The World in 100 Words or Less

My last day in Agra, 4 days ago, was an uneventful one.  I essentially spent the day moping around with a slight sense that I was becomng sick with something akin to the Flu.  This was perhaps the worst time to start feeling sick as it was destined to be a day of travel.  In Agra I had happened to meet two Americans who were heading in the same direction as me, so we decided to roll out together.  Somewhere in the day we ended up adding an older Indian fellow, who had been living in Germany for 40 years, to our group as well.  The americans ended up talking me into taking the train to Jaipur, despite the fact I had already set up a bus ticket, but I was able to cancel it.  Jaipur is considered the shopping Mecca of India, but none of us wanted to spend time there.  It is a congested city of tourists where every is trying to sell you something, which reminds me…

I must say one of the most dissapointing things, or perhaps just the reality of an impoverished country, about India is the way people treat you as a foreigner.  They are not outwardly mean to you or disrespectful in the classical sense, but the majority seek to take advantage of you in some form or another.  I have a hard time bringing myself to make such generalizations, but thus far, it has been my experience that 99% of the Indians I have met are trying to make a buck off of me.  Of the many offers to people’s homes for a “cup of chai” or a “bite to eat” I have been sold on trips to Kashmir, offered rugs and suits, indoctrinated with religion and brought to “cheap, good” restaurants.  Everyone’s generosity comes at a price.  I have found few genuine people. However, I believe that people such as myself are to blame for this.  We are the tourists, we have the money. We are seen as a way to get a step up in life, and why not take it? If I were as poor as some of the people I’ve met I would probably be doing the same thing.  The whole situation makes me sad.  The way a mother will use her child to beg for money to eat, the manner in which an older gentleman will push me out of the way at the train station counter so he can buy a ticket 5 seconds faster, or the worst, the seemingly friendly salesmen wishing to profit from my trust and naivete.  It is truly a change from Thailand, where there are no doubt touts and scam artists, but more of a sense of respect among human beings.  Here it is a battle between the plump cattle (tourists) and the flies seeking to just get a taste off our backs. I dont know whether it makes me a bad person for saying so.  I only hope I can help change it in some way.

Back to the trip: At 6 p.m. that day in Agra the two americans, Bo and Andy, and I boarded the train to Jaipur. Our German friend, Suvir, had decided to head elsewhere.  But, I must also back track for a moment.  Getting a train ticket was not without hassle or frustration.  In fact, it was a struggle up to the minute we stepped on the train.  Everything in India is horribly confusing and messy.  At first we were told there were no tickets to Japur for that train, then there were, then there were not, then there were only general seating (which is all too close to sitting in the trains used to cart jews during the holocaust), then we finally found we could get general seats and upgrade them on the train to a more comfortable sitting class.  So, after almost missing the train due to standing on the wrong platform, and then almost switiching trains because some asshole lied to us, we were finally on our way.  The train to Jaipur was only a 4 hour trip, so it would be easily travelling.  We ended up having full bench seats all to ourselves.  This was my frst real train in India.  I had taken a train to Agra, but it was in an impeccable air conditioned car complete with a meal, newspaper and a bottle of water.  THis train was open window, open door and full of freedom.  The three of us would sit in the doorways, are legs dangling out over the moving ground below taking in the farms, villages and train stations.  I felt like I was seeing the real India for the first time.  Not the huge cities or commercialized sites, but mud huts and villages rising out of fields into existence for no other reason, but that life could manage there.  The sun finally vanished from view, the last sliver dipping into the ground as we passed a mud hut where an old man sat in front of a tiny fire.

After four hours of bliss, my sick feelng from before returned.  We had arrived in the train station in Jaipur.  My original plan was to go to a small city called Pushkar, but Andy and Bo had convinced me to stick with them and go to Jaisalmer, a city far into the Indian desert close to the border with Pakistan.  Getting a ticket once again proved difficult.  Even getting to the appropriate booth was a challenge.  It was an obstacle course of sleeping bodies, people running and piles of trash.  Im sure once or twice I accidentally stepped on someone, but geez, it was hard to maneuver.  Again I had to get a general seating and this time i wasn’t at all clear whether or not I would be able to get a sleeper bed for the 14 hour journey overnght to Jaisalmer.  I had already been awake for 20 hours and my sckness was really starting to take root.  I was coughng up a storm and sweating though it was only 65 degrees or so.  The train arrived two hours after we had arrived in Jaipur, coming in right after 1 am.  A very helpful Indian musician and his wife helped me acquire the proper sleeping car ticket, which for the entire journey, cost a whopping $5.50. So expensive!!!  The sleeping car is the lowest class of the passenger coaches with beds.  It is without air-con and has three bunks stacked on top of each other in every row.  Sleeping is sort of a joke as I got nothing of the sort.  I tossed and turned all night, rising to snoring and bouncing of the car… suffering from fever dreams.  I was miserable.  I had brought no water, a serious mistake, and the pills I had taken dry were burning a hole in my empty stomach.  I had not eaten anything in 8 hours.  I felt that I was the only person awake in all of India and the thought made me jealous of the other 1.25 billion people.  I was tempted to scream and wake the entire country so they could understand my pain.  But I didn’t. As the sun rose 5 hours later, I managed to prop my body up and manage to read a couple of pages of “Kite Runner”, the book Bo had graciously lent me.  He of course slep like a baby, curled up snug as a bug in a rug in his sleeping bag.  I wanted to slap him in the face.

