tuktuk time
Monday, November 3rd, 2008Rachael writing…
Knowing we wanted to perform our civic duty by casting our special vote in the New Zealand General Elections while we were here in Bangkok, we located the embassy – just a short walk from an MRT stop. So why we took two tuktuks I am not sure. The MRT would undoubtedly have been quicker, but nowhere near as interesting or cheap, and tomorrow we would not have our driver waving out to us on the street!
Having negotiated a price, the drivers informed us (as we were expecting) that we would need to stop at just one shop. Our negative cries fell on deaf ears and we found ourselves agreeing to “just one stop”. Lined up outside the gem manufacturer were a couple of dozen tuktuks – how many other tourists were there under duress?
Intending to look briefly and be on our way, we changed our minds when we got inside. Both the workshop and showroom were most interesting!
Back in the tuktuk, everyone delighted in zipping through traffic, racing each other, brushing up against busses and motorbikes, inhaling exhaust fumes, shouting above the noise.
“Just one more stop”
“You take us to the embassy first, and then one more stop.”
I was pleasantly surprised to find Mr Driver both understood and agreed.
Ours were the only tuktuks on Embassy Drive (my name for the part of town that houses almost 30 embassies), and even then they only stopped briefly to let us disembark. “We no allow stop here. Meet you there after.”
Bangkok seems to be brimming with uniformed officials blowing whistles, and Embassy Drive has a disproportionate number of them. We couldn’t even cross the road without being short-sharp-whistled-at. And we were unable to enter the lift to the 14th floor without being accompanied by an excessively apologetic uniform, who proceeded to frisk and scan us and even check our water bottle bags before letting us through the glass doors into the office. That was after signing in, providing full details and passing a couple of other security checks. (Dragging along eight kids and an elderly gentleman was our decoy – we were really there to blow up the building eh! It’s OK – we understand…there are procedures to be followed.)
Protected from the hot outside world, we pounced on the New Zealand Heralds and settled down to not mind how long the wait would be. It was only later that we realised it was Monday and we were reading Tuesday’s paper – must have been a week old!
(Oh the fun we had taking this photo – got told off! Not surprising really when you think about it. But I hadn’t! And Grandpa would get in even more trouble in an hour when he unknowingly would take a photo of the American ambassador’s residence. Security guards would stop him, inspect his camera, make him delete the photo and show his passport! What incriminating evidence did he shoot? A water aerator that he’s interested in from an engineering point-of-view! Never mind, he’ll get another shot at a park tomorrow.)
Anyway, our duties completed, we checked out the toilets – even in this shining marble sterile tower there were cockroaches!
We were dubious about finding our tuktuks, but as we hadn’t paid we felt we had a moral obligation to at least try. Across the street, smiling and waving, the driver had probably been equally dubious about whether we would reappear!
“One more stop then we go back to the train station”
Fine by us; we were wondering how much we’d need to haggle for the return fare – looked like it was going to be included!
This time it was a tailor. Less interesting.
Just one more, near the station. Another tailor. Initially polite and welcoming, this Indian tailor quickly transformed into a disdainful rude piece, informing us we were not in a department store and would have to sit down to look at catalogues. When we countered that we were not buying he curtly ordered us out of his shop “Go quickly”. We were happy to oblige. We’re not sure Mr Tuktuk Driver will get his coupon or commission or whatever it is he gets from this guy, but he can’t have been too upset with his morning’s work, because when we got back to the station he insisted, “For free!” This time we insisted more strongly than him and paid the agreed price. At 50 baht (NZ$2.50) for each tuktuk, it was a small price to pay for an entertaining morning.
No, we didn’t need a tow this time!
rayres