Six Days in Siam

Day 5 – Bound for Bangkok

This is the first and only morning we are awoken by the automatic alarm call. The time is 6.30 am and we are due to leave in one hour. Unfortunately this means I will be unable to have a real breakfast with Gerard and Kwan as had been my hope, as they begin at a very civilised eight o’clock. Never mind, I will be there and probably stay with them next visit. Meanwhile our hotel breakfast is just as missable as the others we’ve endured; although this time I have to ask for a knife. Otherwise nothing of any note happened at all.

Reaching reception in good time I go to hand over our room key, which is processed but then taken from my grasp by Mrs. Guangzhou. Just before eight Charlie Chan arrives with his customary resolute demeanour, I being with the boys and girls outside smoking. Today there are 14 of our number taking a few drags + waiting for today to unravel and wondering what will beset us this tranquil morn?

Aboard the charabanc a little later I ease into thought as Charlie Chan has the pa system even louder than before. It is actually so loud it is quite hard to hear him, which is too my advantage. I am trying to work out our itinerary, in which nobody else appears interested at all. I have resolved that the ‘Royal Massage’ must have occurred on our first night in Pattaya, so that’s crossed off our list already. Yesterday we did ‘The Day at the Beach’ and ‘The Boats ‘thingymagig. We also had the ‘Free Drinks Show’ late last night which was an extra – so perhaps something else has been dropped?

This leaves us with ‘The Fruit Farm’, which we as a couple are not doing; and something else Siu Ying doesn’t like and assures me I won’t enjoy … whatever it is? I am also pretty sure that tonight we will be staying in a proper western 4 star hotel in Bangkok called the Atrium. It is my guess we will not arrive there until well after 6pm, meaning our meeting-up with Yupa for dinner or drinks may be under threat. So that in turn means that it will take us at least 10 hours to travel 200 kliks = we will have to endure about 6 tourist attractions, as hopefully all the sales opportunities are now done with. I confer with my wife who confirms we will not be doing the fruit farm, but the others will; and we will not be doing the other thing that I don’t like either, whatever it is? That settled I lean back and doze as the coach reaches the main highway and heads in the opposite direction from Bangkok. This could turn out to be another one of those days!

The trip takes about ten minutes all told, and passing the excellent imitation floating market we soon veer left off the highway and down some narrow country lanes just wide enough for an ox and cart. We come to rest in a rural car park and are hustled past a murky country pond to a landing stage up some steps. As we reach the top a heard of Elephants come into view, and all have elephant saddles and pilots aboard – now this looks like being fun! I mark our turn in the queue to coincide with one of the largest beasts, as I am quite large myself. We have to jump a small gap to clamber aboard, and once seated the elephant is off! Neither seatbelts nor crash hats to trouble us, just the wind in our hair and the massive strides of these wobbly beats to eat up the distance.

We amble along an elephant path through a wild landscape set with jungle in a few places, stands of wild bush in most directions, and butterflies, small animals and colourful plants abounding. The backdrop of ponds and lakes is only interrupted by the numerous wreckages of old aeroplanes – the first of which appears to be a MacDonald Douglas DC 8. How peculiar? I spot about a dozen assorted and derelict ex-flying machines which are spaced roughly 400 yards from one another. There is a helicopter out of M.A.S.H. beached on a mound of sand; and an old bi-wing fighter from the Great War languishes beside the billabong. There are enough old planes here to start a reasonable museum or playground, but instead they appear to be left out to rot. I reason that perhaps they are awaiting the next project development, once this initial one is completed.

Within 10 minutes we arrive at an assembly point complete with another landing, presumably this is where we get off. It is indeed, and we group together as the elephants head back to the main entrance. The schoolboy series of ‘Tarzan and the Elephants’ jokes spring unbidden to my mind:

Q. What is the difference between an Elephant and Strawberry?

A. Elephants are gray, Strawberries are red!

Q. What did Tarzan say when he saw the Elephants?

A. Here come the Strawberries – he was colour-blind!

There are a lot more of those, which I won’t bore you with. I am passing time waiting for the next big thing to happen to us. I am seated out front of something that is probably a cage of Macaws – they are very blue with yellow breasts, and there seem to be two males squawking very loudly over one female, who is definitely not interested in either of her suitors. I guess now is not the time to mentally replay Monty Python’s excellent ‘Norwegian Blue’? I’m sorry, OK! Its just those crashed aeroplanes along the elephant trail seem to have unhinged me temporarily – and there is no-one but yourselves to share this inanity with. Anyways, these parrot thingymagigs are definitely very alive and very loud.

My equilibrium is disturbed when Charlie Chan rushes in looking at his watch. Now it is time for ‘The Boat Trip’. I thought we did that one yesterday – but maybe it’s a different one? We are led to a serious looking steel fence that has a cage that wooden boats can dock in. Siu Ying spy’s a lot of logs floating in the adjacent swamp. I inform her they are most definitely not logs! I’m not sure she believes me until she is handed a long pole with some meat attached to the end of it via a long piece of string. One of the nearby ‘logs’ then leaps 3 feet out of the water and clamps its massive jaws around both the meat and the pole. Other crocodiles then join the fray and scrap over the kill - until one of them ends up with the meat and another with half of the pole. The boatman is not impressed and then shows us how to tease the crocs, without losing the ‘state-of-the-art fishing rods’. I note he has taken the only free pole from inside the boat to do this – so that would probably be the ‘punt’ then for use in case the engine breaks down? I reflect this is the only boat I have been on for a very long time that does not come equipped with life jackets.

