8th December 2009 Bangkok

‘Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Lover of the Russian Queen! Ra-Ra Rasputin! Russia’s greatest love machine!’

They just don’t write them like that any more – thank God! Life just can’t get any more bizarre. I am on a cruise boat on the main river in central Bangkok. The buffet has been disappointing. I think they have toned down the ‘Thai’ flavour of the food for the tourists, so I feel a little cheated. There is a live band who have played throughout our meanderings up and down the river. They have given us fine renditions of ‘White Christmas’ (in Thailand?) and ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas ( it’s a Buddhist country) , when they launch into a medley of the Carpenter’s hits, followed by ‘By The Rivers of Babylon’. I find myself saying out loud ‘It’ll be Ra-Ra-Rasputin next’, and almost before the words have left my lips…..I did say it could not get more bizarre but they top this with ‘Delilah’! And to really make my evening complete I buy the crap photo I had been conned into as we got on the boat. Tourists! Who’d be one?

I think I remembered I was in Bangkok when I woke this morning. My phone was buzzing as a message had been left by the tour company checking I was still alive and asking me if I wanted to buy any of their tour packages. I have one of those half-awake conversations with Ms Mam, and I think I agree to smuggle three kilos of heroin into Singapore. Either that or I sign up for the evening boat tour. Get done either way I think. I am suffering excessive tiredness after arriving in Bangkok 14 hours after leaving Christchurch –was I ever there I feel! I had whittled away the morning with breakfast and another laze by the River Avon but had resisted a pint in the Bard of Avon pub by the punt bridge. I had picked up the paper where I had breakfast and had been amused by the story of someone wanting to start some fairly intensive dairy farming in the region where I had been gliding. The plan is to keep the cows indoors for eight months of the year. An opponent had done some maths on cow poo, and worked out that they produce five times as much faeces as a human, so having this many cattle in one place would be akin to getting together 250,000 people and asking them to ‘crap in the outdoors’. I just love the directness of NZ and Aussie statements – this was published as written in the paper. I also received a shock given what has been said about the good citizens of Christchurch and their tardiness at accepting cultural change. Imagine my surprise when in a Pharmacists I overhear an elderly foursome talking and one of the women says to one of the men ‘Have you still got your Bitch?’ I know there is a prevalence for LA street talk amongst the young but surely not the over 60s. I just had to listen to the reply. Sadly it did not begin ‘Yo ass mother!’ but instead explained that they had had to sell it as they did not use it much. Then I remembered. Of course. Kiwis call their holiday cottages a ‘bach’ (pronounced ‘batch’ or ‘bitch’). It’s the sort of mistake could get you into serious trouble. On the plane I had sat next to an Aussie going to do some work in Bangkok. He had not been there for over thirty years since he had been in the navy. He had only ever been to the UK for a couple of days in 1966, but he said he had heard that a lot of cities and other places in the UK had been named after places in Australia. I liked him!

What a shock to the system in more ways than one. Bangkok – city of 10 million people, 3 million cars, and goodness knows how many motorbikes (ignoring the ‘tuc-tucs’), and they are all on the road at the same time! I have been on a tour to the Grand Palace and left the hotel at 1pm. I returned just short of five hours later and I estimate that half of that time has been spent in Bangkok traffic jams! They are unbelievable! But credit to the ‘karma’ of the Thai people because they just don’t seem to let it get to them. I heard a handful of horns and saw very little ‘road hog’ type of activity. The one incident of ‘almost road rage’ petered out in a plethora of head bows and apologies. The motor cycle riders all wear the regulation head protection but there it stops because they weave in and out of the traffic at will, and this seems to be accepted by the car, bus and ‘tuc-tuc’ drivers. They carry passengers – the most I saw was three – and goods and chattels. I saw piles of boxes precariously balanced, rolls of carpets, bunches of flowers. They head off the main thoroughfares to little side streets and then appear as if by magic further ahead of the static traffic. Head-shaking! It even made London traffic look quick! But when the traffic jam loosens up – beware – do not be in the way! The ‘tuc-tucs’ are named after the sound they make as they are motorised rickshaws. They have no meters so price depends on how much you are willing to pay or how much they can ‘con’ out of you!

