Thailand : Ruins : Ayuthaya

At Ayuthaya, we stayed in a beautiful teak hostel. I spent a long time convincing myself that it was OK that it was extremely noisy and dirty - it was atmospheric. We moved on the next morning.
TONY'S PLACE was friendly and spacious, and had hilarious young girl on the desk. She pranced about doing much better impersonations (in English - and much better than my famously crap ones).
We hired bikes and wobbled to the ruins. They were mostly fairly ramshackle - tumbling brick masses resembling stupas, walls and columns. Occasionally statues and carvings still remained - worn and incomplete (usually decapitated Buddhas - I can't wait to put my head in place instead for a photo)
Wat Mongkhon Bopit still housed monks (and was therefore in much better nick) who wandered around taking photos and chatting on their mobiles, and slurping CocaCola. The temple also housed a humungus and sparkling Buddha, but these are probably more common than bread around rice-eating Ayuthaya, and we were unfazed.
Liv's favourite was Wat Phra Si Sanphet, with three striking white stupa soaring from the red earth.
Wat Yai Chai Mongkhon was my favourite, surrounded by an army of Buddhas, all individual, all in saffron robe uniforms. The area around the largest Buddha was buzzing with Thais.
Worship was vigorous and fun, with offerings (lotus, incense and flower garlands) rubbing gold leaf onto Buddha images, stick rattling, barefoot shuffling, oil burning and bashing a low gong.
It didn't seem at all taboo to talk in the temple - this added to the buzz.
We sped out of town along a highway, a huge whit spire with a gold top rising out of the horizon. We circuited around to Wat Phanan Choeng. The temple was absolutely rammed with trays of saffron fabric flocking to a priest in the centre of a crowd.
He was throwing the robes up to a group of men standing on the towering Buddha, struggling to keep up with the flood.
The worshippers suddenly crouched down and scrambled to cover their heads with the saffron cascading down from the Buddha. The fabric was then reeled around the Buddha and a fresh crowd ushered in to repeat the strange ceremony.
The temple was also crowded with stalls, the funniest selling monk offering kits - a shrink wrapped bucket containing everything for the modern monk - even a parasol.
The city surroundings and manicured lawns did attempt to sterilise the ruins, but the ruins managed to retain a mysterious air.
Clambering over the ancient monuments, trying to work out what was what and warding off brick dust attacks, we felt like esplorers!
We finished the day on a salt low, which we rectified by sitting on the floor of the 7-Eleven and eating in entirity a large bag of pea crisps. This Thai culinary delight uses peas instead of potato to make a tasty snack. Liv already has plans to import them. Investors on a postcard to...
I had a confrontation with Thai cuisine that evening, when I crunched a whole chilli, thinking it was an unusual herb (It was green and tiny and disguised among many other strange herbs...) Liv got grumpy when I started downing her beer, but looked over to see me bright red with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was reduced to instincts only and ordered mmm pineapple milkshake. When the adrenaline subsided I dropped straight to sleep.

Thailand : Bangkok : Jim Thompson's House

Jim Thompson's House was stunning.
We were ushered from the taxi by a uniformed man (such luxury compared to guesthouse utilitarianism) and strolled between deep red Thai architecture, lush foliage and two serene pools - stocked with voracious looking sleek fish and rays. The house and surrounding buildings were set in a beautiful garden of thick and colourful foliage, worm brick path and hidden pools. Inside the house was dark, but spacious and airy; comfortably packed with ancient objects. Some had been adapted by Thompson - he had inverted Javan drums as table lamps, some had been incorporated into the building structure - whole shopfronts and ornate carvings.
The house had a fun feel, with lots of passageways, openings and views onto the canal.
We had to rush to get a train to Ayuthaya - 3rd class but ~20p for a two hour train journey (and only as packed as Connex)
Thai trains and buses are infested with stumbling women selling drinks, who advertise in cutting nasal tones. In English, they would sound something like "Would anyone like some waaaaaataaaaa...Ice cold waaaaaaataaaaaaa..."

Thailand : Bangkok : Muay Thai!