Once the other crew member has finished baiting the poles, he then closes the meat locker and opens the next one. He extracts an armful of lifejackets and starts handing one out to everybody on board. He offers me one – I look at him, I look at the proffered lifejacket, and then gaze out over the swamp of hungry crocodiles. You cannot be serious!

That was actually quite a laugh, if mostly for all the wrong reasons – Jim, you are perfectly correct in your assertation that Thailand is just as crazy as China, just in a different way!

Back on the safety of dry land we hand around and wait for the next entertainment to begin. I wander askance and lighting up, discover an old Willey’s Jeep hidden amongst the undergrowth. I am getting the feeling they must have bought a load of scrap metal left over from the Vietnam War and chucked it around haphazardly. This is so bizarre I am half-expecting Alan Alda to wander out of a medical tent at any moment – either being chased by ‘Lips’ or a real crocodile.

I am open to anything, so think nothing when a team of Trotting Ponies complete with Caleche appear to take us somewhere else. The link is to Wikipedia, but may not be quite technically correct. This is an open two-wheeled carriage with bench seat for two passengers, who sit above a perch for the driver. It is drawn by an underfed pony with prominent ribs whom I could probably pick up in my arms – poor thing. The money for a decent nosebag appears to have been spent upon aesthetic trimmings like four fancy socks for trotting colourfully, bunched-clipped mane, and a wicked looking log and flexible whip that the driver uses very frequently and needlessly. After the hilarity of a few moments ago I am suddenly shocked back into the world where humans think they can mistreat animals for other enjoyment and personal profit. I am seriously not impressed! That said, the pony ride itself was excellent, and it was a proper trotting pony, not a masquerade.

We end up back at the entrance coral and I go to pat the pony, only for the whip to crash quite near my extending hand, and they are soon gone. We then wait for the others, so go talk to the elephants in their compound. I see the one that took us, so go to say hello. He soon susses that I do not have any bananas, so quickly moves on to others nearby who do. I note his tusks have been cut off – either to prevent injury, or more likely to make a quick profit using ‘health and safety’ as an excuse? A younger female replaces the old bull and is a lot more amenable. She lets me stroke and bash her trunk, and then uses it to grasp my hand and cover it in elephant goo. I didn’t know they did that! It is very sticky and may set, so in due course we leave and I head for the toilets and a tap to wash the slime off with. No regrets of course, but a nice tap would be great. There are four taps hereabouts, none of which appear to be connected to a water supply. Being the only person around I also try the ladies, with equally disappointing results. I guess I could try washing them in the crocodile swamp - but then again…

I return from my diversion to find Siu Ying looking at a picture of us aboard the elephant. I am up for buying one, if only to put some feed into the belly of the trotting ponies, but she doesn’t like the picture so refuses. We hang around for a bit before the coach rocks up and we all clamber aboard. Out on the main road we turn in the direction of Bangkok, but I am not presuming anything just yet!

We head off into the countryside for about 30 minutes before coming to rest in the car park of some temple or other. It has good architecture and is quite interesting in a temple sort of way. There is a low and formal ornate gateway which plays host to several stalls flogging flowers. These can be purchased by paying 20 Baht upwards and there are also other paraphernalia available plus the usual joss sticks. Worshippers are then allowed to take these inside the grounds to special tubs set aside for burning the said flowers and joss sticks, and no doubt this means something.

The temple gateway is also flanked by two Buddhist images, one of our good lady Tian Tian, and the other of my fat mate Fat Fat. These are exactly the same as in my Cantonese home, and are the Buddha’s of choice for most Cantonese, be they Buddhist or Taoist. Inside the building there is a single massive room which is completely covered from floor to ceiling with very skilfully made carvings, inscriptions, and ornate highlights. The centre houses many Buddha sculptures most of which are completely covered in gold. I must admit the whole building is very impressive, as we have come to expect from Thai temples.

I am one of the first to leave, as people are still selecting flowers and making offerings. I wander away from the hurly-burly for a cigarette and notice the nearby main road. Opposite is a very run-down playing area with old buildings to one side. A couple of goalposts are set to each end, and I presume this is a playing field for the local community. It has seen better days and is perhaps what you would expect to find in peasant Africa. However, judging by the lack of grass, it sees regular use and must be a valuable asset to the local people

A rusty old metal fence separates this from a corridor no doubt for use by spectators. Next door is a shack flogging drinks and snacks, and this rounds a side road. Opposite is a typical low class restaurant, and further along are shanty dwellings to house local people. I turn around and reflect on the stunning beauty and wealth displayed by the temple, then turn back again to look directly into the poverty of the local populace. It really is a very stark contrast.

Charlie Chan then spots me and calls me to heel with the pack. Our number complete we rush off to another building set well into the temple complex. Here we again have to remove our shoes and socks before entering – this is getting monotonous! Inside are counters set along the walls, with a central shrine at the far end. The glass reveals gold and jade figures of Buddha’s, and other related items. Ahha! This is another sales thingymagig then! The prices are astronomical, but the pieces themselves are very well made and genuine. Apparently once a purchase is made it is then taken for you to the head monk on duty, who sits in a wallow to the right of the shrine. He then blesses the object and splatters it with water. He mumbles something else and then the buyer is also splattered with water – so a complimentary shower from the head monk is included also – Spiffing stuff! That done you are then supposed to offer it to the shrine, and if it does not disappear it means the Buddha present has allowed you to keep it in his or her memory – something like that.

