Our first full day in Bangkok is preceded by breakfast at the hotel. The sausages are pale and insipid-looking, and Kate and I debate whether there are enough sausage eating ex pats in Thailand to justify setting up a sausage import business.
We take the Sky Train to the river and get one of the public river buses or boats to the Golden Palace for a fare of 15 baht each. There are tourist boats available for 50 baht, but apart from being more likely to guarantee you a seat and perhaps a lifebuoy in the event of the boat capsizing (I counted fewer than twenty rings for the 100 or so passengers on our boat) there’s no real advantage to getting one of the tourist boats.
The river is a crazy melee of craft criss crossing the river with motor boats of all shapes and sizes going about their business, which is mainly the business of ferrying people along or across the river. It’s like I imagine the Thames was in Victorian times or the Norfolk Broads is now on a Sunday afternoon, when lairy groups of lads are out on motor cruisers causing havoc after a few lunchtime beers. Except the Norfolk Broads isn’t generally as warm. Fortunately the spray from the boat occasionally showers its passengers to keep us cool. I try not to think about all the detritus I’ve seen floating in the river and how clean the river water might (not) be.
We disembark from the boat and head for the Golden Palace, one of the must see sights of Bangkok. Unfortunately, the palace has a cover up policy that deems that my shorts are unacceptable, even though they reach down below my knees, and I’m not inclined to pay the 300 baht that the shop opposite the palace entry gate is charging for trousers that I am only ever going to wear the once. In the searing heat, Kate is similarly disinclined to cover up and we return to the river to get a boat back to where we came from.
We spend some time looking for the ticket booth for our return boat trip, only to learn that you buy your ticket on the boat. There are many signs at the pier advertising different boat trips, but none explaining this. We soon find ourselves advising other tourists what to do.
We eschew the cultural highlight of Bangkok for drinks at the Hilton Hotel overlooking the river. It’s a beautiful spot and we are shaded from the sun. It’s really quite perfect, until the bill arrives. The 300 baht investment in trousers to wear around the Golden Palace would have been better.
At 5pm we have arranged to meet Kate’s friend Frank, who she hasn’t seen in over 15 years and who now lives in Thailand, along with his colleague and fellow Mancunian John. After a couple of drinks in the Australian Bar we move on to another bar favoured by ex pats where we are joined by another half or dozen or so Brits and an Aussie, all of whom work in South East Asia, some for years. It’s a bit like crashing someone’s works night out, but fun nevertheless.
The ex pats are a strange bunch in that they are all making a life abroad, including in some cases marrying Thai women, and there’s no sense that any of them will return ‘home’. Thailand is home now, even if the sausages aren’t that great (returning to the sausage theme, John tells me that a pack of frozen Richmond sausages can be purchased for around £8. If we were to set it up, it doesn’t sound as though Kate’s and my sausage import business would bring home the bacon.).
We are taken by Frank to Soi Cowboy, a short street containing around 40 bars most of which are crammed with sex workers, ladyboys and would be customers (ie. white middle-aged men). There is a glittering array of neon signs and it’s almost like walking onto a movie set, so unreal is the atmosphere.
We have one drink with Frank and then head back to our hotel, stopping off for an Indian meal to soak up some of the evening’s booze. And then to bed. We have been drinking since 2pm. It’s been a long and boozy day.
richard040560 