Thailand

Bangkok, Chiang Mai and Kyoto. Three places I visited where the first thing I photographed was a car. True story. Oh, and they all have a lot of temples, too. This sweet little Triumph was in Bangkok, near San's apartment, where I was staying in style. If my room at the Hotel Neelam in Calcutta could be described the kind of place where Hezbollah might "interview" hostages, my room at San's in Bangkok was more like the place the where UN diplomats might sleep while doing nothing useful to help solve the world's problems.






These are images from Wat Pho in Bangkok. The quiet bliss one might experience whilst watching this restoration artist paint is how I felt about Bangkok in general. It was so clean and quiet compared to Calcutta. The new skytrain and malls you can see from the raised platforms were all so shiny and new. The streets were full of new german cars, everything seemed to work and the air felt fresh. Of course, this is all relative, I realise. But still, I was very impressed by this metropolis, despite the lack of constant horn honking and general chaos to which I had become accustomed.


Within the city of Bangkok is a little piece of paradise known as the Jim Thompson House. I loved it there, and wanted to move in for a while. Don't pass it by if you find yourself in Bangkok.


After Bangkok, I flew up to Chiang Mai to see my old friend and former classmate and collegue Suzanne. She and hubby and child live outside the city in the surrounding mountains on the beautiful campus of an International School. The temple in this picture is from within the old city of Chiang Mai, which is surrounded by a moat. There are heaps of temples in Chiang Mai. My tour of Europe back in the early nineties was nick named the ABC tour (Another Beautiful Church). Yatta-Yatta is what I will call my Thailand tour (Yet Another Temple To Adore, Yet Another Temple To Adore).


These lanterns are being lit and sent into the sky to land who knows where. Maybe the gods where, since they are often sent up in their honour. We saw this happening after the dinner and show at Khum Khantoke, which bills itself as "The Ultimate Mega Center of Lanna Arts and Culture" (I am always amused when I see Arts separated from Culture).

I stayed both at Suzanne and Peter's up in the mountains, and also within the city walls at CM Blue House. It was only $10 a night and included newness, cleanliness, towels, toilet paper and hot water, none of which I received in Calcutta for $8 a night.
The owners of CM Blue House also own the Rama bar around the corner. One libation I quite enjoyed in Thailand was the premixed scotch and soda by Johnny Walker, who battles it out with Buddha for total omnipresence in the Kingdom. These chilled wonders were much enjoyed when I was in my recovery mode. You see, I so enjoyed the peace and tranquility of Chiang Mai, that I decided I would stay an extra week or so and take a yoga course. You know, start bending and stretching my 10lb lighter post-India body. As it happened however, my body was thrown across the pavement at about 60 k. On the way down the hill from S and P's the rear wheel of the borrowed 125 Honda Wave I was riding hit a small bit of tree debris that had fallen in the recent rain. I was leaning a bit into the approaching corner and bridge and quickly went down with the bike. Because I was in 35 degree Thailand, I was in shorts and t-shirt, so it was my skin that did the tango with pavement. With my cellphone cracked, but still working, I called Suzanne and asked her to come get me. Then I looked down at my scooter seat and saw big drops of blood, and then re-examined my new skin art. Hmmm...nothing seems to be "dripping blood", so where is it coming from? I wondered in my state of shock. My face? I vainly thought for a moment. I soon realise the blood must be related to the flapping bit of skin hanging from my chin. Apparently I broke the fall using my chin as well as my wrists, elbows, left shoulder, right leg and upper pelvic bone. That was at about 10 am. By 12 pm I was stitched up and in a kind of euphoria because I knew it could have been much worse and that I came out on the winning side of my tango with death.
I was healed enough by the time I got to Hawaii to enter the ocean without screaming. I have a wee scar under my chin and some discoloured skin. I'd say I was really lucky, but that would be a lie. Really lucky would be not falling at all, falling and living is just lucky.
The stats: 1 surgeon, two assistants, lots of iodine and bandages, 16 stitches (8 inside, 8 outside), one cycle of antibiotics and a week of pain killers (not including the Johnny Walkers). Total bill in dollars: 136. Yep, that's all, in a super clean, friendly and efficient hospital (it's no wonder why so many westerners are going to Thailand to get plastic surgery). And, when I went back a week later, the removal of the stitches was free.