The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free...
I had been singing this song in my head since boarding the plane, but I had absolutely no idea how apropos it would be.
Until we actually arrived and lay witness.
As we came in early in the evening, the sun had just about set and we couldn’t make out much, other than it was reasonably hot, and insanely humid. Humid like I didn’t know humid could be. I was sure that humidity in fact maxed out at 100%, but that rule doesn’t seem to apply in Bangkok, I am convinced if you ran down the street you’d likely drown from the amount of moisture you’d wind up inhaling. Luckily it is bearable, because even at 140% or whatever it really is, the temperature seems to stay steady at around 28 to 30 degrees, not so bad. And truth be told I like the texture of this humidity, it has that nice tropical quality that’s hard to pin down; it feels somehow softer, more velvety and inviting than that crappy, smoggy, sticky stuff we get back home.
Or maybe that’s just the nature of this town.
One thing is screamingly apparent, although not big as Shanghai – at 20M people not much is – this place is pretty big and densely packed. The recorded population is only 6 million but the reality is known to be much higher, looking around I’d buy 10M plus any day. One thing’s for sure, the traffic here is retarded. No matter where we go or what hour it is, there’s a jam somewhere. But enough whining, on with our story.
As we came in early in the evening, the sun had just about set and we couldn’t make out much, other than it was reasonably hot, and insanely humid. Humid like I didn’t know humid could be. I was sure that humidity in fact maxed out at 100%, but that rule doesn’t seem to apply in Bangkok, I am convinced if you ran down the street you’d likely drown from the amount of moisture you’d wind up inhaling. Luckily it is bearable, because even at 140% or whatever it really is, the temperature seems to stay steady at around 28 to 30 degrees, not so bad. And truth be told I like the texture of this humidity, it has that nice tropical quality that’s hard to pin down; it feels somehow softer, more velvety and inviting than that crappy, smoggy, sticky stuff we get back home.
Or maybe that’s just the nature of this town.
One thing is screamingly apparent, although not big as Shanghai – at 20M people not much is – this place is pretty big and densely packed. The recorded population is only 6 million but the reality is known to be much higher, looking around I’d buy 10M plus any day. One thing’s for sure, the traffic here is retarded. No matter where we go or what hour it is, there’s a jam somewhere. But enough whining, on with our story.
Our hotel this time is the Oakwood Suites, one of a world-wide chain of lodgings that offers everything from standard short term rooms to long term apartments. We each wind up with our own 3 1/2 with full kitchen, dinning/living room, good size bedroom and a big balcony overlooking downtown Bangkok off in the distance. The building is huge, with 5 diffrent towers surrounding a gorgeous central garden / bar / pool complex. The only problem is getting to the room, which nearly requires a map. Two seperate elevator rides, connections through indoor and outdoor passageways, the only thing missing is a portage. More than once I wind up in the garage.
We are fortunate enough to once again have two excellent hosts / guides for this leg, our sales rep, Lee Ming, and one of the factory’s administrators, Patra. Once again nothing seems to be too much trouble, the entire time we are in their company they seem eager to make sure we’re looked after and are enjoying the experience. Since we already know Lee Ming quite well, and she being all too familiar with Ray and his habits, she immediately takes over from Mike in the let’s-terrorize-the-out-of-sorts-Irishman department, and Patra being extremely sharp is quick to get in on the act. I just sit back and enjoy. I mean the guy asks for it, he really is the perfect victim. But I must say I respect the fact that he is the first to admit it. And hey, how dumb is he, really? He’s the one with the two cute chicks fawning over him…
First stop after settling into our hotel is dinner, where we are taken out to a local steak house as once again the reputation of Ray’s temperamental belly precedes him.
After some great grub we are on route to some sort of nightclub that girls describe as a “cabaret” with dance acts, etc. Hmmm, the last time we went down that road here things were interesting, to say the least, but there was nothing to prepare us for this place. Bangkok is of course world famous for many things that, um, you won’t exactly see on the Travel Channel, so my Situational Awareness Radar is immediately set to high.
