Bangkok -- 4 December 1998

We had an unsolicited wakeup knock at 5:45 (the alarm was set for 6:00.) We were downstairs by 6:25 and Shyam was waiting for us with tea. There had been no fax from Colleen overnight. Shyam had arranged with his STD friend to leave the fax machine on overnight, just in case, and we had hoped that the fax would arrive before we left. It was not to be. We had a flight out to Thailand this morning. Shyam had arranged for a taxi at 6:45, so we said our good-byes, wished Shyam luck with his visas, and were at the airport by 7:00. The taxi driver attempted to charge us 250 rs. but Shyam had already negotiated a 150 ra. fare for us so we didn't fall for it. There were incredibly long lines just inside the airport, it turned out you had to x-ray your luggage before you could do anything else. Line is probably too ambitious a word, really everyone was just pushing and shoving toward a central point where the x-ray machine was. Crunches of people is probably a better description. People with luggage carts were particularly brutal and we had to employ the tactic of leaning on the conveyor belt and ignoring those going for the vulnerable ankles to keep traffic moving in our favor. We find it to be especially effective in these situations. Then we were in. We deliberately didn't pay our exit tax until we'd checked in (and they made us) because that way you get ahead in the check-in queue and you just sprint over and pay it while the other person holds up the check-in line. It works like a charm every time, but it still hurt, as the tax was 1000 ra. each!

We ate some faux chocolate muffins and cookies washed down with tea and Nescafe with steamed milk. (Any kind of processed good, no matter how bad, is considered a luxury in Nepal and India, because hardly any local person can afford them, which is why they pair instant coffee with steamed milk.) Kathmandu was banked in fog. We weren't going anywhere for a while. While we waited, a young Japanese woman began to wail and keen, as if she'd just learned that her husband had died. It was painful to see how upset she was. Her mother just held her, and when the woman went down on her knees, she kept a hand on her shoulder. The mother seemed very uncomfortable, probably because her daughter was causing a scene. Perhaps the daughter was mentally ill, and this kind of thing happened a lot. How rough for a Japanese family, who are so conscious of correct behavior.

We finally left, and arrived in Bangkok quite late, or so it seemed to us. The sun was just setting as we got into our taxi. We had gotten a cash advance and had reserved a room in a hotel from the airport. It was weird to be in a "real" city again, with metered taxis, hotel desks in the airport, and highrises. It was great. Our driver, who surprisingly didn't speak very much English, took us to the New Trocadero Hotel, where we had sheets, our own bathtub with hot water and a shower, and TV. We ordered room service, watched the fireworks in celebration of the King's birthday (the Thais love their King, and there were huge portraits displayed in his honor in front of nearly every big building in town) simultaneously on TV and out the window, and tried to get hold of Steve and Lauren, friends of Paul's who were getting married that day. We kept getting their answering machines and finally ended up leaving heartfelt messages for both.

Bangkok -- 5 - 7 December 1998

I kind of fell apart in Bangkok, I guess returning to mere mortal status was too much for me. I got a really bad cold, then spent the night on the bathroom floor the night of the 7th (for no really good reason.) I guess it was just a stomach virus. At least it was over quickly if violently. I spent the first two days watching a lot of bad TV and trying to make the food service people understand that I wanted won ton soup and not prawn soup. We watched the opening ceremonies of the Asian Games at an outdoor bar, which were held in Bangkok, and took place at all only because the King felt it was important for the morale of the economically stricken Asian countries to have them. It was all done at cost or by volunteer efforts. This was on the 6th, the King's birthday was on the 5th. I was very impressed to learn that King Bhumibol Adulyadej, the 9th King in the Chakri Dynasty, and the longest reigning monarch in the world, not only wrote most of the songs in the opening ceremonies, but also wrote Thailand's national anthem. Makes Bill's sax playing look pretty ordinary.

