tripadvisor help a great deal. Another decent source of information are your fellow travellers, but take everything with a grain of salt.

Following the large street from the pier, taking a turn to the left and then to the right took us to a small street that housed a covered food court. This was a large group of tables and chairs surrounded by food stalls selling several kinds of inexpensive dishes. Pad Thai was our pick of the day for just 40 baht (1 euro).

After the meals and my friend's trip to the john, we hailed a taxi from the street and asked the driver to take us to Sea Garden Resort & Spa at Haad Rin. The taxi cost us 100 baht / person and the price seemed unnegotiable. Navigating the steep roads of the island made us feel it was money well-earned by the driver.

And soon we would be at the party beach of Haad Rin where the Full Moon Parties still take place and the hippie vibe is but a recent memory of another place in Thailand changed by growing tourism.

Losing it on Koh Tao

The sound of motorbikes and the hotel staff sweeping wakes me up every morning.

What is there to do on an island such as Koh Tao besides going mad? It's a small place of only 5000 residents spread on several beaches on each coast of the island. Most people inhabit Hat Sai Ri (or Sairee Beach) and the tourists there are mostly snorkeling enthusiasts or divers looking to get their Open Water Cerfitication (which costs around 9000-9800B). So there's diving, which I'm not here to do, and swimming.

I tried swimming at the beach where I'm staying, Ao Chalok Baan Kao, where the bay looks good but the waters are muddy. It was fun for a while, though the waters are very shallow very far away. Then I hit a sharp-edged rock in the shallow water and an incoming wave threw me against it before I could get away. The result: three, long wounds on the right arm, small scratches above the thumb, a few scrapes on the left hand, a deep slash on my toe and a bloody towel.

So swimming is out of the picture for now. Besides watching Apocalypse Now Redux, what else is there to do?

My guide book tells me that "after diving, Ko Tao's favourite pastime is drinking". Well that's good. Options here are limited. I guess it's either time to get away or make Captain Willard proud.

Social Travelling

"I'm running out of money, but I'm going home in three days", an Australian man told me at the 4th floor terrace in the Suksawad Hotel in Bangkok.

In the boredom of the kingdom of your ordinary life there are only so many events or places where socializing occurs, especially if you live alone. These quickly become routine. Should you wish, you can minimize them to such a level that you only ever need to meet other people, let alone talk to them, when you visit the shop to buy your daily groceries or (optionally) answer the telephone when someone calls. Master antisocial level reached.

"Damn the Thai women are beautiful", the Australian blurted out suddenly, in the midst of a conversation, after I had asked him about the Prickly Heat cooling powder I was testing.

This is not the case when travelling. During the past two weeks we've been travelling, I've had to be more social than I ever recall being. There's always something that you need to ask a local or someone you think may know, or need help with something and you have to convince others to assist you. You're also out there a lot - so you're open to other peoples' social endeavours. I've had to, or sometimes had the pleasure to, talk to people I don't know daily. This is added to the fact that, should you travel with a friend like I do, you will be talking to your travelling companion at length each day.

"Kolme kuukautta?! KOLME kuukautta?!? Eihän kukaan matkusta niin pitkään!" a slightly drunken Finnish woman exclaimed in surprise after hearing the length of our three months trip on the car ferry from Chumphon. Theirs was five weeks.

The Bus Terminal of Chumphon.

Being rather introverted and antisocial normally (though not quite at the master level yet), this social aspect of travelling is getting to me. I am the one doing most of the negotiating, the bargaining and the inquiring, yet I crave for silence and a space of my own, and there is seldom one to be had here. Though a pair of wise men said "growth happens when you enter the uncomfortable zone", it is gnawing away at my inner peace. Perhaps it is simply changing me, but the pace of it, at some point, I will have to remedy.

"Do you know where I can get this fixed?", I asked a thai shopkeeper on Koh Tao and pointed at the nearly torn band of my new messenger bag. He said he knew a place and was going on an errand in that direction. "You come with me?" he kindly asked and gave me a lift on his motorcycle.

The Car Ferry from Chumphon to Koh Tao.