From the outside it looked just like any other nice club we’ve been to, but immediately upon entering the main hall my eyes went saucer-wide. The place was HUGE. A giant dark hall, easily 10,000 sq ft or more with ceilings that had to be five or 6 stories up. And the scene… There are perimeter bars stationed all the way around the edges, a huge show stage at the front with a fashion-style catwalk extending straight out, and another high semi-circular catwalk that runs from the corner of the long back wall bar out to the center of the hall and back to the other corner. The music is blasting, the lights are flashing and there are many hundreds if not easily a thousand people in here partying like it’s the last days of their life. We are taken to a table where the balance of our kind hosts await and greet us like long lost children, and are then in turn introduced to our team of hostesses. Much like the Karaoke bar experience, you are assigned a team of girls to pour your drinks, play dice, dance with and generally see to it that you are entertained. I can’t help noticing that there are however at least 6 or 8 of them, so much is going on that I can’t be sure, but we are only 4 men in the group, so there is most definitely a surplus in the hostess-to-guy ratio. And they seem rather keen on outdoing one another to get our attention. Which isn’t terribly hard to do, as reputed, the Thai girls are stunning. Imagine the typical petite regional frame, but with Euro style fender flares and, um, lots more cubic displacement. They are like the Type-R of Asian women.
I struggle in how to describe the overall formula. The recipe seems to be: take equal parts FTV, dance club, rock concert and Playboy mansion party, put in blender and set to liquefy. Once again Ray looks over at me as if to say “uh, what’s the deal????”. I have no more answers than I did the first time.
We are fortunate enough to once again have two excellent hosts / guides for this leg, our sales rep, Lee Ming, and one of the factory’s administrators, Patra. Once again nothing seems to be too much trouble, the entire time we are in their company they seem eager to make sure we’re looked after and are enjoying the experience. Since we already know Lee Ming quite well, and she being all too familiar with Ray and his habits, she immediately takes over from Mike in the let’s-terrorize-the-out-of-sorts-Irishman department, and Patra being extremely sharp is quick to get in on the act. I just sit back and enjoy. I mean the guy asks for it, he really is the perfect victim. But I must say I respect the fact that he is the first to admit it. And hey, how dumb is he, really? He’s the one with the two cute chicks fawning over him…
First stop after settling into our hotel is dinner, where we are taken out to a local steak house as once again the reputation of Ray’s temperamental belly precedes him.
After some great grub we are on route to some sort of nightclub that girls describe as a “cabaret” with dance acts, etc. Hmmm, the last time we went down that road here things were interesting, to say the least, but there was nothing to prepare us for this place. Bangkok is of course world famous for many things that, um, you won’t exactly see on the Travel Channel, so my Situational Awareness Radar is immediately set to high.
From the outside it looked just like any other nice club we’ve been to, but immediately upon entering the main hall my eyes went saucer-wide. The place was HUGE. A giant dark hall, easily 10,000 sq ft or more with ceilings that had to be five or 6 stories up. And the scene… There are perimeter bars stationed all the way around the edges, a huge show stage at the front with a fashion-style catwalk extending straight out, and another high semi-circular catwalk that runs from the corner of the long back wall bar out to the center of the hall and back to the other corner. The music is blasting, the lights are flashing and there are many hundreds if not easily a thousand people in here partying like it’s the last days of their life. We are taken to a table where the balance of our kind hosts await and greet us like long lost children, and are then in turn introduced to our team of hostesses. Much like the Karaoke bar experience, you are assigned a team of girls to pour your drinks, play dice, dance with and generally see to it that you are entertained. I can’t help noticing that there are however at least 6 or 8 of them, so much is going on that I can’t be sure, but we are only 4 men in the group, so there is most definitely a surplus in the hostess-to-guy ratio. And they seem rather keen on outdoing one another to get our attention. Which isn’t terribly hard to do, as reputed, the Thai girls are stunning. Imagine the typical petite regional frame, but with Euro style fender flares and, um, lots more cubic displacement. They are like the Type-R of Asian women.
