One Day in Bangkok (Venice/Shanghai Style…)

Finishing :-( my vacation with another day in Bangkok. This is a city of almost 10 million people, a city of neon lights, high rises, horrendous traffic, somewhat excessive air pollution, and thoroughly excessive shopping malls—in short, the modern megapolis. Which is all fine and good, but I was in the mood for something a little more tranquil for my last day of R&R (after all, the previous day featured an all-day park adventure … bookended by a pair of 2.5-hour bus rides between Bangkok and Pak Chong).

So, I headed to Venice … or more properly “the Venice of Asia”. This is what Bangkok was known as at one time—although it is really only an accurate description of the Thonburi region, across the river from the heart of Bangkok. This is a neighborhood of canals, residences, and temples – nary a high-rise or shopping mall in sight. I hired a long-tail boat and just cruised. I suspect the Venice of Italy may be a touch more beautiful, but Thonburi fit what I was looking for: it was very, very relaxing. Even my oh-I-don’t-know-call-it-fiftieth wat tour of the trip (to Wat Arun) was made more special arriving to and leaving from the boat dock.

For my last night of vacation, another splurge – US$70 for a room at the Shanghai Inn in Bangkok’s Chinatown. This is a nice little boutique hotel recommended by Lonely Planet. Literally $40 a night more than any other place I stayed in SE Asia, but no other place I stayed looked like this. Hmmm, maybe I’ll stay a few more weeks …

Tiger? Tiger?

Khao Yai National Park is Thailand’s oldest and largest. It is home to an impressive assortment of large and/or exotic and/or scary beasties. For example, leopards, bears, macaques, elephants (of the wild variety … domesticated elephants are everywhere in Thailand), cobras (of the ‘King’ variety – and several others), pythons, and tigers. Seeing any or all of these would be great (note: I said “seeing” only), so off I went.

Rather than blundering about on my own, I signed up for a full-day tour organized by one of the guest houses in the nearby town of Pak Chong (specifically the Khao Yai Garden Lodge). This is absolutely the way to go. Your fee gets you a truck and driver for the day, a guide, and lunch. Most importantly, it gets you your guide’s knowledge of where to go and his uncanny (in Ruong’s case at any rate) ability to spot animals. You may have trouble locating the whip snake in my photo – which was taken from 2’ away. Ruong spotted it 15’ feet off the road as our truck drove by at 20 miles an hour! It is easy to imagine an unescorted visitor failing to find any wildlife at all.



With Ruong’s assistance, however, we saw: barking deer, elephants, gibbons, horn-bills, the whip snake, macaques, guar, turtles, and an interesting species of millipede that rolls up into a perfect hard sphere when touched. Oh, and of course, leeches. Lots of leeches. Your tour fee also covers leech-sock rental. And, I should amend my previous statement. It is easy to imagine an unescorted visitor failing to find any wildlife other than leeches, which would probably be found attached to the leg (I flicked a good 2 dozen off my socks, which I am pleased to say was done effortlessly).

We didn’t find the elusive tiger though. Even Ruong has never seen one in the park. Researchers visiting earlier this year did, identifying at least 3 individuals through their unique stripe patterns—but they apparently spent more than 8 hours looking, and ventured more than a few feet from roads and well-trodden paths. Oh well, maybe next time…

Sukhothai / Sukhothai Airport

Sukhothai was Thailand’s first capital. The era of the city’s prominence (the 13th to 15th centuries) is widely regarded as a sort of golden age … a highpoint in art, architecture, religious and civic life. Then came invasion, war, strife, the vagaries of domestic politics, new trade routes and centers, unpredictable real-estate markets and questionable home-financing schemes, and the hub of Thai civilization shifted away—first to Lopburi, then to Ayuthaya, and ultimately to Bangkok (where some clever locals had put down sticky paper and seemingly have ended its peripatetic ways).

Now, Old Sukhothai is a National Park, home to the largely ruined temples and monuments of that shining hour. It is like the Angkor region but on a much smaller scale. And, “smallness” turns out to have its upside as well as its drawbacks. On the negative side, the structures are nowhere near as ambitious or extensive as their Cambodian cousins. Corresponding positive – there are far, far fewer sightseers. There is a grandeur to Angkor that is not found here. But, there is a serenity to Sukothai that provides some not wholly imperfect recompense. …Walking, bicycling, scootering about, or just lying under a tree, this is a pleasant place to be.