I completely loose interest and head outside, having ensured Siu Ying is not about to make a costly purchase en route. I put my shoes and socks back on and light up another cigarette. There is a monk nearby who is sweeping any shoes deposited on the steps off them and into a pile on the pavement. He looks up at me and in mime and broken English asks if I can spare him a cigarette. I was not expecting that at all, but am happy to oblige. The thanks me profusely and we have a go at chatting, but it is pretty useless really. I wander around and wait for the group to emerge. They are back quite soon and I note a few look suitably wet and are carrying bags indicating purchases have been made. Seeing as we are all back together again, Mrs Guangzhou leads us back to the coach, and a few minutes later we depart. It is then I realise that a large pendant Charlie Chan wears was bought here.

As we pass through the Siamese countryside Charlie Chan extols the highlights of the next item on our itinerary – The Fruit Farm. Judging by Siu Ying’s reaction it is clear this has confirmed her lack of interest. About 30 minutes later we pull off the rural road and park up on a piece of waste ground and underneath a large old tree. Everybody gets off except us, as we did not pay the 800 Baht for this excursion. We watch them disappear to one corner of the triangular shaped piece of land and clamber aboard a waiting farm cart pulled by a small tractor. They then disappear from view headed down this bumpy bridal path, as we hear our driver singing. This carries on for a few minutes whilst we try to take a nap. I am pretty sure he does not know we are still aboard, and in his defence it would not be obvious as the drivers seat is a lot lower and obscured from vision down a few steps.

He then comes up to go to a locker and notices us. He panics and starts to rush after the cart, but we manage to explain we are not going with the others – apparently nobody had bothered to tell him. I think he was slightly embarrassed as his singing was a little off key, but so is mine for that matter, and it was quite entertaining whilst it lasted. He then decides to wait outside the coach, and I soon follow outside to have a look around. We are next to an unfenced field and a couple of workers are tending the rear of derelict and 40’s looking tanker. I doubt it has moved a wheel in decades, but is proving useful to the locals. It would seem they have removed the engine and placed it at the back on some sort of home-made platform. This is then used as a pump to water the crops, and presumably the water is held in the tank of the vehicle. One certain days you could consider this to be ‘enterprising’ I suppose.

The field they are watering appears to consist of seemingly endless rows of plants that from a distance appear to be dark leaved Yuka’s. My curiosity roused I move nearer for a closer look and then discover they are in fact Pineapple plants. I must admit that I had never before wondered what type of plant pineapples grow on, but this appears to be it. In case you are interested, the actual fruit grow one to a plant on top of a short stout stem. The base is about 1 foot off the ground with long spear-like leaves sprouting as if in protection. It is a pretty odd looking plant actually, so I get out my camera to take a picture of it.

I then find the mobile has switched itself on again, and though still locked, is currently playing videos. I unlock it to turn them off, and a message pops up ‘Battery Low’. It then turns itself off as the battery is in fact dead. I really hate this stupid phone, and am definitely going back to using my old one once we return to China. This is ridiculous!

I hang around outside for a bit and look at the weeds, before getting on the coach for a nap. The others return after 50 minutes or so, and many are laden down with fruit related purchases. I guess this was actually another sales opportunity as they didn’t have much to say about their adventures, other than that we didn’t miss anything.

Heading off again it takes only 10 minutes to arrive at the next destination. This is a giant Buddha outlined in real gold (Apparently) that is painted on the side of a high karst hill. It was apparently the work of some foreigners who decided to make it about 30 years ago. It is now a famous landmark and comes complete with small temple complex and formal entry at the head of a long and wide concourse. I go only so far before sitting down on the first set of steps leading up the ornate gateway. My attention is suddenly drawn to my immediate left, where I see a lot of red ants busily bustling backwards and forwards along a corridor they are using beneath the top of a low and ornate wall. What perturbs me is their size, as they are almost 1 inch long! I don’t think I like this much, and soon move well clear.

The coach is parked in a sort of Thai truck stop across a very busy road that runs straight for two miles. Whilst it consists of only one carriageway in each direction, it also seems to double as a racetrack for Siamese army vehicles. These compete for roadspace with tourist coaches, and the occasional slow moving agricultural vehicles. It reminds me of driving in Brittany (France) during harvest season, where the inter-city highways often contained slow moving tractors. Here as in France, the main object of the game appears to be to go as fast as you can without actually colliding with anything else on the road. This is sometimes accomplished by using the grass verges, or by squeezing three high velocity vehicles into a space designed for only two. The motto of the moment would therefore appear to be ‘Pedestrians Beware’!

We group and wait for a break in the traffic before taking our life in our hands and running across the road as quickly as possible. The shacks next to the coach consist of the usual coconut drinks stalls where the vender chops off the top of a coconut and gives you a straw through with which to drink the milk inside. Other nearby stalls are flogging the usual tat and snacks, plus one displaying expensive keepsakes of the said Buddha we are here to view.

All too soon we are back on the charabanc and heading towards the sun. Turning into a country lane the coach is delayed by other vehicles coming on the opposite direct on this single-track road. Eventually we make a main highway, and discover we are still in Pattaya and quite near our hotel. However, we are definitely now headed directly for Bangkok, as is supported by the roadsigns.

