Serendipitous Siam

 Memorable adventures, it seems, are never destined to start smoothly!

I decided to see a doctor regarding a pain in my thumb the day before flying out to Bangkok. It had been there for about three weeks and it was painful to pick up anything with weight. I decided a consultation was needed and was recommended a doctor by the school nurse. She gave me the address and off I popped into the taxi thinking I knew where the road was! Well, the doc’s surgery could not be found on the road I was sure it was on. The taxi man was patient and stopped and asked varying baffled faces, but no one was left wiser. In the end, I rang the other nurse at the school.  She told me I was on the wrong road and the place was elsewhere! After fresh instructions to the driver, we eventually arrived at Dr Sherif’s.  The wait was long but no longer than a UK surgery. He diagnosed tendonitis and first asked me to have an X ray done. This was conducted by a non English speaking Egyptian in a lab coat who used sign language to demonstrate what I had to do. After twisting my hand into various awkward positions as instructed, I had to go back and wait for the X rays to be ready. Fortunately, nothing was wrong with my bones, so tendonitis it was! Dr Sherif felt a steroid injection should do the trick and persuaded me to have it then and there!!! The needle was huge and towards the end of the injection, I felt like someone had crushed my wrist! He warned there would be numbness followed by pain the following day. Then all would be ‘fine’. I made it home with a numb thumb and could barely open the purse to pay the taxi dude (slick back hair, leather jacket, the works!) I did not have enough money on me to pay the doc, so he said he would send his driver to collect it before I had to fly off. He was an amiable man whose surgery was full of international certificates and family pictures. His wife was a British lady and I suspected Scottish as he had graduated from Glasgow University.  I decided Dr Sherif was a very nice man indeed.

The following morning I woke up before dawn with a throbbing hand. The numbness had worn off and there was sure pain. I decided it would subside and got up knowing there was some serious packing to be done and things to sort before heading ‘out of town ‘ for three weeks. As the morning progressed, I could barely put any sort of pressure on the fingers. It really felt like the whole hand and wrist had been broken. I called the doc and got the ok to take some pain killers I had been given for an operation. It was becoming unbearable. In the meantime, I became a left handed phenomenon!! I amazed myself at how I managed. By the time husband arrived back home, we only had a few hours left. I could barely move my right hand now. I started to regret having the injection considering how dexterous one normally needs to be for a long flight and the preamble of constantly getting out passports and documents et al! As expected, husband ended up lugging the cases. I should have put my hand in a sling as it was totally useless now. Fortunately the check in went smoothly. Our esteemed landlord Captain ‘O’ had instructed the leading man at check- in to upgrade us if the first class/business sections were not booked out. Alas they were, but we were given the roomy seats at the front of economy.  He called before we left and apologised he could not do better and called the flight twice in the air to check we were fine. We found this out from the chief purser at the end of the flight. My hand after 8 hours was manoeuvrable and so less useless for our Siam stay.

We had never been to Bangkok and both had the impression it would be the Cairo of the Far East! How wrong we were! How utterly wrong! Once the fiasco of the pick- up was sorted i.e. the pick –up arranged with the hotel did not show so we paid up for the airport limousine service and got transported in a roomy and comfortable BMW! As we drove away, we marvelled at how green and clean everything looked. The ‘scuzz’ factor was negligible. No constant hooting of car horns;  people safely walking on pavements; cars driving in lanes and keeping to them; high rises had air cons machines but they were neatly tucked behind balconies...all in all the place made Cairo look like a dusty rubbish dump!

Our hotel was on Silom Street, walking distant from the Burmese Embassy which we would go to on Monday. We checked in but complained that no pick up had arrived for us. They were apologetic and deducted the difference in the cost for our overall stay by reducing the rate for each night. We liked their no quibble attitude and our first good impressions of the city were sealed. That evening, we decided on an early supper and took advice from the tour lady with whom we decided to book a day trip out. The Floating market at Damonoen Saduak at Samut Songkhram (my choice) and the River Kwai (husband’s choice). It would need to be an early start but we felt would be worth it. The following day, we would see the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew. We had no idea how long we would be in Thailand after that so ‘must see’ had to be done!

