Bangkok comes with friends

In the beginning, I had no intention of spending much time in Bangkok. It was going to be a pit stop on the way out of Thailand. But powers (ticket prices) intervened and it became my first stop in the country. I wasn't too excited about spending more than a day there as a solo female traveler, but I allotted several days for it just to give it a chance. If worst came to worst, I could always just hop on the next train/bus out. However, Bangkok ended up being a wonderful surprise.

I arrived in the midst of a storm grayer than any I ever saw in Vietnam, and spent ages at an underpass haggling with and rejecting cab drivers who were trying to charge me absurd quantities to get from the last airport rail stop to my hostel. Finally, someone consented to a price whose inflation was within reason. As he drove it became apparent that he didn't actually know where he was going, but luckily I had a Thai sim card by then and so I let him use my phone to call the hostel for directions. At one point he tried to drop me off on the side of the road saying, "it's over there," and making a vague directional gesture. I was not going to pay so much to be dropped off on the wrong side of the street of who knows where in the middle of the rain. I told him I wasn't getting out until he took me to the hostel, and so he begrudgingly kept going. Things turned up from here, though. As soon as I plopped my stuff in my room I made the acquaintance of Katy, a Scottish girl who has been traveling for almost seven months now. Soon, I was invited to join her and some of her friends for dinner. Another guest in our room, Carlos, from Peru, joined us too, as well as another Peruvian girl we met in the lobby. With Katy's friends, Nick and Rachelle, Gibraltarian and English, respectively, we were quite the large and somewhat international group. We had highly recommended pad thai that did not disappoint, though I found it laughable that my first meal in Thailand is the dish for the unadventurous in Thai restaurants back home. We walked to Khao San road, aka backpacker central. It was seething with shops, backpackers, bars, and food carts. One of those food carts was selling fried insects, and I made up for my blase but delicious dinner by having a fried grasshopper for dessert. It had no flavor of it's own; it was just a crunchy, soy-flavored snack. I also bought a ring, and through the bargaining process ended up paying for it partly with beer.

Big vats of in-demand pad thai

'Dessert' close-up

Scared? Who, me?

The next day I went to the massive weekend market with Katy, Nick, and Rachelle, as well as Joe, an American also staying at our hostel. We spent most of the day there and, aside from buying a few souvenirs and showing impressive restraint, the most notable part of the day was that I tried a traditional local dessert: mango and sticky rice. I was glad I tried it and satisfied to have had it once, but the UK-ers fell in love with it and have been eating it ever since.

It's hard for something with big chunks of mango to not taste good

In the evening I met a pair of Canadian travelers, Ann and Max. They joined us in our dinner quest and wandering, and the three of us decided to join forces the next day.

The dinner gang

The next morning, Max, Ann, and I went to the Grand Palace, a massive complex that includes the official residence of the Kings of Siam until 1925, several museums, and Wat Phra Kaeo. When we were across the street, a man came up to us and said that we would not be allowed in because Max was wearing shorts. Moreover, it was a Buddhist holiday so all wats (temples) would be free, but the Grand Palace would be closed until noon, three hours later. Fortunately, I had read enough about scams to ignore him and say we should go see for ourselves. There was even a recording blaring from loudspeakers set up all around the palace wall saying not to trust anyone outside. We approached an opening in the wall and a man told us that we had to buy tickets there and then continue to the main entrance. There was a guard standing at this entrance and I looked to him to see if he would give any indication as to whether this man was to be trusted, but he did not. Again, I said we should keep going. When we got to the main entrance, we found that the palace was open, Max could rent pants, and tickets were purchased further in. I was glad we were smart but shocked by the number of attempts to mislead us. As a traveler it is sometimes necessary to ask for help, and not being able to trust that help is unnerving.

The palace was massive, impressive, overwhelming. Every surface was painted, tiled, gilded, carved, somehow decorated. Wat Phra Kaeo is often called the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. It is a chapel that contains a Buddha carved from a single massive piece of jade (not emerald). He has different vestments for the different seasons, summer, rainy, winter, and is ceremoniously cleaned and changed by the king on the appointed dates. While we were sitting in the chapel, I noticed a young man doing some restorations in the corner. The entire interior is covered in murals, and this man was retouching the skin on a line of soldiers or perhaps attendants. With a tiny brush he painted the flat base for the face, hands, and feet of each of these men. He was deft but it was slow going, and I thought about how much longer it would take to fill in the details like facial features and fingers, and how this was just one tiny corner of one painted room on these palatial grounds decked in intricacy.

We were going to meet Joe for lunch and we were running a little behind schedule. I was tempted to skip the last museum, but I am so glad we didn't. The Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles chronicled the Queen's resurrection of Thai silk and traditional weaving patterns and apparel. Traditional clothing was outlawed in the early 1940s, and as a result most related traditions were dying out by the time Sirikit became queen. She was going to go on a world tour and wanted to be able to showcase Thai culture in the process. She sent people into villages to collect scraps of old silk to use for inspiration, and worked with weavers to reproduce those textiles. Meanwhile, she worked with French designer Pierre Balmain to develop a national Thai dress (like the equivalent of the ao dai), which is now considered traditional formal wear. Though at times I questioned the extremely glowing terms with which her efforts and subsequent influence were described, it was nonetheless inspiring.

After lunch the four of us went to Wat Pho. It is famous for a massive reclining Buddha. I have seen several at this point so I was not particularly excited about this one, but this one ended up being one of my favorites. It was displayed in close quarters, so it was hard to get a sense of his true size or to get a picture of the whole sculpture, but his feet were beautifully inlaid with mother of pearl. This wat was much smaller than the Grand Palace, and so it was more manageable and easier to appreciate.

Buddha is comfy

Mother of pearl fingerprints (toeprints?)

Smaller Buddha. People press squares of gold leaf onto it, perhaps as an act
of devotion.

We took a boat across the river for 3 baht (10 cents) to visit Wat Arun. It is featured on the 10-baht coin, and is distinctive because of its five spires, the tallest of which is about 250 feet high. Again, I marveled at the intricate decorations and did my best to photograph both the detail and the expanse. You could climb dizzyingly steep steps partway up the central spire and enjoy a peaceful view of the city and the river.

Near the base of the main spire

Details

Other details

Looking out onto the wat grounds

Thursday was my last day in Bangkok, but as I was taking a night train out, I still had plenty of time to do things during the day. After buying a train ticket to Chiang Mai and getting a pair of Dunkin' Donuts in the process, I went to Jim Thompson's house, which is now a museum. He was an American architect and businessman who transplanted to Thailand and also contributed to the revitalization of the silk industry. His company's fabrics were used to make the costumes for the Rogers and Hammerstein's The King and I. His house is actually made of six traditional Thai houses, which he combined, and it contains the many artifacts he collected during his life.

His house amongst the foliage

Joe and I met the others for lunch, and we ended up a very local place where no English was spoken. Luckily, a tableful of local business women was getting up, and they took it upon themselves to order several courses for us. Grilled chicken, sticky rice, a whole fish, and spicy papaya salad made their way to our table.

Fish and chicken

After that it was time to seek out the bowl making village, where a few families still hand-make the bowls monks use to receive alms. It used to be required that they be hand made, but several years ago regulations were changed and now the craft is being lost. A different person is responsible for each step in the process, so by walking through the village I was able to observe every step.

Some of us made a quick trip to Lumpini Park in the evening and spent about five minutes bopping around with ladies participating in a public drop-in aerobics class before we went to the train station, boarded our purple train, and said goodbye to Bangkok. I enjoyed my time there, and I know my hostel friends were a big part of the difference between my expectations and my experience.