FROM THE SUBLIME.......

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........To the ridiculous

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We started the journey home from Bangkok on Thursday. Again we headed for Kuala Lumpur and looked forward to a night in KL before flying home the next day. That evening we were all tired. We traipsed round the hot, noisy, busy streets and market, looking for somewhere to eat. If only we had known, as we were to find out later, that just around the corner from our hotel was a rich assortment of eateries.This Tune Hotel was significantly better than the one at the airport, but as Ali always points out, 'what do you expect for £9 a night?' The beds were comfy and clean and the shower was hot and powerful, and once again the ceiling fan rotated with the speed of a Sopwith Camel propeller. (I use this simile because of the book I am reading here 'Winged Victory' a true story of a WWI pilot.)

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In the morning I reported to the 'Subway' fast food outlet in the reception of the hotel for breakfast. I found Ali hunched over a PC, on the internet for some bargain or other, or so I thought. But no, he turned to me with a look of forboding on his face and pointed to the screen. 'Icelandic Volcano shuts UK Airspace' read the headline. For an instant I thought Ali was playing a naughty prank on us. He's such a cheeky chappie, but no, he shook his head from side to side. I fully expected him to don the black cap of the hanging judge. 'You will be taken from this place to an airport, where you will wait at nature's pleasure, for your flight to England, whenever that may be.'

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We were soon standing in line at KL airport trying to extract information from the staff there, along with plenty of other people. All we did manage to extract were a number of food discount vouchers. Well at least we would be able to have some decent food to eat, but no, these vouchers were from my nemesis 'restuarant'......Mc Donalds. Ironically, on our first day in Malaysia at KL airport, I had boldly stated that 'I never have and never will darken the portals of that place even if I were starving'. Now it was the only option, unless one wanted to, shock, horror, pay for food. And after all, it was the airlines's fault we were stuck here so we don't want to pay do we? So along with a milk shake, fillet of 'fish' and french fries you could pass through the eye of a needle, humble pie was eaten.

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Ali was soon on the internet and to his great credit soon had us booked into a cheap hotel, offering good facilities in the middle of KL just one hour by coach from the airport. And here we sit. There is no chance at the moment of returning home and soon, like rats deserting, no strike that, like two sensible, experienced, travellers, Ali and Annabel will be gone, flying to Cairo and then to their home in Malta. And who can blame them, for the prospect of sitting comfortably in one's living room, slippers on, fire blazing in the hearth, kettle whistling cheerily in the kitchen, is one to savour.

SONGKROW

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When we were enroute to Bangkok Ali Annabel mentioned to us that while we were here it was to be the Thai New Year. They have been here before at this time and warned us what to expect. However the recent political unrest in the city meant that perhaps Songkrow would be postponed for this year. However the authorities, although suggesting that this should be the case, underestimated the resolve of the Thai people who were determined to keep to their traditions...
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Apparently the way to wish someone a happy new year is to sprinkle, yes I said SPRINKLE water on them and then place a small amount of flour on their face. As usual, this has evolved into a manic nationwide party where de rigor is to have the meanest, the best and the wettest method of soaking people to the bone whilst wishing them Happy New Year. While you are doing this it is also a good idea to have a tin of noodle past or flour to apply liberally to the unsuspecting or often helpless victims.

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The wise tourist or 'Farang' is easy and a delicate meat. It therefore prudent to avoid blind corners on the pavement and watch out for passing tuk tuks or open backed trucks armed to the teeth with various water soakers. These can range from a simple and fairly ineffective water pistol, to a hose pipe connected to a vat of water, with a powerful pump powered by it's own generator. Trust me, these will soak you to the bone. However my initiation was less violent. I was attacked on my way to the ferry station by a gang of two toddlers. Both were armed with soakers and both blindsided me whilst we were waiting for Alistair to return with a new pair of flip flops after blowing his own out. After this mean and vicious attack during which we were all ( apart from the absent Hearn) soaked and daubed accordingly, we made our way to the ferry where we were advised to put our cameras in the (provided) plastic bags for the remainder of the day.

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The ferry ride passed without incident, but as soon as one's food was placed on dry land, one became a target once again. At one stop, we saw a gang of people who had rigged up a plastic fire man type pipe with generator of course, and the feeder end was in the river, providing and endless supply of water to squirt (not really the right word) everybody who came near and all traffic that went past, including innocent looking people going about their daily moped business. Cars, buses and trucks were soaked then daubed with noodle paste. Trish, because of her complexion received special treatment, and Annabel too, with her blond hair was a prime target.

