Category: World Adventures

Day three started much the same as day two.  The bright, beautiful morning sun greeted us over the concrete jungle sprawled below.  Oh, and that lovely, savory soup awaited us atop the building.  

We expected that breakfast would be served in the same location.  Unfortunately, upon arrival at the Sky Lounge the room was dark and a single attendant stood ready to usher us onto another elevator.  Seems that this large, completely empty restaurant is not suitable to serve the same purpose two days in a row.  Nope.  We need to find a new spot for this morning’s shindig (sarcasm implied). 

I can’t decide if the shell-game hotel management plays with the morning food is some cruel joke, or a logistical strategy so I shut my mouth and just climb aboard. 

Our food was just as varied and flavorful as the day before.  We even had a system for gathering complimentary foods in fewer trips…and the soup!  I wish I had a pot of this stuff on my stove at all times. 

Today, Jeremiah is a determined man.  A couple we met had given us their hi-tech map of the area (complete with more street names and fewer pictures of temples) and explained the waterway transit system.  This waterway thoroughfare leads right to within walking distance of the Siriraj Medical Museum.  Remember?  The same Siriraj we spent half of the prior day walking the streets of Bangkok searching for. 

We learned that approximately one mile from our hotel was a depot, of sorts, for this local, riverboat commuter transit.  All we had to do was navigate our way to the tributary and pay the fare; creepy forensic museum here we come!  But first, the dreaded streets of Bangkok. 

A vast sea of humans and vehicles all pushing in different directions, and each vying for priority.  We mentally braced ourselves as we exited the elevator on the ground floor.  The contrast between the quiet, solitary elevator and the sardine-packed lobby is absurd.  I have never been surrounded by so many people in my life! 

We, again, leave the taxi queue area and head west toward the river.  The first half-dozen streets crossed were not terribly hectic, but still crossing made us anxious.  We watched in wonder as the locals fearlessly stepped into oncoming traffic to cross the roads unharmed and without incident. 

I was fascinated with the behavior and watched closely.  I noticed a trend in pedestrian protocol.  Pedestrians stop at a convenient location along a road and wait for an adequate number of ‘reinforcement’ pedestrians to also stop at the same spot.  As passing vehicles lose momentum, someone will spearhead the crossing effort. The hand facing traffic goes down at a “V” angle (we were told not to point directly at someone as it was considered rude) and you step out into the wild beyond.  And when one goes, so does the reinforcement group that had been forming as you waited.  How so much movement comes to an unspoken stop, all in harmony, is beyond me; but it does. 

At the riverboat depot we boarded to the back, left of the vessel.  I sat next to the water and looked at the riverbank overrun with plastic debris and trash of all sorts.  (We saw so much natural beauty ruined by man’s waste and ignorance to the impact of the handling of the waste.)  The boat sat virtually empty for several minutes and then, as if on cue, a swarm of commuters shuffled down the plank and quietly onto the boat. 

The aging man two rows ahead of me tugged on a rope which ran through small pulleys up the side of the boat.  The rigging was attached, finally, to a plastic shield off the side of the boat.  The shield was raised as needed to keep the spray from passing riverboat traffic off of passengers.  The engine roared to life and the anchor tossed aside. 

Once moving on the water the air cooled and the tree canopy allowed us some reprieve from the climbing midday sun.  The homes alongside the river were no more than twigs for frames, uneven plank boards for flooring, and corrugated plastic or metal serving as roofs and siding.  For some dwellings tattered curtains were the only shield from the elements.  More often than not, the Buddhist shrine in the courtyards glistened richly with golds and reds while the hovels beyond lay decaying. 

We recognize little glimpses of hope and beauty hidden in everyday life; potted flowers lining the entries of faded doorways served as subtle reminders of the resilience of the people in this region. 

When the boat finally reached its last stop we climbed the adjacent stairs to the walkway along the street above.  Jeremiah and I took turns reading the map and leading the expedition toward the museum.  I can only assume how foolish we looked while we buried our noses in the map as we walked, pointing and looking confused; often the only white people on the street. 

Persistence paid off!  Not only did we find the entrance to the museum, but a wonderful street market lined the road just outside. 

We must have made a dozen stops on that road before we ever made it inside the campus.  Decadent cakes, beer, gooey hazelnut crepes, several varieties of kabobed meat, clothes shopping, more beer, and so much people watching.

The Siriraj Medical campus was buzzing with activity.  All along the open air hallways and green spaces between buildings people milled about reading, talking, and laughing.  No one we stopped spoke English, so we found a campus map and made our way to the forensic building. 

