Sox and Slobs…
Pretty crazy and disjointed week. Prepare yourselves for a disjointed blog entry. Here goes…
Made it back to Bangkok in one piece. Was still chuckling over my final night in Railay, and resolved to be less of a planner and to go with the flow. Easier said than done, given my ever-present ‘smartphone’ with calendar…but I decided that at the very least I’d devote very little mindspace to augmenting the calendar listings. I’d be ‘random’ about tackling my various tasks and appointments…
That very night I had an important appointment (the Japanese always use that English word for their dinner engagements, etc. – it’s a bit formal and is probably better suited for doctor checkups but I like it anyway). Alan and Janine, my English friends from Philippines days, were in Bangkok – our paths were crossing for the first time since late June, in Coron. Four months ago – and we had taken two different (but sometimes similar) routes across Southeast Asia. A & J had spent a couple months in Malaysia, diving at Sipadan and getting to see real village life by volunteering for several weeks. I was curious to hear all about that, and to fill them in on my various (mis)adventures. We read each others’ blogs (theirs is at http://www.kingmackay05.blogspot.com), so we at least were partially clued in. I was really looking forward to seeing them – I’ve met lots of people during my travels but these two were my favorites.
We met at Water Bar on Soi Rangnam – Bob and I walked over from Starry Place Apartments to the bar, and after a few beers Alan & Janine pulled up in a taxi. A few hugs later, we were all seated outside and everything was flowing. We discussed pretty much everything under the sun that night…first, at Water Bar, where I believe we worked our way through 38 beers. I should mention that we were assisted by Bob’s friend Jan, one of the world’s most impressive drinkers – 38 beers is his usual nightly intake. Then, at around 2 a.m., Water Bar was closing and Alan and I had both voiced our knowledge of/appreciation for the national whiskey, Sang Som – and with Jan leading the way, we found ourselves at a street corner bar with an icebucket-chilled bottle of Sang Som and a few small bottles of soda.
Alan and Bob got into an argument about soccer/football. I drank a lot of whiskey – so did Jan. At some point we finished the bottle of Sang Som, and it was a natural point to call it a night. But somehow Jan ordered another bottle and we just went with it. Truth be told, we all (save Jan) could have called it a night after Water Bar…or after Sang Som #1. But I’d resolved to relax and not be too controlling about these matters. A few prostitutes littered the tables nearby. Bob was very drunk and had a huge shit-eating grin across his face, even as Alan demolished each and every one of his soccer arguments. We finally finished bottle #2 and stumbled home, with a good goodbye to A & J. Not sure when we’ll see each other again, I am trying to entice them down to Goa, but it may be Kathmandu, where they hope to do more volunteer work, that will be the place.
Game 1 of the (baseball) World Series was the next morning at 7 a.m. local time. I got back to the room and checked my watch: 5:10 a.m. Yeesh. My longest night in many moons, and I was seriously planning to arise to catch the entire game. I set my alarm and laid down. A great night – but as Alan later wrote in an email, we may want to at least start with lunch next time – so much drinking and cross-conversations happening that night that it was challenging to have enough time to simply banter…
One funny note: A & J had met my Dutch traveler friend Nienke in Cambodia. You might recall that Nienke and I met in Hue on a motorbike tour of the city…then randomly met on the street in Hoi An, and talked about her upcoming Hoi An-Dalat Easyriders bike tour. A & J had met her in Cambodia after that (I believe in Siem Reap or Battambang). I can’t recall how this came up when we were at Water Bar, but it did, and we’re quite sure it was the same woman we all met. The Southeast Asia backpacker circuit is smaller than it appears on maps…
I did get up at 7 a.m. to watch the game. My head hadn’t hurt that badly in months – at least since my 40th birthday party’s aftermath. But it was fully expected and all I had to do was lay in bed and watch Boston Red Sox ace Josh Beckett shut down the Colorado Rockies for the Game 1 win. That eased the pain, and I felt optimistic about Boston winning the series for the 2nd time in 4 years. Talk about a reversal of fortunes…the Red Sox, perennial bridesmaids, were finally practicing polygamy and I couldn’t get enough of it.