Angkor is something everyone should see. It is worth traveling half-way ‘round the world to explore (so, just do it already!). Sukhothai is different. If you’re in the neighborhood, drop by and have a leisurely visit (but only a few of you at a time, please).

Postscript:
To save myself a 7-hour bus ride at an inconvenient hour, I splurged (US$65 outlay) for a flight from Sukhothai to Bangkok. And, Sukhothai has quite possibly the world’s nicest airport. It is microscopic but perfect – like a painting on a grain of rice carried out by an old man with unfathomably steady hands, who is inexplicably not blind as a result of his chosen profession. It is nicer than Santa Barbara’s, nicer than Kauai’s. Please check out photos of my complimentary corsage (I flew coach), the terminal (replete with hoards of orchids and dripping water “walls”), and of course the airport’s chedi.

Another Kind of Paradise

Paradise isn’t always pristine, picturesque, and perfumed; sometimes it’s shabby, sweaty, and stinky. Such is the Lanna Muay Thai Training Camp in Chiang Mai, Thailand, where I have taken Muay Thai classes the last two days. I say “classes,” but Lanna isn’t about fitness-oriented group workouts; it’s about serious individual training. This is Kronk’s, this is Smokin’ Joe’s, this is not Sports Club LA. Most people here are professional fighters – or intend to be. (One woman I talked to has an upcoming stadium bout in Bangkok where the winner will receive US$8K … a pretty big payday in Thailand.)


Needless to say, I don’t belong here. I am pretty fair at Taekwondo point sparring (or used to be), but this is something else. Sure, Muay Thai is a sport. But it is also war. Winning isn’t mostly about precision. There is no sense of “outscoring your opponent.” Almost all fights end in knockouts, and those that do not are awarded to the combatant who has inflicted greater damage.

The Muay Thai roundhouse kick is widely regarded as the hardest blow in all of martial arts (and its elbow and knee strikes ain’t no love pats). Andy, who taught me the kick, is a Canadian-born Scot who has lived, trained, fought (professionally), and taught in Thailand for 18 years. He embodies Muay Thai. On the one hand, he is very, very fit (and dangerous) for a 45-year old. On the other hand, he retains a lower percentage of his original teeth than I do of my original hair. Perhaps, it isn’t so bad I don’t belong here.


The owner of the facility is a former top pro, who was forced to retire 11 years ago following a scooter/car collision (he was on the scooter). He is almost completely healed, but his left leg never quite got back up to pro-fighting caliber. He is a joy! Although he speaks little English, he has an infectious smile, great personality, and true gift at martial arts. I am fortunate that he spends a great deal of time (like, 30 minutes?!?) sparring with me during each of my two visits. Even without formal verbal communication, I feel I learn a lot. My roundhouse kick (with my right leg at any rate) seems to begin hitting with real force. One of the great things about vacation is stepping outside your little world. For six great hours spread over two days, I feel I do belong at Lanna.

Author’s Note:
I realize I am giving high praise to many of the sights and activities of this trip. This feels “wrong” … or at least out of character. Normally, I am pretty discriminating, not a complainer or nit-picker, but (I feel) I am not easily impressed.

So, one of 3 things is going on. I may have gotten soft. Or, perhaps, I haven’t had a vacation in so long that I have temporarily let my judgmental guard down with respect to travel. Hopefully, though, it is just that a combination of good research, high-quality recommendations, and smiling fortune has led to great outcomes. I suspect it is the last; but caveat lector.

Not too terrible

Hoi An is idyllic as idyllic was meant to be—not like Carmel, California where a small gelato will set you back 5 bucks (and “No, I’m sorry, sir, it is only 1 flavor in the small; if you’d like 2, might I suggest the medium?”). Nope. This is paradise that you can afford to sample, not just stop by and spy on. Here a nice room (with breakfast), a fine dinner, and an evening’s drinks will set you back less than the cover at some South Beach clubs (err, umm… or so I am told).

Downtown Hoi An is exceedingly cute. This was once an important trading center, but activity shifted away around the end of the 18th century. So the old town, which consisted of wealthy trader’s homes and shops, has gone largely unchanged lo these 200 years (although I expect in 1717, there were fewer tailors). Note: my hotel was a 4 minute walk out of old town … they felt bad about this & compensated with free bicycles.