By about 10 am I was in real bad shape.  The tanted water available from taps at the stations we stopped at seemed tempting, but I controlled myself. A Jain couple that saw I was hurting took pity on me and graciously fed me some of their food: nuts, dried fruit, bread, cookies.  It helped to calm my stomach, though I was still dehydrated.  But with their caring gift, my image of India began to change.  There were good people here.  They kept me company, explaining to me the practices of Jain people (strict vegetarians, I suggest you learn a little about their religion, very interesting).  The train finally reached Jaisalmer, Bo and Andy helped me off and we got two rooms at a hotel in town.  I had barely noticed the beauty of the city.  All I wanted to do was drink some water and pass out for eternity. And so I did.

Upon arriving in Agra, home to the Taj Mahal, I quickly found myself a rickshaw (I was getting mobbed by about 20 drivers) and told him to take me to a hotel I had been recommended.  The drive to the hotel was less than eventful.  Not much to see: lots of military bases, shanty towns, industrial buildings, etc.  I had heard Agra, ironically, was not that pretty of a city despite its famous monument.  Eventually I was dropped off at the hotel, still having not seen the Taj.  I got a room, dropped my stuff off and headed to the rooftop restuarant where I was told I would get a glimpse.

I find in travelling that there are specific moments when it truly becomes apparent that you are not at home; where you realize that you are in fact far far away.  The beaches of Thailand was one instance of this, as well as being in Pai in the north.  But nowhere else has it struck me as hard as when I walked to the top of those cement steps, ten paces across the rooftop and turned left.  There it was, the Taj.  I was definitely not in Chicago.  The symbol of the Taj Mahal is many peoples first thoughts when the word India is spoken.  The Taj is an amazing structure, and something inside of me was truly fulfilled by seeing it.  It is not the most spectacular building in the world, it’s not the largest, or the most expensive, but it is grand.  Thousands of tons of marble expertly placed to create an almost perfect structure.  Precious stone inlays adorn the inside and outside, adding to its striking beauty.  It didn’t take my breath away, but it made me sit down and stare for an hour before I spoke again, asking for a Chai (indian tea with milk).  I was .5 km from on of the wonders of the world, and in those morning hours, still slightly wet with due, there was an overwhelming peace. While traffic raged below, honking horns, screaming people, the Taj absorbed the noise and bounced back pure solitude.

 After breakfast, I decided that I wanted to get a closer look, so I ended up hiring the same rickshaw driver to take me around for the day for a whopping 200 rupees (roughly 4 and a half bucks).  Being the idiot I am I never caught his name.  But he was a perfectly nice guy.  We went all around town, crossing the river to get a closer look at the Taj.  I had decided not to pay the exorbitant 750 rupees to go into the actual grounds of the Taj as that kind of money amounts to two days room and board.  There is so much more to see in India and I couldn’t bring myself to spend it.  The famous reflecting pool directly in front of the Taj apparently didn’t have that much water in it anyways, so I was pleased with my decision.  After talking to a young boy, Busyesh, who sold camel rides, about the construction and history of the Taj I hopped back into the  rickshaw and headed to agra fort.  Agra Fort is a huge sandstone structure, made up of many temples, ancient ritual rooms, and less pleasantly, an active Indian Military Base.  This was worth paying for.  The building was indeed impressive, walls 70 feet high, similar marble inlays as present on the Taj and much much more to see and learn about. Shah Jahan, the creator of the Taj in honor of his dead wife, was once imprisoned at Agra Fort by his son, Aurengzeb, where he apparently spent many hours gazing through his honey-comb marble windows at the Taj Mahal.

The rest of the day was of course spent aimlessly looking at marble creations, rugs, gem stones, Agra slums, people illegally smoking hashish, and drinking lots more Chai.  During this time, however, I learned alot about my rickshaw driver.  once, when Agra was even more industrial, before it was halted to the destructive effect it had on the Taj, he had been a shoemaker.  But, when the government shut down the factories he was left with being a rickshaw driver, where he makes less than half of what he made before.  However, this is still alot more than other people (he makes about 5,000 rups a month, the national minimum is 1800).  It really hit me just how well off we all are (as cliche as it may sound, it’s absolutely true).

Check off two more days on the calendar for walking around more, doing similar things and enjoying hanging out with fellow travellers from around the world.

Next Stop: Jaipur, the “Pink City”

A fellow traveller said to me, “Whether you hate India or love it, it’ll surprise you.”  Nothing could have been more accurate.

After 20 minutes spent with India’s most obnoxious and inept Customs agent, Talik _____, after drawing a map of my travels in Thailand, proving I had recieved the appropriate immunizations, offering to drop my trousers to prove I had no STDs (atleast visible ones, haha), and giving my entire family lineage (after my bathroom break), I finally was let into Delhi, India’s largest city.

