Flying high

The first time I took a plane ride I was 9. It was an Ansett flight and my grandparents dropped the 5 of us at Brisbane Domestic Airport. I remember strapping into the funny seatbelts and the roar of the engines. I remember my Dad explaining the clunk that was the landing gear lifting into the belly of the plane and I remember the airline food with the alfoil lids that you peeled back. My sister and brother got "kids packs" of food that had icecream and SPC two fruits but I got the congealed chicken and I remember being disappointed but trying not to show it. I remember the funny head phones that were really tubes, like a stethoscope. The amazing sense of adventure. Of doing something so outside our experience.

It was a big deal that we were even on that flight. Or the two that came after it in quick succession. No one else in my school had been on a plane before. It was a luxury - a massive and expensive one that my Mum had saved up for because she wanted to travel and she wanted us to love it as much as she did. But we were fortunate, something that I think I realised even then. Our car had airconditioning, a rarity at the time that was the envy of friends, even if we were only allowed to have it on on the hottest days. Opened windows good enough the rest of the time.

But that first holiday on a plane was exciting and wonderful if only for the plane itself. In the years that came after it as we travelled far and wide, the taxiing onto the runway and the initial burst as the jet engines fired up has always sucked me in to that same excited 9 year old, wondering at the magic of being in a plane. Of going somewhere. That potential and possibility.

I leaned back this afternoon into the leather seat and picked up my magazine. I didn't realise we were taxiing until I heard the rumble of the jet turbines as we were pressed back into the seats. The familiar sight of the slightly extended flaps as we tore down the runway. The belly lurching moment of liftoff, of pure elevation and weightlessness if only for a second and the awe in being able to do that. The pure magic of it all. And then, the crunch, as the landing gear lifts, and curls up under the belly, an aluminium bird in flight.

It's been more than 20 years since that first flight, and this one wasn't to go on a holiday. Or somewhere new or different. And it hurt to leave, and to get on the plane. Not as much as last time, but it still did. To get off the plane in the humid dark and walk across the tarmac to my car and drive home through the wide streets. No holiday to look forward to. No new place to explore. Just work and a pile of sheets that need to be washed.

But there is a part of me, that watched the red sun shining above the cloud cities, and just for a moment became that 9 year old again. Wishing and wondering. Peeling the foil off my crackers and cheese with my headphones in my ears. Travelling off into the sunset, the world slipping by underneath and the possibility of it all struck me. The adventure.

Last travel post for a while - I promise!

It's a good thing I write these posts for me and not for the internet at large, as clearly I'm the only one appreciating them! Our last day in Bangkok was sultry and steamy as we asked the Concierge to direct a taxi driver back to the tailor where Bingley supposedly had half a suit waiting for him.It was clearly not one of the more well known tailors, as it took a lot of directions and calls back to base before we found it. But once there, Bingley was pounced on and draped with bits of Italian wool cashmere and a man with chalk drew and pinched and tucked and pinned while I watched on amusedly. Assured that the suit would be delivered that afternoon we left the tailor and set off for Chatuchak weekend market.

This market is the largest in Thailand and sprawls over 35 acres with rambling alleyways packed with everything you can think of. It was stinking hot and being out of the sun was a relief as we made our way through the rabbit warren, ducking under suspended lights, and pointing out the weird and the wonderful.

Unlike most markets in SE Asia, most things had a price tag, and aside from some vague bartering when buying larger quantities, things stuck to their price. This was a relief in the heat where neither of us felt much like arguing about prices and could decide straight up if we wanted something or not. Some things, like the plethora of plastic fruit and flowers were easy to pass up, but the silks, mobiles, puppets and dust catchers were hard to walk by.

We managed to walk a good half hour before we bought anything at all, choosing to buy some coconut icecream to wander the stalls, before Bingley came across this stall selling childrens things. We bought shirts for the Possum and dresses for the girls, then now that we had realised how many Baht we had left in our wallets and how pointless it would be to change them back to dollars at the airport we began a bonanza of purchasing.

Lunch time loomed and I was starving, so we made our way to one of the tents on the periphery of the market and pointed out various curries which were prepared in front of us and came with icy cold Pepsi in the old style glass bottles. The food was amazing. I loved it and ate well while Bingley felt a bit queasy from a combination of the heat and humidity and prolonged jetlag. We munched on a giant curly potato that had been deep fried and then wandered around some more looking to blow the last of our cash.