Two days ago we travelled by public bus from Cha-Am to Hua Hin (30 minutes, 40 baht), by deluxe bus from Hua Hin to Chumphon (4 hours, 171 baht) and by a car ferry from Chumphon to the island of Koh Tao (6 hours, 300 baht). Between destinations we had to use an expensive local taxi (prices ranging from a haggled 140 baht to 300 baht) every time, until we finally reached our current location (by taxi from Mae Hat beach to Ao Chalok Baan Kao, 200 baht), JP Resort on Koh Tao.

"You didn't believe when I say I visit Finland, but maybe now you do", an old thai woman said in Mo Nat Thai Food & Sea Food restaurant and showed a photograph of her in Rovaniemi while a younger western female eyed us from a nearby table.

It took us all day and night, and we arrived exhausted in the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps you can imagine the amount of inquiring and haggling involved. Perhaps you can't. Perhaps all this socializing is nothing to you, or worse yet, preferable.

Most of the time I don't envy you. But there are times I do.

Cha-Am 4 PM

The bus dropped us off, as the only people leaving at this stop, by Cha-Am's beach at the intersection of Ratchaphlee Road and Ruamchit Road (Beach Road) at exactly 4 PM. As this was not the main intersection by the beach, it took us a moment to get our bearings. Shortly, however, we wandered at the Nirandorn 3 Hotel which we'd sought.

Calling Cha-Am a little fishing village does not do the town justice. Spread along a beautiful beach, Cha-Am consists of two roads running along the beach and Narathip Road leading into Cha-Am Village about 1,5 km from the sea. This simple design makes getting lost practically impossible. Cha-Am is located on the coast of the Gulf of Thailand in the Phetchaburi Province and has a population of about 46000.

After the constant sounds of Bangkok, Cha-Am seemed extremely peaceful. There were no hasslers, no conmen and no tuk-tuk drivers offering ping pong shows. Two motorcycle taxi drivers asking if we wanted a lift were the only people to pay us any mind on the way to Nirandorn 3. The only even remotely unsettling thing to notice here was the large amount of stray dogs running along the beach and by the roads.

And about Nirandorn 3 I must say that money does buy you more outside of Bangkok, it seems. Our twin bedroom was very clean, well furnished with air-con and cost 700 baht per day (with wifi, a pool and a fridge). After the constant heat (to which my body had not adapted in a week) of Bangkok and Suksawad Hotel, it was a blessing. A week of sweat and blisters had made my feet sore and body itchy. The best medicine, I thought, was air-con and rest. And swimming, of course.

But rest we would not have, for tomorrow it's off to Chumphon and Koh Tao.

Leaving Bangkok

After one week Bangkok was starting to feel like home. We'd explored the streets, sampled the food and spoken to some locals. There was plenty of city to be explored still, but we'd gotten a hang of the rhythm and were whistling, perhaps dancing, to the beat. Eating one more time at a street vendor's stall we decided it was time to move on, though we didn't really like to leave. With all its good and bad, Bangkok had charmed us.

We bid farewell to the very helpful staff at Suksawad Hotel, took a taxi to Southern Bus Terminal (Sai Tai) and bought a ticket to Cha-Am for 150 baht (less than 4 euros). Southern Bus Terminal was a big building complex that was mostly a store that just happened to house a few ticket booths for busses. The story was different near the platforms on the outside, though, where the vast parking places for busses spread out in all directions.

I found a pair of brown Binsin sneakers at the bus terminal for 290 baht. The trip had been rough on my West Coast shoes and my feet. A blister had formed on my left heel and the West Coast shoes were falling apart a little from all the walking - there was a visible hole in the cracked insole and I had to replace it with the one I had brought from Finland for the new sneakers. The new shoes would have to do with their original insoles.

The bus was moving fast through the vast suburbs of Bangkok. It was surprising to see how far the suburbs spread. 100 km to the south of Bangkok and there were still constant buildings by the road, with small stalls where locals were selling fruit and drinks. The amount of people living in the area must be staggering.

150 km to the south and the suburbs were still going. It was probably just roadside housing, I thought. Then a theme park, Santorini Park, came to view. An actual theme park in the middle of nowhere? The bus made stops in what I assume are towns, but from the road you couldn't really tell them apart. Phetchaburi came and went. A nap after we arrived at our destination, a little fishing village, I had thought, of Cha-Am, about 160 km southwest of Bangkok.