Delhi Intl. Airport  is atually about 20 km outside of the town, so after haggling for 20m minutes with a cabbie, i finally agreed on a price that I couldhave recieved hassle-free from the pre-paid taxi service within the terminal. It was 5:40 am and I was tired.  I hadn’t slept or eaten in hours, almost 25, and I was truly ready to put my head down for the day.  I had already decided to stay in the Paharganj (known as the seediest of Delhi’s tourist areas) that day.  As we approached the city, the sun began to rise and unveil the sleeping giant.  More and more cars came onto the streets and I realized just how calm Thailand’s traffic was in comparison.  This country is F*cking nuts.  Traffic isn’t a nuisance, it’s a institution here.  As the cabbie negotiated carts, sleeping cows, cars, rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians, sidewalks, medians, and my sanity, we arrived at Paharganj. Dirty. the first word that popped into my head.  Though it was relatively quiet at 6 am (an amazing feat considering the huge railway station is across the street), I was nonetheless overwhelmed. I had officially left the relative comfort of Thailand.  Having lost my shoes in Chang Mai, Thailand, I hopped, skipped and jump over puddles of feces, cow pies, sleeping animals and people, dodged motorcycles and push bike rickhaws, all with one hand behind my back.  After checking out various shithouses, i mean guesthouses, I settled on Hotel Navrang, a decrepit, but charming establishment 20 metres off the Main Bazaar.  The place is run by “Boss”, a 65 year-old indian gentlemen, so called because, well, that’s what he calls everyone else.  The minute i was done with checking in, I ran upstairs and preceded to pass out for 6 hours.

I woke up to find Paharganj was in full swing.  Traffic had reached new levels of meaning in my mind. Sleepily, I attempted to open my eyelids, as little a possible because of the tense midday son.  I did notice that it was a hell of alot less hot than Thailand, though.  It was definitely more fragrant.  The smell of Indian spices mixed with cow shit and body odor was an interesting experience for the good ol’ olfactory center.  The streets are so alive with selling, scheming and buying that it really takes you a couple of days to adjust.  After 5 or so hours out, having seen the Connaught Place, famous for shopping and finance, and wandering around Pahar Ganj, I called it a day.

The next day I spent my time checking out some of Delhi’s historical sites: Red Fort (including Lahore Gate used to announce independence), the Ashok Pillar and general happenings of Old Delhi.  Brilliant, everything very interesting and entirely too much to explain.  Red Fort is massive, a symbol of India’s ever changing image. The Ashok Pillar, a steel sculpture that hasn’t rusted in 2,000 years, a symbol of India’s ever-lasting identity.  The markets, a melting pot of Indians, and home to half the world’s population of flies and mice.

Day 3, I must admit, I did essentially nothing.  I decided to take a break to acclimatize to my new surroundings and just talk with the guys that ran the guesthouse. 20 cups of chai and 10 chess games later, it was becoming dark outside.  The guys pulled out a couple of illegally aquired bottles of rum and explained to me, with the help of an Englishmen, what the hell was happening in the Cricket game on the “Telly”. England surprisingly was leading India for the first time in awhile in the “Test” (Match). At 6 am the next day, slightly hungover and confused, I boarded my first Indian train on its way to the Taj Mahal, a sight I only wanted to see so all of you wouldn’t ask me “how the hell did you skip that?”  You would have been right to ask.

It’s been two weeks since my last confession and I have sinned a lot father…

Just kidding.

So, I’m in Delhi, India now and you’re saying to yourself if you’ve been following along, “what the hell happened to Thailand?” Well, I got real comfortable and had trouble pulling myself away from monuments, temples, beaches, cafes and cool conversations to type out something here. But, I will attempt to do that now so get ready for a long one. I’ve since lost track of exactly what happened on what day, but we’ll see how it goes:

So we left off at Chang Mai i believe. I meant to stay one day, and I stayed four. CHang Mai is a lot like Bangkok with respect to its designation as a city, but that is the end of their shared path. Chang Mai is no doubt unique. Bustling with metropolitan happenings and the stamp of industry, it is at the same time home to an immense arts and crafts market (perhaps the best in Thailand) and a haven for people just having escaped Bangkok. Though some will dispute my feelings, Chang Mai is a quiet haven for me. If you need a shot of clubs and bars, they have it. If you need to see little children painting the umbrellas you get in drinks, they have that too. But for someone who has been running around the country, Chang Mai provides quaint little guesthouses with great common areas, even better people and very good food. FOr as little as twenty baht ($.50 US) you can get a very large helping of basil and chili chicken, rice (heaps of it) and a coconut pudding desert. And let me tell you, its quite filling. When I first arrived in Thailand I was, needless to say, skeptical of the street food. However, I found that more often than not its better than whats in the restuarants, just as safe and a hell of a lot cheaper. So for Thailand, street food it is (in India its a little different but we’ll get to that). So what did I do in Chang Mai? I basically said what I did before, nothing outstanding, but a lot of really good things, and for much less than anywhere else. One can easily get by on $10 a day and that’s including the occasional alcoholic drink (no worries Grandma, they’ve been very occasional).

After Chang Mai, on Naomi’s suggestion, I ventured to the even farther north city of Pai. Pai is known as “hippy central” of Thailand. Its a quaint little town, propelled purely by tourism and all that goes with it, in the mountain regions close to Burma (AKA Myanmar). As peaceful as it is, the ride there is less than enjoyable. In Chang Mai I had met up with a nice italian girl named Sara who had heard the cheapest way to get to Pai was by the local bus. Having taken local buses previously and enojyed the atmosphere, i quickly agreed to join her. The second bad idea in thailand. The road to Pai is up and down a mountain, taking approximately 4 hours with only one 15 minute stop in the middle. The road probably hasn’t been fixed in 20 years and the curves make any professional race track look like child’s play (Jason, you would love this road on a bike). Had I had a seat, perhaps I would have enjoyed it. But, my italian comrade was given the last one. I stood. 4 hours. in the heat. up and down a mountain with winding roads. right behind the engine compartment. melting sandals. stinky people. aching muscles. not happy.

