Hello beautiful readers. I know you exist, but sometimes I wonder
because comments are rare. If you are reading along and have a
question or comment, feel free to email me directly if you don't want
to leave a comment on the blog. I love mail. It makes me feel like I
am not 12 hours from home.
And now on to the good stuff.
Today Robert and I left smelly old Bangkok in favor of Ayuttaya, 60km
north. Our travel today was a bit convoluted, but actually quite
smooth. We walked to the Chao Praya River this morning, which hugs
Bangkok to the west and boarded a boat to take us downstream, nearer
the train station. The only slight hiccup during travel was during
this first leg because we got on the wrong boat. We didn't realize
there were multiple types of boats and hopped on the first one going
our way. When the ticket checker came round, our tickets didn't match
up. We were told to get off at the next stop to get the correct boat,
which we did 15 min later. Problem solved.
The correct boat dropped us near the train station and we continued
there on foot. The train station loomed large and look scary, but we
ignored a few touts outside and easily located a friendly information
booth inside. They told us where to get a ticket and where to find our
train and off we went. Oh yea...and tickets were only 15B a piece
(50cents)!!! Riding the train just got that much more appealing. The
ride was nice enough as well. We brought fruit to nibble with us, but
if we hadn't there were vendors hawking on the train. The ride got
marginally worse once the train filled up and we had to put our feet
down to share our slightly small aisle. We shared with a mom, kid and
a grandma. The kid was about five(?) and cute to watch through my
sunglasses. Robert got the window, so I watched the people inside the
train, including little boy whose knees were knocking mine despite mom
and grandmas best attempts at prevention.
An hour and a half and one overheated train engine later, we were
deposited in Ayuttaya, a small, but still significant town in
Thailand's "rice bowl." Like the "bread basket" of the states, this is
where all the rice comes from. We used the hawng nam for 3B apiece,
looked up when we needed to catch the north bound train tomorrow and
trundled off into the city. We had to cross a ferry to get to the city
proper, which we did easily, along with several other westerners
coughed up by the train. This is usually a day-trip location, since it
is so close to BKK, but apparently a few others are similarly
disregarding the guidebooks' recommendations. The guidebook did have a
map of the city, which proved helpful in locating a few guesthouses.
We chose the creatively named Ayuttaya Guest House because they had a
cheap room with a big bed and Internet, unlike the flop house we
stayed in in BKK.
The feeling of securing lodging in a new city is one I cherish. That
moment when you have accomplished relocation and can set out to
explore your new environs is priceless. We did so by taking a lap
around Soi 2/Soi 5, named both depending on the direction you enter
the road, scouting food. We eventually just sat down somewhere, too
hungry to distinguish between several local eateries that catered to
the western sort, offering similar prices and dish selections. After a
lunch of beer, sprite, veggies, rice and some muu/tao-huu for Robert
and I, respectively, we set out to find the Buddha heads carved into
trees, our original, if slightly small-minded, reason for visiting
this historically and culturally important city.
The guidebook suggested renting a bike to traverse the city more
quickly; since we have only recently managed to cross streets with out
holding hands with a Thai guide, we choose to stick to the sidewalks.
The walk wasn't too daunting either and quite pleasant, despite the
damn-near sweltering afternoon temperatures, after our time sitting on
the train. We found the Wat Mahathat quite easily, nod to all the
map-carriers among us. We haven't tried to visit every single wat
(buddhist temple) we have been near in hopes of still enjoying them
after our month in Thailand and this one didn't disappoint. It is an
ancient site, ruins of a temple from one of those early teen
centuries. I will post pictures, but basically there were lost of
crumbling red-brick structures mingled with Buddha statues, most of
which were lacking their heading thanks to Burmese invaders.
What about the trees you ask? Well, a careful read of the guide book,
as opposed to making assumptions based on eavesdropped conversation
tidbits, reveals that in fact there are no tree carvings here, rather
a stone Buddha head enveloped by a growing tree's roots. No less
interesting, however, so - mission accomplished, we declared! We also
thoroughly enjoyed thirty minutes spent in the shade of one of the old
towers, reading.
Thirst eventually drove us from our secret garden. We went in search
of a 7-11, the same green and orange striped convenient store you may
know, as they are a reliably cheap bottled water source. Along our
way, however, a distraction. As in Trat as well, we happened upon a
park full of gravel lanes. Old men and school children were playing a
game involving throwing silver balls down the lanes. We stopped to
watch them play, trying to discern the rules, when an old man got our
attention and gestured for us to join; he had an extra set of silver
balls. I accepted and Robert waited alongside; he knew I was intrigued
by the game because I almost made him sneak around in the bushes to
observe the game we found in Trat.