I struggle in how to describe the overall formula. The recipe seems to be: take equal parts FTV, dance club, rock concert and Playboy mansion party, put in blender and set to liquefy. Once again Ray looks over at me as if to say “uh, what’s the deal????”. I have no more answers than I did the first time.
One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
Just as we are trying to take this all in, the huge stage at the front comes alive, and announcements are made in rapid-fire Thai. I have no idea what is said, but the next thing we know the music is pumping again and a veritable Broadway-style cabaret show starts up with costumed guys and girls dancing all over to a musical number, glittery stuff flying in the air, lights all over the place. Just as suddenly as it started, it transforms into a fashion show and at least a hundred girls or more parade out in an endless variety of evening fashions. Once over, the regular DJ program returns, then groups of hostesses take turns getting up on the big semi-circular back catwalk and put on their own show, one that makes the Coyote Ugly girls gig look like a pre-schoolers’ review. Then back on the main stage a full-blown pop concert breaks out with a surprising talented band and, of course, go-go dancers…
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me
Murray sure got that part right.
I still can’t believe I’m seeing all this in one place. Ultimately we just go with the flow, dance, drink, play dice and enjoy the scene. And yes, I did use “we” and “dance” in the same sentence, meaning I personally witnessed something I imagined not possible, Mr. O’Regan grinding it out to Black Eyed Peas. Had there been a fax handy I'd have issued a press release.
Along the way I have one of the coolest experiences of the trip – as if this place alone didn’t define cool experiences – I meet a fellow from Singapore who seems to know our hosts quite well and soon we are all exchanging shots. I learn that he works for Audi, and is on his way back to Singapore from the head office in Germany, just back from the model introduction of the new S5. Cool! We start blabbing about – what else - our cars…
“I have an old B5 gen A4 Quattro” I say.
“Me too! 1.8T” he says.
“Me too, man! I switched up to the K04 turbo, much quicker” I say.
“No way, me too! Let me guess" says he, "you have APR 2.5 inch exhaust and downpipe?”
“YEAH! You too?”
“YEAH! MTM chip too” he says.
I still can’t believe I’m seeing all this in one place. Ultimately we just go with the flow, dance, drink, play dice and enjoy the scene. And yes, I did use “we” and “dance” in the same sentence, meaning I personally witnessed something I imagined not possible, Mr. O’Regan grinding it out to Black Eyed Peas. Had there been a fax handy I'd have issued a press release.
Along the way I have one of the coolest experiences of the trip – as if this place alone didn’t define cool experiences – I meet a fellow from Singapore who seems to know our hosts quite well and soon we are all exchanging shots. I learn that he works for Audi, and is on his way back to Singapore from the head office in Germany, just back from the model introduction of the new S5. Cool! We start blabbing about – what else - our cars…
“I have an old B5 gen A4 Quattro” I say.
“Me too! 1.8T” he says.
“Me too, man! I switched up to the K04 turbo, much quicker” I say.
“No way, me too! Let me guess" says he, "you have APR 2.5 inch exhaust and downpipe?”
“YEAH! You too?”
“YEAH! MTM chip too” he says.
Mine is Neuspeed, but it’s all good. Big grins and high fives ensue. How freaky is this?
We exchange more shots, high fives and compare more notes on the place, the girls, the new S5 as well as the rest of our collective universe. It’s like I’ve known this guy for years. I knew I would meet cool people over here, but I am blown away by the fact I have an Asian twin brother. Afterwards in the sudden stark tranquility of the hotel room, I sit staring out the window at the city lights and wonder how many people from vastly different cultures might have similar experiences if only they had the chance to get out a little more. And how many might then think twice before making crude comments or ignorant assumptions. It proves one thing to me that I've suspected all along, though. We are almost certainly all more alike than we imagine, and with the blistering speed of modern communication continue to become more so each day. If more people would take a minute to realize this, there might one day be hope for our tormented little blue ball in space.