Once we got to Pai my mood had been raised slightly. Anything was better than rocking back and forth on a bus whose driver deemed it acceptable to pass slower vehicles on a one lane, dead man’s curve (it was a long drop if he moved over a couple of inches. So after 121 km (I counted every marker stone that went by) Pai looked beautiful. It really isn’t that nice, just a little town in a valley but the backdrop of mountains 360 degrees around aint bad. There’s, seeing as its a hippy refuge, really not that much to do in Pai. Yes, you can work on your chakras or discuss energy with one of the many local yogis (for a price of course), but other than that, the pickings are slim. Gee Wiz, thanks Naomi. However, it you rent a bike (powered or not) there are some very cool villages that stick to the old ways outside of town. When me and Sara arrived, we ended up meeting another Italiana, Erica. Seeing as Sara was more of the lounge-around type, Erica and I checked out some of these villages with bicycles, just taking in the sites. Rice paddies, thatched huts, little girls in down jackets when its 95 degrees F (38 C) outside, interesting. OUr only mistake was not getting a motorbike though. After about 12 kilometres we were exhuasted. The road to these villages is literally all uphill and on shitty bikes, pretty hard to manage. Erica’s piece of work was stuck in low gear, so I had the pleasure (because im such a good guy) of switching with her. My shirt was soaked in minutes with sweat. But, keenly placed is a little refreshment stand outside one of the villages. for about 25 cents you can have yourself an ice cold coke in the glass bottle, thank god. THe way down was much nicer as it was all downhill and we sure as hell went as fast as we could (the road was empty and it felt like flying). The two nights there were spent drinking at a fantastic reggae and jazz bar, aptly named the Bepop Bar. There you could find a mix of locals ands farong (foreigners) lumped together on a hot dance floor all enojying the music together.

As I said, there really isn’t much to do in Pai. So after two days it was bon voyage and back to Bangkok on the overnight. I ended up spending another day in Chang Mai, but that was because of the bus schedules. Arriving back in Bangkok on Khao San road at 6 am was surreal as usual. The street is usually packed with vendors and travellers, but before the sun comes up, it looks like a ghost town full of trash. I tried to spend as little time there as possible. I picked up my India visa, booked my flight to Delhi and headed to Naomi’s house. The next three days were spent just wandering around town, trying to take in some of the culture I missed and hitting the fantastic weekend market again. Its unbelievable how much stuff they have there. You wont see the same stall twice even if you try, though you will see some of the same things over and over again (thanks to us tourists making it a must-see). At 2:40 a.m. on Wednesday (bangkok time) I said goodbye to thailand and hello to Delhi. The taxi ride to the airport was actually rather sad. I had just gotten used to Thailand, and was really enjoying its many flavors, but I knew there was much more to see on this journey. INdia was ahead, and I was extremely nervous. Whereas Thailand is easy travelling fdor tourists, I had heard India was completely different, always a surprise around the corner. So who knows what has become of me…

So it’s been awhile since I last updated. I must admit, the north is a very relaxing place to stay and the people are great, so it’s been hard for me to pry myself away from the couches and the markets to write this.

After another wasted day in bangkok, where my only two successes were getting my India Visa process started and booking a ticket to Delhi, I began to head north. My first stop would be Ayutthia, the old capital of Thailand. Ayutthia was sacked in the late 18th century by what is now modern day Myanmar (aka Burma). It was a beautiful city of numerous Wats, Shrines, Palaces, and fine Buddha images. Now what remains are a series of ruins. The Buddha statues have their heads chopped off,the palaces have been burnt to the ground, a few walls made out of brick remaining. But, walking around this once immense city gives you a glimpse into “medieval” and “renaissance” thai culture. In fact, the city was so large, that some estimates place it as the biggest city in the world for its time, both in sheer area and in population. But it suffered the all to common fate of a city that had grown beyond itself, beyond its own control.

For anyone interested in Thai architecture this is a must-see as the Thai buildings are amazing. Many of them made out of red-clay brick, similar in appearance to the town houses of the USA, the Thai kings had huge shrines created for the remains of their relatives and large temples built that housed thousands of monks. One of the most filmed image of thailand is the image of the head of Buddha in the form of a statue with overgrown tree roots partially covering it. It remains as one of the only existing heads of Buddha in all of Ayutthia’s ruins and provides interesting theories of how it got there. Surprisingly though, it was a little dissapointed. I was expecting a huge 6 or 7 ft tall head under a huge tree, when in reality I almost walked right by the damned thing without noticing it.

After a full day in the hot and humid air of modern Ayutthia, I was exhausted. Seemingly so were the skies. No longer able to hold the weight of all the humidity in the clouds, it poured like no other. It was the first time I really saw it rain and thailand, and so far, the only time. Everyone took shelter under whatever they could find, poor motorcyclists arrived at their destinations drenched, and the streets flowed with an interesting shade of brown. I was just happy it cooled off a little bit and I had a place to read. SO I sat back in the train station and waited a whole 4 hours for the train to Chang Mai, Thailand’s second largest city.