We took a bus at 7am after smiling and goodbyes. We were the first foreigners Tik had ever met - he was granted only 7 days holiday per year, but if he took it his villagers got angry!
The bus was quite something. Ancient and rickety, it rattled through tiny villages, the driver wheeling around potholes and all the time dealing: buying oil and selling a white powder...
At one point he pulled up a hatch in the middle of the bus to adjust the engine, smoking and deafening.
Out of sheer laziness we went back to the Khao San and flopped into bed til the early evening.
We felt very out of place buying tickets from a surly woman behind a grille. The stadium entrance was sweaty and gritty. We went all the way up to the top, where Liv discovered there were NO female toilets, as no Thai women ever went to MUAY THAI. We were crammed onto concrete steps at the ack of the auditorium, behind a high spiky metal cage.
The crowd was densely Thai, only two other Westerners in the whole place. We sat with them and spent the evening trying to discover what was going on: the winner seemed entirely arbitrary. Sometimes when it seemed one guy kicked ass, the other guy won. The fighters were extremely small, weighing about 150lbs max.
Inside the ring was all colour and light. The boxers strode on with matching entourage. They ceremoniously shed their robes to reveal fat shorts and flower garlands. They would then bow and warm up with a jaunty puppet-like dance routine.
Each fighter had a group of supporters ringside who were especially frantic.
The atmosphere was fantastic: fat grunts from the crowd pressed against the cage, relentless music and constant frenzied betting.
Afterwards we chatted to the couple we met over drinks, mostly about ping pong shows. After about 20 minutes, they admitted (very embarassed) that they'd been to one.
I'm curious. Liv is disgusted by the whole idea. I often find we reach a happy medium in this way - "I'll be fine" from me and "That's totally ridiculous!" from Liv.

Thailand : Pak Thong Chai : Thai hospitality : Silk Weaving

The next day we woke late, had a lovely lunch with Job and bussed to Pak Thong Chai - a small town very much off the tourist trail and the home of Thai silk weaving.
We checked in (out of pure laziness) to a hotel with all mod cons: air con, hot water, a bath, TV, a fridge and a terrace. Despite all this the place had a bad vibe. For one, the hot water was cold. We got the manager in, and told him "the hot water is cold". He simply agreed: "Yes, the hot water IS cold"!
We wandered into town for dinner and came across a nice open-air restaurant, with a menu entirely in Thai script. With much animation and gesturing we managed to convey to the waitress that "we'll have whatever the people at that table are having".
A dish of raw meat and seafood arrived, in a raw egg sauce. Then a platter of raw noodles and vegetables. Then a bucket of cold water, and a ladle. The waiting staff were watching rom the next table, whispering, pointing and giggling; the pause was getting embarassingly long and so we thought we better eat something.
I served out some unidentifyable pieces of flesh and gingerly put one in my mouth. It was squid, very chewy.
Just then a big fire arrived. The staff thought we were weird but extremely funny. A grill (with a tray around the edge) was placed over the fire, and a small boy ran over excitedly: "We help, we help!"
He put the meat from our plates onto the grill, and ladled the water into the tray along with vegetables and noodles.
The meal turned out exquisite and lots of fun.
We left our hotel as soon as possible. That place totally creeped me out. Apparently I woke in the middle of the night totally freaked out because there was a noisy bird on our terrace.
We wanted to see some silk weaving, so I cheekily asked in the first silk shop we came to. The owner didn't speak any English but ran around to the back and drove round in his pick-up. We piled in, puzzled. He dropped us at his factory several miles away, then sped back.
All the parts of the process were there, complete with wrinkley, authentic looking types who slogged away.
Two guys squatted and sorted bales of lumpy raw silk thread, energetically washed it and dyed it.
The dying was in a solid metal cauldron over a rampant fire, with sharp logs jutting out. The pink liquid bubbled merrily surrounded by rickety shacks and chemical barrels.
The dyed silk dried in row on row of shimmering locks in the sun.
The large shacks where the silk was spun onto reels and woven had true sweat shop ambience, with strip neon lights, lazy ceiling fans and row on row of wooden benches and grinning faces. The looms (ta-tok in Thai) ran furiously as arms and legs waggled.
We walked back down the highway in the baking sun, looking for the silk cultural centre. Later on, we were laughed at and informed that the centre had been closed for four years!
The sun stung, we hitched back to town. As we clambered into the back of a pick-up, a head popped out: "What are you doing? Come in the car, it's too hot outside!"
So we did, and met Tuk-Tao, Daeng and Pa-Peng. They were lovely. Only Tuk-Tao spoke English, but we all communicated in smiles and frantic arm waving.
They seemed very confused we were in Pak Thong Chai, somewhat of a backwater. So first they took us to the (touristy) silk weaving factory where we saw the working of the looms. They also had some fantastic photos of the life of silk worms. All parks of the worms are useful, the cocoons are spun into silk, the moths can be fried and eaten.
We then went for lunch, this time we had some guides to the menu. They were amazingly interested in Western culture and especially FOOTBALL. Tik (Daeng's boss - who we met later) knew almost all British football clubs (in all divisions) but thought that all were named after towns, but made the leap to ask if we were from Aston Villa.
By this time we were some distance out of town and wondering how we could get back.
Names in Thai all mean something: the Thais could not see how our names were just names. Apparently the names 'Blue Jeans', 'Gate', 'Turd', 'Pi' and 'Pu' are not uncommon.
We mentioned Khao Yai. They happened to live just South of Khao Yai and invited us to see their home village.
We drove for hours. We stopped briefly at a market for some durien (foul smelling fruit) and some grey and unappetising fish curry. The rolling countryside opened up against a dark background of Khao Yai mountains. It was lush, fertile green plants on orange hills round a huge mirror lake. We dropped Pa-Peng at his house and stopped in to meet his wife and baby - FANG! Both Tid and Pa-Peng were surprisingly family men, taking real care of their babies and wives. All three were health workers at tiny village health stations, so rural they were often paid in bananas. As night fell it slowly became apparent we were staying for dinner, a veritable banquet. Bottles of Chang were lined up alongside strange Thai dishes: sour sausage, deep fried sweetcorn, grey fish curry, raw gherkin. Two of Daeng's friends were invited for dinner from the nearby health stations: Tik and Tid.
One of the oddest things was how Daang had a laptop, digital camera, huge TV and HiFi; but no shower (sponge baths only) or telephone.
11 bottles of Chang later, Tik and Tid were drunk and headbanging to Bon Jovi. Liv and I were sober and tired. We quietly negotiated the sponge bath, ours sounding much less exciting than Tik's energetic sploshing.
We woke at 6:30am (after 5 hours sleep) to GARLIC NOODLES! Liv and I ate gingerly.