Half an hour later the coach pulls up at the side of the busy inter-city highway, and we all get out to admire a most unnotable and inauspicious building that is in fact disguising the fact it is a Thai roadside café. This is where we are to be served luncheon. The place is crammed full of large round tables with little space between them, and soon the 19 of us are jammed around two tables best suited for the occupancy of 12 people in total. I head for the toilet, which is housed in one corner of the kitchen. There are actually two cubicles set side by side, but with a passageway in front to separate access to opposing ends. As I emerge from the gents, a couple of ladies are looking around in a state of confusion. The hand written signs are in English and Thai, which they don’t understand – so I take great delight in pointing them in the direction of the Ladies convenience. Ahha! Now you know what it feels like! How many times did this happen to me when I first came to China. I mean to be humorous here, and mean nothing by the observation; although some of you may have experienced similar I am sure.

The ladies were from one of the dozen or so other Chinese tourist groups that are also dining in this delightful setting. By the time I have squeezed a rout back to our table in the opposite corner the food is beginning to arrive. There is a large vat of unsalted and dry-cooked rice; three types of leaves; pork bones and gristle in blackbean sauce; a chicken chopped into 2 million pieces; and two dishes of Tofu in different styles. The table completes with a large fish that is comprised of a myriad of small bones and has an earthy flavour. Fortunately there is also a dish of batter pieces and capsicums cooked in sweet and sour sauce, which the others at the table do not like. I eat little here and mainly the sweet and sour which sometimes has a little pork inside, pork in blackbean sauce and one of the tofu dishes which is fried and quite good … albeit in a tofu sort of way.

This is undoubtedly the worst meal I have eaten on this trip and I soon escape outside. Others are not bar behind me and we bask in the glorious sunshine at the side of this dusty main highway, which has recently doubled as a Chinese tourist coach park. However, I have the real sense that we are not returning to Pattaya, and that the only direction from now on is Bangkok.

Sure enough, once aboard the coach it is not long before I recognise a major interchange that lies just south of the Capital. Just passed this the coach leaves the main highway and heads of along a minor road. Within ten minutes we are parked outside a modern building, given numbered badges as usual, and herded into whatever it is. We sit around the glass sides of a tank with seating in the round. Once a couple more coaches have arrived and the place is full a lad comes into the arena and opens a large wooden box. Warily putting a hand inside he extracts a couple of Cobra’s about 5 feet in length. He then gets them to inflate their necks in typical pose, before playing with them. I presume the box is chilled, as the snakes are actually pretty slow. I also seem to remember that King Cobras, which these are supposed to be, actually spit their dangerous venom. These seem pretty tame really and are well used to the performance I guess. Three stupid girls from another party were the last to arrive, and they chose to sit directly in front of us. The handler is playing to the crowd and immediately notices their reactions, so makes as if to throw one of the snakes at them. They dive for cover and cause havoc I the seats. I remain nonplussed, as if - Cummon girls!

The performance last about 10 minutes and then we are herded through the next room. This is where they keep a few snakes in showcase for visitors amusement. For me this is the highlight of the visit, as I am certain we will be subjected to Thai sales of medicinal snake products any moment. Charlie Chan hurries us all around a corner and into another corridor set with a dozen large rooms to either side. We enter one of the middle ones and shortly after a salesperson comes in wearing a Doctors coat and starts playing a video. Its all about snakes and snake venom – well I didn’t expect that!

The show lasts for another 10minutes and then the ‘doctor’ stands up and starts talking to everyone in Mandarin. A chorus of objections is immediately heard, and she goes outside. A few minutes later another ‘doctor’ enters and starts speaking Mandarin. The chorus rises again, and she immediately switches into Cantonese. I would have presumed she already would know that, but apparently not. She rattles on for 15 minutes and is only on product of 8 shown on the screen behind. I am thinking this will take ages when I am tapped on the shoulder by Mr Vegetarian who asks me in his good English if I understand any of this. I yes ‘yes quite a lot’, and explain to him they have just been talking about taking 2 tablets four times per day for one month, and then not taking any the next month. He blinks and stares at me, and his partner says I am quite correct. Ahha! I am getting the hang of this lingo after all. He congratulates me and says he understands absolutely nothing (Remember he has lived in Guangzhou for 13 years and doesn’t speak any Cantonese). I’m just thankful he asked me when he did, and not during a bit I didn’t understand.

Eventually the girl gets to slide four, and then speeds up a lot. The sales pitch wraps up and the doors burst open. In come a dozen more ‘nurses’ with A4 sheets of paper giving details of all the products. I get one in English, whilst the rest are in Chinese. That was good and shows attention to detail, not that it will sway me into a purchase in the slightest. Unfortunately after studying the information, Siu Ying decides she would quite like a bottle of one of the formulas. I point out to her the structured sales strategy by simply telling her the small bottle costing reasonable money is only enough for one week, but the course is for one month. She does the maths and decides its pretty expensive = correct! To confirm I say it is cheaper in Hong Kong and promise to buy her some next time I go … I just hope she doesn’t remember. I am one of the first to leave, and whilst many do make purchases, they do not dally her. Soon we are all back in the comfort of the bus as it heads back to the main highway.