Chang Mai:Let me first say, taking the train instead of a bus is a beautiful thing. The train provides those little creature comforts that make an 11 hour journey not so bad. Whereas the train is cramped and almost painful for someone of my height, on the train I get my own bed, complete with all of the fixings. Now of course I pay 3 times as much, but it all adds up to about 13 dollars, so not bad. Well worth it to get a full nights rest, especially after the smoldering day before. I get into Chang Mai in the morning, as the sun is rising over the mountains and onto the rice paddies and through the windows of the train. I decide that I’ll buy the ridiculously over priced breakfast offered by the all-too-eager waiter, so that im fresh for Chang Mai and finding a place to stay. BAD IDEA. For the first time in my life, breakfast does me in. Off all the crazy street food i’ve eaten, from questionable curries to scorpions and grasshoppers, eggs over easy and a little piece of Ham has me puking all morning at an internet cafe. And to think, I paid triple the usual price of breakfast to be sick. I’ve actually been going back to the same internet cafe where I puked because I wanted to give them some business in exchange for the mess I left in the bathroom.

So here I’ve been in CHang Mai, relaxing with fellow travellers, going to night markets, clubs, and watching movies.  And to think, I wasn’t even going to go to this place.  It turns out it’s been one of my most enjoyable stays.

More to follow as usual….

Day 9: After 2 days on the beach,  Aaron and I had had enough.  It’s a very relaxing place to be, but when you want to be seeing all of the sites and exploring the culture, it falls short of your end goals.  I will say though that Koh Lanta was quite an interesting place.  Unlike most of Thailand which is buddhist, the island was instead inhabited by a fishing community of some 20,000 muslims of malaysian descent.  Our travel agent who booked our trip back up to Bangkok was more than happy to discuss religion and especially the increasingly tense situation in Far South Thailand (in between his puffs of a joint).  The muslim culture at Koh Lanta is, not surprisingly, very different from islam in the States.  It has a distinctively asian feel to it, in which they had adapted many beliefs of their previous reiligions and cultural ideas.  But anyways, I’ll move that segway back over to our trip back up.

SO we get on the little minibus to take us to Krabi, a resort town on the mainland, where we find that the driver is amazingly the most ignorant and idiotic person to ever be born.  As we pick up more people from various other resorts we’re surprised to see that he often doesn’t know where they are, on his own island! Let’s be clear, there really aren’t that many and they all have signs at the main road (the only paved one on the island).  So after an hour and a half of watching him attempting to drive a manual car, talk on the phone, and look at a map, we finally reach the ferry which will take us to the next island where we catch yet another ferry to krabi.  Talk about island hopping.  We finally reach Krabi and stop at what we think is our bus stop.  LIttle do we know that because of the driver’s poor off-roading skills we’ve got a flat tire and he took us to the first bus stop that he could think of.  And we’re already late for our bus!!  The other passengers and I are fuming, everyone needing to go somewhere different, and everyone on a tight schedule.  At this point Naomi, my new friend from Bangkok, pops up into my head.  I remember her telling me about one of the favorite phrasesn of Thai people, “Mai Pen Rai”, roughly translated as “no worries”.  Everything is no worries, and thai time is usually about an hour behind everyone elses watch.  SO there we are, freaking out that we’re getting screwed and will end up having to stay a night in Krabi, paying yet more money, becuase the disorganized bus system will definitely not fit the bill.  And to make matters worse, its raining, so we can’t even have a relaxing day on the beach like the day before.

Out of nowhere, our chariot arrives, a minibus that will take us to Surat Thani, to catch a different bus there.We skeptically board and find out that it’s not so bad after all, accept for the young Aussie girls next to us that wont stop talking on their phones, but they’re tolerable.

day 10: After 16 huors of travel (including having to suffer through “XXX:state of the union” and “The Scorpion King”) and a beutiful ride through rubber tree plantations and palm groves we arrive back at bangkok, tired, smelly, and hungry as usual.  Aaron and I get a room at the place we were staying at the last time in Bangkok and quickly fall fast asleep.  Cheers to the closest thing to home. After some calls home and some good old street food I spent the day lounging around, badly needing a break from the ridiculous journey.

Day 11:

So It’s been awhile since I last updated this blog, due to high internet costs in some areas and because, well, the beach was really nice and who wants to spend time on the internet instead of with beautiful women (just kidding grandma)? So, I’ll start from where I left off way back on day 4:

Day 4 turned out to be very different than originally planned.  My new buddy, Aaron, and I were trying to get to chinatown, walking down the streets, checking the map, when we finally asked someone who told us it was a one hour work from where we were. No big deal right? hell, on this trip I’ve been walking everywhere because Bangkok traffic is so bad.  So we started walking, down alleys with “fragrant” smells, down streets lined with huge golden buddha statues and down boulevards where we were peppered with “you want tuk tuk?” (tuk tuks are “taxis” that are motorcycle powered rickshaws for those familiar with that). But then, we came across a sign that said “Golden Mount left”.  I had heard of the Golen Mount, built over 100 years ago by a previous king, so we figured we check it out.  Little did we know it was one of the great highlights of Bangkok.  After roughly 300 stairs, we arrived at the top of a golden temple with 360 degrees of Bangkok view.  Until then, I hadn’t realized just how bigthe city was.  It spanned so far that we couldn’t see the end.  Miles and miles of skyscrapers, shantytowns, rivers, highways and action.  But on top of the mount, all was quiet.  It was heaven.  SO we stood there for an hour, as the monks cleaned the very pinnacle of the mount by hand, standing on bamboo scaffolding and just observed something so large that from the street we had not appreciated it.