The Grand Palace was built by the direct ancestor of the present King Rama IX, who happened to be King Rama I. theme developing here I think. On a whim he shifted the capital of the country from one side of the main river of Bangkok, the Chao Phraya river, to the other, and ordered the building of a new palace in 1782. Since then the palace has grown under each successive King Rama, except the present one who only lived in it for a year then decided to build himself a more modern palace, and much bigger one elsewhere in the city. The palace grounds contain residences and government buildings and the Royal Monastery to the Emerald Buddha. The buildings are something to be seen, elaborately decorated with gold leaf, pieces of glass which reflect the sun and in places precious stones. The temple to the Emerald Buddha is very elaborately decorated, and the Buddha statue itself wears golden clothing which is changed three times a year to correspond with the three Thai seasons – Spring, Wet, Winter. At the moment it is winter gear – but it was very hot today! One problem is that it is not emerald at all – it is jade – but no one seems too fussed about that little point. It is one of Thailand’s most sacred religious icons and when I was in it there were Buddhist monks praying and lots of the visitors too. It reminded me of the Greek Orthodox church in Rhodes – both very elaborately decorated. Christian churches are generally simpler but I have yet to visit the Vatican!

Now to the King. Thailand was an absolute monarchy until 72 years ago when the present King’s uncle changed to what the Thais call a ‘contributory monarchy’. Quite what the difference is between this and our ‘constitutional monarchy’ I am yet to discover. It has been the present King’s birthday this week and the city is teeming with royal fans from all over the land celebrating in a week long party of noise, colour, music and fireworks. They identify themselves as royal supporters by wearing pink shirts. There were thousands of these pink shirts in evidence today as we toured the city. Pictures and posters and shrines to the King are everywhere. They certainly revere him. I now know what King Rama IX looks like – or rather I know what he looked like when he was about 55, because he is an 82 year old invalid now and the poster pictures do not look like that. Still, Thailand is not the first and won’t be the last to stylise pictures of its royal dynasty. From what our guide said today there’s going to be one hell of a party when he turns his toes up starting with a 100 day lying in state in one of the palace buildings we visited today. We also saw the Royal Coronation room with its golden throne.
Bizarre thing number whatever is the conversation with the guide on our tour. He was the one who brought up Taksin Shinawatra, the ex Prime Minister of Thailand and the ex-owner of Manchester City FC. He was clearly a supporter as he said the case against Dr Frank (as the city fans called him – Frank Shinawatra – geddit?) was not proven and was created by the opposition and besides what harm is there in him allowing his wife to buy some Government land cheaply? How public spirited of him. He said Dr Frank, now in exile in Dubai, was still very popular amongst voters. Watch this space.

Wednesday 9th December The Bridge Over the River Kwai

‘Forgive but not forget’ is the message on the sign above the entrance to the JEATH ( stands for Japan, England, Australia, Thailand, Holland) museum in Konchanaburi, Thailand below which is the warning given by the Japanese commander in charge of the work on this area’s section of the infamous Burma Railway – the Railway of Death – which included the Bridge Over the River Kwai:

‘If you work hard you will be treated well but if you do not you will be punished’.

When the Japanese suffered a major naval defeat against the Americans at Midway they need to build a supply line through Thailand (then Siam) and Burma. Ironically the British were the first to think of this earlier in the century and to survey the route but they abandoned the idea as not feasible. Double irony that so many British servicemen lost their lives in the Japanese enterprise. Some 30,000 British, 18000 Dutch, 13,000 Aussies and 700 American prisoners of war, and around 200,000 forced labourers from China, Thailand, Burma, Malaya and Singapore were drafted in to build the railway that no-one thought could be built, and which the Japanese were determined would be built in half the time their own engineers expected. The railway was completed in 18 months at the cost of 13,000 Allied dead, and some 70,000 Asian dead. The museum, which was established by the abbot of the nearby monastery of Wat Chaichumpol, tries to show the conditions under which the prisoners were kept, and the privations and cruelty to which they were subjected. Many of the artefacts are evidence from the prisoners themselves in the form of drawings or photographs or first-hand accounts. You cannot help but be moved and angered at the inhumane treatment they received at the hands of the Japanese and their Korean allies, as many of the camp guards were Korean. From fit prisoners they were systematically driven to their deaths in many cases by brutality, starvation and the jungle diseases of dysentery, malaria and cholera. Anyone who tried to escape was mercilessly executed; men were bayoneted for theft; barbaric punishments were common. The Japanese paid no heed to the Geneva Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war.

