| Finally something that rivals me for beauty Posted Tuesday, 04 April 2006 | ||
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| What with the heat and all the cringesome backpackers with their hair in braids it felt like it was time to leave Bangkok. Not that it was all bad mind you. We’d met a few teachers from Marbella by way of Ormskirk and we’d also met Keith, a factory worker from western Ireland of dubious sexuality. Wendy and I were intrigued about which way he would turn, so much so we sat drinking until 4am. Sadly, for both of us, Keith wasn’t giving anything away. His loss of course. So we decided to head for Kanchanaburi - home of the Bridge over the River Kwai. We took the choo-choo and the journey was great. Every so often people would come and sell you drinks and fun-sized rice dishes for all of 12p a go. Outside the window, amongst the banana plants and Thai Barrett style housing developments, there would be huge pictures of the king adorned with flags and lights. And not the first we’d seen. Everywhere there are pictures of the royals. It’s like Iraq before the war with all those Saddam posters everywhere. Except the King looks like Gerald from any office’s HR dept - bad glasses and a sensible parting. But they adore him. When I told a lady in a shop that we don’t have loads of pictures of the Queen up in the UK she replied that: “But we love the King. We love him from the heart”. She asked another lady the same question. Other lady simply pointed at her heart and looked deferential. Twice a day the entire nation stops for the national anthem. One minute you’re in a crowded shopping centre, the next second its silence and everyone’s staring at the King’s portrait. Then it’s over and like on a movie set when they’ve just shouted ‘action’ they all go back to whatever it was they were doing. Almost to make up for this sycophancy, the Thais seem to be taking enormous pleasure in whipping the Prime Ministers butt to kingdom come. In Bangkok they all hate PM Thaksin accusing him of buying up a Thai telecom compamy and selling it to the Singaporeans for massive personal gain. About half a mile form our hotel there were angry demonstrations with thousands of people. In more remote parts they think other agendas are at play: “In Bangkok they are rich and bored of Thaksin because his does nothing for them. But Thaksin has given us cheap hospitals.” I was told. So the PM called an election to reaffirm his authority – no one else stood but still Thaksin lost out to the ‘No vote’ in most of Bangkok and the south. So he resigned. Plan backfired. So we get to Kanchanaburi and like most Thai towns so far it’s not much cop – a kind of tropical Dilbertsville, USA with pick up trucks and KFC’s. But the countryside was beautiful - misty mountains with the River Kwai meandering through the middle. The bridge was a little smaller than expected but still stood for all those thousands of POW deaths it took to build it. Monuments abound and there are immaculate war cemeteries like Ypres in Belgium. We also had lots of fun canoeing down the Kwai, going on elephants, bamboo rafting (in a tropical rainstorm) and going up the Erawan waterfall which was like stepping into a Bounty advert. On our bamboo raft we met a bloke from New Jersey who we’ll call ‘Steve’. One day we all went for a massage. My masseur was OK and finished up by tickling my feet and tweaking my nipples in a kind of funny way; Wendy’s masseur took to kneading her breasts like she was making bread which Wendy found all a touch unnecessary. While Steve’s masseur kept touching his groin and going “Big Farang” which means “big foreigner”. Steve shoos her off because he has a girlfriend. Fair enough, you might say, but it transpires Steve met his ‘girlfriend’ in a massage parlour in Thailand two weeks ago. She asked him for a drink and they got on famously. She then said if he gave the parlour 1000 baht (about 15 pounds) she could spend the day showing him the local area. Steve agreed and they have a great day and ended up, wouldntchaknow it, in bed. So now Steve’s in Kanchanaburi warding off happy endings because of his girlfriend on the coast. Wendy and I agreed she sounded lovely but, we feared, he may well have been the first person we have discover to become an unintentional sex tourist. Sound on Kanchanaburi’s streets: Bob Marley – No Woman, No Cry. Black Eyed Peas – My Lovely Lady Humps. Ben’s squit-o-meter: After an unsettled few days, a warm front of Imodium has led to peaceful conditions returning. What I saw a monk doing this week: Riding a motorbike like he was the king of the Buddha’s highway. | ||
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