Thailand : Khao Yai National Park : Animals

We creaked out of bed at 7, which was when we had promised to wake Sebastien and Anna. 15 minutes later we managed it. Thais have no concept of breakfast as a different meal: "The Thai people, we eat breakfast, lunch, dinner; same same. Same same, but different". One street vendor in Bangkok began cooking by throwing a handful of garlic into the hot oil-at 9am...So we had toast. I really wanted to do the Thai thing and eat garlic, but my belly (read brain) didn't agree.
Nine taught us lots of Thai that morning: sawatdee kap and kapun kap (hello and thank-you). It is kapun ka for girls, and kapun ha for she-males, somehow I acquired the nickname "ha".
Pong was a fantastic guide. He was rolling through the thick mountains and steep forests at some speed, when he jolted to a stop and set up the telescope in the middle of the road. An eye glared back through the glass. We all stood around trying to work out which speck in the distance the eye belonged to. It was a large monitor lizard, draped over a tree branch. Pong had spotted this at considerable distance and speed. He continued this feat all day, pointing out a kingfisher, a giant squirrel, some macaques (bright pink bottoms!), a bright green viper, some hornbills, some samba deer and some barking deer, a millipede, several bird and lizard species and an enormous spider, up in the forest canopy on a six foot web. He would only explain this feat with "It's plastic, I hid it there yesterday..." or "This park, for me, it's like my office!"
The chugging of the truck was cut through by an eerie duet of hoots and calls. Pong scampered into the jungle and we awkwardly followed, clambering over roots and vines. After some time we were ready to turn back, expecting a wild goose chase. Pong redeemed himself. We saw trees shake and large black shapes swinging overhead. GIBBONS were hooting right over our heads. From right underneath we could see six, two parents, two dark coloured young and two light. He could even read their body language and tell when they were about to jump. Liv took some absolutely stunning up close photos through the telescope.
We trekked through the jungle. The atmosphere was very close and real with the humidity and the jungle sounds. We found all sorts of strange wildlife, a large spider floating over our heads on his web; and a fat shimmering millipede. The millipede felt extraordinary, its legs oozing over my skin. Liv loved it and passed it around. It tickled really weird. I dropped it. It rolled into an armoured ball, but was OK and eventually crept away.
We found an enormous thick tree, the light pouring through the canopy above it. Liv took a photo with my ears glowing pink from the light behind. The tree must've been 100 feet high and was supported by tall splayed roots. Angry ants swarmed.
We emerged from the forest onto the baked and cracked red earth for a snack. "Spicy" or "fish" flavour crisps, washed down with lurid & sickly pear drop Fanta :P
We walked along a river and came to a rock outcrop over a waterfall. It was the scene from "the Beach" (but the water was only 3 metres deep at the bottom). We took the path. Job jumped straight in and found a submerged platform right next to the pillar of a waterfall. My eyes were slits for all the spray and wind. Liv and I waded round to the cave at the back for a hug. We felt like real esplorers :)
Nine was guiding another group and drove behind us. They were this hilarious New Zealand family with a rugged father, a bright mum (bright blue tie dye T-shirt to complement her bright orange hair). They had 3 kids who were all very proud of their baseball caps but nevertheless impressively intelligent. Nine jerked to a stop behind us and jumped out. On the road was a palm sized green scorpion. He tweaked it up by the sting and plopped it onto the youngest childs head. He grinned nervously while we took photos.
Nine reassured us the sting was only as bad as a bee's, Job assured us that he was stung once and his index finger swelled to the size of a golf ball.
Sun set and we drove home in the dark. Stars swapped or firefly flickering and Pong's occasional torch flashes. Gak gak gak gak came from hornbills overhead.
This time Job stopped the car. A ten foot python slid just off the roadside. Nine grabbed it's tail and immediately dodged to avoid a pounce. Camera flashes popped and the python became increasingly confused.
We slowly stopped by the side of the road. Grass stretched away to darkness on either side. We piled out, not knowing what to expect. Pong flicked the headlights to full beam and illuminated a herd of elephants in the distance, their large forms glowing pale white. As they moved, their shapes fused and split in the half light. After a short while one trumpeted, both groups moved on.
We froze on the way home and flopped into bed.