‘Forgive but not forget’

The war graves cemetery at Kanchanaburi, which at the time of the building of the railway in 1942/3 was a gathering and transit camp for the other work camps further up the line, contains the remains of 5,000 Commonwealth and 1600 Dutch servicemen who lost their lives. And is the biggest of the three cemeteries in the area. Most of the men who died were in their twenties, and those that were older tended to be officers. Each grave is named and dated and in most cases the regimental crest is attached. A few have got family messages on them. Some are not identified. Each one of them not just a victim of the brutality of war but particular victims of a particular type of brutality that those subjected to it found very hard to forget and even harder to forgive. There is a quote from an Australian survivor who went on to become a Head Teacher in Canberra after the war. When he returned some years later to visit the area he was struck by the silence in the area in which he had worked and memories of what he called the ‘sadistic Japanese engineers and Korean guards’ came flooding back to the point where he ‘experienced a deep hatred and revulsion for the Japanese and their Korean counterparts’.

‘Forgive but not forget’

And what of the forced Asian labourers, some of whom ‘volunteered’ to work on the railway for a few months and were never let go home, or those that went to ‘free’ cinema shows advertised by the Japanese and then found the doors locked and themselves forced at gunpoint into lorries and spirited away. Their lives were of no less value but they died in their droves. I don’t know if there is a memorial to them.

‘Forgive but not forget’

And what of the Japanese, who had the temerity to build a memorial to those who had given their lives to the project so in some twisted and bizarre way to comfort their souls and their spirits. Built in 1944 it stands somewhere near Kanchanaburi, and is said to contain remains of labourers. It is not on the tourist track. Where are the Japanese signatures in the book that has comments from those who visited the war graves?

You can stand on one of the two bridges that were built to cross the River Kwai at an important railway and river junction two hour’s drive north-west of Bangkok. This is the metal and stone bridge that was built at the same time as a wooden bridge a little further downstream. The wooden bridge has not survived and there is little evidence it was ever there. The single track metal bridge was brought on barges from Java pre-built to be assembled on site. The bridge has become a symbol of the project even though it was not the only bridge on the line and was not the most difficult and dangerous part of the project. The Allies tried repeatedly to bomb all bridges on the line and hit the Kwai one successfully. The River Kwai area was one of many along the line that stretched for 415kms, but it is the most famous because of the book and subsequent movie. As I walked across the bridge which is at the edge of a vast tourist complex that contains shops, restaurants etc, I was behind a group of French tourists who once they stepped on the bridge started whistling ‘Colonel Bogie’ – very bizarre. Even more bizarre was a Thai violinist ‘busking’ half-way across the bridge who commenced playing ‘Colonel Bogie’ as soon as I got level with him. What those who built this thing and saw comrades lose their lives in doing so would make of this I don’t know. It isn’t a war grave – the atmosphere was completely different there – it is actually a working bridge and you have to stand to one side to let the ( very slow) train pass, but I suppose some of the visitors might get a sense of achievement and sacrifice from the experience. No sign of Alec Guinness though! Whilst I was there I just took some time to sit on the river bank just beyond all the tourist hubbub and ponder it all for a while.

In the morning we had set off from Bangkok at 7am as we had some serious driving to do. Our first destination was the famous floating market at Damnern Saduak 110kms south of Bangkok. We witnessed Bangkok waking up and travelling to work or school. The roadside stalls and shops were already opened – perhaps they never shut! – but the transport system has to be seen to be believed. Lorries, busses, vans, pickup trucks, bicycles, motorbikes, ‘tuc’tucs’…in fact anything people can get into or hold in to or get on top of is used for transport. Alf n Safety! Who’s he? And it gets worse the further you get from the city. Families on motorbikes – dad with his helmet on, and mum on the pillion with toddler standing between them with hands on dad’s shoulders …on the motorway! Eventually you just say ‘there’s another one’. We soon leave the built up areas and hit countryside and the salt and sugar and rice fields. We call at a shop that specialises in coconut products and orchids – not as silly a combination as you might think as the coconut shells are used to grow the orchids in! There is a café of sorts but it is aimed at the locals. They are serving Thai breakfast –lovely hot chicken curry – and I get the guide to help me order some. It is gorgeous compared with last night’s fare. I gobble it up and end up a little ‘sharp’ around the lips because of the spices but that soon goes. We stop next at a riverside depot for long-tail speedboats, which featured in one of the James Bond movies – Roger Moore in ‘The Man with the Golden Gun’! These are to whisk us along the rivers and canals to the floating market. Off we zoom with me in the front –wet again!