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In the evening the streets of Bangkok were turned into battle areas, with snipers around every corner waiting to turn the merely sweaty prospective diner, into a soaked one. The centre of our little area of town was awash with water and dancing people. Of course we failed to keep dry but by the time we had run the gauntlet down to New Joe's we were relatively unnscathed.

GOING UP COUNTRY

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Bridge On The River Kwai

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Our driver turned up dead on time at 8 for our journey up north to Kachenabora. Ali and Annabel had said that this was a trip worth making for a number of reasons. First we would be able to experience Thai life outside of Bangkok, then would be able to visit the historical site of The River Kwai bridge, cemetery and museum and then the elephants where we would have the opportunity to ride elephants, see monkeys and other animals in the wild and leopards and tigers too. Mr Chang was an amicable man and as we found out later anxious to please us and make sure we had a good time.
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It took about two hours to reach the first stop, the cemetery where over 6,000 British, Dutch and Australian P.O.W.'s are buried during the construction of the 'Death Railway' between and Burma in World War Two. The cemetery is immaculately kept and tended by the Thai people. We then visited the Death Railway museum and finally the bridge over The River Kwai itself. The museum too was pretty harrowing although I knew most of the facts and story already, when you are in that climate, yo realise what those brave soldiers went through in captivity.
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Next stop was the local market where unfortunately the tourist industry has grown since Ali and Annabel's last visit. There were many stalls selling all sorts of crap but we managed to buy Trish a really lovely hat as she had forgotten hers. Don't worry sweetheart, it's only 38 degrees in the shade!

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From there we headed up to the elephant sanctuary. Here it is possible to live with the elephants and tend for them and of course ride with the safe guidance of their Mahoot. This was a fantastic experience and one we will not forget. From there we began the journey home but driver Mr. Chang, or is it Jack, knew where we could observe monkeys in the wild and luckily, Annabel had a bannana. A great photoshoot followed.

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Elephants!

MARKET DAY

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Now I am always up for a bit of a bargain so when Ali and Annabel suggested that we go to a market some distance across town where cheap was the watchword, I jumped at the chance. Our taxi ride took us through part of the town which were the scenes of last night's dreadful events. When we arrived at the market we were quite unprepared for the sheer size of it. It seemed never ending. Most of it was a rabbit warren of narrow walks through packed stalls.
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Something for you Jill!

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As usual it was blisteringly hot both outside in the 'fresh' air and inside under the cover of canvas and plastic sheeting. The amount of goods for sale was breathtaking. Most of it was clothing and all of it was cheap and as usual it was all up to a barter. We spent a few hours there purchasing various items.
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We were just about to leave when we passed a very small stall selling musical instruments. Standing in the corner were three guitars, one a bass. I looked casually over at the description, it was marked as a Gibson SG EB 1969. It was old, had lost all it's shine. I asked the price; 8,000 baht which was about £80. I asked for a look and play, plugged it in and wow it played beautifully, even if it was a fake it was worth £80 and of course am no expert on vintage guitars so I could not be certain of it's credibility. An interpreter was brought in. I expressed a desire to purchase it, and it was then when the real price was unveiled......80,000 baht, £800. Needless to say the bass still awaits another buyer, but I will be checking out just what it really was and how much it was worth.

Photographs on today's blog courtesy of Ali and his new camera. What a bargain!

AFTER THE STORM

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Thanks for the messages of concern. We are all well and as you can see from the photo, normal service has been resumed. There is still a bit of tension in the air but I think the 20 dead in the protest has resulted in a bit of a reality check from all involved. We drove through town on our way to a big outdoor/indoor market and most of the military had gone back to their barracks and the clean up was starting. The Red Shirts are still about but rather dispersed.

Whlst at the market I came accross a 1969 Gibson SG EB bass for sale. Couldn't resisit trying it out of course. More later.

TROUBLE IN TOWN

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We could hear the sound of gunfire from our hotel. Earlier in the day our tuk tuk had been prevented from crossing the main square because of the barriers keeping the throngs of red-shirted protesters back from the main government buildings. The atmosphere was volatile and thus dangerous. The mood of the protesters was one of a a simmering discontent mainly with the curent political situation. As I stood on our balcony with dusk falling, I wondered if the night would pass without tragedy. The answer was no.