We exchange more shots, high fives and compare more notes on the place, the girls, the new S5 as well as the rest of our collective universe. It’s like I’ve known this guy for years. I knew I would meet cool people over here, but I am blown away by the fact I have an Asian twin brother. Afterwards in the sudden stark tranquility of the hotel room, I sit staring out the window at the city lights and wonder how many people from vastly different cultures might have similar experiences if only they had the chance to get out a little more. And how many might then think twice before making crude comments or ignorant assumptions. It proves one thing to me that I've suspected all along, though. We are almost certainly all more alike than we imagine, and with the blistering speed of modern communication continue to become more so each day. If more people would take a minute to realize this, there might one day be hope for our tormented little blue ball in space.
Or maybe we just need to get all those uptight megalomaniacs in charge of world politics out to this club for one night...
Daybreak arrives, and I am feeling the pain. Not so much from the partying, but the lack of steady, quality sleep, and the intense speed with which we are doing things. I am living solely for the fact that we actually have no official plans tomorrow, something that hasn’t happened for us in nearly two weeks. We proceed with our plant visit, and despite my weary state I am awed. This one is long, very thorough and highly impressive, the highlight of the business side of our trip.
Daybreak arrives, and I am feeling the pain. Not so much from the partying, but the lack of steady, quality sleep, and the intense speed with which we are doing things. I am living solely for the fact that we actually have no official plans tomorrow, something that hasn’t happened for us in nearly two weeks. We proceed with our plant visit, and despite my weary state I am awed. This one is long, very thorough and highly impressive, the highlight of the business side of our trip.
Once done, we take a late lunch out in the countryside in the most remote restaurant to date. Lee Ming is very curious to see how Ray will stand up to genuine Thai cooking, I am excited just to finally get the real deal, no poofy, westernized-for-your-protection stuff here. The food is a variety of traditional Thai stuff, with the main course being BBQ’d prawns, essentially giant shrimp about 6 – 7 inches long cooked whole. They’re pretty ugly with their beady little eyes and millipede-like legs, but tasty, especially when dunked in the excellent spicy sauce. Ray does OK, actually trying most of the stuff that comes around. About the time we finish it clouds over and starts to rain. And I don’t mean rain like we get at home. I mean the sky just opens up and lets rip, a veritable Monsoon style rain. The individual drops look like they would each fill a shot glass. We run to get into the car and in the 5 or 6 seconds required to do so our clothes are completely soaked through; water drips all over the interior of Patra’s Accord.
The ride back to the hotel is uneventful; save for the last hour it takes us to go 5 kilometers or so. Traffic here truly is intense. What’s interesting though is they seem to be doing something about it, there are whole new sections of elevated rail lines and expressways being built all over the place, and just like Shanghai building construction is everywhere. Later that night when we head out to dinner we see hundreds of workers welding, sawing and hammering away at a huge office tower site, lights blazing away. Progress is everywhere, and many folks here wonder why we aren’t on the same page. We tell them we don’t have the money to fix our existing busted up and tired infrastructure, let alone build stuff on a scale like this. Sad.
Dinner was Italian this time. I know, we’re in Thailand, but why not? I suspect Lee Ming is rewarding Ray for surviving the mutant prawns. The food is excellent; I have veal pamigianna that is as good as anything at home. Do these people do anything poorly??
We eventually head back to the hotel for one of the trip’s few extended sleeps.
Praise Budha.
Saturday we are picked up at the reasonable hour of 11:00 and the girls take us on the tour of the town. I don’t care where we go, ‘long as I can switch my brain off for a while. Now being an official card-carrying member of the Hog fray, Ray wants to go see the Harley dealer – yes, you read that right, there is a Harley dealer in Bangkok. I tell you, you can get anything in this town. Still kind of amazing, really though, because I’ve been watching for a day and a half and have yet to see anything bigger than a 150cc bike here.