A Game of Buddhas

Before us on a street in Banglamphu, Bangkok, walked a well-dressed Thai, peering at shop windows but generally just tiptoeing on. We trodded along behind him in the burning heat, trying to find either a decent store for shoes (which I badly need) or a restaurant selling local food. Yesterday it had been +38C, but this day seemed the hottest of them all so far.

After about 500 meters of this tag-along, the local guy turned around and came to talk to us. He claimed to be an English teacher at a nearby school and began to tell us how today was special - that we could visit some great sights free just today, because it was some Buddhist special day and government promoted. He marked four sights on our map. Tomorrow the same sights would have an entrance fee.

Among these sights was the Standing Buddha and the Black Buddha. He also said we should visit the Golden Mount and some other sight, and even beckoned a tuk-tuk for us. Only yellow tuk-tuks would do, as they were government supported for this. It would only cost us 20 baht for all four sights. Vroom, and we were off. Such an easy thing to send two farangs off in any which way, it seems.

The Standing Buddha was a somewhat decent sight to behold. The golden statue towered above us just a little like the ancient Colossus. Although I am in no way religious, I visited the shrine inside the temple and took a moment to sit down and pray.

"You are very lucky you in Thailand today, because today is the only day the Black Buddha is open. Only one day open every year!" the English teacher had said. I was suspicious from the start, especially since I'd heard his English wasn't quite perfect, but I was willing to see how this most-likely a scam would work. Plus the 500 meters of tiptoeing made me give him the benefit of the doubt. "Lets see the Black Buddha next", I told the tuk-tuk driver, who was waiting for us outside the temple area. And off we went with a nod.

However, after the second temple (the Buddha here had not been black) I insisted we would pay the 20 baht to the driver and go and eat something, as we had originally planned. The driver refused the money and said he could wait happily for a few hours for us! Was this not just a tad too suspicious? Refusing money and willing to wait for hours? And for what? He would get his 20 baht earlier this way, not later, and with less work. It made no sense.

So I insisted. His expression turned sour and he grabbed the 20 bahts from my extended hand with an angry gesture, but he did not make any rude remarks and simply walked away. It was clearly a scam, yet I didn't know what for. Someone would've probably tried to sell us something overly expensive at some point.

It is such a shame Thailand is infested with these scams. Being mostly a poor country, I understand an individual's need to resort to a scheme such as this, but the morals are no less questionable. Today it ended up costing probably more than it was worth for them. And our adventure walking the streets we did not know had begun for us. That, not the temples, was the most fun part of today.

Perhaps next time I will play ignorant and go see the Buddhas again for 20 bahts.

Nana Plaza Blues

Nana Entertainment Plaza is one of the well-known red-light districts in Bangkok. We had a chance to visit this hub of nightly activity last night. It is supposed to be shaped like a square, but it seemed more like a single street with some active alleys to my first-timers eyes. The place was crowded. I knew what we were getting into - my friend did not. However, it didn't take him long to find out.

The first bar (I forget the name - maybe Hillary's Bar?) we sat at for a beer and a chance to watch a game on tv had very friendly service. In fact the waitress who took our order was so friendly and chatty she decided to sit with us at our table and brought her more quiet friend along with the beer we ordered. My friend was puzzled, which was amusing to watch, as I had not informed him of the wonders of Nana Plaza. We talked with the girls for a short moment and I explained to my friend what was going on, after which I told the chatty waitress that we were just going to have the beer and watch the game. She nodded, smiled politely and left with her friend.

My experience of Nana Plaza is that it's mostly good-spirited fun, perhaps to a lesser extent at the go-go bars that I am not too fond of. Nothing is forced on you (except higher prices for drinks) or the people who work at these places, though the atmosphere is definitely suggestive and you should stay clear of the rip-off joints. The place, instead, seems to give out a message that once again the Asian people have understood something the westerners haven't: That desire is a basic need to be tended to, just like hunger. Here there is no prejudiced shame about it - just more options for those who wish to use them.

Ants Attack

Bangkok is such a vast city. It is essentially Asian, which means polite behaviour and skin-deep smiles. To a traveller it offers restaurants, shopping malls, tourist attractions, bars, nightclubs, accommodation and even a little culture. Restaurants, malls and bars have been our focus in the beginning of our journey. It doesn't take long to get acquinted with a neighbourhood and its peculiarities, though travelling outside this small area is always a new adventure.

