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Well now that I finally got the crash post out of the way, I suppose it’s time to catch up on my Thailand travels. Where better to start than Bangkok, and the infamous Khao San road!

I arrived from Ranong, fresh from my visa run in Myanmar, on an all-day bus to Bangkok’s Southern Terminal. It was a bustling station possessing a curious mix of modern mall and terminal-like structures next door to a chaotic and run-down local city station. Using the Lonely Planet’s instructions, I managed to locate the public local bus to Khao San road, otherwise know as backpacker ground zero for SE Asia. Having heard an overabundance of stories concerning the jostling party nature of Khao San road, I mentally prepared myself for the introduction.

The bus dropped me off on one of the main Bangkok thoroughfares. The presence of many foreigners indicated I was in the Khao San area, but so far the place just seemed like a typical big city street. However, as soon as I turned the corner and entered Khao San road, it was as if I crossed an imaginary border to another world. A world teeming with drunk and less-drunk backpackers and aggressive touts catering to the foreign presence.

Tipped off by Jon on a cheap place to crash, I resolutely made my way through the crowd. Along the way, I brushed off repeated offers of tuk-tuk rides, tailored suits, cheap buckets of booze, ping-pong shows (don’t ask), massages, and “massages”. The place Jon scoped out was located in an uninviting and dark back alley, a step away from all the action. Taking a moment to assess the alley, I was only reassured when I saw throngs of foreigners stream in and out of it. This alley fit an observation common to much of SE Asia that I’ve seen so far. Even if it looks like an alley you would only enter kicking and screaming back at home, in SE Asia it’s almost always just an innocuous avenue, one that is replicated ad nauseum throughout the city. Just another consequence of cramming people in an absurdly dense manner.

The guesthouse was a dump, a three-story building impossibly narrow. Situated above a hairdressing salon and cooking class, the guesthouse served as the third means of income for a hodge-podge of family members living on the ground floor. The family matched the uninviting exterior of the place. Without exception, every member was a classic example of what I call the “unfriendly Thai.” Let me explain.

Thailand likes to label itself the Land of Smiles. I believe this is a misnomer. A better name would be the Land of Mostly Polite People and Some Sour Grapes. I say this, because a surprisingly large number of Thais you meet as a tourist are quite surly. And the rest demonstrate an admirable politeness, but hardly ever the same manner of open friendliness you could may find in Indonesia, Laos, or Cambodia. This is notable because it’s such a contrast to Thailand’s reputation. I imagine a lot of it has to do with whether you travel to a place inundated with tourists or not.

And really, I couldn’t blame this particular family for being unfriendly. Living next to Khao San road and dealing with some of the degenerates that end up here would sour even the most friendly disposition. Even so, it wasn’t particularly fun to enter the guesthouse, as it required walking through the salon, the family sleeping quarters, and past a tiny family kitchen, all the while trudging by some or all of the surly family.

My room was a closet masquerading as a guesthouse room. No matter, it was clean and cheap, so I took it, sour grapes be damned! Jon was out of town for a couple of days on a side trip to Kanchanaburi, so after dropping my gear I set out for a bit of fun on my own. I didn’t make it very far. Walking on my way out of the back alley, I turned a corner and found myself facing a tiny bar tucked amidst a corner created by two different buildings. Named, “The Happy Bar”, the establishment literally consisted of one bar, a stereo, several stools, and metal gate for locking up at the end of night. With just enough room for his body, the bartender/owner slept on the floor after locking up.

Seeing me pass by, the owner yelled at me to join the little gathering taking place. I couldn’t pass this by, so I sat down for a beer. The clientele was roughly an equal mixture of local Thais and French woman. The women had decided to live permanently in Thailand, in order to enjoy a life filled with beaches, beer, questionable facial piercings, and copious amounts of pot smoking. I found it easier to talk to the Thais.

I called it a night soon after, and awoke the next morning in a sweaty mess from the heavy heat of my room. Determined to get a good day in of temple sight-seeing, I set out towards the Grand Palace. Along the way, a Thai man leaning on a railing complimented me on my shoes. An odd occurrence, since my only shoes are hiking shoes and are decidedly unfashionable. With the ice broken, we struck up a conversation. Eventually he asked me where I was going. When I mentioned the Grand Palace, he grimly shook his head and told me it was closed today. Brightening up, he offered me an alternative, suggesting I hire one of the innumerable tuk-tuks plying the street and sight-see some of the many Buddhas around town. This seemed sensible enough, so he led me to a waiting tuk-tuk, but not before providing me with some parting advice on price.

Now anyone reading this with a cursory knowledge of Bangkok should be shaking his or her head at my laughable naivety. You see, when a Thai anywhere near Khao San road seems to genuinely want to be your friend, chances are he doesn’t. When he tells you something is closed, it’s not. When you’re offered a cheap tuk-tuk ride, it’s only because the driver plans to drop you off at tailors and jewelry stores in the hope of procuring a commission.

For me, the most bewildering aspect of the whole situation, is that I read all about this beforehand, but for some reason my brain completely failed me, choosing to temporarily repress this crucial information (and common sense). It was only after I stepped in the tuk-tuk and it inched into traffic, did I remember. I let out a silent but emphatic curse.

Even so, I was lucky. My tuk-tuk driver turned out to be a fairly reasonable fellow. After taking me to two different Buddhas, including an impressively massive standing statue, he dropped me off at a tailor. After getting ushered inside, I made it clear that I wasn’t buying a suit today, and quickly made my exit. Somewhat dismayed, my driver took me to the next destination, but not before a little explaining. He told me how the scam works. Each of these stores will pay the tuk-tuk driver 100 baht if their unsuspecting fare stays for 10 minutes or longer. The driver makes his money from these stores and the fare he received me is quite insignificant. Since he was so upfront about it, I agreed that he could take me to two more of these stores, and he agreed to take me to some more interesting destinations afterward. Talking to some Lithuanian friends afterward, they told me their tuk-tuk driver sped off and stranded them when they refused to buy from these stores. So I was definitely fortunate.

So after a visit to an extraordinary sleazy jewelry store and another tailor, I spent the remainder of the day checking out additional sites. All in all, it wasn’t that bad of a deal. I got a day-long tuk-tuk ride and city tour, that really only cost me the time spent awkwardly and halfheartedly perusing two different establishments. I tried not to lead them on too badly. Really, I did.

Despite the sort-of-success of the day, the following day I set out on my own and on foot, determinedly ignoring all offers and compliments and avoiding tuk-tuks like the plague. And one day later than I planned, I manged to see the Grand Palace, the Emerald Buddha, and the Reclining Buddha in a satisfyingly uneventful manner. Great sites, but after two days straight of temples and Buddhas, I was ready for something else, something red….

A Boatload of Pics!

Thailand still uses glass coke bottles - Jon is particulary enthralled with this.

Inside view of the tuk-tuk scam

Giant standing Buddha

Giant Buddha toes!

Tuk-tuk? Where you going?

Try saying this name three times

Sentinels at the Grand Palace - the opulence of the place was truly astounding. Made me wish I was a Siamese prince...

Gilded structure at the Grand Palace

Not sure the signifance of this tree, but I enjoyed the chaotic tangle of its trunk

The Grand Palace had an endless and intricate depiction of the Ramayana epic. I loved it, and particularly appreciated this wild scene of Hanuman running amuck.

Workers maintaining Wat Pho (Temple of the Reclining Buddha)

Wat Pho spires

Monks making offerings at Wat Pho

Insane Skaffolding