Final tally for the day was not photographed, however we all had a bag full of loot and various sparkly accessories by the time the heat had reached saturation point for Bingley and we caught a cab back to our hotel where we washed up and packed our bags ready to head back home. Our flight wasn't until midnight, so we decided to spend some time in the Club Lounge before heading to the roof for the last lot of cocktails and Bangkok sunsets.

The clouds were beautiful, sailing past and veiling the sky beyond while the sun dropped lower and lower in the sky. We settled back as it got dark and chatted about the end of the holiday and the need to not leave it so long ever again between stamps in the passport. Neither of us were sad about going home, I was starting to miss the kids abominably and the hotel life after a while starts to feel a little bit like you're wearing someone else's clothes. It's fun for a visit, but it's not the life I want to live.

We left the hotel around 8pm, and drove through the streets. Overpasses on the highway still crowded with those escaping the floodwaters and a sobering reminder of the reality that we had cocooned ourselves from on the 34th floor. We rode in silence as we watched the planes take off and land in the distance, coming closer and closer until we were on the concourse and our bags were being unpacked by our driver. Standing in the brilliant neon blue lights and no longer being excited, anticipatory travelers, but instead being weary ones making our way home.

We checked in, ate bad food in the terminal and then wandered through the ridiculous, overpriced stores that repeated themselves over and over searching for a bookstore where I could buy a book or magazine. Finally finding one in amongst the Chanels and the Bvlgaris so that we could curl up outside our gate and read away the hours.

It was a long and painful flight with an incredibly short night as we watched the inflight movie and tried to doze sitting upright. Dreaming of days when we could afford business class and stretch out and sleep, curled up in blankets. We arrived soon enough though, looping low over the Brisbane coastline and coming in to land. Disembarking quickly, collecting bags and finding ourselves again on home soil. Bingley's Dad and the two girls were there to meet us. Excited and ebullient, chattering away so quickly that I missed half the words.

Then we were back in our car, our new red car that we'd owned for one whole day before we'd left, driving down the freeway towards home. And I sat back in my chair, leaned back my head and closed my eyes, wondering if I'd dreamed the whole thing.

Temples, Tuktuks and the Hard Sell

After the massive day of cycling and swimming and eating we unsurprisingly slept in quite late the next morning, surfacing after the buffet breakfast had closed (oh no!) and being hungry and excited for adventure. We ate a very poor and very expensive lunch at Romsai which took forever to be served and formulated a plan for the day. All of the various websites we perused on our phones said that we should go see the Grand Palace while we were in Bangkok so we decided to take a taxi there so we couldn't get lost (being as we had no idea how to get there). We even asked the concierge to order us the taxi and give directions so that we didn't have to. 

Our taxi was very cool in that our driver had collected currency from over 40 countries which were stapled to his roof, and we had cricked necks from looking up and pointing out various notes including quite a few obsolete ones (Lira, Francs etc). Less cool was that instead of taking us to the palace, he took us to the river so that we could catch a river boat to the palace. I had read of te water taxis and that this was a cheaper option, but the place we had been taken to was a private long boat and the driver asked straight up for 100 US dollars for the trip. Um no. So we walked until we found the public ferries which cost less than $3 for both of us. 

Waiting for the ferry was quite surreal as we watched the water lap over the banks of the Chao Phraya and into the streets. From the pontoon to the ferry the volume and the speed of the flood waters was quite evident and sobering. When Brisbane was flooded early last year, all water traffic was pulled out of the river quick smart due to the risk of hidden debris, but in Bangkok it was business as usual. 

Flood waters against the pontoon

Going under

After about 20 minutes of cruising mesmerised as we realised just how screwed this city was if the water rose any further, we noticed most of the other tourists packing up their bags and getting ready to jump off, which lead us to assume we must have been close to the Grand Palace. Getting off the boat was precarious and involved being in mid-shin depth flood water as we strode towards dry land, my brand new Repettos held aloft while Bingley gave me wtf faces for having worn them in the first place (he had a point).

The street we eventually found ourselves on was a hive of activity. Merchants and monks and tourists swarming everywhere while store keepers lugged sandbags to put in front of their stores while others erected bricks and mortar to keep out the water. We looked in desperation for somewhere to buy suncream while hiding in the shade of buildings before buying the tiniest tube you've ever seen for $8AUD from a 7-11. We then set off for the Palace again. Which was a great idea except having not done any research whatsoever and it being impossible to get our bearings meant we had no idea.