Anyways, I ended up losing two games to the octogenarian before
begging off to find water. It was a wonderful experience and renewed
my excitement to seek out meaningful interactions with Thai people. I
have yet to uncover the name of the game, so if you know it, pass it
along. The point of the game was similar to horseshoes, collect points
by getting your balls closer to a small yellow ball than your
opponents, one point for each ball closer. Unlike horseshoes, however,
you can mount an offense, if you have the skill to do so, by using
your ball to knock an opponent's encroaching ball out of the way. My
friend tried to correct my form to improve my game, but he still beat
me easily. I think it was an unfair match because he has had so much
more practice than I, but I wasn't going to squabble about it. I also
tried to practice counting in Thai, which he sometimes understood and
sometimes corrected my rendition of the score in English. I think he
let me win a few points by "accidentally" overthrowing a few times
because when he wanted to do so, he could land his ball squarely on
top of mine to send mine rocketing out of the way, an old man's
mischievous grin on his lips.
Since BKK, our luck turned and we ended up enjoying a turkey of wins
today. Our third event, after the wat and Thai horseshoes, was a night
market across the street! Unlike the disappointing night market of
BKK, this market offered decidedly G-rated fare: food! This was also a
local market, not a tourist market. We knocked elbows with lots of
hungry Thais to get a tasty bit ourselves. We started simple with
water and fresh squeezed oj to slake our now considerable thirst. Then
peanuts for me, thankfully being corrected when using my numbers
incorrectly by a helpful young man, who then got ribbed for helping me
instead of enjoying my struggle. Everything is a joke to Thai people,
but I don't enjoy being the end of it as is often the case.
Oh! Sidebar. This morning I went to a fruit stand to buy fruit for our
long journey of an hour and a half. I ordered some papaya and some
point point from the woman. As she was cutting and bagging it for me,
I asked her what it was. She responded with lots of Thai words, only
one of which I understood: farang (foreigner). I deduced that she
meant only non-Thais enjoy this fruit, but nuanced meanings such as
this are not easily conveyed. I still wanted to know the name of the
fruit though, so I switched back to asking her that, using my best
confused face and shoulder shrugs. Still, the only word my ear would
pick out was foreigner. After a few more rounds of this, I had an
epiphany....the name of the fruit was: farang. It just happened to be
the same word as foreigner. She even emphasized the pun for me by
counting: 1 farang, 2 farang, 3 farang, YOU! This time I enjoyed
laughing at myself alongside her.
Back on track. Peanuts were boiled, not roasted as expected, but I
enjoyed them nonetheless. I didn't even know you could boil a peanut!
Imagine my surprise when the seemingly roasted treats were mushy...
Next, cockles in verde salsa dipping sauce. Red curry and rice for
Robert, with a side of organ meat he discovered later. Glass noodles
and veggies for me, procured by asking what for something without
chicken, without pork, without...eventually she caught my meaning and
offered the noodles. She and her friends who helped untangle the
conversation had a jolly laugh as we left, oish. But then. King of all
food stalls present, we discovered...Mushroom Soup Vendor! The
husband-wife duo had raw ingredients laid out, four of which were
varieties of mushroom. We pointed to everything; they cooked us
mushroom soup! Sweet Jesus, it was de-lish. They even pointed to a
romantically-lit table on the fringes of their stall where we could
enjoy our treats with real spoons and bowls. It stole the show while
Robert's organ meat curry got trashed. I was even too full to make
good on my self-made promise to get some mango and sticky rice for
desert.
Now we are enjoying our guesthouse room, with en suite shower, which
as the Lady of the House described, was not too cold. The only thing
it doesn't have is an electrical outlet, which forced me to have a not
so pleasant encounter with the Lady of the House and another tenant. I
went downstairs where said Lady and Tenant were occupied by their own
devices. I asked for a plug, was directed to an unplugged power
strip, asked where to plug that cord in and was told repeatedly and
with increasing volume, "not working. Not working, not working!" Then
Tenant translated for me, "It's not working." I basically wanted to
bludgeon the guy for rescuing me from such an imminent
misunderstanding with his painfully unhelpful translation. Somehow I
got upstairs before doing lasting damage to either party involved.
Neither understood that I wanted an outlet, not the nearby Internet
computer, which is, apparently, NOT WORKING. I am writing this post,
so I devised my own solution: sitting halfway up a back staircase near
an outlet. Maybe I should have had that mango and sticky rice to raise
my blood sugar enough to keep me from getting so unnecessarily grumpy.
Oh well. No harm, no foul.
Goodnight, all. No pictures for you because sleep beckons.