At night, our travels were less interesting.  We had scheduled a bus to go to Khao Sok that would take roughly 14 hours.  So we hopped on the bus back at Khao San (pushed on like cattle by the bus operator) and quickly watched as the big city melted into hazy rural countryside.  As the sun set, all that was luminated were the always burning flourescent lights of street vendors and shops dotting the highway.  I laid back, closed my eyes, and fell off into a deep slumber. An hour later I awoke to our choreographed stop of overpriced sandwiches, which i skipped and fell back asleep. When I awoke again, it was day 5.

Day 5: It’s 6 am and we’re at Surat Thani, a small little town that serves as a ground transportation hub for the south of thailand.  Groggy, sweaty and smelly, Aaron and I disembarked and eventually booked our ticket to Khao Sok, the National Forest Preserve.  As we arrived at Khao Sok, the sun had finally risen and it was a new day.  At the entrance to Khao Sok town, we hopped on to one of the free taxis (sitting in the back of a truckbed) that took us to one of the few available accomodations in town.  The place we were taken to turned out to be really nice and was run by the park warden’s family.  It was a cozy little hotel of roughly 6 bungalows, though ours was more like a tree hut as it was 30 feet in the air.  The room was about the size of a walk-in closet but had great mosquito nets to protect against the local bloodsuckers so we were happy.  We decided to take a little hike before the park closed at 4 pm, so we grabbed some water and headed into the park.  We were dissapointed to find that the trail was more like a huge road, most likely carved out by a bulldozer or big truck.  Not the picturesque forest we had imagined, yet still beautiful, we hiked to the first waterfall on the map.  It was nice, but more like a set of rapids that falling water. That was all we had time for that day so we huffed it out (about 10 km/ 6 mi. round trip) and grabbed some dinner.  Later we found out from a couple from Germany that there was a water swimming hole at one of the other lodges in town that also was home to a large group of monkeys.  We arrived at the Monkey Swimming Hole to find a gorgeous pool of water with a steep, cliff backdrop covered in trees and Monkeys!! it was a truly beautiful sight. So we hung out, watching the monkeys play.  Some people bought bananas and fed them to the monkeys who were more than happy to eat up the local delicacy. I ended up finding that the monkeys were very approachable.  I walked up to one in a tree holding a stick for hm to grab and sure enough he took it right out of my hand and started nibbling on the end.  Then he threw it down, probably dissapointed that the human hadn’t given him food. Encouraged by this, I must of done it another 10 times until the monkey got mad at me and started swinging, haha.  We called it a day early, saving our energy for a long hike the following day.

Day 6: its 8 am, we’ve awoken (right word?) an hour later than planned.  We get a quick breakfast of pad thai (yes, pad thai) and head out onto the trail.  To give Khao Sok its credit, its a collection of beautiful green mountains and limestone cliffs that jet up into the sky in ways that you dont see in the states.  Some of these mountains are so thin that you feel you could walk up to them and tip them over.  We head out on the same trail deciding to go to what is ocnsidered the greatest waterfall in the park.  Little do we know that the distances marked on the map are grossly underestimated.  But, on a high note, after the first waterfall we had reached the previous day the trail actually turns into a challenging path that cuts a thin curvy line through the rainforest. Completely shaded from the sun, we follow the path of the river, climbing over trees and down valleys, always shaded by the tall growing foliage.  The path is grueling, and after an hour, my shirt is soaked with sweat, a first for me.  Even out of the sun, the heat and humidity are like nothing i’ve ever felt.  I’ve seen backpacking trails wider than this.  I couldn’t even imagine carrying a 50 pound pack for more than a couple of miles.  Guided by the rudimentary map given to us at the visitors’ center, we finally reach the turn off for the waterfall, Tan Sawan.  Unfortunately, the map doesn’t show that this means crossing the river at one of its deepest points than hiking up a mile of river bed (later, we realized someone had sorta mentioned this to us casually).  After a half-hour of debating as a light drizzle falls from above, we decide to cancel our visit to that waterfall and head to one on the main path that looks like an easier trek.  Mind you that the 6 projected km of travel given by the map is more like 10 or 12.  We didn’t go that far not to swim in a nice cold pool of water so 5 km later we finally get to… i forget the name actually. 

The waterfall turns out to be a trickle but the pool in front of it is magnificent.  Set between to adjacent cliffs, and not more than 30 feet apart, the wading pool is a beautiful sight and a welcomed rest.  I quickly strip down to my shorts and dive right in (not such a safe idea in retrospect).  However, the water is plenty deep, nearly 15 feet at some points.  We meet up with a couple of Brit Ex-pats from Egypt and their goofy, young guide who turns out to work at our lodge.  We had decided not to take a guide as it was expensive and we had both had backpacking experience.  This turned out to work perfectly.  After an hour of enjoying the sounds of the rainforest and cooling off in the fresh water, we swim out of the pool after a little crocodile scare (that amned guide and his jokes.  The little prick threwpieces of pineapple into the water, fish jumped up and grabbed them and he told us it was a crocodile. I coulda killed him, but it was a little funny).  Despite the forest’ beauty, we actually saw very few animals apart from geckos and what not, despite hearing gibbon and monkey calls.  The guide told us that every 10 years or so someone spots one of the park’s tigers and that its quite a sight indeed.  The tigers are actually very shy and seeing one is really good luck.  Another rare occurence, one that we did not have the luck to witness, is the sighting of a white elephant, once prized by the monarchies of southeast asia for there rare beauty and stunning color.  Heading out with the brits, their guide (whose always playing pranks) and Aaron, we head all the way back out along a trail thats not even on the map but the kid (guide) seems to know pretty well.  All and all, we hiked about 12 miles or so, counting as the number one hardest trip i’ve done since Isle Royale for those who are familiar with my past adventures.