Traveller's Friends.

Here are a few things we've experienced of late in Bangkok:
- Being talked to by a local who isn't after our money
- An Indian doctor (MD) whose English pronunciation is nearly flawless
- A girly waitress with a growth of hair on the upper lip
- Poverty on the streets
- Huge yet crowded shopping malls
- An enjoyable haggling session with a tuk-tuk -driver
- A boobbutt by a waitress of 45 hot seasons on Nana Plaza

In addition to these, events in my sanctuary have taken a turn for the worse as the ants that used to be by the doorway have began a massive onslaught initially on my meager food supply but now against my laptop as well. Those little buggers keep running under the keys of the keyboard, inside usb-ports and cooling holes. I must have killed at least a hundred of them just today, yet they keep coming.

On hindsight I realize it was a mistake storing jam and peanut butter on the same table where the laptop is located, but in my defence there aren't many options to go around and I did try to keep them well away from the computer. Alas, to no avail.

The Heat

Amidst the bustling city, its constant sound of traffic and its decaying hovels there is a room of heat and green curtains and small spiders. This is the Suksawad Hotel in Bangkok. This, now, is my sanctuary.

Though it does little to shelter me from the sounds and the ever-present heat, it is large and private enough with its own bathroom. Sadly, the bathroom is infested with little spiders. They are very busy knitting their nets at an incredible pace. I'm glad it's spiders and not something else, though there are also little ants by the door of the room, too. They haven't bothered me so far and I hope the spiders keep them away from the bathroom, at least. My room is numbered 472, on the 4th floor, though on the door it only says "42". Out the door there is a little hangout terrace with some plants and a few wooden benches I'm growing a little fond of.

Located in Banglamphou, I am a walking distance away from the tourist ghetto of Khao San Road. On Khao San Road (or Thanon Khao San) there are always many western tourists, which would normally be a bad thing (like in Playa de Las Americas, Tenerife, ewgh!), but here on the very foreign streets of Bangkok it seems like a welcome change - a piece of home in a far-away land. If it gets too touristy, all you have to do is walk away a couple of blocks and you'll see very few.

So, then, I am not bothered by the spiders or the ants or the vendors and the tuk-tuk drivers that hastle you a plenty to get their share of your fare. No, it is the heat that is the first thing to greet you when you step off the plane. Without aircon (which I don't have) it never lets go. It is constant and sweltering, making you a tacky being of sweat and smells in a matter of minutes.

This is what it can do to a protein bar.

And the fan on the ceiling hums as it shuffles hot air about.

On the Second Day in Istanbul

On the second day in Istanbul we saw a glimpse of the Turkish temperament at last. It is safe to assume that, as a tourist, professional conmen are the only locals that will come and talk to you. Three attempts were given serious effort - one of them succeeded. The free shoe shine quickly turned into a costly one, and put a sour note on the chant of Istanbul. And there I had thought it wouldn't be so bad here - that this, being on the west of the Bosphorus, was still in Europe and as close to home as I will be in three months. The carpet salesmen were at least more pleasant in their way, yet quickly bid us farewell when they found out we would not be spending money.

Ahh the Old City of Istanbul, with its old walls and its blue mosques and its decaying Hagia Sophia, which isn't open on Mondays... "Where are you from? First day in Istanbul?" With its swindling Sultanahmet on the coast of the Sea of Marmara, the conquerors of ancient Byzantium and its relics. I had built up expectations that the city could not match. Perhaps too many. And thus my image of Turkey was not improved on this short visit. In fact it had worsened.

I was not sad to leave Istanbul behind that night and fly into the sweltering heat of Bangkok, Thailand.

The Quiet of Istanbul

I had been to Turkey before, but the tourist-infested Alanya seemed to have very little in common with Istanbul. Here at night the streets were quiet though crowds of people and hordes of cars shuffled through them. Where was the Turkish temperament? We'd only seen some of that at the airport where a busload of locals rushed past us to get to passport control first and an overly eager vendor tried to sell us over-priced tours. "He was trying to rip you off", one of the locals stated.

Old city was very easy to reach by public transport. It was late and the shops were already closing. Yet such silence I had rarely experienced in a city as large as this.

The morning was far too bright and hot and sweaty.