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The day had begun almost normally. The night before we had spent at Joe's eating superb Thai food and at last enjoying a beer or two. We could hear from the restaurant, just around the corner from the main square, the sounds of political address, imploring the people to rise up against the government.

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In the morning we had an excellent buffet breakfast and Trish Ali and I set off for the huge electrical retail complex where on five floors, each the size of a football pitch, everything audio, visual and computing is for sale. From our hotel, we traveled accross town in a Tuk Tuk. This is the quickest way of getting aroud

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A tuk tuk, from Sweden perhaps?
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the city. Ideal for three people and driven by a noisy 150 c.c. motorcycle engine, this three wheeled vehicle and thousands like it, zooms precariously around the streets honking and sqeezing itself through gaps to small for cars. Some of them have been customised, sporting alloy whees, multicoloured seats and logos. It has one wheel at the front, a set of motorcyle like handlebars, which the driver clings determindly to, as he weedles his way towrds his destination. It is a ride of fairground dodgem proportions. As it only has this one wheel at the front, it's turning circle is tight to say the least, and as we pulled up in front of the shopping centre, we were nearly cast from the machine as it u-turned to a halt.
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Once inside the centre, the scale of it hit home. Everwhere you looked there were shops selling electricals. Of course everything could be bartered for, even down to brand spanking new cameras and computers. We spent five hours in there, purchasing everything from a lovely new SLR camera for Ali at a knockdown price, to brand new, just released movies for Trish and myself. We also picked up software for my Mac and gadgets galore. At the end of the day we climbed into another Tuk Tuk for the journey across the city home.

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As we approached Government square, we were stopped by riot barriers. Our driver would go no further. Crowds, dressed in red shirts, thronged the area. Masked protesters armed with long poles were dealing with the cctv cameras that were spying on the congregated mass. There was nothing for it but to cross the square, dodging through barriers and surrealy being clapped by the protesters as we went. I was nervous, I knew it could take only one trigger happy over motivated participant to start a dangerous confrontation. With relief we reached the other side of the square. Shops were closing early, metal shutters were going up, businesses were taking no chances. There was a simmering air of unease.

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In the evening we ventured out through the unusually deserted tourist shopping area. The hotel manager urged us, as we departed, to be careful. Where yesterday at 11.30 at night there were people everywhere giving the city a unique atmosphere, tonight there was the sounds of gunfire and a helicopter patrolling overhead. We headed down darkened allyways towards Joes again where we enjoyed a night of relative peace and quiet until the journey home. As we made our way back to our hotel, we were overtaken by countless ambulances and pick up trucks, taking the injured, and as we found out later, the dead to hospital. What more of a contrast could one have from this time last week?

BANGKOK

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I was totally unprepared for the mass of humankind that is Bangkok. We arrived at six pm in a beautifully air conditioned airport, an hours bus ride away from the city centre. Our hotel is some way from the bus stop and we were required to walk some 800 mts up a crowded, bustling pavement dragging our suitcases like a dead dog on a lead, behind us. To venture out from the safety of the pavement would be unadviseable due to the traffic, as dense as the people, roaring up and down the road.

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The heat was stifling. It was about 7.30 and the thermometer was in the high 30's. Very soon my sweat was sweating. Along the road side of the pavement was a continous stream of vendors and their stalls, to the right shops, some open fronted, some glass fronted. People were everywhere. It was impossible to stop, if you did so you caused an instant human traffic jam. We ploughed on, up towards the distant bridge over the canal where lay our hotel. Not for the first time did the contrast between last week's sojourn on the idyllic and peaceful island of Kecil and what we were experiencing now strike me as just amazing.

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We soon needed to cross a pretty serious looking main road. I saw across the other side the welcome green man inicating it was safe to cross. Not so. A little green man with a phaser gun was required to stop this traffic which completely ignored the unarmed version. Tuk Tuks (three wheeled open taxis) roared around the far corner into the road we were crosiing. 'Don't worry' Annabel soothed 'you'll get used to it'

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Somehow, we arrived at the air conditioned haven that was our hotel and we were soon unpacking and looking forward, with some trepidation it must be said, to venturing out for our evening meal. I could already see Ali salivating heavily at the prospect.