The entrance was unmarked and unmanned; it’s a fluke we found it at all!  We knew we had arrived, though, just by the corridor’s appearance.  Fluorescent lights hummed overhead and filtered light through specimen-filled formaldehyde jars.  Several tiny ceramic figurines sat vigil next to the base of one such jar; a touching yet eerie reminder of the life-force that once inhabited the body of the baby inside. 

The room we entered housed row after row and aisle upon aisle of human anatomy specimens.  Curiously enthralled, we crept our way past remarkable oddities in the human body, early stages of anatomy mapping technology, and the wonderfully preserved lacework of the human nervous system. 

Although not for those with weak stomachs (#nuffdeadbabies), the forensic museum was fascinating and well worth two days of effort to get there.  Another visitor we happened upon in the exhibit explained to us that there was a whole other area we had missed.  Jeremiah was giddy! 

Back down the wide, curved staircase, across a courtyard and into an identical whitewashed building; oops!  This had to be where we were intended to begin our tour.  A curved wall guided us to a ticket counter and, beyond, highly interactive display rooms.  This part of the museum housed a creepy display of parasites and related afflictions (I seriously could have lived all my days without sharing space with a life-size mannequin plagued with testicular ringworm).  On the other hand, I was intrigued by the naturally mummified cadavers; fascinating stuff folks!  We both appreciated this up-close and unfiltered look into the human body.

Surprisingly enough, we were hungry again!  We left the orderly confines of the campus for the harried Bangkok streets in search of food.  Conveniently, we found a taxi with little trouble.  We hopped into the back seat and named our destination.  The driver nodded and we drove on.  A block into our ride we asked what the price would be.  We knew it should not be more than 80 baht.  When the driver told us his price was 200 baht we refused.  The nerve!  We may be tourists but not stupid ones; we tried to negotiate to 100 baht.  After all, there had to be a happy middle-ground.  Irritated the driver pulled to the side of the road and shooed us out of the taxi. 

There we were again, dejected and walking to our hotel halfway across the city.  Luckily, we were close enough to the waterway transit to make our way back.  We stopped at a rooftop cafe, cooled down with another few beers and ate an early dinner.  The water sparkled as brightly as the golden temple rooftops on the opposite bank.

This was a good day.  We had managed to successfully navigate our way from one end of this gigantic city to the other; we were proud and contented.  Although this was the last day we planned to spend in Bangkok we found ourselves wishing we had just a little more time to explore, a theme that would become common to us along this whole adventure.  We laughed at our mishaps so far and planned a trip to the night market later for foot rubs.

As the sun cast an orange-red glow across the Chao Phraya river we dreamed ahead to jungle temples and exhilaratingly dangerous Cambodian lands.  We had seen so much, had our senses and comfort zones assaulted, and eaten some of the most remarkable foods already…could it get better?  Were we at all ready for this?  I think, yes!

We woke early with the curtains drawn wide.  The day was starting off a bit hazy, like our minds.  We aren’t so much tired as we are disoriented in our surroundings.   City rooftops and massive roadways covered the landscape like body armor.  Only small patches of the natural, living planet below the armor are visible.

The hotel offered a complimentary buffet breakfast in the Sky Lounge atop the building.  Um, yes please!  We were extremely hungry and a multinational buffet sounded amazing.

 As the building is actually managed as three hotels and a restaurant/night club, we were unsure as to the navigation of the exchanges between the sections.

What we learned is there are two independent elevator systems which only run to certain floors.  It did get confusing.  But wait, there’s more!  Beyond the two main systems ran a third short elevator shaft up to the Sky Lounge and observatory.  It took us a couple tries to find that little side trip, but we made it and the buffet was glorious!

The room was a ring of silver clad food offerings at its inner point, and tables with window seats looking out over every direction of the city-jungle that is Bangkok.  We took turns scouting out culinary finds and returning to our table to share the spoils (and the view).

Jeremiah happened upon the pho station and brought back what would become my favorite dish served at Baiyoke.  Who knew I would love hot, spicy soup for breakfast? 

We left the restaurant and headed for the staircase to the observation deck above.  The hallway was poorly lit and had a strange antiseptic smell to it.  In a short amount of time we became accustomed to, and even enjoyed, the smell as it was so much more pleasant than the sewage odor out on the streets.  The glow of the light at the observation deck’s door was blindingly strong against the black star-scape painted on the interior walls’ facade. 

We blinked hard as we stepped out into the daylight and onto the metal grated floor of the deck.  I looked toward the outer handrail and beyond to the miniaturized size of the city below.  My head spun and I retreated to the safety of the inner edge, happy to hold the rail behind me and look out (and up).  Jeremiah, on the other hand, was in heaven!  He walked along the outer edge giddy and observant. 