After the game I was essentially useless. I did drag myself over to the nearby Century Mall for lunch…and on the way back to I saw Bob, about to do the same and looking very, very haggard. We promised to get together that night, my last in Bangkok, but to make it mellow. Went back to my room and read a recent edition of The Economist – noticed an article about Libyan tourism that had a quote by a former colleague of mine, Rajeev Singh-Molares. Random.
Last night in Bangkok. Energy levels were low. Bob, Kate and I took the Skytrain over to Silom, where we chose Molly Malone’s Irish Bar for dinner. The guitarist was playing a Pink Floyd tune and Bob and I felt right at home. Afterward, we trolled around nearby Soi Thaniya and had a final beer at Barbican Bar. Soi Thaniya is full of Japanese-style hostess clubs and there were a few drunken, redfaced J-salarimen stumbling from bar to bar. Reminded me the ‘Entertainment districts’ of Tokyo, my former home…
Game 2 of the World Series was the next morning, again at 7 a.m. I had to fly to Mumbai around 4 p.m., so the timing was good, as it has been throughout the baseball playoffs. I had access to ESPN, and didn’t have to check out till noon, so I was safe. We also wound up taking this one, behind the pitching of old hand Curt Schilling, so we were up 2-0 in the best of 7. But these two games had been at Boston’s Fenway Park, which opened in 1912, the same week the Titanic sank. The next 3 games would be in Denver, and might have a very different outcome.
One of the many TV commercials was for ‘Big Love,’ a US show featuring a Mormom fellow and his multiple wives. I’ve never seen it, and have no idea if it’s a comedy or more of a social statement…but I did think it fitting that Thais will have a chance to see it. Polygamy was only outlawed here in 1932 and many Thai men still have ‘minor wives’ and there’s all sorts of other shenanigans going on. Monogamy doesn’t really seem to have captured the hearts and minds of many people here just yet…
Said bye to Bob, who had some Indian rupees that I was happy to buy from him…checked out of the hotel…in my haste (always bad) I nearly forgot the laundry I had given them to do. But I got that, and stepped into the cab. Later, I’d find that the hotel had lost a fave blue shirt of mine…déjà vu. They later found it and gave it to Bob to hold for me…not sure when the handover will take place. Watch your laundry carefully, ladies and gentlemen.
Had my usual reaction as I headed to Suvarnabhumi Airport – felt a bit sad about leaving Thailand and Southeast Asia, with it many many charms and user-friendliness – but was also excited about plunging back into India and Goa, a place so exotic and insane that it colors every moment with emotion. As for user-friendliness – well, no one’s ever accused India of having that characteristic.
Uneventful flight on Air India – which is about all you hope for from that carrier. The India immigration card had a category covering ‘reasons for entry,’ and one option was ‘pilgrimage.’ I love it. I ended up just checking the ‘tourism’ box but I think everyone who bothers to come to this place is making a pilgrimage of sorts.
Mumbai’s Sahar (sorry, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj) Airport was shockingly calm. Felt like things were just getting ready to get wild…and I later learned I was right, because Beyonce Knowles was landing in an hour. I just got my bags and got a cab to the city…you just don’t want to hang around that airport any longer than you need to. It’s slightly less mad than it was in ’92 when I landed there for the first time, a clueless kid looking for a company driver who wasn’t there. Then, drivers fought over my duffel bag and tried to carry it to their cab, while I tried to make sense of it all. That’s a mistake in India – there’s often no sense at all.
In this entry I’m not going to provide much backstory, by the way – all of that can be found (along with lots of Mumbai photos, etc.) in the entries I posted last year from mid-September through mid-December. If you have the time, I urge you to go back and check out those posts – lots of good stories from ‘the old days’ and some good pics of India.
