Bangkok: Wednesday, February 7

Our huge bed!

Arrived at the hotel at 2:00 a.m., weary, eyes red and crusty and I didn't have enough deodorant on to maintain my ladylike demeanor on the drive from the airport to the hotel.

We dropped into an exhausted sleep which didn't last nearly long enough.

The dining room has a curved glass wall hugging us and overlooking the pool. Soft music was playing interspersed with snippets of Thai conversation. They were probably just discussing the food, but it all sounded urgent and exotic. And oddly loud. I watched the other diners' faces to see who was speaking and it was a man at the far end, 4 tables away. The curved glass was capturing his voice and delivered it right to our table.

We ate Thai food. Western food was also available but who would choose cornflakes over yummy local veggies and noodles. Not what we're used to in Canada but it was great!

Miscellaneous observations:


  • It's 33 degrees and humid. The good news is that the humidity frees your clothes from wrinkles
  • the elevator is padded with panels of rich, claret silk
  • there are Buddhist shrines everywhere, gaily festooned with fresh and plastic flower garlands left as offerings from hopeful supplicants

94% of the country is Buddhist.


  • People greet you with hands meeting prayer fashion, slightly bowing their head.

  • The statue of Ronald MacDonald stands with head bowed and hands clasped in prayer.

  • They have scooter taxis. Drivers wear orange vests and deliver their fares around town for coins

  • A small 500 ml bottle of water costs 7 baht. 30 baht = $1. You do the math.

  • The air by the swimming pools smells spicy, like sandalwood.


Nothing says "Welcome to Asia" more than sewer gas. I'd forgotten this common trait that assaults your nose at all open sidewalk grates in Korea and China, and now also Bangkok.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Summer Palace

Image
Wow. Our days are full of strange sights and long hours. In the bus every morning at 7:00, and never home before 5:00. The summer palace was built by Rama V to commemorate the village where he met his wife. How romantic is that! Lo hiding between the antlers The gardens are gorgeous, with topiary herds of elephants, deer and rabbits. Sounds of peacocks echo through the gardens but they remained frustratingly elusive. Their cries were augmented by the screech of other unseen birds in faraway branches. But we did see an amazing variety of bougainvillea in all colours. Hans standing by the elephant's trunk. From the walls in the Reception Hall, yellowing faded faces of Ramas I to IX gazed out from acestral photos. Each Rama is believed to be an incarnation of Vishnu. Other rooms held lacquered furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl and stunning teak carvings. As with all Buddhist buildings, we have to remove our shoes and in some cases, we were asked the night before to dress respectfu
Read more

The trouble with winter is…

The trouble with winters here is that they can be incredibly brutal. This is especially true when your driveway is 400' long, oriented east-west, and invitingly open to the howling north wind. Last night the afore-mentioned wind was an unwelcome escort on my drive home late in the evening. All the way home I contemplated whether or not I should risk driving my car down the driveway and into the garage, where it might get trapped overnight. I decided not to risk it. From the head of the driveway I phoned Hans to say I was leaving the car on the road, loaded up my stuff, wound my scarf around my head to ward off the wind, and opened the door. Like a spinnaker, it caught the wind and creaked alarmingly before I wrestled it closed again. I proceeded more cautiously. The driveway was already starting to bulk up with mogul-like drifts and Hans had opened the gate for me – a precaution when drifts in the drive are a possibility. After a soak in the hot tub to fight the chill,
Read more

"The Party"

If you've seen the movie "The Party" with Peter Sellers, you'll be able to visualize the scene at dinner this evening. We had Rock Cornish Game Hens. Just as I was critizing someone else for their bad table manners, my cornish hen flew off my plate and skittered across the table. Bits of chicken went flying in all directions. "You have a piece of chicken hanging from your eyebrow", said Teddy, nodding at Hans. "He's just keeping an eye on it", said Vern.
Read more