Eventually I decided the whole thing wasn’t going to fall out of the sky if I let go and I moved across to the outer rail for a better look.  As the observation deck slowly rotated around the body of the hotel we tried to make mental note of the direction we would travel this day.  We knew we would be heading toward the river but we didn’t know the exact route or duration of our journey. 

Bangkok is an enormous city and we had places to see; The Siriraj Medical Museum to start!  We had a vague understanding of the direction to travel for the museum, but the map was lacking.  It showed temple locations as primary information and all other streets were unimportant.  Bummer. 

No bother, we figured we could at least point to our map, nod, smile, and be whisked away to our destination.  The taxi transaction would then end in an exchange of baht (Thai currency).  Right?!  After all, many travel sites boast of Bangkok’s English-friendly ways.  Ok.  Ready, go! 

Back down the exchange of elevators and out to the city streets teeming with life and activity below.  We pass the tourists waiting at the hotel’s door and travel down to the next block.  There we approached the back, curbside door of a hot pink taxicab and open it.  Jeremiah smiles and states the name of our sightseeing destination to the driver.  The driver smiles and says only, “temple” with a nod.  “No.  Museum.  Siriraj Museum.  Prannok Road.” Jeremiah said slowly and deliberately.  “Look.  Here.  On map.”  He pointed to our circled map reference.  The driver glanced up, smiled and shook his head and hand in union saying “No.”  We backed away befuddled and the driver drove forward.  We tried upwards of 15 variations of the same exchange … all ending in the same result.

There we stood, deflated and hot, for a quarter of an hour until finally one driver nodded when we stated the museum’s name while pointing to the map.  We hopped in the car with no further questions asked; and away we sped!  

Down wide and narrow concrete byways, and through the hordes of people walking every which way.  At no time could we make out the direction of the water or find a recognizable street name on our pathetic map.  We were 100% dependent on our taxi driver to know the way to go from a glance at our tourist’s map.  As the car slowed into side street parking we knew that dependence had 100% bitten us in the ass.

The driver deposited us at the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles.  Well, at least he  heard “museum,” he just missed the small detail of which museum we were aiming to tour.  We decided to find a place to collect our bearings and situate ourselves with our map location.  We also decided that this place needed to serve beer.

We ate lunch at a little streetside cafe offering free wi-fi and overpriced iced coffee.  We ventured a try of a green curry and eggplant dish and a version of the tom yum soup with milky broth and shrimp.  Both were exceptional! 

It turns out we are on Ratchadamnoen Nai Road just outside the Grand Palace.  Wait, what?!  We had no intention on touring the Grand Palace.  We had never even Googled it!  It also turns out that we are several miles (and a boat ride) from our intended adventure.  Oh well, time for a new plan. 

We made our way back to the street and navigated around halted tour groups, street beggars, merchant tables adorned in brightly colored linens, hanging baubles, and shiny trinkets for sale.  The grounds of the Grand Palace are surrounded by a formidable whitewashed wall, and every visitor enters and exits through massive, rich wooden gates flanked by guards. 

Before you are granted entrance to the Palace grounds you must be dressed appropriately.  My (below-knee) capris were, surprisingly, a fashion no-no, and Jeremiah was required to cover his tank top and shorts, STAT.  

Luckily, there is a service for the wayward, ignorant tourist experiencing just such a ‘costume malfunction’.  You may borrow (from unkempt dressing rooms) skirts, shirts and pants to cover your own fully-functional-yet-unacceptable clothing.  You pay a fully-refundable 1000 baht deposit, are handed a little yellow receipt (don’t lose this … no ticky, no money), and enter the Grand Palace temples assured that your are in dresscode compliance.  We were both boiling hot in two layers of clothes, but glad to have a shield of fabric between our skin and hundreds of other peoples’ sweat.  

My brain and eyes were not ready to process the amount of stimulation I encountered that day.  The temple rooms within visually stimulate so much that you can become overwhelmed.  Everywhere I looked was another beautiful, opulent, intricate, offering to the Palace and the care of its grounds.  

 

Peaks and domes glisten golden in the early day’s sun.  We couldn’t believe our eyes…  So.  Much.  Gold.  Thousands upon thousands of tiles are leafed in it and throngs of religious statues embellished richly.  

Restoration efforts are noticeable and ongoing around the grounds.  Of all the many throne rooms, prayer rooms, and courtyards a handful of buildings were cordoned off and surrounded by wooden scaffolding.  Upon that scaffolding perched pointy-hatted workers methodically removing decayed areas. On another section workers install replica pieces that show off the original grandure of the structures.  At one point we even came upon a replica of Ankgor Wat temple from Siem Reap, Cambodia.  We couldn’t wait to see the temples of Cambodia!  