We show the map to Patra, who is a great driver, speedy and smooth, my favorite combo, but self-admittedly not the best in navigating the vast city. Hard to fault her for it, the place is only 3 times the size of Montreal. Probably bigger. She says she can find the neighborhood, then drive around ‘till we locate it. Fine by us, we get to see the local scene at the same time. Low and behold, after a few false starts we find it. It is to say the least strange to actually be standing in front of a Harley dealer in Thailand, especially in light of the fact that we’ve seen but one on the road, and that was a couple of hundred yards down the street. It’s small but actually quite nice inside, with a full selection of accessories, the real HD ones being astronomically expensive, but whaddya expect? We’re not exactly in Kansas, Toto. We check out the service bay, it’s packed with one of every description of Milwaukee’s finest. I'm amazed how busy they are! But then how cool is it to be riding a hog down the streets of Bangkok?
Feeling 2-wheeled homesickness coming over me, I ask the parts guy if there’s a Duc store in town, and sure enough there is. He gives Patra the instructions on how to get there and we are off and running again. The traffic is slightly better, what with it being Saturday and all, but it’s still thicker in places than you’d ever see it at home on the weekend. Part of the problem is the traffic light system; some of them stay red for 3 minutes! So things move along slinky-style, stop, wait wait wait, then fly for a stretch, repeat. The good news is people are way more courteous, they move quickly but we witness only a handful of kamikaze style maneuvers the likes of which happened several times a minute in China.
We somehow wind up at the Triumph dealer of all places (see what I mean? They go it all…) but they then set us straight, and we soon see the familiar red sign.
The showroom is microscopically small, I think about the same size as my apartment, maybe less. But it is beautiful floor-to-ceiling glass affair and contains a surprising array of models that are well in organized considering the small space, most numerous being several examples of the positively erotic 1098 S which sells for a cool $50K here. I guess if you have the cash to do an Italian bike in this town you can afford to go all the way.
The ride back to the hotel is uneventful; save for the last hour it takes us to go 5 kilometers or so. Traffic here truly is intense. What’s interesting though is they seem to be doing something about it, there are whole new sections of elevated rail lines and expressways being built all over the place, and just like Shanghai building construction is everywhere. Later that night when we head out to dinner we see hundreds of workers welding, sawing and hammering away at a huge office tower site, lights blazing away. Progress is everywhere, and many folks here wonder why we aren’t on the same page. We tell them we don’t have the money to fix our existing busted up and tired infrastructure, let alone build stuff on a scale like this. Sad.
Dinner was Italian this time. I know, we’re in Thailand, but why not? I suspect Lee Ming is rewarding Ray for surviving the mutant prawns. The food is excellent; I have veal pamigianna that is as good as anything at home. Do these people do anything poorly??
We eventually head back to the hotel for one of the trip’s few extended sleeps.
Praise Budha.
Saturday we are picked up at the reasonable hour of 11:00 and the girls take us on the tour of the town. I don’t care where we go, ‘long as I can switch my brain off for a while. Now being an official card-carrying member of the Hog fray, Ray wants to go see the Harley dealer – yes, you read that right, there is a Harley dealer in Bangkok. I tell you, you can get anything in this town. Still kind of amazing, really though, because I’ve been watching for a day and a half and have yet to see anything bigger than a 150cc bike here.
We show the map to Patra, who is a great driver, speedy and smooth, my favorite combo, but self-admittedly not the best in navigating the vast city. Hard to fault her for it, the place is only 3 times the size of Montreal. Probably bigger. She says she can find the neighborhood, then drive around ‘till we locate it. Fine by us, we get to see the local scene at the same time. Low and behold, after a few false starts we find it. It is to say the least strange to actually be standing in front of a Harley dealer in Thailand, especially in light of the fact that we’ve seen but one on the road, and that was a couple of hundred yards down the street. It’s small but actually quite nice inside, with a full selection of accessories, the real HD ones being astronomically expensive, but whaddya expect? We’re not exactly in Kansas, Toto. We check out the service bay, it’s packed with one of every description of Milwaukee’s finest. I'm amazed how busy they are! But then how cool is it to be riding a hog down the streets of Bangkok?