ONce we catch a quick dinner and conversations with some of the locals about thai politics, we hail a local bus that takes us down from the mountainsjust as the sun is setting.  Its a welcome break with beautiful views of what I consider to be the real Thailand. ONe bus later and we’re in Phuket, the famous beach spot of thailand, but its 12 am and all we want to do is hit the sack, exhausted from the day’s journey

day 7: Aaron and I definitely slept in.  Trying to wake up at 7 am, we get up at 9:30.  The goal for the day is to get to one of the islands, Koh Lanta.  After walking around Puket City, a grungy, unimpressive town, we hitch a ride to one of the piers where we get ripped off on the last boat to the islands. Its an hour and a half journey to Koh Phi Phi (Ko Pee Pee), a beautiful island with a little beach town that connects the two mountains of the island.  ONyl about 40 metres thick, the town is lined with beautiful beaches and people.  This is the expensive island of the area.

 Aaron and I have 3 hours until the boat to Koh Lanta so we bop around townlooking at the overpriced goods and catching a bite to eat.  However, for the first time we finally see the real effects of the tsunami.  On the wall of a locals’ house we see before and after pictures of this once more sleep resort town.  What used to be covered in palm trees and nearly 50% larger in area, was completely decimated by the tsunami.  A local tells us that many people, both tourists and locals, died in the powerful waves that swept right through the town.  Ironic enough, the only standing structures after that were the more expensive places to stay, the bungalows having washed into the see, sometimes sadly with their occupants.  We block that sad image out of our head, have a drink and hop on the boat to koh Lanta. This time the boat is not air conditioned or even big enough to sit outside, so everyone is cramped in a stifling box, with the windows closed (due to the waves) and the pungent smell of the 15 litre engine only a thin wall away.  As we arrive we quickly jump out to breathe in fresh sea air with only the slight odor of rotting fish, but much better than petrol.

At the pier, we catch a taxi to one of the resorts wherre they have “beach bunglows” and “sandy beaches”.  This turns out to be less than accurate the beach is rocky for more than half the day during low tide and the bungalow is a good 80 meters from the water.  Even worse, the owner has these two guys (one from Seattle and one New Zealander) trying to sell us on how great the place is.  We got so turned off by these two shitheds (sorry for the language grandma) who were probably getting cheap accomodations to get people to stay, that we decide to just walk up the beach and find some plce more adequate.  As the sun is setting on a perfect crystal blue sea, we find a great place called the Sanctuary about 4 km closer to town.  Its a sleepy little resort full of hippie ex-pats and there little kids and proves to be a peaceful place to relax for a couple of days.

Day 8: Beach, nothing but the beach. nothing more to say.

MOre to come, but thats quite a lot of writing for one day. Hello to everyone back home!!! And if you want to support my trip, i’d be more than glad to pick up one of the great knock-off garments or bags available in Bangkok for ya for a very, very reasonable price.  Email me for more details.

Day 3: Today I decided that I would leave the comfortable, air-conditioned abode of my friend Naomi and commune with the other poor travellers on the famous Khao San road. To ge there, I would yet agani have to go through the traffic of Bangkok. TO be cear, BKK traffic is among the worst in the world. The drivers are crazy, the motorcyclists even worse, and the lights can have you waiting 4 minutes for a green. The taxis are always interesting, because either the driver is fast and nearly gets you killed every minute or painfully slow attemtping to conserve gas (my least favorite). Of course, on my longest taxi trip as of yet, I got a slow one. Mr. Khaison, as his identification card said, was ex-military and a fan of street racing, thuogh you wouldn’t know from his sloth-like driving skills. After 45 minutes of holding my tongue about narrowly missing lights and taking extremely congested streets, the man has the audacity to stop at a store and get a bottle of water, and he didn’t even get one for me!!! I was furiuos, and told him to chop 50 baht (39 baht=1 us dollar) off the taxi ride, which was about a third. Surprisingly he agreed, because he sure as hell didn’t want me walking off withuot giving him nothing. SO after an hour, with the air condiitoning surprisingly “no work” for the time after our argument, I arrived at Khao San.

I found myself a nice little room on the main street that was clean enough, but not great. Atleast it was better than one of the rooms i checked that had cockroaches the size of your fist running along the floor. The place ended up saying has been great though. I quickly made friends with 4 of the other travellers: Aaron, Max, Remco, and Svenna (USA,USA,Holland,Germany). I spent he rest ofthe day hanging out with them, just walking around buying stuff at the many markets, which turned out to be great. The road really affords good friends, and travellers are always more than happy o introduce themselves. Meeting people has become one of my favorite parts. LIke on Day 2 when I ended up getting sloshed with a bunch of thai guys and their girlfriends at this local’s place not far from Naomi’s house. Not that I remember all of the night, because they were kind enough to buy the last 8 rounds (the beers are about a litre big and are 6 point. whew!!)

Day 4: Today I’m off to Chinatown which is supposed to be great and I’ve also booked bus tickets with Aaron down to Surat Thani, which is far in the south. The bus will take all night, but we got a good deal, which ended up costing as much as one night’s stay at the hostel, so not bad all things considered. From Surat Thani (pronounced s-ir-a-t t-a-n-ee) we’ll be heading off to Khao Sok, a beautiful natonal forest preserve with great hiking and from what Naomi tells me, great culture.