Thailand : Khao Yai National Park : Bats!

We crunched up to the loud and ornate cavern entrance. Inside were many Buddha images. Joe raced through a complete course in Theravada Buddhism, Buddhist monks and their social position in society: all Thai men are expected to become monks for at least one mont of their life. It still puzzles me why the Thai Buddhists (95% of the population) idolize Buddha and Buddha images so much when Buddhism seems to be a religion without a God.
After much slipping, sliding and squeezing through caverns, the torch beams above us dropped away to black and a humungus cavern opened above. The pink ceiling was studded with bats, which woke with our torches and started screeching around in the dark. The floor was thick with guano and the air was thick with the smell.
We next headed or a swim in a beautiful turquoise pool above a small waterfall. The bronzed Thais looked very much at home in big red rubber rings. Sebastien and I jumped from a rickety wooden bridge into the (shallow!) water below. Livs shirt went see through (eek!)
Our sawngthaew bounced and bumped right into the jungle. We rushed through humid and sticky jungle, glimpsing through the foot-square leaves the mountain of sheer rock leaning close.
We reached a cute house in a clearing surrounded by lime trees just in time. A trickle of bats soon became a black flood, zig-zagging across the sky. 2 million ats created a distant hiss above the close sawing of the cicidas.
We bounced back in the dark to a spicy dinner (Anna mistook chilli for black pepper)
The guest house had a lovely atmosphere and everyone got on really well. Anna, Supol Sebastien (Supol is Flemish for smooth), Liv and I stayed up chatting for hours about European Cinema on a swing bench!

Thailand : Khao Yai National Park

Lots and lots has happened since my last email. I've decided to keep this blog like my own diary, so it might be a bit lengthy (soz)...
We took a government bus from Bangkok to Pak Chong at 7am.
The perks of first class were:
The vehicle was garishly decorated with alternating neon green and pink Viennese blinds. An award to that interior designer :)
They were playing the foulest Thai pop music ever, extremely loudly, with a karaoke video on at the front of the coach. The singer gave seductive looks and hair flicks to the determinedly sleeping passengers.
So the sleepy and shaded Green Leaf Guest House (plug plug plug) was welcome relief.
We got an enormous room (more like a small bungalow) for half the price of our concrete cell in Bangkok and went straight out for lunch, where we met Job. Job was an extremely tall dutch scientist. He had a crazy complicated camera and a passion for animals, right down to Latin names and sub-species. We talked for ages about Bangkok and Thailand and him and us (and a few other things spinkled throughout) until it was time to go into the Park with our guide.
Just as we were saling away in our saeungthaew (sawng-thaew: bashed up pick-up truck with flimsy roof) another dutch couple turned up. Anna was bright and blinking and extremely friendly, Sebastien was broad and smooth-talking. They were really fun, could've been chat-show hosts.
Our guides were great too. Joe had such excellent English he talked faster than we could comprehend, Nine (the BirdMan) had the best Thai smile (that famous Thai smile) and lots of jokes, and Pong (the Boss) was quietly observant and really interesting, one of those guys who secretly knows everything.