Feeling 2-wheeled homesickness coming over me, I ask the parts guy if there’s a Duc store in town, and sure enough there is. He gives Patra the instructions on how to get there and we are off and running again. The traffic is slightly better, what with it being Saturday and all, but it’s still thicker in places than you’d ever see it at home on the weekend. Part of the problem is the traffic light system; some of them stay red for 3 minutes! So things move along slinky-style, stop, wait wait wait, then fly for a stretch, repeat. The good news is people are way more courteous, they move quickly but we witness only a handful of kamikaze style maneuvers the likes of which happened several times a minute in China.
We somehow wind up at the Triumph dealer of all places (see what I mean? They go it all…) but they then set us straight, and we soon see the familiar red sign.
The showroom is microscopically small, I think about the same size as my apartment, maybe less. But it is beautiful floor-to-ceiling glass affair and contains a surprising array of models that are well in organized considering the small space, most numerous being several examples of the positively erotic 1098 S which sells for a cool $50K here. I guess if you have the cash to do an Italian bike in this town you can afford to go all the way.
After picking up the de rigueur souvenirs we hit our lunch stop, a delightful little place simply named Coffee Bean. Why I have no idea, as there’s absolutely no emphasis I can detect on beverages of a caffeinated nature. The place actually specializes in Thai Fusion which, contrary to my initial assumption, is not a method of generating nuclear energy from rice but an Asian hybrid variant of Thai food.
Although neither the place nor the food is particulary elaborate, the extensive menus have big photos and numbers identifying nearly every choice, and every selection we make is absolutely delicious. Plus they have giant screen TV's everywere playing Dexter's Laboratory. Ecclectic sorts that we are, it gets voted our favorite meal stop of the trip. Ray is once again proud of himself for pushing his personal limits of Asian food adventuring, I actually saw - wait for it – SPICY food on his plate. Well, not really spicy by Thai standards, but spicy nonetheless. The girls tell us the place is also famous for its deserts, and they’re not kidding; the place has a cake counter that gives Calories a run for the money. I settle for Brownie Cheesecake, which also wins the award for Most Rockin’ Dessert of this trip. I know, I know. I gave up on my near religious dedication to the Atkins thing from around the time we got on the first plane. Between all the airline meals and the local fare it’s pretty tough to get enough protein alone to survive on so I let loose a little. Believe me, that won’t last either, I’ve easily gained 6 or 7 pounds so far. Back to straight meat and veggies when that last Triple Seven touches down in the homeland…
At the end of the afternoon we are cut loose for a while and get picked up later for a dinner with our whole host crew. This time it’s a seafood place, one about the size of a Costco store and strangely that analogy applies in more ways than one. Certainly the volume and choice is there; along the back wall is a giant neon sign with their slogan, “If It Swims We Have It”. And they mean it.
After sitting down and getting your drinks, you go walk over with your group to what looks like a 300 ft. long grocery counter, where they stock every form of water bound creature imaginable. Squid, Alaskan crab, dozens of species of fish, lobster, the locally ubiquitous prawn, scallops… you get the idea. As you make your selection a hostess follows you around with a grocery cart, finally proceeding to the checkout where you pay. The waiter/waitress then comes over to the table with a tally of your purchases and you give instructions item-by-item as to how you want it cooked.
Really cool concept; you could come here hundreds of times and never have the same meal twice. Once again another great shcoff, I realize I have no idea what I’m going to do when I get home and go back to culinary reality. Once again we are indebted to our wonderful hosts, and head on our way to our last accompanied outing in Bangkok
One of the city’s favorite tourists destinations, the State Tower is at 64 floors one of the tallest buildings in Bangkok. Please insert more superlatives here. Really. OK, let’s start with the most beautiful terrace bars I’ve ever seen. Yes, that’s right, plural. There is a large multi-level one on the 54th floor, the long translucent walkway surface that takes you outside glows an eerie blue in the darkness like something out of 2001 A Space Odyssey. Another is a circular design that’s part of the outdoor restaurant on the 64th; this one literally hangs out over the corner of the roof into space. The view at 10 o’clock at night, as you can well imagine, is absolutely spectacular. A warm breeze is blowing, I have a vodka on the rocks in my hand, and I’m high a top one of the world’s most exotic cities. Does it get any better?