Diverting the water with sandbags

 Eventually, after stopping in this beautiful green park, we worked out what we figured had to be the palace. And were denied entry because my skirt wasn't long enough and Bingley was wearing long shorts. This didn't perturb us too much as we figured there'd be somewhere close by where we could buy a sarong to meet the dress code. However the information man also informed us that the palace was nearly due to close to visitors for the day. So we stood around awkwardly and wondered what to do next.

Grand Palace - I hear it's amazing to visit

I was slightly annoyed at Bingley as Thailand had been his job to organise, and thus far that had meant no organisation at all. But then I remembered that the point of this part of the trip was just to go with the flow and enjoy it so when another "information guide" came up to us and volunteered to find us a tuk tuk to go see other temples for a "good price" we figured we'd just go with it. Clearly there was going to be some sort of catch, and as long as it didn't involve being forced to see a Ping Pong show we may as well go along with it.

And so we jumped into our too good to be true tuktuk which was driven by a nice driver at a less deathly pace and finally took us to see the temple of the standing Buddha at Wat Intharawihan. It was stinking hot and people were lying around in the shade everywhere as we approached the giant Buddha statue.

Jade Buddha

Pretty toes

 It was too hot to explore the temple much, so we jumped back in with our tuktuk driver who was to take us to a new temple, and of course, give us the "catch" to get there. As explained by a reclining Thai man who was half asleep in his tuktuk next to us, the day that we were there was a day that the government had been stimulating industry by giving retailers coupons to buy petrol. Any time a tuktuk driver bought tourists to one of the stores and they looked around for long enough then the driver would get a coupon (which we figured was worth around $10 each, which is significant). This didn't sound like a terrible trade off, and being as we had wanted to look at jewellery anyway we weren't that fussed when our first detour was a jewellery store.

Our chauffeur with the pandas

The hard sell started the minute we walked into the door of the jewellery store with one of the attendants practically forcing rings on my fingers as I wandered around then leading me back over to Bingley to tell him what a lucky man he was and shouldn't he buy his lovely wife a ring? They exclaimed over my beautiful white skin (which was at the time quite horrendously sunburned) and over my delicate hands (as you can see with the heat they were swollen like sausages). I laughed out loud once but they were still absolutely determined for the sale, not helped by Bingley who kept asking me which one I wanted. Sensing blood they didn't let go of my hand until the ring pictured was mine. We figured our tuk tuk driver had well and truly earned his coupon.

Next temple was Wat Benchamabophit or the Marble Temple which was quite beautiful. The interior of the main temple was lush and beautiful, while the main court yard had many statues of Buddha in different stances - seated, standing, lying or walking. We learned a little of the various mudras or attitudes of Buddha's hands and wanted a replica of the one warning brothers not to fight. The gardens were also lovely as we wandered around. 

Hands in bhumisparsha and avakasha - witness and leisure

Buddha fasting

Afternoon sun on the gilded roof

Some tourist in the way

 We jumped back in the tuktuk and were convinced into another "coupon" this time getting Bingley measured up for a suit. The price was right and we figured that even if it was dodgy he could still wear the pants somewhere. I also got fitted for some work shirts. The material was decent quality as ascertained by me and the sellers were not particularly harrassing. As it was late in the day I figured they'd already had a steady stream of tourists in all day so they were less interested in us. One tried to convince me to buy some lovely silk dresses, but having nowhere in particular to wear any it seemed a little pointless. After this though we just wanted to go home. By now though, our driver was putting on the hard sell and practically begging us to just go look in some more stores, but after a half hearted wander around yet another jewellery store, this time ridiculously overpriced and full of tack we refused and asked him to take us home, which much to his disappointment he finally did.

That evening, we decided to go in search of more night markets and headed for the famous Central World Mall. It was everything it's supposed to be - huge, empty and soulless. We were bored in minutes. It's essentially a large Westfield Shopping Centre with more luxury brands. Exactly like walking around a mall at home, which we could do, at home. So after grabbing something to eat in the foodcourt (sadly missing Zense which is apparently very nice) we were pretty much ready to leave the frigid airconditioning and bizarrely expensive and empty shops aside from several young Thai women leading around much older Australian and European men. It felt ick.