The floating market must have started as a way of locals selling their produce but has now turned into a major tourist attraction. That said it is still fabulous. The market fills a series of linked canals which are awash with small craft peddling all sorts of goods and spills over onto the banks where there are more traditional market stalls. You name it you can buy it. One of our party was after silk shirts -,and got them. We transfer on to a row boat which will take us down the centre of the market. You end up surrounded by boats selling wares. I spotted a butcher, some green grocers, a fruiterers, people selling drinks, souvenirs, hats, shoes, clothes. As you are rowed by, a stall holder will produce a hook and pull you across so he or she can show you what they are selling. It is great fun. I bought a mortar and pestle set and did a bit of tourist style ‘haggling’. Now we have to know the rules for this. The price they ask is always vastly overinflated so there is no guilt in ‘beating’ them down – except you are not really beating them down because they know roughly what price they can sell for and still make a handsome profit so it is all a bit of a game. The set was offered to me at 600baht – about £15. I said 300, he said 400, I repeated 300 and he said deal! Easy as that- except he would have bought it for less than 100baht, but we were all happy. I didn’t haggle for the mango pieces I bought for 40baht – they were gorgeous. The place was heaving. Tourists everywhere. Boats, sides, bridges. The food boats and stalls looked very attractive but hygiene is not uppermost so I avoided these. The usual rule is you only buy stuff that is boiling! I did see flies on the meat and dried fish! Colour, atmosphere, energy – and they really did try to sell me postcards!

Thursday 10th December Bangkok

To the barricades! Or rather to the Pai Bai School of Thai Cookery for a morning’s cookery course. In the mini-bus that picked me up from the hotel was Adam, an American chef! How intimidating Can that be? Here’s me thinking that I am on the Thai equivalent of ‘Ready Steady Cook’ but I am sitting next to Gordon Ramsay! Adam was very nice. He worked for a yacht owner in the Mediterranean for sxi months of the year and for the rest was paid to travel and pick up cooking tips. Nice life. Hey? When we arrived at the cookery school we were joined by eight other ‘students’ only one of which was a professional chef. He and Adam sat exchanging cooking tips during the breaks. Our hostess was Miki, and our demonstration chef was Wat ( Thai for ‘monastery), a student at the school. We learned and cooked ( and ate) four dishes in three hours. It was great fun. Most of the ingredients were pre-prepared for us which saved a lot of time, and apart from putting too many chillis in my Hot Prawn Soup I did very well. For some reason Miki thought I spoke very ‘posh’ English and kept imitating my accent then apologising profusely! We soon got into the swing. Miki or Wat would say ‘What tine is it?’ and we would chorus ‘Tasting time!’ or ‘Cooking time’ or ‘Eating time’! At the end I bought one of the cooking knives I had used in the class , and asked for one of my fingers back. They very kindly wrapped it in an ice pack so that I could it have it sewn back on in the UK.
Adam had signed up for every class that week so we left him waiting for the afternoon group to arrive and headed back into the bustle of the city. I arrived back at my hotel just in time – traffic again – to be picked up for my afternoon sojourn on the river. I had signed up for a trip to the old ‘capital’ ( see above) abandoned by King Rama I – a place called Thonburi. It was only down and across the river so was an easy ride. I was with an Australian lady and her teenage daughter. Despite my efforts to be sociable the woman treated me like a potential predator, so in the end I gave up. We travelled the first part if of the journey by ‘James Bond’ boat as our guide proudly informed us. The canals are directly off the river opposite the Royal Palace, and for the most part are where the less well-off Thai people live in the city. I saw three youths fishing off a pier and one was wearing the latest City shirt! I shouted and pointed at his shirt. He responded with a huge grin and pointed proudly at the crest! Bizarre! People waved at us as we sailed by their lives. Back on the main river we transferred to a ‘rice’ barge for the return trip – very, very, very slowly. We were given a fruit buffet and as my companions were still playing dumb, I got a Singah beer and sat in the prow with the sun shining down on me and just relaxed into the journey.