We head for central Bangkok and being a large city it takes an hour or so to reach Downtown. We drive past a hotel called the Amari , which I think must be closely related to the Amari Atrium where we are due to stay tonight. Further on and we come to a very large and modern building with ‘King Power Duty Free’ plastered all over the outside. This looks like one hell of a large shopping complex designed to service the rich and wealthy. We are dropped off on a large service road that I later deduce is a part of the complex, and receive our complimentary numbered badges.

We are doing this obligatory ‘Sales’ thingymagig again aren’t we. The time is now around 3.30 pm and I want to contact Yupa (my ex Siamese girlfriend), to see if we can meet today and perhaps share dinner. Our captors are quite helpful and Mrs Guangzhou offers her mobile for me to place the call. We wait and it doesn’t work, so we try again next time after she has changed to the other sim card and inserted the required code. This time the phone rings, but there is no reply. Ho-Hum! She says she will try again later for us, which is most appreciated. Meantime I have the premonition this may not happen this visit, and so we go off into the vastness of King Power complex.

This place is massive! Radio controlled men in well cut suits guide us inside where we find the only way is right. This leads passed a few nondescript shops to a central hub with multiple information desks depending upon your enquiry. There is a theatre and multiplex cinema in here on floor 4 or 5 (I forget). There is a floor for eating, bars and entertainments. There are also other floors for business and leisure activities. However, our only way is up, and so we take the escalator. The wide and airy floor before us emerges into a typical duty free lounge most international airports cannot match. The first acre (Yes it is that big!) is given over to expensive imported spirits and other drinks, cigarettes, and chocolates. Siu Ying shows interest, but this quickly passes as we note the prices. However, if we buy a certain value, then we can claim the Thai VAT back, a complimentary service (Or a sales ploy depending upon your perspective).

We pass from this into a linking corridor lined with associated items such as Dutch butter biscuits, American candies, and the like. This opens to another acre of perfumeries, where we linger a while. They do have a very comprehensive selection, including old perfumes like the ones my Mother gave Siu Ying – she particularly liked Fifth Avenue (Original) by Elizabeth Arden, something I found surprising. They also have the latest offering including ‘Brittney’ full range, Kate Moss’s line, and others too numerous to mention. It was actually pretty good. Siu Ying dallied a while with the Moschino ‘Cheap n Chick’ offers and was tempted by one of them. This perfume does suit her, and I use the roll-on deodorant at times when I run out of Davidoff.

Mrs Guangzhou then appears and says she has connected with Yupa for us. We wait for the call which comes quickly and it is good to speak to her again. I gather our guide had been calling her at one-minute intervals, as is the Chinese way. I get told off for repeated calling to which I was oblivious and not party two. She had been with a client at the time, and came back to us as soon as possible. It turns out we can meet Yupa at her place of work before 6pm – or within the next 90 minutes. She tells me how to get there using the Skytrain, and I immediately forget the Thai names she rattled off with gay abandon. Whilst we do have a free pass for tonight, we have not yet reached our hotel, so I am presuming nothing. This alone means we would be best to remain with the group. Siu Ying is enjoying this experience also, so the temptation to rush off into early rush hour traffic in search of somewhere I do not know, using an unfamiliar transport system is making me have second thoughts. A taxi would be our best option to make this happen, but time and circumstances are against us today. I think it wise to forgo this meeting, and rearrange for our next visit to Siam, which should be around Chinese New Year in company with Jim. That will be independent travelling and a far more open and relaxing itinerary. Therefore we say our goodbyes and look forward to meeting next year instead.

That settled I thank Mrs Guangzhou for her diligence and use of her phone, offering to pay which she immediately dismisses. Thank you! My intention had been to actually buy a sim card, but it hardly seemed worth it for one call; when we would be in company of local people, and within easy reach of a public telephone also. Jim had also warned me just before we left Guangzhou, that Thai sim cards last for 1-year only and are then defunct – at least all the ones sold easily to foreigners are. Therefore you need to go to a proper phone shop and buy a regular sim card without these tourist restrictions. I was mindful of this and thought it best to defer until we make our next visit to this weird and fascinating Country.

We continue through the complex and come out eventually to a few modern brand shops such as Nike. Siu Ying is actually looking for Adidas which appears not to support a presence here. The Nike shop is very small and equally disappointing. They hold virtually nothing of interest for me, except a pair of trainers with far too many zero’s attached to the price tag to warrant a second glance (319, 000 Baht). It may have actually been the last two digits were in fact a stupid way of writing decimal places, but the sale was lost immediately. Siu Ying say’s Foshan is a lot better – so off we go.

This is where the floor ends in a descending escalator, so we head down and into the ground floor thoroughfare. The area is mainly devoted to souvenirs and knick-knacks, with odd stalls displaying some unusual and original items. This again covers another acre or so, and is mainly disinteresting and overpriced. We follow round into the curl of the ‘J’ shaped room, and find the toilets and exit. Passing through we hand back our cards and enter a small restaurant area with a gift shop along one wall. The escape route to fresh air is immediately in front of us, and whilst the canteen holds no fascination for us, the shop is very interesting. It sells mainly originally designed clothes and quality souvenirs that are affordable and unusual. I am very keen for my wife to buy one of the tops and possibly matching skirt, but she does not know the design so resists. I try to tell her this would be unique and very fashionable in China, plus also suit her very well. However, the lack of an international designer label works against my best efforts, so this passes us by also.

