:: Thursday, July 25, 2002 ::

Chiang Mai and Chiang Khong

Chiang Mai is reckoned to be the capital of northern Thailand. It's a reasonably big city, and the old part of town is bordered by a moat in a perfect square shape, giving it a nice manageable feel. The most anal fact about this town is that in 87% of its area, you are never more than 93 metres from the nearest Wat (Buddhist temple). Graeme, Gordon and the two of us had many a drunken discussion about the relevance of 93 metres. The only satisfactory solution was that it is the distance travelled by a spinning monk, when you grab him by his (bright orange) robe, and twirl him round like a spinning top. We have yet to scientifically test this theory.

We arrived in Chiang Mai at 6.04am and were whisked in our semi-conscious state from the train station to a remarkably cheap guest house called Lanna's. There we were greeted by the extremely bubbly and worryingly over-enthusiastic Julie (renamed Me Julie before we left). Julie is the only person over the age of 30 I've ever met who can shout 'Hey baby! Gimme five! Me love you long time!' at 6 in the morning, and actually sound like she means it! Anyway, she proceeded to ply us with copious free coffee until we were wired. Then she began the hard sell on her trek... Chiang Mai is a centre for trekking, and each guest house competes to offer the most exciting 3-day adventures. If you signed up for Lanna's trek, the room was half price (a quid a night), and if you didn't sign up, then you didn't stay at Lanna's. Or as Me Julie put it: 'some people real snob, you know? I tell them fuck off stay at posh hotel! Sorry for my language. I don't care I naughty'. Anyway, as it turned out, Lanna's was one of the better ones, with a friendly group (we ended up spending around a week hanging out with them), and knowledgable guides. The itinerary was: 1st day: elephant trek followed by hike up the mountain to visit the Laho hill tribe, and overnight in a bamboo hut. 2nd day: Hike to waterfall, 3rd day: Hike to bamboo rafting station. Raft down to white-water rafting centre, then drive back. Unfortunately we never made it past day two, as a bit of food poisoning meant that we had to go back to Chiang Mai. However, the 4x4 truck which took us down the steep, pitted and soaking wet mud-track more than made up for any missed excitement on the rafts. The only other casualty apart from the food poisoning was Grame's eye. Having made it safely through the trek, he, Gordon, us two and the rest of the 12-strong group went out to enjoy a couple of halves of shandy. Five bottles of whisky later, one guy was so drunk he ended up paying 1,000 Baht (17 quid) for a taxi back to hostel... which was next door. Graeme mysteriously awoke (2 days later) looking like he'd gone ten rounds with Tyson. Despite his claims that it was an old injury which had been re-aggravated, we are convinved that he tried it on with Gairdie in a moment of madness, and got a less than enthusiastic reception.

Another notable Chiang Mai feature was a Wat up on a hill 20 kms outside the town, which offered amazing views of the city, together with the opportunity to witness arrogant Dutch tourists kicking donation boxes out the way, then standing in front of Buddha statues, crotch in hand, for a 'hilarious' photo opportunity. The taxi which took us up the nauseatingly windy road to the Wat proudly announced the services of a 'minibus to Mae Rim' which had us in stitches for, ooh, minutes. In 'Mae Rim', one could apparently see an Elephant conservation centre (whose slogan was: 'Where smily faces and happy elephants are making the daily scenario'), as well as a monkey school where happy, fulfilled (oh, and chained-up) monkies learnt to ride bikes and romp for the pleasure of the adults watching. So many activities in such a confined space!

We indulged in a few recovery days, divided between tours of the town and watching ripped-off DVDs in the hostel (the DVDs are actually recordings made with a digital camera inside a local cinema, so they come complete with coughs and snorts from the audience). We then caught a bus to Chiang Kong, which is up near the golden triangle - where the borders of Thailand, Burma and Lao meet - and stayed in a lovely guesthouse overlooking the impressive Mekong river. This was followed by a 2-day boat trip down to Luang Prabang in Lao, where we arrived this afternoon. The boat itself was a rickety old thing with a couple of benches, but it was overcrowded, so most of us were left languishing on the floor for 6 hours at a time. The stunning scenery, games of pontoon and cheely banter from our co-travellers made it an unforgettable experience, even if we only had a bag of crisps and 4 Dairylea cheese triangles to see us through the day!