You do need to be ready for (and open to) nearly everything when in India. I had almost forgotten this, but was soon reminded when my cab driver, a fiercely bearded lad, stopped our vehicle in the middle of a crowded road and went over to the cab to our left, screaming at the driver. They obviously knew each other and had some bone of contention…I sat in our cab, shocked and appalled…eventually the argument petered out and my driver returned. I said absolutely nothing and on we went.
We were still far from the city center. Drove by a sign that showed the way to Gateway of India, which is in the Colaba section of the city. Weird – the sign was so far from the monument that it was nearly useless, a non sequitir – almost like seeing a sign for the Taj Mahal in the middle of Delhi.
At one point my foot felt warm – I looked down at it and noticed a sizeable hole in the floor of the cab. Somehow I always knew that the Flintstones originated in India.
Got to my hotel, Maria’s Lodge. I arrived later than they expected, and my room wasn’t ready, which meant they gave my room to someone else and had to find another for me. Wonderful. My room now wouldn’t be ready till 11:30 p.m., and it was only 9 or so. I dropped my bags and went out for a walk and a bite. Colaba has a few mainstay spots, all mentioned in my posts last year. Bade Miya – the cart with the world’s best kebabs. Leopold’s and Mondegar’s – two great spots to sit, drink beer, talk with friends, and watch the mayhem of the street unfold. Indigo – fine dining. Busaba – excellent cocktails. And, of course, Gateway of India, lit up at night and an icon in every way.
Went back to Maria Lodge, and my room was ready. Unfortunately for me. It would have been better if they had turned me out on the street to find other accommodations. My room was perhaps the worst I’ve ever seen, worse than the cheapo hotels/hostels in Oz, worse than Laly & Abets in El Nido, and at least as bad as the room in Pathankot where I stayed in ’92 with Jan and the 2 Dharamsala-based guides. Lonely Planet had touted this place as ‘ridiculously clean,’ and they couldn’t have been more off. There was scarcely a square inch of this room that wasn’t flecked with something foul…I was afraid to touch the walls or put my bags down. Eventually I did put the bags down, but slept with my clothes on and resolved to get the fuck out of there come morning.
Fitful sleep – I prefer to sleep in my birthday suit. There was at least aircon and a fan, so I wasn’t hot…just in a foul mood from the inaccuracy of the guidebook and the callousness of a management that would retail such an awful space. Mumbai real estate prices are amongst the highest in the world, and I’ve always known that you don’t get great value here…and now I understood that there were simply no habitable budget hotels in the city. Lesson learned.
Got up and walked a few blocks to a place I’ve often walked by, the Apollo Hotel. It’s near Leopold’s and Bade Miye, and has a pleasant exterior. Looked at a room, which was fine – they wanted US$80 per night and I half-heartedly tried to haggle. They wouldn’t budge (I probably looked like death warmed over and desperate) and I caved. I got a cab to take me back to the foul Maria Lodge, where I picked up my bag and checked out. I told them I needed something ‘with more amenities.’ I am far too nice. Remind me to email Lonely Planet and rip them on their assessment of Maria Lodge – I’ll bet they never spent a night in the dump.
The cabbie took me back to Apollo. En route I told him that Maria Lodge sucked and was dirty – he responded that it ‘is not for businessmen.’ I guess I’m still a businessman at heart. When we arrived at Apollo, I asked him the roundtrip fare – he told me ‘what you want.’ Yeah right. He had used the meter…which is confusing in Mumbai, because you have to multiple the meter figure by 13 to get the fare. Most drivers have a laminated card showing the ‘multiplication tables,’ but won’t share it with you. I already knew the deal, and asked him the fare once more. Seventy rupees, he told me sheepishly. The meter showed 1.40, so the fare was about 18 rupees. I called him an old liar and gave him 19 rupees. And I told him not to cheat tourists…that was bad karma. He muttered at me and took off.
The Apollo was an OK choice. Not cheap, but I could afford it and refused to stay in a hovel. Still, it was annoying going from less than $20/night to $80/night. I know that I’m a cheap Jew…I just wish I were better at it.
