Salim Does The Orient: Thailand Again!!!

We left for Thailand on a Friday night and arrived on a Saturday morning with a few hours' layover in Singapore. Of course I didn't sleep at all, so by the time we got to Koh Samui, I was beginning to get delerious. Unbeknownst to us until we got there, it was the 60^th anniversary of the coronation of the King of Thailand. There were yellow decorations everywhere (yellow being the royal color) and banners and posters and everywhere you looked, the royal seal was stamped on everything from busses to restaurant windows.

The first three nights we stayed at a hotel called the Baan Hin Sai which was a group of bungalows nestled into the forest on the side of a steep hill over the ocean. This setup produced some very beautiful scenery as you looked out through the trees onto the pristine Gulf of Thailand. At night dozens of fishing boats would creep out onto the water only visible by their lights. On a starry night you couldn’t quite tell where the sea ended and the sky began. But this arrangement hit one major snag that we discovered the first time we left our cottage to head to the road to catch a taxi: The only way to the road was a beautifully lit, winding little path that led straight up the cliff-like hill. It’s hard enough not to sweat in Thailand, and scrambling up the sheer face of this cliff every time you want to go anywhere, was just too much. Even the swimming pool was at the top of the cliff. At first we thought of the “private beach” described in the hotel’s literature and how if the beach was nice enough, we could just live off of room service at night and hang out on the beach all day. But the second day, when we decided to go check out the water, we were sorely disappointed. Instead of a beach we found a small cove of rocks that plunged sharply into very deep water. As pretty as it was to look at there was no place to lay down a towel to lie on. Then as we stood there contemplating the situation Heather let out a curse as she was bitten by an ENOURMOUS ant with a mean looking head. We left the next day.

I called a place called the Imperial Samui Hotel which was just a few minutes down the road. They had a vacancy so we were off. Upon our arrival, the very baffled desk staff told us that there were no vacancies. I told them that I had just spoken with someone not fifteen minutes earlier who had reserved us a room. After a few minutes of “No you didn’t”... “Yes I did” one of the staff asked what number I’d called. I reached into my bag and pulled out the guide book, determined to show this woman her mistake. If any of you use the Lonley Planet Guide to Thailand and find yourself looking for a place to stay in Koh Samui, please take note that there are the Imperial Samui Hotel, and the Imperial Boat House Hotel, both on opposite sides of the island, neither affiliated with the other and these two numbers are mixed up in the book.

Our second resort was the Fair House Beach Resort, another few minutes down the road. They had a vacancy and were quite affordable. It was a huge place with a little par three golf course, two main buildings, and lots of bungalows situated right on top of each other. We had a very clean, though somewhat bland room in one of the main buildings that overlooked one of the pools. It was a short walk down to an actual beach with sand and everything. From our new home base we rented scooters and scooted all over the island.

On the main drag is a big Brazilian restaurant called Zico’s. They have scantly clad Brazilian broads that come out and samba every half hour or so. But more importantly they have all you can eat meat. The tiny waitresses walk around the restaurant with various meats and fishes skewered onto huge swords. It was great!

My drink has sparklers in it! I tried to drink all the drinks in the 'Specialty Cocktails' section of the menu. I only made it through 5.

It rained a lot while we were on the island but the rain never lasted for too long, so we managed to get out a lot in spite of it.

One day we went to ride elephants and see the “monkey show”. They have all day treks on elephants through the jungle, but we arrived too late for that so we opted for the 45 minute trek. It was less of a trek and more a slow walk up and impossibly steep hillside. When I saw the path we were taking, I thought there was no way the elephant could make it up something that steep. But they are surprisingly surefooted. She just slowly plodded up the trail switchbacking and stopping every few minutes to rip a branch out of a tree or find some fallen fruit to snack on. When she or the other elephants would pick up a group of pineapple leaves or a palm branch with their trunks they would smash it incredibly hard against their legs a few times as though flagellating before stuffing it into their mouths and munching it down. I guess it was to get the dirt off or help pulverize it a little before they ate it.

It was just Heather and I and a mahout on one elephant slowly climbing the hill. Every time the elephant would fart (which was often) the mahout would scowl at one of us and say “I think that was you.” Then he’d giggle so hard I thought he’d fall off.

No one else was on the path, which was nice because we could take our time. When we reached the top we came to a clearing and you could see for miles up the coastline and out to sea to the north. It was gorgeous, and on top of the slowly swaying elephant it was incredibly peaceful. The mahout scrambled to the ground and took a picture of us at the top of the hill. Then before we started to lumber back down, he stopped the elephant under a tree, pointed up and said quite casually, “Mengmoon.” I figured it was a type of fruit, but when I looked up I almost shat myself as I discovered a mengmoon is an absolutely gigantic spider about the size of a fucking dinner plate. It was about six feet above us and seemed content sitting on its huge web, but I kept a wary eye on it as we moved away, just in case it decided to drop down and suck out my eyeball juice or something.