This post got destroyed so sorry if it seems scattered or incomplete.

I finally arrived two days ago at midnight, called my new friend Naomi whom i’m staying with (it only took this tech-savvy boy 5 ties at the phone), and hopped into a taxi to awake at Naradhiwas 24 (her street).

Day 1: I awoke to a bustling and hot city. Naomi and I ventured off to the massive weekend market to look around. This market is home to thousands of sellers (everything from live chickens and beetles to clothes and knock-off bags) and each Saturday and Sunday brings in over 200,000 visitors. Naomi and I take in the many sites of this open air market and take a break at the end to enjoy some pad thai and a cold beer. The beer is especially welcome as I decide I rather pass out from alcohol than sunstroke.

At night, We head off to Pat Pong, the famous red-light district of BKK. Surprisingly, between getting asked if I want a friend or if I wanted to see a show, there qere quite a few street vendors selling food and all kinds of other items. Pat Pong has turned into a family-oriented hornball location where we saw quite a few kids. Sorry, no sex shows this time (Cuz Rob, you’ll just have to wait to get your jollies off.) Its actually a great place to hang out, get some sushi as we did and drink some beers.

Day 2:
I woke up early this morning to start really touring the city. First I hopped a taxi to the river, then took an exciting and interesting trip down the rive on a boat. I saw everything from grand hotels and temples to decrepit little homes that looked like a big wave would wash them away. Its a great place to get a slice of thai life.

My first stop today was Wat Pho (temple Pho), the largest buddhist temple in BKK. It is a colorful complex full of great sanctuaries, gardens, and chinese style animal statues. Its greatest sight is the enormous reclining Buddha, a 151 ft. long, 49 ft. high statue of the Buddha laying on his side. Its covered in gold leaf and evokes pure awe. The building it is housed in is not too shabby itself, as Wat Pho is considered BKK’s original school. pots in front of the Buddha where it represents good luck. I donate 20 baht (50 cents) for a flower, incense and a candle which are good luck. I place the flower in the water where it will blossom (but I have a feeling they’ll throw it out before it has the chance). Adjacent to this pot is a place to light and “plant” the incense and candle which are fragrant and intoxicating. But the Reclining Buddha is not the only image to be had there. A sprawling complex made up of many seperate sancuaries, Wat Pho’s architecture is classic thai, and classic beautiful. So very colorful.

Well, I had a long thing about the Grand palace and Khao San road but it looks like it just got erased, so Ill shorten it here:

The Grand Palace is a massive complex right next to Wat Pho that is home to the Royal family and was once the center of governmental affairs. It is a beautiful area full of temples, shrines and governmental buildings. But be careful where you take a picture, because a guards with rather large guns are always there to tell you when its not appropriate. Among its many possessions, the Palace is home to the famous jade Buddha. Its a image of the Buddha sitting cut out of a pure block of jade. It has quite a history and is treated as a prized possession of the country (I suggest everyone checks out the history of it which is amazing and long, so I wont retell it).

My last stop for the daylight hours was Khao San Road, home to hippies, backpackers, shops, piss smells, and many bars, cafes, and hostels. Khao San is your typical backpacker haven, lively all the time (except when everyone is hungover), but after two hours of bopping around I’ve had my fill.

That’s all for today, but its only 4:30 and there’s plenty to do at night. more to follow as usual!!

So I have completed my first leg of the trip! The flight from Bangkok was a breeze as it was completely empty (or close to) and I had a nice little spread set up across 5 seats in the middle of the plane. One seat for my magazines, one for my food, one for my cell phone, and I took the last two to sleep. So at this point you’re wondering what the title of this addition is all about…

Arriving in Tokyo was needless to say slightly surreal. it dawned on me: I’m actually going through with this nonsense!!　I’m doing it! But in the end im relieved. I already feel like I’ve started a new chapter in my life. but this all proves to be boring copy. What about pleasing the ladies?

My first thought of tokyo was how nice people were. Everywhere in the airport I went people acknowledged my presence,　smiling, muttering something I didnt understand. I was actually really nice. You feel important even though you’re not. My second thought of course was how bad I had to go to the bathroom because of all of the Cokes I drank on the plane. SO who would assume there’s a surprise in the bathroom? I walk in, everything as would be expected; there are urinals on one side, stalls on the other. But there is this old woman who I assumed was part of the cleaning staff of the airport. It threw me off that she was in there. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was proper to relieve myself while she was in the room of sorts. I had always thought of japanese culture as very　proper and my little time in the airport up til then had reaffirmed this. So I took the plunge, I unzipped my fly and wizzed away in the urinal farthest from the woman. At first she paid no attention to me. Then to my surprise, she began going urinal to urinal checking for something. In the few moments of embarrasssment and terror that followed my only conclusion is she was checking for urinal cakes (for the ladies, thats not a piss pastry we eat, but a little bar of glorified soap that makes everything smell dandy). So there I was, barely able to get a drop out, and her approaching. I froze not knowing what to do as she finally reached the urinal next to mine. She looked into my eyes, I looked into hers and then she did it… she peered around my side into the urinal where my scared member and urinal cake waiting patiently. She giggled, of which Im not sure what it meant, but was seemingly surprised about something and then ran out of the bathroom like a little girl. I stood perplexed, finished my business, and left with the satisfaction that I had brought levity to an aging woman half way around the world from my home.

And later today, I will finally get to bangkok. more to follow…