The best thing about the Apollo? Extensive cable TV, which is ordinarily a non-factor for me (I go months without switching on a TV), but Games 3 and 4 of the World Series were nigh and I was ecstatic about having ESPN. Not sure what I would have done otherwise, as the games were at 5:30 a.m. local time. No web cafes are likely to be open then, and the bars certainly wouldn’t be either.
So I was now set for the next couple days. Spent some time wandering around Mumbai, taking care of errands and seeing some familiar spots. Noticed lots of billboards (hoardings, in the arcane terminology of Alan and Janine) boasting of the city’s new anti-drunk driving campaign. ‘Drive out of a bar and drive into bars,’ the billboard warned. I think the city has arrested 25 people during this ‘drive’…25 people who lacked sufficient rupees to buy their way out of an arrest. The song remains the same – always have plenty of cash on you to grease the wheels of Asian justice…
Mumbai is looking a bit better these days. There’s a new Marine Drive promenade, not yet completely covered with paan spittle. But the infrastructure still stinks – if you fly from Shanghai to Mumbai your first reaction would probably be ‘ugh.’ The city/state government just announced a US$60 billion campaign to revamp the city and turn it into a global financial center. It already is such a place, just a rough place to live and do business in, at least for us foreigners. My first reaction to hearing of the proposed sum was, ‘double it.’
Mumbai is also horrible value compared to cities like Bangkok. For US$20/night in Bangkok, I got a nice room at Starry Place, and you can find a very nice room for $50 anywhere in town. In Mumbai, $50 gets you an OK, worn-out room with loud aircon and bedsheets with cigarette holes. Charming. No wonder Bangkok is chock-full of Westerners and Mumbai is not. Of course, the ease of getting laid in Bangkok is also a huge factor – no one goes to India for titillation (beyond staring at elaborate temple carvings of tantric sex). My point is that Mumbai, and India, have a long ways to go before they’re places where talented foreigners are jazzed to go live.
Got back to the Apollo to take a nap. In the lobby I noticed a Western couple with guidebook earnestly doing their travel planning; seated nearby was an Arab man in full regalia, with his grody feet on the couch (I noted the location for future avoidance) and 4 woman, presumably his wives, seated around him. They weren’t travel planning. Only im Mumbai…
Took it easy that night. The next morning, at 5:30, was Game 3 of the World Series. A close game, but we again prevailed, led by pitcher Matsuzaka from Japan. I was thrilled that the Sox had become more international and I was constantly emailing my friends in Japan about Matsuzaka and our other J-pitcher Okajima. Now we were one game from taking the title. I felt calm, not a sensation often associated with the Red Sox.
Speaking of Japan – I read an article in the paper about the top English school in Japan, Nova, going under. Apparently it was a shock to most employees and about 4,000 foreign teachers are now screwed. If they don’t find new jobs pronto, they’ll be deported. And Japan is also moving to implement fingerprinting of all foreigners coming into the country, even if they’re long-term/permanent residents. They’ll get fingerprinted every time they re-enter Japan. Remember what I said about Mumbai losing the battle to get talented foreigners? A word to the wise…
I saw a shop called ‘Fish Fry’ selling huge shisha/hookah pipes. I imagine they’d also make rather effective water-bongs. But, of course, that’s illegal in India…and most charas (pot) smokers prefer homemade chillums anyway…
Had a snack and a Kingfisher beer at my beloved Leopold’s, which is now so swamped with tourists that much of the charm is gone. I largely blame the book Shantaram, which is partially set at the café. Now every tourist thinks they’re a world adventurer by having a curry there…as for yours truly, I’ve been going there since ’92 and was an early fan of their club sandwich. Which is still quite good, by the way.
Had dinner with b-school buddy Rajan that night. We went to my favorite seafood place, Trishna, and gorged on crab, fish and prawns. Unbelievable food – I was covered in crab splatter within minutes. I like Mahesh Lunch Home, not far away, but I love Trishna.