Outside however was much more our scene. Night markets were being set up along the main stretch of street and the music, noise, bustle and lights made for such a better experience. Bingley was tired and grumpy though so we ended up catching a taxi home and ordering room service for dessert. It was a bit of an odd day, and while the spontaneous path was fun, I do recommend that if you actually want to go see some of the sights of Bangkok that you actually have an idea where they are!

Mae Khlong, Markets and Mojitos

We woke up after our first night in Bangkok bright and early in anticipation of the cycling tour we had booked for that day. Initially we were to be riding around the ancient kingdom of Ayutthaya to see the ruins and temples of the region, but with the floods the area was underwater and offlimits. The tour company however offered us the alternative of a 40km bike ride through the southern farming communities and a visit to the floating market so we snapped that up instead.

Ever since the very first time my parents took me to a hotel I have adored the concept of a buffet breakfast. It delights all those little girl experiences for me, even if I am a lot more measured in how I use them these days. My breakfast of fresh fruits and yoghurt was quite spectacular though! We then waited in the lobby for the Spice Roads tour group to pick us up. They were right on time and we were soon in our van headed South through the Bangkok morning traffic. 

After about an hour we had a stop at one of the tourist traps that usually make my heart sink as you are plied with various souvenir crap that costs ten times as much as at the markets while the hard sell is put on you. But this place also doubled as an orchid farm so Bingley and I wondered in amongst the flowers and used the bathroom as suggested ignoring the vast numbers of souvenirs that would have given Australian Customs an apoplexy as various busloads of tourists pulled up. We were very grateful after 10 minutes to be collected from the clutches of a woman who was trying to give us souvenir plates with our faces printed on them while screeching out the price. 

Another half hour or so south, after driving through various salt farms, we arrived at the Damnoen Saduak floating market, which is the largest in Thailand, and as such a prime tourist destination. Again though, with the floods the numbers were well down and the market had a depressed aura over it - so different from the usual bustling. We were not harrassed at all as we walked through the same three dresses hung on various stalls and the same elephant carvings, but in amongst it all there were some interesting things - we bought mangosteens and rambutans to eat while looking at various fruits and spices, and amazing balance as little old women cooked from their long tail boats.

Many of the sellers looked bored in the heat of the morning, as if aware that we were not there to shop. Even this snake handler only chased us half heartedly to get our photo taken with his giant friend (we declined).

After traipsing through the markets for a while, and having bought all that we wanted (which was not much), we headed to a brightly coloured long tail boat for a ride through the canals on which a whole town had been built. It was strange and beautiful, amazing to look at and see. Such a simple but terrifying life as I saw toddlers playing on the steps of their houses at the water's edge. The cool air whipped off the water at us as we powered through and we just soaked it all in, tempted to drag my hand through the water until I saw snakes swimming along its surface. Then I kept them firmly in my lap.

Out for a paddle. 

 Eventually we hit the open water and our boat sped up as it crested the massive river. We were in the middle of the swollen Mae Khlong as it wended its way past temples and towns, under bridges and beside farm land. The river was fast flowing and filled with debris from the monsoons and it felt more than a little precarious to be in the middle of it at such speeds. But this, from what is seared on my memory best, is Thailand.

We eventually stopped some 30 odd kilometres North of the market at a temple called Wat Amphawan Chetiyaram. It was jarring to see gilded lamp posts and lined avenues, not unlike those of Paris in amongst the peasant life we had just sailed through. The carved temple here was simply amazing, though none of my photographs do it justice. It was so ornate, so intricate, and completely empty. Just us and our guide explaining the carvings and the scenes on the roof and shutters and walls.

Love affair with lamp posts continues

After we had our fill of the temple we were shown our companions for the rest of the day - our mountain bikes and helmets which had been furnished by the tour company. They were good strong sturdy bikes in excellent working order, but they had male seats. Male seats hurt your bum, and mine well and truly paid for it by the end of the day.

Bingley and Bike

Our first stop on our trip was the awesome Wat Bang Kung which was built during the Ayutthaya period, but would be in ruins if it were not for the giant banyan tree that took residence on its roof. This tree, through its strangulating roots has provided the support for the walls such that the temple is still standing. Even now new roots are reaching down all the time which are carefully trained by the monks so that they don't blot out the windows and doorways.