After a few hours of meandering about the grounds (while sweating and drinking copious amounts of water) we were physically spent.  We left the Grand Palace and crossed the busy intersection in hopes of finding a taxi back to our hotel.  After the morning’s mishap we were skeptical but we needed to figure this taxi thing out.  

Eventually we did flag down a taxi that safely delivered us to the only familiar place in this land, the Baiyo.  The sun was just beginning its descent as we made our way into the hotel room.  The view beckoned us to sit and relax while the sky put on a color and light show that we enjoyed as if we were the only two people on the planet.  

That night we went in search of “Thai hot” food; easier said than done.  Jeremiah and I love hot food.  I think Jeremiah is excessive in his zeal at times, but he loves me anyway.  

This little woman ground several ghost and Thai chilis with her mortar and pestle.  She added this ground hell-fire to fine pad noodles, assorted vegetables, broth, and shrimp in the wok and wove her spicy voodoo magic.  Finally, we received: one bowl of steaming goodness, one fork, and one tissue to share between us.  

We were directed to sit at the solitary bistro table behind the cart (which hovered precariously in the entryway of a laundry service).  I can tell you that the spice that woman used was mind-blowing.  I had to tap out early.  My nose had long since used up our single allotted cleaning tissue and I was on fire from the inside out.  Let’s just say it wasn’t my prettiest moment.  Jeremiah was a glutton for punishment and ate heartily.  He laughed through the tears.  I assumed it was a good thing.

The days leading up to our departure were a blur of checked tick marks on to-do lists, last minute necessary travel supply purchases, and crazy domestic mishaps. 

 

The first day of our trip started early…like the day before early.  I know it may seem strange to consider the start to our trip occurring before departure, but this was the longest trip either of us had embarked upon and we wanted to be comfortable and safe.  

 

 

Travel Tip:  Buy quality compression socks (my preference is the long, over the knee style) and wear them!  Embrace the fact that you look goofy as hell in them and ride the wave of leg and foot comfort all the way to your flight’s destination. 

 

 

Fatigued and giddy we arrived at our train stop, stepped from the air-conditioned car and straight into the wall of humid heat we would battle for the next 21 days.  Tonight the warmth was welcome and exotic.  We hurried down the train platform and through the poorly lit alleyway toward the towering fluorescent beacon of our hotel.  At this point we were fueled by the last burst of energy we could muster, and the repugnance of the aroma from raw sewage running down the roads and pooling in crevices and pits throughout.

 

After a refreshing shower we threw open our room’s wall-to-wall curtains and fell, exhausted, into arm chairs facing the twinkling cityscape below.  We raided the minibar and toasted the day’s successful travels with strawberry wine coolers.  We fell asleep gazing at the same city lights, satisfied and excited to experience the land around us.  Tomorrow we ride!  But, first, sweet slumber.

How do you retell an adventure? I am glad to share the experiences Jeremiah and I had on our trip through Thailand and Cambodia this past month … but how to start? Well, let’s lay out a map of Southeast Asia and I can better visualize the travels, ok?

After all, 20-someodd days of living life on the other side of the world is long enough to forget a little bit; and if you know me, it’s long enough to forget what happened yesterday.

I can tell you that the bright-eyed (if not a bit groggy) people who set out on this adventure were in no way anticipating the journey that would come to pass. But isn’t that the way life goes? … Plans have a way of changing mid-flight.

We intentionally, painfully, liberatingly planned to: travel light, travel cheap, and let the experience lead us.

In hindsight, we did alright on the ‘light’ and ‘cheap’ points, but we excelled at letting the experience lead and change us! I know we both can say implicitly that we have grown individually and as a couple by leaps and bounds. I have always mused that you really get to know your partner during projects and travel … that theory was tested during our month apart from the people and life to which we are accustomed. You cannot help but change.

As we settle into being home, hang out with family, spend time with friends, and jump head-long into the mounds of ‘adult to-do’s’ we end up often mentally slipping back to the days and weeks we spent in a land made of red dirt and lush greens. A layer of rubbish, plastic debris, and dust was prevalent in most of the places we visited, but the beauty and magic of the land is undeniable … and the spell has been cast. If you sit long enough with either Jeremiah or me you will likely be told a story from our trip. We can’t seem to help ourselves, please do be patient with us.

Over the next few weeks I will share some of the memories we have made and try to take you to the unforgettable sites we have seen. We hope to spark your interest in Thailand and Cambodia, and in international travel of all kinds! We will offer the feeble advice recently acquired from a ‘learned it the hard way’ perspective. And, finally, we will show you some marvelous images photographed by Jeremiah Andrews Photography (not to mention, a few snapped by little ole’ me).

I am excited to get underway in the next few days … stay tuned!