:: Barney 2:51 PM [+] ::
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Ayuttaya

I believe that the French refer to to towns like Ayuttaya as a 'sheet 'ole'. Unfortunately the English translation escapes me at the moment. This was one of the most soulless, dirty, two-bit, stinking horrible towns either of us have ever visited. One of the few guesthouses which made it into the Lonely Planet with a positive review ('hospitable') turned out to be the least hospitable of any that we have visited. The heat was searing on the day we arrived, so we agreed to pay twice the going rate for a room with air-con, but even this was rubbish - attached to the wall with parcel tape and clunking all night. As we went up to sleep, the surly owner's wife (American bloke, Thai lady. You work it out), told us in her best broken English to 'blow out candles on first floor. I cannot be arse to do it.' To cap it all off the house was littered with what appeared to be the corpses of former emplyees who had been abandoned where they fell. Oh, and there was no running water in the bathroom. What fun!

Despite its unfortuante guesthouses, Ayuttaya deservedly retains its UNESCO World Heritage Site classification largely because of its collection of top-class Wats. These buddhist temples are remnants of the days when Ayuttaya was the capital of Siam. Over the course of history they were repeatedly sacked, looted and burned by crazed Burmese hordes, until the Siamese eventually got bored and relocated the capital to Thonburi (and then over the river into Bangkok). However, enough remnants have survived to make the temples truly stunnning. In one of them, tree-roots have grown around a Budha's head, so it looks like it's carved into the bark. All of the temples are surrounded by crab-apple trees. Allegedly the invading Burmese troops used to fill up on crab-apples, which would lead to a spot of the Rangoon runnies. New trees then sprouted in the spots where they gave birth to their little brown babies. One can only conclude that the Burmese excrete in remarkably neat rows.

After making a hasty exit from Ayuttaya, we boarded an overnight train 700km North to Chiang Mai. Not only did we have fresh sheets and pillows, but they served us a hot a-la-carte meal in the evening, and charged only eight squid each, all-in. Ah... it makes you proud to be British! Chaing Mai is like a return to civilsation, and we'll be based here for a few days. On the morning of the 18th we are off trekking for three days in the Thai/Burmese border region, thankfully some way from where the cross-border shellings have occurred. We'll be elephant trekking, bamboo rafting and white-water rafting. As if that wasn't exciting enough, we'll be doing it in the company of our long-lost mates Graeme and Gordon. Both are looking very rugged after 10 months travelling the world, but have retained their inimitable sense of humour (last night treating a bar-load of people to their highly original interpretation of 'Bohemian rhapsody'). Gordon was last seen disappearing with two Dutch beauties, and you'll have to keep glued to your screens to find out what happens next. In any case, we'll be getting snap-happy with the digicam, and we'll share the results with you asap.
:: Barney 10:42 AM [+] ::
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Kanchanaburi

On 10th July we took the two hour bus-ride to the town of Kanchanaburi, famed for the 'Bridge on the River Kwai' along the WWII Death Railway. The town itself was so instantly appealing that within five minutes of arriving we extended our stay to two days, although this wasn't enough. We stayed in a lovely river-side guesthouse called the Jolly Frog, apparently named after the leagues of giggling frogs hidden in the reeds along the riverbanks.

On the bus we hooked up with an extremely cool wiseguy art-teacher (half Yorkshireman half Italian) called James Petrucci. James has a lot in common with us, not least because of his penchant for reciting movie quotes ad nauseam, and fantasising about acts of extreme violence against unscrupulous bar-owners who put Backstreet Boys on the jukebox. But his piece de resistance was the question: What's the biggest animal you could kill with your bare hands, wearing only a loincloth? After convincing us all that he could 'do' most household animals, and even dispose of a giraffe in seconds (without even kicking its face off), he then sh*t his pants at the first dog that barked within a mile of him. Respeck.

We had heard rumours of a number of spectacular waterfalls near Kanchanaburi, and quickly decided to hire a vehicle to get us around. Not only did we quickly rule out mopeds, but we managed to keep it street and impress all the chicks by landing ourselves a BMW. After we'd signed the rental 'agreement' (with clauses such as 'You will not allow more than 8 people in the vehicle at any one time), we discovered that it was equipped with a Toyota engine, and a slightly less than linear steering wheel - but hey - you can't have it all. By way of compensation, we discovered it had not only an overdrive button, but also a voice box with a smooth American lilt, and a habit of calling me 'Michael'. Actually, that's not quite true, but it did have a tape of Thai techno-pop called 'Can Can Dance', so we were happy. On the first day we made it to San yok noi, where we showered under the falls, and explored the caves, one of which mysteriously contained some life-size buddhas, bats and rapacious mozzies.