Walking out to head for the Silom Village Complex, we revelled in the balmy evening. The novelty of being able to walk constantly on a pavement did not escape us. The road was busy, the side streets bustled with night food stalls but all was orderly. Silom Village was a relatively new food court/shopping complex and very tastefully laid out with a beautiful water grotto and carp pond... The service was good and the food matched. We enjoyed being able to sit out and not feel like we would asphyxiate from dust! As we looked around at the apartments and what was available to us in the city, thoughts of living and working in the Far East tugged at our hearts again. We had never considered Bangkok, but we would now! No doubt! So much of where we want to travel in the world is in the Far East. It is a part of the world which has so much personal history and appeal for us. We enjoyed our meal, browsed the shops a while and planned a future life as locals before a well earned early night!!

June, the tour guide was a diminutive dark Thai woman of uncertain years as Far Eastern women are and incredibly jolly and smiling. She was charming. There was only one other couple with us, a young pair who we soon discovered were from Montrose in Scotland and both worked in the oil industry. They were in Bangkok for a few nights before heading off for ten days to Phuket. We enjoyed their company much throughout the day. They were open minded and warm and we all delighted in humouring June with her notions of reincarnation and the benefits of higher minded meditation. Her claim that her niece could speak to a resident of Pluto amused us greatly. However, I was completely prepared to take her claim that I had once been a Princess in the Burmese court! Better than a penniless peasant! As with all guides, she narrated facts and figures as we drove out of the city.  We anticipated the quality of housing would dwindle and everywhere would start to look filthier. We were disappointed. Even the outskirts of the city were well kept. We passed smaller villages which were less polished, but still had safe walkable well kept pavements! We don’t even enjoy that in our allegedly affluent ex-pat Maadi!

As June predicted, it took an hour and a half to the floating market. We stopped off briefly at a coconut farm spot to marvel at what could be made out of coconuts and to have the obligatory loo stop. Before we arrived at the Market, we were taken on a wonderful long tail boat trip along winding canals of immense lushness. The lady sped us along and the breeze was coldly refreshing. The Market was a wonder. Before the days of tourists ogling the locals going about their business, it must undoubtedly have been busier affair. Now there are more tourists in punts than sellers, but there is enough to cause a boat jam and to marvel at the array of vibrant colours and delicious curious food stuffs. I found the food punts the most fascinating. The ole girls deftly managed pots and pans and trays of prepared foods, all ready to be doled out to buyers in swift motion. It was speedy precision work and compelling to watch. There were also men with large lean anacondas tempting the brave tourist to hold one around their necks. Husband ended up playing with a baby elephant which then chased me with its snout to buy her a treat! Cheeky thing! We finished by having amazingly good coffee with our young couple as we reflected on our experiences of hawkers. They clearly were less experienced than us and got much more hassle. Our body language clearly now denotes, ‘We live in Big Bad Cairo, do not mess with us!!’

Onwards then we went to Kanchanaburi, an unassuming provincial town where the Bridge on the River Kwai can be found. Only 8 rounded sections of the original survive in what was called the Death Railway. It was constructed by Allied POWs during the second World War under appalling conditions which are chillingly set out at the JEATH War Museum on the grounds of Wat Chaichumpol, a quiet almost sleepy monastery by the river. Such museums are always sobering and haunting and it’s hard to believe of man’s inhumanity to man in such a lush and beautiful setting. We ended our trip with a walk around the Allied War Cemetery. Here, husband took his time, looking out for members of his former regiment, Gordon Highlanders...and there they were their names and ages on neat copper plaques, respectfully set out on beautiful kept grounds. May they Rest in Peace.