Instead I pass out through the exit door to the seriously controlled traffic thoroughfare beyond. Siu Ying goes back inside to visit the WC, and presumably wanders around at her leisure – doing whatever it is girls do in shops. I look left and right, and see a sign for the smoking area, so head in that direction. This comprises of an open seating area with benches and a canister bin with ashtray on top. Nearby is a covered area which is provided in case of inclement weather. I sit and smoke, and am joined as some wealthy Russian tourists settle for a nearby seat. I know they are talking about me and my smoking, so pay half an ear to what they are up to. There are a couple of small people nearest me idgeting around a couple of big women with peroxide hairdos. From their dour demeanour and frequent references to myself, I conclude they must be about to say something. I look back and these women then light cigarettes, and one smiles at me – meaning what I took for their hostility, was in fact that they were unsure about when and where they could smoke. I feel really stupid! No doubt they have experienced a torrid time trying to smoke anywhere in Thailand, and were reasoning that if I could do it and not be reprimanded, then so could they.

The endless line of coaches on tick-over clears for a second, and I espy my wife waving at me from across the road. I rise to join her; leaving a ‘Privyet’ for the ladies (Not ‘D’hos Vi’Dhania’ as is commonly incorrectly used), closely followed by ‘nZ’drovyen’ as I toast them with a puff of my cigarette. They laugh and say things I cannot understand as I smile and depart. I got up to about 50 words of Russian when I was dating Tatiana (My ex Russian girlfriend), but that was many years ago now, and so my memory for Russian language is a little rusty. However, I know I pronounced both words used correctly – as evidenced by their immediate response.

The waiting area opposite consists of a wide pavement and low wall ideal for using as a seat. To the back of this is a shrubbery consisting of tall plants with pretty flowers. They are home to a wide variety of invasive insect life which abounds with alacrity. Most of the said insects appear to prefer human company: be that for sunbathing, irritation, or luncheon purposes. ‘We are not amused’, and show our independence by moving around a lot, squashing insects that also like to move around a lot, and generally standing up outside of their limited range. It would be just my luck for Starship Troopers to be on the box tonight.

This is echoed with the hive of activity which surrounds the departure point – which is incidentally where we are now. The boys and girls here all wear pretty and very expensive uniforms, complete with multi-function headsets with which they control the ebb and flow of dedicated traffic. Remember, this is all specific localised traffic consisting of tour coaches, Toyota shuttle buses, and their own convenience vehicles that can best be describes as either 3 or 4 wheeled Mini-Mokes powered by sustainable energy. If you are a ‘Prisoner’ (Patrick McGoohan) fan then you will immediately know what I am referring too; No. 6.

I am well up for a serious beer tonight, a thought expounded upon when we eventually reassemble into a group and head for our next destination – which turns out to be dinner. This is held in the large back room of a once nice hotel which still retains glimpses of former glory. The hotel must lie outside of any star rating system, as I simply cannot understand what it was all about. It’s the sort of place were one would half-expect The Stranglers to have recorded their original ‘Golden Brown’ video.

The meal commences as we try to find where they have hidden the toilets – well, underneath the Grande Stairs of course. Unfortunately for those in dire need, the sign points passed the Colonial balusters, only to have another set of hidden signs indicating where said ‘conveniences’ are actually located = just next to the plant you were standing by (But on the other side of it). The word Baluster originates from the Ancient Greek meaning ‘Flower of the wild pomegranate’; and this seems quite an appropriate summary of this edifice to human ebullience.

Having mastered the first test, we then proceed into the mess hall and are greeted by waving arms from those of our party whom distained from playing this impromptu game of ‘Find the Donkey’s Tale’. Again we are split into two tables, as apparently Thailand hasn’t got its head round making circular tables bigger than those suitable for servicing 8 Dwarves – well, 7 and a Princess of course. My Princess has decided to join the boys for this meal, and is sitting comfortably beside me.

The snow white rice is first to appear in a vast pot, and I catch the waitress as she turns to leave and order three cold beers in Cantonese. She asks me what brand, and I reply with ‘Singha’. She says ‘Sam Ba’t Mun’ and I hand over the dosh. That was exceptionally easy!

She reappears moments later and opens the bottles. Billy Bostin immediately grabs one and starts filling up our glasses – he is up for this as well! It would seem that tonight “Canton Joe” is taking over Bangkok!

‘Canton Joe’ is a loose expression that is used throughout greater China to indicate a person of lowest esteem. It means: ‘Mr. nobody’ literally (or not Han Chinese). However, it is similar in some respects to the way Afro-Americans or Brotha’s all over the world use the word ‘Nigger’, and especially in UK – as it has opposite meanings and connotations when applied to the inner circle. Therefore if a Brotha calls you a nigger, this is a high compliment.

Back at the table the meal is quite fair for Cantonese cuisine as served seemingly endlessly in Thailand. Billy Bostin gets the next round in as Wiley Will gets out his bottle of Thai VSOP and inveigles the girls and boys to go for it. We have a great time, so much so that Charlie Chan makes a brief appearance before realising we are not going to be hassled this time, and are here for the duration!

And that is why ok food and ok drinks, and great company can make for a fantastic meal. The surreal surroundings helped of course, which were not lost on my friends either. But of course, Thailand is completely non-smoking indoors; so I am the first to head out for a fag. I know this breaks the flow of conversation and rhythm of the table, but we are all going to do it very soon anyways. As I leave I notice Charlie Chan and Mrs. Guangzhou set around a small table in an alcove, and wonder why they do not join the party?