On our return to the guest house, Barney stumbled into the bathroom, and lazily opened the loo seat to discover a positive army of cockroaches feasting on an earlier skid... (bear in mind these places have no flush - just bowls of water which you slosh into the offending area and hope for the best). Delighted by the light flooding over them, they scampered out of the bowl and made good with their legs across open bog-floor. We decided not to prove our animal-killing claims, and opted for changing rooms instead. That night we sat on a jetty over the river Kwai, drinking beer, listening to the frogs and watching the bats zig-zag in front of our faces. Suitably awed by our surroundings, and with enough beer in us to kill a small army, we decided to walk the 100 metres or so to the famous Bridge in the River Kwai. The 100 metres turned out be more like two miles, but we had choccie ice creams and a discussion about cake and giraffes to occupy us so it went in a flash. We staggered over the precarious planks of wood which constitute the footpath along the bridge, fully in the knowledge that one slip could end it all, and then we staggered back. We froze with fear every time we heard a car horn or an engine, fearing the approcach of a 1,000-tonne Intercity125, but with the Thai railway service being somewhat less efficient than its gleaming British counterpart, we lived. This time. We were somewhat humbled the following day, when we visited the town's JEATH Museum - bizarre acronym, great museum - and saw the exhibits showing the reality of life for the tens of thousands of allied POWs who were forced by the Japanese army to build the railway through Siam to Burma. The project, which should have taken several years, was completed in only 15 months. This was due to the horrendous overworking of the POWs, who were underfed and left to die of malaria and untreated ulcers in their thousands. Many of those who survived were made to stand on the bridge and wave to the British bombers who came along to destroy the bridge at the end of the War. The railway is known as 'Death Railway', because it is thought that one prisoner died for every sleeper laid along the route.

Feeling distinctly lucky at our easy existence and the peace and beauty around Kanchanaburi today, we headed off in the Beemer for another set of waterfalls. The Erewan falls consist of seven stepped falls, each one more beautiful and more inaccessible than the last. The water was Elsan-blue, and we couldn't resist jumping in for a swim. However, the plunge pools were jam-packed with fish (I swear they were sharks...) which surrounded us and nipped at our arms and legs constantly. Claire handled this with her customary laid-back panache but Barney and James saw the 'kisses' as distinctly more threatening. After making a show of getting out, the lads reasserted their masculinity with talk of gunishing the little bastards.

On our second night we settled into possibly the greatest bar in the universe. Owned by an Englishman who insisted that if we came back on his birthday he would take us on a bikeride and show us some dragons, the bar had a lounge area with Thai reclining cushions, and FREE POOL all night. Claire meanwhile mastered the art of Jenga and whooped the asses of a group of Israeli girls sitting nearby.

On our return to Bangkok, we stopped at a converted VW-Camper cum ladyboy cocktail bar on the Khao San Road, where the 'waitresses' served up a series of lurid liquids, and charmed the tourists with their feminine wiles. While chatting to the bar's owner (who also claimed to be the Thai national tennis trainer and had the Wimbledon badge to prove it), we were interrupted by an Israeli couple (my, my they get everywhere these Israelis). He gathered a group of lads together and produced a bag of fried grass-hoppers. The last one to eat one had to buy a round. Claire slyly offered to be official photographer, and so myuggins here ended up scoffing the spicy, and somewhat crispy remains of the insect. The guy's girlfriend insisted they tasted of peanuts, but later admitted she hadn't blinking well tried them. Anyway, she was wrong - they tasted much more like, well, fried grasshoppers. Nice.

Next stop is the former Capital city of Ayuttaya. In the meantime, we have posted a selection of photos in the Gallery section. Check them out, and keep on emailing us!
:: Barney 4:01 PM [+] ::
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Thailand:

Bangkok and Ko Samet

Bangkok is relentlessly hot, sticky and polluted. You don't so much breathe air as inhale liquidised brussel sprouts through a straw. But it's also cool: chick-boys, cheap Chang beer, and a whole load of cheeky chappies selling bargain merchandise along the touristy Kao San Road make for a welcome change from London. Oh, and having absolutely no responsibility to anyone but ourselves is helping the sprouts go down more easily too.

Since being reunited with our baggage (frankly only about 14 seconds after the last diary entry), we have taken it easy, chilling in the hotel pool at the Asia, and tragically sleeping through the (pricey) breakfast buffet on our second day. We then realised the Asia was a rip-off and moved into the Kao San Road area, forgoing air-con comforts for the 'grittier' real-life experience of a fan-only box-room. The experience was made even more authentic by the hordes of English tw*ts outside the window howling 'Don't look back in anger' at 4 in the morning, and countless cockerels who seemed to think that dawn happens at least once every 20 minutes. And that was between tuk-tuk beeps and their screeching 30cc hairdryer engines.

