That's the pitch--whatever you want, it's in Bangkok. For a boy from the Dongbei region of China, that's a mighty powerful enticement. Up here we settle for heat that works and a big bottle of Snow beer.
Bangkok held out promises of all-night parties, sky-high shopping malls, state-of-the-art SkyTrains, suits made to order, dining fit for a king, a real king and his palace, and heat, plentiful, tropical heat.
I'm here to report that Bangkok delivers on its promises.
Jackie and I found all the things people said we'd find in quantities and concentrations that were just right for us. The all-night parties for example. We accidentally stumbled upon Patpong during the day and were able to figure out that with all its “Topless Pool”, “Topless Beer”, and “Top less Top less Top less” it was not going to be a good match for us once the tops started lessing later at night.
The same was true with the Nana area of Sukhumvit. We didn't need to descend to the sois to find confirmation of its reputation as a center devoted to the pleasures of the flesh. All we needed was the siren's voice on the SkyTrain's recording announcing in its bedroom whisper, “Next stop, NaaaaNaaaa. Next stop NaaaaNaaaa.” I kept a firm grip on the handrail every time the doors opened there. I was not going to find myself wrecked on the rocks of Mekong and Coke.
No, our all-night party was a dinner cruise in a converted rice boat. Beautiful wood, twinkling lights, river breezes kept us company as we ate and drank our way up and down the Chao Praya.
The Siam Paragon shopping mall had huge Kinokuniya bookstore and we browsed to our hearts' content before finally settling on a copy of the Lonely Planet's guide to India (our next destination).
I've already mentioned the SkyTrain and dining. Those two would be part of our trip without us having to go out of our way to find them. When it came to clothes shopping, I wanted to check it out, but I didn't want to make it a focus of our trip. If it happened; it happened. Well, as it happened, Mr. Ron's tailor shop was housed in our hotel. He said he could make a seersucker suit for me in the time we were in Bangkok. He offered an attractive enough price for my suit, a shirt, and tie plus a jacket, pants, and skirt for Jackie (10,000 THB, about $330) that we agreed to the deal.
We got to see the palace, but not the king (at least not live. His image, in many cases quite a bit larger than life, is all over the place). As we were leaving the palace our way was blocked. We, and everyone else, had to stand by and wait while a motorcade made its way out of the palace and down the avenue. Someone said it was the queen. The Thais who lined the street stood respectfully at attention when her car passed.
In addition to those expected attractions we found some less highly-touted spots and activities that added to our Bangkok experience. The Jim Thompson house and nearby neighborhood was a fascinating glimpse into the Bangkok of the 50s. The silk company is still a big business, but the quiet and beauty of the house and gardens was a surprisingly pleasant respite from the hustle and bustle of the city. The restaurant there is also a great place to relax and sample some delicious Thai food. The amulet market north of the Grand Palace was an amazing warren of stalls displaying Buddhist charms and relics. It was fascinating to see orange-robed monks rubbing elbows with lay collectors, both examining possible purchases with jewelers loupes.
We also took a six-hour bike tour from Sukhumvit to Phra Pradaeng, on the other side of the river. The view of neighborhood alleys, markets, and temples from the level of a bike seat was up close and personal.
After not enough time in Bangkok we went south to Koh Samui to put in some serious beach time. I'll save those details for another time save for one anecdote. We were in a pickup converted to minibus on our way back to Lamai from the Chaweng beach viewpoint. The driver stopped to pick up two young men who looked right off of muscle beach. With their tank tops showing off their buffed out shoulders and arms they climbed in and let out huge sighs. It turns out they were two Aussies who had arrived on the island the day before and had gone out partying. At some point in their evening/night/morning they ran out of money and wanted to go back to their hotel. The only problem was they didn't know where it was (and apparently weren't operating at their problem-solving best). As one of them put it, “The best time in my life turned into the worst time in my life in about 30 minutes.” Here it was 2:00 or so in the afternoon of the following day and they still hadn't made it home. They had called friends in Sydney and through them figured out that they needed to get to the Easy Time Hotel (no lie), but they were still struggling to find someone who knew where that was and who could take them there. I assume they made it back.
As the song says, “Not much between despair and ectasy.”