Gold leaf buddha inside the temple

After a short break at a local Catholic Convent to eat icy cold fruit and drink some more water, we headed away from the river and inland among the plantations. This was a fairly solid 15km or so of riding over mostly sealed roads so no photos as I was unable to manage steering and my giant camera at the same time. It was steamy and hot but the ride was mostly under the shade of coconut palms and pomelo trees so it was a really pleasant ride (aside from my poor bruised backside which was beginning to complain). We put up such a healthy pace that our guide took us for a few little detours, although we still arrived at our lunch spot early.

It was a little restaurant, built out over the banks of the Mae Khlong and no sooner had we pulled in and clambered off our bikes when it started to pour down with rain. We sat in our chairs by the side of the river and watched the water pour down as teh fragrance from the kitchens washed over us. Our guide asked us if there were any restrictions on food, and we said we wanted authentic thai food as long as it had no prawns/crabs for Bingley. And what followed was some of the best stuff we had in Thailand. Frangrant, sweet, sour, salty and so very very good. We ate until we could barely move, then relaxed as the rain cleared and we could watch the world go by.

Mae Khlong

Restaurant over the water

After lunch I surrendered my camera and we began riding the 20 odd kilometres back to the floating market. It was a lot harder than the morning ride, probably because the rain was lifting straight up off the ground so that the air misted in front of our eyes. The bike seat was also starting to cause me serious grief such that I tried riding for quite a while without sitting, which meant my quads were getting a tremendous workout in the heat. But it was still enjoyable and hte scenery was beautiful.

Being as it was only Bingley and I and we're relatively fit, we arrived back at the markets about an hour earlier than usual for the tour and were given the option of wandering around some more if we liked but after a good 2+ hours riding in the sun and humidity we were both buggered and looking forward to getting home and jumping in the pool as we downed as much water as we could to avoid dehydration. Pink cheeked, hair a mess, I wish I had asked them to take a photo of the two of us and our bikes, as it had been an excellent tour and one I'd recommend anyone that feels like doing something a bit more active and seeing a new perspective.

The trip home took a long time, over 2 hours so we were grateful we'd left a bit earlier. Many of the roads and overpasses were filled with people who had parked on higher ground to avoid the floods, thus blocking all major highways. We just settled back and dozed in the hot afternoon and gave thanks for airconditioning, cold water and iron clad bladders.

Jumping in the pool when we got back to the hotel was icy pleasure. I did laps for a little while as Bingley laid out on his cabana and we thought about how good life was. Determined today to get the best seats for sunset, we dolled up and headed upstairs right on 5 o'clock and ordered whatever fancy cocktails took our fancy.

Mojito in a drunk glass

Vertigo Sunset - sublime

We settled in on the purple couches that overlook the city and the sunset and began chowing through the free canapes as we decided on drinks. They were tasty, sweet and fresh and as we leaned back and watched the sun disappear in pink magnificence and the lights come on we felt exceedingly pleased with ourselves. 

We had not been planning to eat at any of the restaurants in the hotel, as with their Western prices and unimaginative menus it seemed a bit of a waste, but we were tired, and quite probably drunk and so resolved to at least eat at the Thai restaurant in the hotel named Saffron. A decision made easier when the clouds suddenly burst above us and we were ushered downstairs clutching our drinks (wet stairs in Louboutins while clutching a martini glass while inebriated - I deserve an award).

The restaurant was luxuriously decorated and we chose our own version of a banquet (as the suggested banquet cost more than the individual dishes combined - something I was quite confused about). We also continued to make our way through the cocktail menu so we were very merry as we gazed out the window through the sploshing rain to the streets of Bangkok some 50 floors below. It was quite surreal contrasting the night before as we had walked through the streets, glowing with heat and humidity in our smallest clothing to sitting in air conditioned luxury with sparkling china and crystal.

The food was tasty and well presented though not remarkable. We both got a kick out of the rice menu which comes around on a cart and allows everything from signature saffron to fragment jasmine and various other that I don't remember types of rice. We ate valiantly but had no chance of finishing off everything, especially if we wanted dessert (which we did). I had a ginger creme brulée and Bingley two bowls of ice cream that were both refreshing and tasty though I laughed when mine came out. It was gigantic, to the point where I had no chance of finishing it, tasty as it was. The thing could have seriously served 4 people.

Contemplating my massive brulée, not pictured

After dinner Bingley and I headed back to our room and collapsed in bed. It had been a fun, active, food and drink filled fiesta of a day and we were exhausted.