The lads and several girls soon join me outside in short succession, and I give them all a cigarette. It is a fact that I am the only person who travelled to Thailand to bring enough cigarettes with them for the whole trip, and more. Maybe it is because I have travelled internationally many times, but I still have a full carton left! They on the other hand have suffered miserably, and I have given a few packets out for free by the way. They had the idea that you can go to Thailand and buy cheap Chinese cigarettes =No.

Thailand does not actually sell any Chinese cigarettes at all – something I mentioned to Charlie Chan as being a service he could easily provide (And make money from). So the guys and gals have been searching retailers for anything smokeable at all, and at inflated prices when compared to China. They don’t like Marlboro nor 555; so my Hong Kong ‘Double Happiness’ fags that are very reminiscent of Benson and Hedges hit their spot.

Having 14 of our party of 17 standing outside smoking seriously compromises the fun at the table, so between us we decide that tonight is for plan ‘B’! We return after a few minutes and order a couple more beers to see this part of the night off, but basically drinking and smoking really go well together, and this can no longer be the place. Sad but very true…

Noticing we are about done here, Charlie Chan rocks up leisurely and says we should perhaps head for the coach. I think he is amazed when we all do so immediately, as I suspect he thought he may be marooned here for the night. Within a minute we are all outside waiting for him and Mrs. Guangzhou to arrive. Meanwhile the plaza has been transformed into a carnival, and there are many show-girls dressed in adorning wispy bits of cloth vying for our attention. It is hard to pass them by unaffected, and so we don’t. I extract myself from the clutches one winsome young lady clad only in: a crown, cape, silver knickers, and sporting only tassels on her firm young breasts – to the approval of my wife (Who was watching!). That was a close-call then!

Well, not really actually – as all they were after was you taking a photo of them with you, with your own camera; and you paying them a lot of money for the privilege. Get real!

A couple of the boys get conned before we move on and wait for the charabanc to spark into life and reveal the next part of our expedition – the hotel for our last night’s stay in Siam.

Justin Case you wondered, I use the word ‘Siam’ because this is what Yupa calls her Country with proudest connotations. I’m not going to do politics I don’t understand; but it appears that the Red Shirts are pro-King and pro- traditional Siamese values. Whereas the Yellow Shirts are supporters of global business and great fiscal benefits for those already wealthy ones in charge of a semi-democratic corporation they call ‘Thailand’. I’ll leave that here for you to develop to your own ends.

The hotel is in fact a proper western 4 star and it is immediately in evidence. We wait as a group whilst our chaperones sort out the rooms. I tell the others we are off out tonight, and that I spotted a likely place for us just up the road. The Likely Lads say 5-minutes, and Wiley Will croaks up with ‘us too’. He is a lovely happy bloke, but has a throat problem that means he does not have use of his vocal chords. Therefore he sort of whispers words and it takes great attention for me to understand him. We ‘high-five’ in international understanding - and with the thought of more beers beckoning. The sensible ones amongst us say 30 minutes, so we all agree to meet in reception at 8pm sharp.

The room is very nice and we shower and change in short haste. I manage to get a little charge into my phone, don fresh clothes, and we are off. Several of the lads and Wiley Will’ team are waiting for us in reception. The others rock up shortly after and we decide to allow an extra 5-minutes for stragglers. A couple of other join us, as do Charlie Chan and Mrs Guangzhou. I wasn’t expecting them, but apparently they want to go out tonight, so may as well come along and look after us lot. We are 14 or so, and that is our number decided when Charlie takes the lead following my directions. We amble up the road and take out time because I am conscious Billy Bostin cannot walk far on his gammy leg. However, seeing as I am the only one amongst us that was thinking ahead to reckie the hereabouts on our arrival, I actually need to be leading this rag-taggle army of lost souls.

I soon stop opposite our destination, which is across a busy city highway with fencing separating the sides. However we are at a crossing point provided for U-turning cars, so I wait for the rest to catch up. Meanwhile a guy comes out from an adjacent restaurant sharking for custom. I ask him in various languages if we can smoke, drink and have food there. His reply is in the affirmative to all three. He then returns to the shadows as the others arrive. I lay out the options: across the road is the nearest place I think may be suitable, or we can try the one next to us. The group decide to cross the road, but are met by plumes of barbecue smoke on the other side, as the tables appear to consist of burning fat. They ask is there anywhere else, and I reply there are a few more places half a mile up the road. I say we should take a taxi, to which everybody says ‘no’. Sobeit!

After a mere 600 yards I am concerned for Billy, and the group are now fed up with walking. Siu Ying says I am losing face. What! I know that quite soon we will be at a larger area of bars, and I did say we should take a taxi. At this point Charlie Chan comes up and shouts out he has the perfect plan – we are going to China Town. Hurrah! Shout the group behind. This settled we all pile into three taxis and are soon on our way.

The journey takes 50 minutes and costs me 85 Baht. I pay up and we step into China Town, Bangkok. Well it certainly looks like China from the sprawl of street eateries and shops all crammed full of interesting titbits and essential items. My problem is that this area is just over a short block long, and has a main highway running through the middle of it. This is a most bizarre place, augmented by the observation that despite the teaming restaurants, they are all small and seen to cater for the size of our party as their maximum – and they are all full already. I can’t see this happening at all.