Upon our return to the zoo/village, we were told it was time for the shows. The elephant show was a mildly entertaining 10 minutes of tricks performed by a four year old elephant named Murray. Murray did a handstand and played a harmonica and so on. The highlight was when Murray gave me a massage by stamping on my back with one of his front feet while giving me kisses on my head and face with his trunk. For those of you who don’t know, elephant kisses are very wet.

Then came the monkey show which was thoroughly disappointing. I guess I had expected more from primates. A soft shoe number… Maybe some show tunes. A rather angry looking monkey named Mikey demonstrated how the coconut farmers train monkeys to climb palm trees and spin the coconuts until their stem breaks and they fall out of the tree. Then Mikey came out of the tree and we had a chance to take a picture with him. We were told to only hold his hand and to “Please do nothing else.” As heather and I held Mikeys hand in turn, he did not seem amused or confused. He looked like he knew exactly what was happening and had the trainer not been bribing him with snacks, he would have eaten our faces right off our heads.

Later that day, after stopping for lunch, we got on our scooters to find that mine had a flat tire. We were, of course, miles from the nearest gas station. So I found a place for Heather to sit and have tea while I took the good scooter to find the closest gas station or guy with a pickup truck who can haul the scooter with the flat. And about a mile and a half later, I found a place.

It's off on some random road and the sign outside says "Motorbike repair". So I pull over and no one speaks even one word of English, and I cannot make any of them understand that the scooter I'm riding is fine, but there is another one a mile away that has a flat.

Finally one of the mechanics tells me to wait and runs into a shop next door. He emerges a minute later with another guy, who speaks some English. He's not what you would call 'fluent' but he understands what's wrong. So he tells me I'd better hurry because the shop is closing soon. But when I tell him I'll have to walk the scooter because the tire is completely flat, he tells me I won't make it in time. We both ponder silently for a minute, staring alternately at each other and the ground while the three mechanics stand by nervously waiting. Then, suddenly he yells something at one of the teenagers in greasy coveralls and the kid runs over and jumps onto my scooter. The man tells me "You take him with you. He drive you scooter back here. He not heavy like you." If you have any issues with self confidence, Thailand is not the place for you. Everyone (and I mean everyone) likes to point out how big you are at any given opportunity. Luckily I don’t give two shits. I'm too happy to have found the place to be insulted. I drive the kid to the scooter with the flat and he starts driving it at breakneck speed back to the shop. He's like 50 pounds with his boots on, so riding a scooter with a flat is no problem for him.

So when we get back, the guy says he'll have to replace the inner-tube and it'll take a half an hour. What to do? The place next door I mentioned earlier is a gaming shop. I ask him how much to use the internet and he says it’ll cost the equivalent of about $1 an hour. So there I sit, surrounded by little Thai kids playing really, really loud video games online checking my email. But at least I got the tire fixed.

Oh. And the mechanic's little dog took a piss inside one of my shoes which I had left outside when I went in to use the computer. Putting on a wet shoe is always a little gross, but when you know the reason it’s wet is dog piss, it takes gross to a whole new level.

Good times.

The next day, Heather went to get treatments at a spa, and I went to a gun range for a little relaxation of my own. It was AWESOME! I started out with a .45 caliber Glock, then moved on to a .38 revolver of some sort. Then I fired a silly version of an AK47 that chambered these tiny little .22 rounds. That kinda sucked so I didn’t fire that one again. But after that came the highlight for me. Who knew a 12 gauge pump shotgun could be so much fucking fun? I need to buy one of my own. If I hadn’t run out of cash, I’d still be there right now.

Twelve gauge shotty, bitches! I got your enlightenment RIGHT HERE!!!

I was the only person on the range, so the little lady who worked there was nice enough to use my camera to take a couple videos of me shooting. I look like I’m concentrating, but I’m really jumping for joy on the inside.

I'm aiming with my third eye.

Then I shot the .45 some more, and then back to the shotgun again. It went on and on and on… And I smiled and smiled and smiled…

Our next stop was Bangkok. The last time I was there was without Heather, so this time it was nice to have her with me. Our first day there was a Saturday, so we took the sky train to the Chatuchak Weekend Market. It was just as hot and just as crowded as the last time I had gone, and it quickly got the better of Heather. I shouldn’t say “quickly” since I really have no concept of time when I’m shopping. I’m like a machine in places like that, mentally marking down items and their prices and then comparing with the next vendor who’s selling the same stuff. I can keep that sort of thing up until I’m absolutely sure I’m getting exactly what I want at the best price, and this whole process usually takes hours if not days. So Heather’s need for rest and food was probably perfectly justified. Our shopping day ended early when I either lost my wallet or I was pick-pocketed. So we headed back to the hotel where I sulked and fretted about my wallet for the rest of the day.

The next day we went on a whirlwind temple tour. Our plan was to visit the Grand Palace and then just see where the rest of the day led us from there. As we arrived at the Grand Palace a man in a civil service uniform came running up to us and told us they were closed until 2pm. He was a very excitable middle aged guy whose English was pretty good, and who turned out to be one of the managers of the staff of the Palace. It was about noon and he said we should come back in two hours. He showed us on a map of the city a few other temples we could visit in the meantime. Then he flagged down a tuk tuk and told the driver that we were to go to these temples and he even told the guy how much to charge us, which turned out to be the equivalent of about $2 U.S.