Before the food poisoning, or whatever it was, I was feeling a bit better and was ready to do some sightseeing. We walked from our hotel to the Oriental, a five star accommodation, designed to be like Raffles in Singapore, another hotel I've goggled at but never spent the night in. We walked boldly in, past the signing warning, "No sandals" and "Proper dress required", both of which should have stopped us dead, but in Asia, unfortunately, white people can get away with a lot. We walked past the fire station to the Oriental boat landing, and took a water taxi north for just six baht each. It was a wonderful way to see the city, sitting low on the brown wide river with views of both shores. (Only later did I hear that these water taxis sink all the time.) We got off at Tha Thian and walked to Wat Pho, the Temple of the Reclining Buddha (although I believe Pho actually means bhodi tree.) Unfortunately, the temple was closed. Someone, an ordinary man, tried to make us understand that it was a holiday, maybe it was the long Monday of the King's birthday. In any case, the Wat wouldn't be open until the afternoon. The man then planned out an alternative schedule for our day, based in part on the things we wanted to see and the one other thing he thought we should see, whatever that was. We couldn't figure it out exactly. The man told us we could get a tuk-tuk driver for the entire day for about 40 baht. He even flagged one down and did the negotiation for us. Or perhaps he's a tuk-tuk pimp, and we were being had, but 40 baht is little enough to fear losing. We got in and were whisked away. The pollution was pretty bad, but otherwise it was a pleasant enough way to go. We arrived at our first destination, Wat Saket, or the Golden Mount. It was a bit hokey, as the temple is built on an artificial hill (Bangkok is very flat) but the views are nice and you can climb out to the rooftop (where it is very hot) and check out the golden stupa. Inside (downstairs) there were all kinds of Buddha statues, but the building was just white stucco, not anything special. We got drinks at the concession stand in the temple and walked back down the spiral staircase to the bottom of the hill. All around it were what looked like gravestones of dead people. Seems like a strange place to want to be buried.

Our driver wasn't there when we arrived back at the parking lot, but the drinks cart woman told us he had gone to get gas and would be right back. We walked around a little and met a man who raved about some export market, which was open to the public only once a year and today was the day. He recommended that we go. I said we thought we were, that it sounded like the other place the man who set us up with the tuk-tuk had mentioned. Our driver re-appeared and the export market was our next stop. But what a disappointment. I guess I'd been expecting a real market, with crafts, produce, etc. This was a very chi chi three-story building with jewelry and silk clothing. I certainly didn't need any gems at the moment. From the second we entered the place, a young Thai woman with an incredibly high-pitched and whiny voice followed us around, repeatedly asking whether we wanted to buy anything. I'm sure the dislike was mutual. Paul briefly considered having a suit made but then decided against it. We left and probably disappointed our tuk-tuk driver, who would almost certainly have made a commission for having brought us there.

Next our driver took us to Wat Traimit, the Golden Buddha. The Buddha had been covered in stucco in the 1500s to conceal its value from the marauding Burmese armies. It was done so well that the Thais themselves forgot that there was a better Buddha inside. The five-ton solid gold Buddha was only re-discovered when a crane dropped it, probably much to the relief and delight of the crane operator. It cost tourists 10 baht to see the shining Buddha, everyone else seemed to be able to get in for free. People brought in little squares of gold leaf and rubbed them onto the Golden Buddha and the other smaller images around him. He's getting heavier every day. We sat on the floor in front of him for a while, it was quite peaceful. Then Paul got an ice cream and I had a bottled water. (My stomach wasn't feeling 100%.) We were driven back to Wat Pho, or near it anyway. Our driver had told us at the Golden Buddha that he had an appointment and couldn't drive us anymore, so we'd hopped into a taxi that let us off on one side of the Wat but quite a ways form the actual entrance. We took photos of King portraits on the way and laughed at silly tour bus groups. Wat Pho was amazing, it's a huge compound, the largest and oldest in Bangkok. We got in line to see the 46 M reclining Buddha, lying on his side. The soles of his feet are made of mother of pearl. That was fine, but my favorite part was another temple in the inner courtyard. There was a beautiful golden Buddha sitting crosslegged on a high altar. Demons and angels surrounded him, as well as monks. Lots of candles were lit and we sat on a carpeted floor. Something happened in there, a God moment maybe. Both Paul and I sat transfixed for quite a long time and left with a feeling of extreme peace. When we came out, a would-be tour guide followed us around for a while, practicing on us and possibly expecting payment, although we finally shook him. It was late and the sun was setting over the Temple of the Dawn across the river. We took the water taxi back home and I spent the night on the white tiles of the bathroom floor.

Bangkok -- 8 December 1998

Paul went out to get train tickets to Chang Mai in the north of Thailand. He came back with them, but also with new resolve. "Let's just get out of here," he said. "You're still sick, Thailand obviously isn't the place for us right now. Let's just trade in these tickets and get some to Kuala Lumpur (KL). We'll move up our flight to Bali and just lay on the beach for a while." I hadn't even considered bailing on the plan, but I had to admit a change of scene might be good. I felt guilty because Paul had really wanted to do elephant trekking in the north, and now we wouldn't be able to do it because we were wimping out. But I wearily agreed and Paul went to see about changing the tickets. As it turned out, he could only get a 50% refund on the Chang Mai tickets and all the trains to Kuala Lumpur were booked because of the Asian Games and the King's birthday celebration. Paul got bus tickets instead, which showed his resolve to leave, because he hates busses. When we'd first arrived in Thailand, we'd switched our flight to Bali from KL to the 22nd of December. We just changed it back to the original date.