Well, truth be told it would have been much nicer to have my girl with me, whom I am beginning to seriously miss. I look around the place; it is wall-to-wall couples. I am jealous… I vow to someday return and bring her to this very spot. Ray, who normally delights in such situations as an opportunity to torture me about my wimpy romantic side, is thankfully busy stocking up on liquid courage so he can suck it up and venture over to the railing’s edge to impress the girls. He is not a big fan of heights, and anyone so prone would probably break out in hives simply at the idea of this place. When you walk out the door on the 64th floor you are actually on an large flat surface that leads out to a set of stairs taking you down to the main terrace. The effect initially is that you are about to float out into the skies above Bangkok; there is no visible barrier anywhere in sight.
Eventually, we get down and he works his way around the bar. I say it don’t count unless he hangs his arms out over the edge. He looks over, looks at the girls, looks down, and jams them out into space, flailing them a little for effect. I am suitably impressed. So are they.
On this note of triumph we head out, and once at the hotel say goodbye to Lee Ming and Patra who once again have given us the full visiting dignitary treatment. One could get use to this.
Sunday finds us on our own, our last day in Thailand. We originally talk about venturing out and seeing a little more, but the idea of just flaking out and actually resting is overwhelmingly powerful, so we do.
Although neither the place nor the food is particulary elaborate, the extensive menus have big photos and numbers identifying nearly every choice, and every selection we make is absolutely delicious. Plus they have giant screen TV's everywere playing Dexter's Laboratory. Ecclectic sorts that we are, it gets voted our favorite meal stop of the trip. Ray is once again proud of himself for pushing his personal limits of Asian food adventuring, I actually saw - wait for it – SPICY food on his plate. Well, not really spicy by Thai standards, but spicy nonetheless. The girls tell us the place is also famous for its deserts, and they’re not kidding; the place has a cake counter that gives Calories a run for the money. I settle for Brownie Cheesecake, which also wins the award for Most Rockin’ Dessert of this trip. I know, I know. I gave up on my near religious dedication to the Atkins thing from around the time we got on the first plane. Between all the airline meals and the local fare it’s pretty tough to get enough protein alone to survive on so I let loose a little. Believe me, that won’t last either, I’ve easily gained 6 or 7 pounds so far. Back to straight meat and veggies when that last Triple Seven touches down in the homeland…
At the end of the afternoon we are cut loose for a while and get picked up later for a dinner with our whole host crew. This time it’s a seafood place, one about the size of a Costco store and strangely that analogy applies in more ways than one. Certainly the volume and choice is there; along the back wall is a giant neon sign with their slogan, “If It Swims We Have It”. And they mean it.
After sitting down and getting your drinks, you go walk over with your group to what looks like a 300 ft. long grocery counter, where they stock every form of water bound creature imaginable. Squid, Alaskan crab, dozens of species of fish, lobster, the locally ubiquitous prawn, scallops… you get the idea. As you make your selection a hostess follows you around with a grocery cart, finally proceeding to the checkout where you pay. The waiter/waitress then comes over to the table with a tally of your purchases and you give instructions item-by-item as to how you want it cooked.
Really cool concept; you could come here hundreds of times and never have the same meal twice. Once again another great shcoff, I realize I have no idea what I’m going to do when I get home and go back to culinary reality. Once again we are indebted to our wonderful hosts, and head on our way to our last accompanied outing in Bangkok
One of the city’s favorite tourists destinations, the State Tower is at 64 floors one of the tallest buildings in Bangkok. Please insert more superlatives here. Really. OK, let’s start with the most beautiful terrace bars I’ve ever seen. Yes, that’s right, plural. There is a large multi-level one on the 54th floor, the long translucent walkway surface that takes you outside glows an eerie blue in the darkness like something out of 2001 A Space Odyssey. Another is a circular design that’s part of the outdoor restaurant on the 64th; this one literally hangs out over the corner of the roof into space. The view at 10 o’clock at night, as you can well imagine, is absolutely spectacular. A warm breeze is blowing, I have a vodka on the rocks in my hand, and I’m high a top one of the world’s most exotic cities. Does it get any better?