After our sleepless night, we left on a 'luxury B.I.P.' minibus for Samet Island, where we've been hiding out until today. Among its many treasures, this 'paradise' (their words) island offers endless low-budget pirate Hollywood classics (such as 'Not another teen movie' featuring the smashing Molly Ringwald and Mr T as the teens' top-of-screen mentor), malaria-positive mossies, gheckos (Ooh what a feeling... Gheckos dancing on the ceiling). We also hooked up with another Clare and spent a few days frolicking on the beach and being massaged by special Thai ladies with hands that most certainly don't do dishes. The only problem was the sand/corporal orifice interface - the gents are bound to suffer from a condition known as a 'Sandy Baby' ('Oh - Sandy Bay-ee-bee! Can't you see? I'm in misery...'), whereas the ladies suffer from the distinctly uglier female strain, known as the 'Sandy Toksvig'. As to animal infestations, the only time we had any trouble it culminated in a celebrity insect death-match, of which Barney was the sound victor. If you don't believe me, check out the 'Gizards of Moz' in our beach hut, which serve as a permanent warning to other insects with big ideas.

On our return to Bangkok, we decided to stay in the tourist area again, but we've found a place with a pool to ease the pain of all the shopping and eating. On the way to the internet cafe this evening we bumped into possibly the most idiotic human being on the planet. For the sake of authenticity, we'll annotate the conversation. Imagine an overweight, hairy, red bulbous-nosed bloke (no, not Barney, I mean our interlocutor) who comes from Melbourne, with an over-enthusiastic voice which betrayed his naivete (a bit like that bloke from Strictly Ballroom - Al what's his name?):


Oz bloke: Hey! Have you guys been approached by any tuk-tuk drivers offering to take you round the city for a day for 20 Baht? (about 30p)

Claire: Yup - they take you to jewellery shops then rip you off with cheap jewels. It's the biggest scam in the book. Everyone knows about it.

Oz bloke:Yeah, yeah, that's the fella. That's what I thought.

Barney: Why, have you got a tuk-tuk driver waiting for you outside?

Oz bloke:No, no, course not mate. No, it's just that we had one earlier that said Thai people could buy huge sapphires once a year, and sell them abroad for twice the price. They've just opened it to tourists this week.Apparently, we could pay for our holiday with every purchase.

Barney and Claire: Yup. It's a classic scam. Most of the hotels hand you a written warning about it at check-in. You're not thinking of doing it are you?

Oz bloke: (nervous Ozzie chuckle) Well, it seemed too good to be true...

Claire: So, you've done it then..?

Oz bloke: Well, we didn't actually pick up the sapphires. They told us they were too valuable to carry around, so they'd send them direct to Melbourne (knowing wink to Barney).

Barney: So, did you get a government-authorised receipt you can show the police?

Oz bloke: Yeah, yeah.

Oz sheila: Well, no. We saw the receipt, but they put it in the pile with all the rest from other tourists.

Barney: How much did you spend then?

Oz bloke: 5,500.

Barney: What - 5,500 Baht?

Oz sheila: No... dollars.

At this point they were both still smiling and chuckling. Although they were obviously stupid enough to hand all their cash to a complete stranger without a receipt, we managed to resist the temptation to rob them blind, and instead came down here to, well, laugh. Oh and neck a big Chang.

Tomorrow, we're off to Kanchanaburi, the town where they built the legendary bridge over the River Kwai (erm... that's Khwae aksherly). On our return we have a 2-hour window before our 'B.I.P' night-bus to Chiang Mai. I understand the hill tribes in that region survive on three main sources of income: Grain, something else and opium. How utterly scandalous and reprehensible.

:: Barney 1:43 PM [+] ::
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I know you've all gnawed your fingers to the bone with worry by now, but I'm afraid I have to reveal that none of your plans to saw through the plane's brake cables have come to anything. Yep - we're in Bangkok. We're currently luxuriating in the faux charm of the Asia hotel-cum-accomoplexatron, although our luggage wasn't quite so lucky. Following a late arrival in Singapore at God knows what time this morning, we had only 15 minutes to transfer to the Bangkok flight, and the luggage handlers didn't quite share our urgency. Nevertheless, we have been assured that our bags will be at the hotel by 5.30pm... which is slightly worrying as it's 7pm already.

As my head is about to explode from not sleeping for 36 hours, I'll sign off for now. The Pruszynska has just turned up, and appears to be pant-wettingly excited about the prospect of a Thai massage and a quick flight to Oz to see her simeon boyfriend. Best go and get us a beer really. TTFN Barney and Claire.
:: Barney 12:02 PM [+] ::
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