Our next jolly out in the city was to Wat Phra Kaew and Grand Palace Complex. I had seen photos of the place on various travel programmes, but as with many wondrous things, nothing prepares one for the scale and magnificence of these buildings. Each section is exquisitely decorated in china mosaics or glass mosaics and the Bot of the Emerald Buddha is the most stunning with an array of gilded garudas (the mythical half bird/half man creatures) along the outside rim. The details and intricacies almost hurt the eyes. So much to take in. The impression one is left with is magisterial, which of course has to be its intention. As the most visited site in Bangkok, it was busy but not madly so. The interesting thing is it is a place of worship for the Buddhist Thais and not simply somewhere for Westerners to be impressed. It was humbling to see them pray and give offerings; especially the gilding of a miniature Buddha in fresh leaves of gold. I hope their prayers are heard and answered.

Monday morning saw us getting ready for the trip to the Burmese Embassy. This for me was a fraught affair. I did not want to hope it would go well, and our experience of trying to get a visa so far had ended in bitter disappointment without explanation. We headed to the Embassy and queued to get forms then waited to hand in forms. It was a packed dingy place with booths at one end. The officials looked like they were in a bad mood. The range of folk there was amazing. There were monks, western looking tourists of all ages, small dark orientals, many of whom looked like they were applying for Business visas. Once it was our turn, we went to the processing booth. He told us it would take two days for the visa. We asked if we could have express visas the same day as we wanted to fly out the following day. We told him we were prepared to pay. He acquiesced with us collecting them the following day.  We walked out, leaving our passports, having paid our money. It felt quite surreal. Was that it? The Office was a visa buying outfit! Clearly the Embassy in Cairo must have binned our application forms and my father was told utter tosh at the Bangkok Embassy when asked if we could apply for visas there. They told him first time entrants to Burma had to apply from the UK if they were British! This is clearly a regime with consistent standards!

In mini celebration we had street food! It was unusually delicious given the circumstances. We were the only ‘westerners’ sitting on the knee high plastic stools, enjoying our Thai fare!

That afternoon, we took a long tail boat around the canals of Thornburi behind the Chao Phraya River. There were two faces to this city, but both delighted. The ultra modern buildings which lined the main river are clearly 21^st Century and the skyline equally so. Behind these glittering skyscrapers are wooden homes of varying decay, but most extremely well-kept. The fauna, at times, seemed to merge into these semi-floating residences. All of it was oddly picturesque along this serpentine network of canals. We passed an hour and a half on these waterways, just us on an elongated vessel, noisily gliding along this wonderful hidden labyrinth.

The following day, we had a free morning before collecting our visas at 3.30pm. We decided to take our time over breakfast which was a luxurious affair worthy of a 5* hotel.  The selection, quality and layout were consistently good. We particularly liked the fact that good quality coffee was dispensed from high quality coffee machines in mugs! One did not have to constantly hail a member of the waiting staff for top ups! This pleased husband greatly being a coffee fiend! We also talked about the hotel bar where we had spent no more than half an hour on two previous occasions. The first evening, I was taken by the ‘noise’ coming from the bar from two characters who looked like on another night they doubled as a mariachi band! We decided to go in for one drink to sample a little of their repertoire. A lone Japanese guest seemed to be making a request. Moments later, he got up and did a tune in Japanese...karaoke style! After him, discovering that we were from the UK , Tom and Jerry, as they were called, decided to play Apache by the Shadows or as husband said, ‘Saddows’. We clapped politely and sipped on our beers quickly! Moments later, a lone Japanese man, who was now sitting with a petite Thai girl, got up and started dancing to an Elvis tune including grinding hip gyrations! He tried to get his young escort to join him, which she did reluctantly! The whole show was highly entertaining but encouraged us to down our drinks and leave pronto!!! A few evenings later, we went back, being gluttons for punishments! On cue for the Brits, Tom and Jerry strummed up with Apache by the Saddows again! This time, we looked out for ‘Criff’, who alas did not appear. Shortly before we went to the bar, we had been accosted by a tuk-tuk driver offering us ‘ping pong and banana’ show! I was fascinated by the idea of table tennis being played in a banana plantation with flood lights. My ‘man of the world’ husband assured me that was not likely to be the case as we both chuckled at the possibilities of what the show would involve!