We saw the Standing Buddha at one temple. It was a towering golden statue that stood outside and towered over the temple. Inside the temple as we stood gazing at the intricate murals a man approached us intent on having a conversation. I think he was looking for an excuse to practice his English, but whatever the reason he just kept talking and asking questions and in the heat and humidity it seemed like forever. He told us stories about his wife and kids. He told us about the time he had spent in the States. He worked for a local newspaper( I think he said he was a writer). Then, when he could see us getting antsy he bid us farewell and we were on our way to another temple.

The next temple featured a huge collection of different Buddha statues from all over Asia, each from different eras in history.

There was a dog sleeping in the temple near some of the statues, but he didn’t like me trying to take his picture and got up with a heavy sigh and shuffled off to a more secluded spot. But not far away was a cat and he seemed perfectly fine with me getting close to him for a few pictures.

Then we stopped at a wholesale jewelry factory outlet, and Heather got a gorgeous ring for about a third of what she would have paid in the U.S. Much to the chagrin of the salespeople it was a rather small ring. They kept showing us huge and expensive stuff, and we would have to politely remind them that we were not millionaires. The manager of the outlet was a soft spoken and friendly man who had lived in San Francisco for about 14 years. We chatted with him for a while and Heather tried on just about every piece of jewelry in the place. At one point she had on a FIFTEEN karat ruby ring!!! It was ridiculous. It was so big it looked as though they must have stolen it from Liberace’s grave. Then we went to another temple, and then back to the Grand Palace.

The Palace is simply enormous. Acres of land containing gardens, parade grounds, a royal palace, and several huge temples. Almost every inch of the place was swarming with tourists from China. Every few minutes another tour bus would pull up at the gate and spew out a swarm of frantic and overdressed little people. They would scurry around, screaming to each other and taking pictures of everything in sight. It was less annoying than it sounds and was actually very entertaining.

Some people prayed. Others just took photos.

The main temple at the Palace was a huge affair with intricate carvings along the outside and a cavernous main prayer-hall with many different sized statues of Buddha clustered at the far end from the doors. This was the only temple we saw where photography was forbidden inside the hall so I took a shot from the outside looking in one of the doors.

Three young monks walking through a courtyard at the Palace.

The Palace building is guarded by motionless guards in pristine white uniforms, each armed with an M-16, which was good because none of them was taller than four and a half feet, so without the assault rifles they couldn’t have stopped anyone from going inside. The tourists, of course all took turns standing next to them and snapping photos as though it was Buckingham Palace. But unlike the guys in England with the big furry hats these guards seemed not quite sure what to do about this, and though they didn’t move, they side eyed the people standing near them nervously. So of course I went and stood next to one. I had to fight the urge to throw an arm around him or make bunny ears behind his helmet.

Heather left the next day and the plan was for me to take a train up north to Chiang Mai. But I found out that the rains had washed out some sections of tracks along the route I was to take. Since the only other affordable option was to take an overnight bus, I decided I’d just stay in Bangkok. And I’m glad I did. I got to go on a short boat tour along some of the canals of Bangkok. The city is bisected by the Chao Praya River and in the old days before cars, the only way to get around was a network of canals all converging on the river. King Rama V filled in a lot of the canals back around the turn of the century as he began to modernize Thailand with things like the automobile. But many of the canals are still around, and boats are still the main means of transportation for some neighborhoods.

My boat was a slow long boat and I was the only passenger. Many of the other boats were the high-bowed longboats with shallow hulls and outboard motors like you see in the movies. I soon realized how fortunate I was as I saw that these other boats just flew up the canals and my driver seemed to be in no great hurry. I got to see a lot more that way. We slowly chugged our way up the river that was swollen and murky from the monssons. Along the canals you can see life as it used to be in Bangkok. Corrugated tin houses on wooden piers, one end facing the street and the other slowly being consumed by the clay colored water. It was a nice leisurely afternoon.

I bought some snacks from a lady in a boat as well as some beers for the driver of my boat.

We made a long stop at a snake and alligator farm to see a show. I didn’t see any alligators, but there was a mildly entertaining snake show involving cobras and three or four other snakes. But the best part was a baby gibbon named Junior. I got to hold him and had my picture taken with him. He was tiny, about the size of my forearm, and he had arms about twice the length of his body which he used to cling desperately to me. He didn’t like not being held and so if I didn’t hug him tight he would make these pitiful little whimpering and crying sounds that broke your heart because they were almost human. I love monkeys!

I just realized that this post is getting ridiculously long so in the spirit of brevity I’ll just sum up the rest of my trip with pictures and as few words as possible.

One night after I had been to the fights and drank way too much beer I decided to take a motorcycle taxi back to the hotel. We almost died several times and everytime another motorcycle taxi would pull up next to us, they'd look at my gigantic ass on the back of the tiny motorbike and laugh hysterically.