Well, truth be told it would have been much nicer to have my girl with me, whom I am beginning to seriously miss. I look around the place; it is wall-to-wall couples. I am jealous… I vow to someday return and bring her to this very spot. Ray, who normally delights in such situations as an opportunity to torture me about my wimpy romantic side, is thankfully busy stocking up on liquid courage so he can suck it up and venture over to the railing’s edge to impress the girls. He is not a big fan of heights, and anyone so prone would probably break out in hives simply at the idea of this place. When you walk out the door on the 64th floor you are actually on an large flat surface that leads out to a set of stairs taking you down to the main terrace. The effect initially is that you are about to float out into the skies above Bangkok; there is no visible barrier anywhere in sight.
Eventually, we get down and he works his way around the bar. I say it don’t count unless he hangs his arms out over the edge. He looks over, looks at the girls, looks down, and jams them out into space, flailing them a little for effect. I am suitably impressed. So are they.
On this note of triumph we head out, and once at the hotel say goodbye to Lee Ming and Patra who once again have given us the full visiting dignitary treatment. One could get use to this.
Sunday finds us on our own, our last day in Thailand. We originally talk about venturing out and seeing a little more, but the idea of just flaking out and actually resting is overwhelmingly powerful, so we do.
The day did start out in an interesting fashion though, as I rolled out of bed I looked down on the floor and in my pre-contact lens haze notice a small dark blob on the floor. It looks vaguely like a bit of Velcro strap or something, maybe from my laptop, so I go to pick it up… but getting closer it doesn’t look quite right. Still in a fog, I just reach down and give it a flick. It rolls over with a hard plasticky “click” as my fingernail smacks it. Hmmm, this is no piece of Velcro. I go clean up and put my lenses in, return, and having a closer, focused gander I realize it’s a bug. A roach, to be precise. And at two and a half long the biggest one I’ve ever seen. They must have them on high protein diets or something down here. He appears to be quite dead however, so I am not particularly alarmed. I decide he should be photographed for the record though, so I go to pick him up, and he flinches. Hmmm, not so dead. Well then, it appears I have a new pet. I name him Earl. He is now slowly coming alive, so before he gets too hyper I bring him over to the living room table and try to get him to pose, but Earl is having none of it. I try to explain that if he doesn’t behave it’ll be off to the Big Porcelain Whirlpool in the little room next door. He remains rebellious, so I shoot him lying on his back, then sadly it was off to the toidy. What was I to do? They say the first rule in disciplining roaches is following through with your threatened actions, so it had to be done. In any case, I knew I was leaving the next day, so I would be out before his gang sent out a military junta to get me. I debate whether or not to tell Ray about Earl, he seems to be really settling into the region, but finally I capitulate. Wrong choice. Ray is now going up to his room on an hourly basis for roach recon.
Sitting down by the pool bar typing, I observe the scene. The variety of people you see here is impressive, lots of Australians, Japanese, Europeans, Indians, a real mix of everybody from this side of the planet. It’s easy to understand why, it’s beautiful, the people are really friendly and relatively speaking, it’s cheap.
I chill, write a bit, teach the staff how to make Kalua milshakes, and soon enough the day is done. After a poolside dinner we are off to pack, as we have to be on our way to the airport before 6 a.m.
Time to bid Thailand goodbye.
I chill, write a bit, teach the staff how to make Kalua milshakes, and soon enough the day is done. After a poolside dinner we are off to pack, as we have to be on our way to the airport before 6 a.m.
Time to bid Thailand goodbye.
The last leg is upon us...Hong Kong awaits.