The following morning we had time to have yet another leisurely and luxurious breakfast. We decided to go and check out the Indian market in the city and I particularly wanted to see the flower market. We took a hotel taxi, pricey but immensely comfortable. I commented to the driver about the ubiquitous images of the King! I asked if he was well loved. I knew it was forbidden on pain of imprisonment for locals and foreigners to openly criticise Kingy. He was at first cagey in his response, then said in his opinion, the country would be better without the King! He clearly trusted us to come out with those words of treason! He would prefer the King to be like our Queenie with no political power. In his opinion, the King heavily supported those he liked and got rid of those he did not! That clearly explained the red/yellow shirts trouble of the previous year. The country was still officially under a State of Emergency Act. This was due to end the following day. I was glad to hear him talk candidly. The images of King are omnipresent in his yellow glory and all official buildings had huge banners of him. He is associated with the colour yellow as he was born on a Monday. All days of the week have a colours associated with them in Thailand not that I could tell you what they are now! We also knew Kingy was musical as we stumbled on a Concert at Limphani Park. That was a wonderful experience. We were browsing stalls on some Eco Friendly Sunday market and just as we were about to leave, I heard the strings of an orchestra tuning up. We ambled over to find it was the Bangkok Symphony Orchestra. It was heavily sponsored and free for all! There were 8 such concerts over the Winter Season. The evening was balmy and we took our pews on some rocks and were happily lulled for an hour or so. I wandered away at one point, my ears being pricked by some Techno tunes! I’m no fan, but I noticed there seemed to be a lot of folk moving like in some ‘flash’ dancing event! Well, it was an outdoor ‘free for all’ aerobic workout! I took a video of it not envying the jumping around! I have to admit, if I lived in the city, I might be persuaded to wander to a park on an early Sunday evening and indulge in a work out after an ice cream! We came away, seriously wanting to live in the city!!! Oh, one of the tunes performed by the orchestra was a Kingy composition! A rather pleasant Waltz tune....

The Indian market was smaller than expected and most of it housed in a mini mall. The outfits were outrageously beautiful but none of them fitted Madame! I seemed to have the fattest arms. I decided not to try on the cropped tops as I knew my mid-drift was not toned to required standards! The humiliation would be too great!!!

The flower market was a riot of colour and joy. I particularly loved the blooms wrapped in newspaper. The scent of jasmine wreaths filled the air at certain points and there was the most beguiling array of orchids. I smiled, snapping photos merrily for the entire walk. Yes, a chance to shop there as a resident would be worth exploring...

At 3pm, we were sitting once again in the Burmese Embassy, nervously clutching our slip to collect our passports. There were fewer folk but memorable faces from the day before. At approximately 3.15pm the booths opened! Clearly the officials wanted to be away home quick! I queued with bated breath, still not believing we would be given a visa. I had been adamant about not buying our flight tickets until the visas were in our hands. We got to the booth, handed over our slips and waited. The young man handed our passports back to us without any hesitation, our visas stuck in. He asked us to check the details were correct and then got us to sign a form to say our passports had been collected. We walked out slightly incredulous at what had happen. We looked at our visas again. They were fancy indeed. It made our Vietnamese visas look like the pauper’s version! Clearly this regime had bureaucratic artistry! Still sighing, we rushed into the nearest travel agent and without any ado, booked our tickets to Yangon the following day. As we walked out clutching our e-ticket, I finally allowed myself an inner smile of delight, that finally, after 33 years, I would indeed be returning to the land of my birth, to meet up with my father, who had planned a real ‘home-coming’ for both of us.....