Even the music in Hoi An is better than what I have found elsewhere in Vietnam. The old stuff skews more towards CCR and Beatles than Lionel Ritchie or Stevie Wonder. And, there was some decent newer stuff – I was happy to find one bar with Coldplay on (…and, no, I’m not gay).

Oh, yeah, and did I mention there’s a beach?

No Hue. Hue.

On my third attempt, I have found my way to the old imperial capital of Vietnam – Hue. (Tried to fly here directly from Cambodia: no flights; then, tried to fly from Hanoi: no seats; finally, success with the soft-sleeper on the overnight train from Hanoi.) Here is the less hyper-active Vietnam; here is the historical Vietnam; here is the not quite what was expected Vietnam.

When I think “historical” outside of the US – especially in Asia – I think ancient, I think in terms of uninterrupted civilization stretching back millennia … frankly, I think of the Temple of Literature in Hanoi. The imperial Nguyen dynasty, on the other hand, wasn’t begun until 1802, and the city of Hue wasn’t founded until 1804 (San Francisco is actually older!). To be sure, there are some beautiful, interesting, and exotic sights here … but they are merely elderly, not antediluvian.




The Imperial Citadel is, obviously, one of the main draws. I really enjoyed visiting here, in part because it is (currently) an almost equal mixture of three very different environments: structures which survived the French and American wars, re-built structures, and ruins. I think one day all of the ruins will be replaced with reconstructions, and while it will then be a grander place, it will probably be a little bit less interesting, too.





Another highlight hereabouts is the Thanh Toan covered footbridge. This lies about 6 km. east of Hue, where it can only be found unexpectedly after one has gotten lost a half dozen times and is on the verge of abandoning all hope. (This may be what Thanh Toan means in Vietnamese.) I was so uncertain of ever finding it that I had ridden my scooter into it before realizing what it was. (Note: I don’t think you are supposed to ride scooters through the bridge … but there was no sign at all in the direction from which I approached, and the sign on the other end was only in Vietnamese … but I do recognize that “Cam” with both a circumflex and an accident aigu over the a denotes “Forbidden”—and there was a long list of things forbidden to be done on the bridge.)

Charms, Scrutable and Inscrutable

If Angkor Wat is a true man-made marvel (doubters, see previous entry) then Halong Bay, Vietnam is an equally legitimate natural wonder. The islands of Halong are like Paris Hilton—they pop up in unexpected places, surprise you with their beauty, shock you with their defiance of natural and/or human law, and feature granite headlands. (Actually, we know the islands are made of limestone; investigations into the composition of Ms. Hilton are continuing.)



Just back from a 2-day, 1-night visit aboard the Halong Phoenix. Fabulous, highly recommended outing, which combined take-your-breath-away sightseeing, fun cave exploring, strenuous sea-kayaking, pleasant swimming & junk diving (alas, no photo of back-flip off the 2nd deck… ), and feasting on day-caught seafood & other local specialties. On top of which, cabins were roomy with nice private baths and, extravagantly, air conditioning. (I guess I should have expected luxury when I’ve shelled out a million … dong.)





The beauty of Halong is manifest, its appeal universal—as attested to by the diversity of tourists going in and the homogeneity of mood & expression of those coming out (all happiness, smiles all around … even from the Scandinavians). On the other hand, the subtle – but apparently insuperable – charms of Karaoke do not reveal themselves to just anyone. Our tour guides “treated” us to an evening of Karaoke aboard the Phoenix, in celebration of one travelling couple’s just-begun honeymoon. We 19 guests seemed not quite to “get it.” But, the 5 guides and crewmen who were participating were enraptured. They sang 80% of the songs – not frequently with competence, but always undeniably (even enviably) with glee. I’m not sure a poor rendition of Lionel Ritchie’s “Hello” constitutes an only-in-your-dreams wedding tribute—but I’m sure it made for an unforgettable one.

…This leads to the broader question of why there is so much old and/or bad (usually ‘and’) music here in Vietnam. I can buy an early cut of the next Indiana Jones movie on DVD from a guy in front of my hotel, so I know content availability isn’t an issue. Why isn’t anyone Karaoke-ing to, or for that matter listening to, the Bravery, Interpol, or even just the Killers?