The return to the hotel left me with about four hours to kill before I was picked up for the airport run. I decided to take a trip to China Town. Bangkok’s Chinese community is huge, and so is China Town . I decided to take a ‘tuc-tuc’ and negotiated a price of 100 baht – I had checked with hotel staff about this. I told the driver to take me down the main street of China Town and my intention was to walk back up it and explore. He could not understand why I wanted to do this and kept trying to persuade me to let him take me to ‘really good Thai massage’ and such related places! When eventually he realised that ‘no’ meant ‘no’ he settled into pointing out restaurants that sold sharks fin and birds nest soup. I enjoyed the walk which also took me off the main road into the bustling side streets. The place has to be seen to be believed. So much activity, so much on sale. Hardly a space to walk on the pavements. Food stalls selling everything imaginable, lottery ticket sellers – people eking out a living by any means. Isaw many ‘doubles’ – Sean Connery sitting on a chair smoking, Russ Abbot sweeping the street, Dev Alahan with a shirt stall. Lots of dogs, mostly asleep on the pavement so you can fall over them. I fancied the ones next to the food stalls were reserve supplies but perhaps that’s only in Korea! If they were they were very relaxed about it. I went so far down one side street that I felt a little claustrophobic and slightly intimidated by the unfamiliarity of everything. I took a ‘tuc-tuc’ back to the hotel and called it a day on my Bangkok experience.

Captain’s Log. Stardate - Friday 11th December Home!

If Dr Frank doesn’t mind me quoting him…..

‘It’s very nice to go travelling, to London ,Paris and Rome….but it’s so much nicer to come home’

I was about ready. I had been away just short of two months and it had gone very quickly. I was now looking forward to being back with the ones I love. Christmas loomed but in a very inviting and comforting way. However I still had a long flight to face .. but there was a twist in the tale. Being my first time this far from home and on this side of the world, I had got my time zones a bit twisted and everyone was expecting me back on Saturday 12th whereas I actually arrived on Friday 11th! So 12 hours, three movies, two meals, and some sleep later I emerged a day early into the cold fog of a London December morning, blinking not with the brightness but with the realisation that it was Winter and cold. Christmas Day would be cold and not 35 degrees as it would be in Darwin or 27 degrees as in Sydney. It might even snow the radio said! Lovely!

And reflections on my trip? Difficult to add to what has already been said. Glad I went? Yes! Go again? Yes! When? Already planning!

And to end? A final tribute to where I started in Oz. ‘Tie me kangaroo down, sport!’

There's an old Australian stockman, lying, dying,
and he gets himself up on one elbow,
and he turns to his mates,
who are gathered 'round him and he says:
Watch me wallabys feed mate.
Watch me wallabys feed.
They're a dangerous breed mate.
So watch me wallabys feed.
Altogether now!
Tie me kangaroo down sport,
tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down sport,
tie me kangaroo down.
Keep me cockatoo cool, Curl,
keep me cockatoo cool.
Don't go acting the fool, Curl,
just keep me cockatoo cool.
Altogether now!
Take me koala back, Jack,
take me koala back.
He lives somewhere out on the track, Mac,
so take me koala back.
Altogether now!
Let me Abos go loose, Lou, *
let me Abos go loose.
They're of no further use, Lou,
so let me Abos go loose.
Altogether now!
Mind me platypus duck, Bill,
mind me platypus duck.
Don't let him go running amok, Bill,
mind me platypus duck.
Altogether now!
Play your digeridoo, Blue,
play your digeridoo.
Keep playing 'til I shoot thro' Blue,
play your digerydoo.
Altogether now!
Tan me hide when I'm dead, Fred,
tan me hide when I'm dead.
So we tanned his hide when he died Clyde,
(Spoken) And that's it hanging on the shed.
Altogether now!