Rajan and I caught up on old classmates. I told him Jan and Joan Unger just had a daughter…he told me that Amar R. had just had a heart attack, at age 41 or thereabouts. Yikes. I wrote in an earlier post about university friend Matt, who just had his prostate removed, and now this. Seems we’ve reached a threshold at which anything can happen, and I resolved to get my ass in gear in Goa – running, yoga, less drinking, and mostly veg food. I did it last year, and will do it again. Hold my feet to the fire, friends.
Rajan’s very busy these days, so we had a quick coffee after dinner and then parted ways. I hit the sack, as Game 4 was at 5:30 the next morning. This could be the finale and I wanted to watch every second.
I have been preternaturally lucky with regard to catching the Sox games, on TV and on wireless. Even though I’ve been traveling, and sometimes staying in modest hotels, it seems that all my plans fit nicely around the games. In Koh Phi Phi, I caught the final games of the Cleveland series, while in Railay there were no games, thankfully, as I had zero access, and when I got to Bangkok and the Series began I had ESPN. Then, in India, I moved over to the Apollo just in time for the final two Series games. In hindsight, I should really have gone to a place like the Apollo from the get-go in Mumbai, knowing that I wanted cable access. But it all turned out fine…
The final bit of anxiety was around Game 4. If we lost this one, we still had a stranglehold on the Series, but I was flying to Goa that afternoon, and it would not be easy finding a way to watch Game 5 etc. in Goa. I had that in mind as the game kicked off.
Another close game. The young guys at the top of the Sox order came through again – Pedroia and Ellsbury were terrific. Pitcher Jon Lester was also on his game…Mike Lowell homered and gave us some breathing room, and seldom-used substitute Bobby Kielty homered on the first pitch he saw, and that provided the final margin. We won 4-3, and swept the Series 4-0, as we had done in 2004. Incredible. The Red Sox were a dominant, near-dynastic team for the first time since 1912-1918. And, in my opinion, this was a team without evident flaws – perhaps the best Red Sox team of all time. If you have a chance, go online and read Sox columns written by Boston Herald sportswriter Tony Massarotti – Tony was a classmate of mine at Tufts University and he has the dream job these days, in my opinion. Writing about the Sox during this stretch has to be pretty damn rewarding. I saw him speak late last year in Boston and thought his analyses and predictions were spot-on.
Checked out, got in a cab to the airport. Cabbie attempted to rip me off, surprise surprise, wanted 500 rupees. I got him down to 350 by threatening to get out of the cab. Empty threat, but he didn’t know that.
Easy flight to Goa. Was fidgeting with excitement all the way there. I’d have as much time as I wanted in Goa, all winter most likely, whereas last time was just 6-7 weeks and it felt clipped. Plus, I had already read the mammoth book Shantaram (mentioned above), so that exercise in torture was behind me. But I have heard that author Roberts is coming up with a sequel…hopefully that’s a year or two away.
I also knew that I’d have several friends in Goa, from last year. Lisa and Richard, who run Bean Me Up, where I’d again stay. Prem Joshua and Umang, friends and sidekicks. Bini, who runs the wait staff at BMU and is a constant source of smiles and good cheer. And various others…it promised to be a warm homecoming and winter.
In the minivan from Goa’s Dabolim Airport to Anjuna and BMU, saw a couple signs for BMU – one was last year’s ‘the real thing’ sign, the photo of which I had in a blog entry, and a new one had ‘Bean Me Up-Reloaded’, which reminded me of the Matrix movie series.
Got to BMU around 5 p.m. Lisa was there, busy getting the place ready for the Halloween Grand Opening. So was Bini. It had been a heavy monsoon, so the garden was lush and beautiful. I checked into my old room and chatted with them for a while. After a few minutes it felt like I had never left and, after such constant and tiring travels since February, this was the feeling I was seeking. Trying to strike the proper balance between the unknown and the familiar has always been a challenge and theme for me, and hopefully comes across in my entries. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to do a good job of this at the macro level, but during certain stretches I do feel I’m in the right groove, and this is one of those stretches. Over and out.
Tags: Travel
mbsloney
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