Charlie obviously had a plan, which appears to be closed for renovations. Now if we lived here, or were making a night of it, this area would be fine, despite the busy road dissecting the place in two. However, Wiley Will is the first to say this is not what he is looking for, and the general chorus echoes his croaks for all to hear. That settled we thank Charlie and hail a few cabs. The journey back takes only 20 minutes and costs 40 Baht – I was conned!

More sober now we pile out of the taxis and into the first place I had proposed. Gongmuen Greg asks where the hotel is, so I turn him around and point at the only big and brightly lit building hereabouts. ‘Is it that close’ he exclaims in glee, and I have to tell him ‘yes’?

The place consists of around one hundred concrete mushroom tables each suitable for about 6 people. It is very busy and there must be nearing one thousand people here tonight. The flat top of the mushroom table is a descent size and has a Thai cooking contraption in the centre. The base of this is the burner, which is fed by a gas pipe that droops over the table and down to the floor, crossing the bust aisle, and connecting with a blue gas bottle. Obviously the concrete tables and seats negate this as being a fire hazard. I feel right at home, and were it not for what is perched on top of the burner, could imagine this was street-side Canton. You cook on a sort of phallic head about a foot across, and steeply sided. Fat can drip down to a ring that surrounds the base of this part, or it can drip directly into the flames below. I come to believe that only Thai people could have created such a weird looking and efficient style of combined ‘hotpot-barbecue’. There is a picture of it to the side, as my description is woefully lacking – see right near page bottom.

There is a communal ordering of sorts, to which I add beef strips and mushrooms + 3 cold beers. The beers arrive within one minute, are ice cold, and not the brand I like best, but are ok. Wiley Will actually chose the brand, and I know it to be slightly sweet, and the cheapest around. I make a note to change it next time. With people settling and wondering, I head for the loos and take a wander around to get my bearings at the same time. From what I can work out, this place is like a large covered carpark that for the most part rises slowly up towards a central plateau. This has two rows of open-sided tents which are host to the personal ordering area. These in turn split into sections offering: meats, fish, shellfish, vegetables, and fruit. It is impressive and worthy of a visit next time around – which could be later tonight for all I know…

Beyond this the restaurant dips again towards the kitchens proper, and to the left lies an area reminiscent of old fashioned supermarket loading bays, you may remember, the ones full of scrap and hand-pulled trolley before pallets and truck-docks were invented, (I did actually think this at the time!). It is in this quarter that I see the international green sign for WC. Inside this lean-to are a dozen stalls containing Chinese traps, and one singular urinal hidden just around the corner. The place appears to be mixed sex, as both men and women fight over the traps and 3 hand basins. I use the stand pipe outside to wash my hands, and so avoid the squabbling queue. I stand back to ponder: 1, 000 people in here at any one time, so that’s one trap per 100 patrons. The three sinks then must cater for 330 people each. Yes Jim, Thailand is just as weird as China, but in a different way.

Returning to the table I have no idea what we are incinerating most of the time, but it is very good and authentic. The brown slugs turn out to be spicy chicken, and the beef strips are great. Wiley Will shows me how to cook the meatballs in the fat tray, a round cup set beneath the main cooking top, as we mix and match across all our three adjoining tables. The beers and VSOP are flowing tonight, and not only are we toasting within our group, but also with other Cantonese speakers nearby. I can’t really do justice about this place, nor remember exactly what we ate; although I do remember some excellent squid near the end, accompanied by several trays of already cooked meat kebabs.

I’ll tell you this much – it was a great evening which we all enjoyed immensely!

I think it ended around midnight, but I’m not sure. Will and I were debating whether to order a few more beers, or another bottle of VSOP whatever, when Charlie Chan seized the moment and standing, said it was time to go to the hotel. Then looking our way he added that those who wanted to continue could do so back at the hotel – which has 4 bars and 24-hour service. This was an excellent move, and I respect him very much for this. At that moment I was up for a lot more partying, but his call was spot-on for everybody, including myself and Will. Charlie then pays the bill, which we all object to but none of us had considered. He brushes it aside as all being a part of the tour, and I have to admit, not for this in particular, but for many, many other reasons, he has been excellent – and constantly reliable every moment throughout our trip!

The short walk back to the hotel is refreshing, and we vaguely chat about hitting a hotel bar, but why spoil and excellent night out – the best of our times in Thailand (To date), with fuelling a drunken binge. Regaining the hotel foyer we all decide to call it a night, and Charlie informs us we have nothing to do tomorrow except make breakfast for 9am and then leave for the airport at 10 o’clock sharp.

Back at our room we relax and enjoy a moments peace and quite. We both really enjoyed tonight and are merry (Very), but not drunk. We did some couples stuff that you should not be interested in, but which did involve the bath, and me doing my Austin Powers photography. Siu Ying thinks she has since managed to delete all the pictures ; -)

The TV is on low and provides suitable noise to cover our antics. We have the first fully stocked mini bar of our trip, and have no inclination to partake. I guess we gambol around until 3am or so, before hitting the comfortable sack and drifting off into dream-world.

This chilled and social evening has balanced my perceptions of Thailand into a greater whole; and my last waking thoughts are of my wife, my new friends, and of a full English breakfast tomorrow morning…