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Welcome to my travel log! You will find here a lot more than in the travel reports, stripped from political correctness. Enjoy! 
Jun 02, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - Nosy Boraha (Ile Sainte Marie) - birthday party
I have been very kindly invited to a birthday party of a lady teacher from the village school in Mahavelo. The cake, although I am not sure of what and how made, was delicious and the half French – half English, half English – half French conversations were very pleasant and funny.
The funniest thing of that evening was that one of the girls has mistaken me for Leonardo di Caprio! Although people around the table tried to justify this, it remains well beyond my comprehension how the hell this could ever, ever-ever be! Leonardo and I are now so very different! Maybe, maybe, a few years ago that would be possible but recently, I rather don’t think so. And maybe, that little girl had a dream that one day she meets Leonardo and thought I could be the dream, because I was speaking English, because I was blond and had ocean-blue eyes and because I was handsomely smiling all the time.
Jagul, Tarzan, Betsy-Bette, Monica and Cherie were among the people at the table. They were between 18-24 years old and very friendly. They spoke so much more English that I did French and therefore we were finally sorted! It was a great relief to me, as I was getting very tired. I have never learnt French in my life and only French comedies taught few, some, I’m sure, completely inappropriate and politically incorrect phrases. My Spanish was helping me a lot, but, please!, that was my second day of the holiday! Ah, and for most of the time, I have to admit, I was not actually sure what I was saying. Never mind about replying to the right question, or were these questions… Hmm…
Tarzan and Jagul subsequently took me out. It was 10pm and I was knackered, but what the heck, I decided to sleep on the beach the next day. I was actually very happy to go out!
Pool was the first game we played at this bar on the road some 15 minutes walk from the hotel. Quite cosy bar with a wide range of drinks and music videos played back from surprisingly good quality VCR... Well what a pity that the owner kept a lemur on string! I think it was Indri, which is believed to be very vulnerable outside its natural habitat of Pèrinet. They are said that they eventually die. None of the zoo parks, including this one in Antananarivo, is in fact keeping one. Such a nice creature – the lemur, not the owner, obviously!
On Madagascar, they've got smaller balls for the pool game so it is easier to pot but I definitely did not expect to play that well to win with those Malagasy pool wizards. They actually suggested this game, so I was very suspicious.
Tarzan was playing with me against Jagul and Monica – you can count on Tarzan, always! My performance was considered too good to continue playing against Jagul, of whom I was the most afraid, not only because his behaviour was similar to Mirek Grabarek's but he also was using similar technique to Mirek's.
Table football was the second game they made me play. And believe me, I know how to play it, but it's been since I had my tenth birthday that I last played this game. It's just too embarrassing! And they are using different balls to ours, since we always used the table tennis ones. Their techniques and skills were nevertheless most impressive. They must have been training every night to screw the pale vazahas (tourists in local expression), methinks.
They were friendly enough to pay for me. This was far from what I expected! Since they took me out I wanted to express my gratitude through paying for them, they however told me that they thought that because I had agreed to go out with them they decided to express their gratitude through paying for me!
The girls wanted to go discoing. So we went. Tarzan drove us – again you can always count on Tarzan – and Jagul went on his motocross-style motobike. The discothèque was only 5 kms (3 miles) away from the bar and it was named Fatabe Loisiris. It was the largest one on the island, but not the only one as stated in guide books.
The discothèque was very folk and packed with youngsters wearing their best wardrobe jumped to the rhythm like from the film 'Jewel of the Nile' with Douglas and DeVito.
Quite a nice place, it is – although it was already very dark, around midnight, when we got there so it might have made the Las Vegas impression – stunning by night, not so stunning by day. The music came almost from the most recent top French charts (including all international artists) and Malagasy very recent top, I believe. Lighting came from late 70's but was married to the disco hut very nicely.
Then, there was the time to go back to the hotel. Since Tarzan was working next morning (like all Tarzans do – well enough of this, he is a very nice person!) him and his girlfriend Cherie left earlier, it was therefore Jagul who offered everyone the ride back on his motorbike.
What it was a ride! I seriously thought that I could die that night on that 'road' made of clay. I think Jagul was doing 100km/h (62 mph) and I was trying not to fall squeezing the edge of the seat with both of my hands as strong as I could. I eventually developed blisters!
Furthermore, Jagul, instead of watching the road, almost completely turned out towards me telling me about his life. He was really a very nice guy, but I thought that I did not want to die as yet. I could hardly hear what he was saying, or screaming rather, because not only because I was a bit scared but because of the speed wind. Well, I guess he must have known what he was doing because I arrived at the hotel in one piece and therefore became to like it even more that I had met him – possibly also for saving my life, I suppose.
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Jun 01, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - Nosy Boraha (Ile Sainte Marie) - villages
Most of the village life concentrates on the road and on those minute village market squares between houses. The houses, or rather huts, are built on stilts and are not higher than 2.5 meters (8.3 feet). Some families may own more than one, however majority is happy with their 3x2.5 m (9.10' x 8.3') lodging. So the village looks like a playground for dolls, it is so fabulous!
When I checked in at the hotel, I was the only guest there. I had the freedom to choose my own bungalow. I was very nicely surprised by the service and décor of the place. Absolutely positively!
Something’s telling me that the personnel must have been very bored with nothing to do so I guess they kind of liked to feel useful again, perhaps. Not that I was too demanding or anything. I just wanted some food in the evening and omelette sandwich for breakfast in late morning.
The beach by the hotel was very typical for the tropics. Narrow, with white sand, which miraculously must have all the essential nutrition for coconut palm trees. These bow-taking palm trees treat the beach as a carpet on which they step onto the greenblue ocean. Not a surprise whatsoever!
Some bungalows have been built on large stilts at the ocean. They are small but kind of cosy with their doors and a small balcony facing the west, providing for an immaculate sunset experience. It is although risky with those narrow wooden bridges. Light is only provided at certain hours and deep in the night it is completely dark, seriously dark and quiet. Only an odd squeaky plank of wood reminds that one is still on the bridge. When inebriated, one may land on the bottom of the ocean... Easily!
Drinks in the bar provided in the main hotel building, so far, could do very well actually, and in particular the rum arrangé – the one made with coconut milk (rum coco). It is always home made and always in a bit different way in every place. The other drink is made with mint and sugar (something like Cuban mojito but completely different). Nice, too! I was particularly fond of the rum coco, which kept me company for the long dark and wet evenings. However due to the malaria pills, I could not over do it, so the narrow wooden bridge was never a problem to me.
Unfortunately, on my second day on the island, I happened to be a witness to something I only read about before in a book about Madagascar and other African cultures.
Since the invention of the lavatory appears not to have been universally recognised everywhere on Madagascar, people relieve themselves on the beach. There was this lady at wise age walking along the beach and approaching the water’s edge. She was wearing a large white t-shirt or a blouse (I did not get a chance to advance very close) and a large yellow scarf, used as a skirt. She definitely saw me walking towards her with my sexy camera but just covered herself with the scarf she was wearing so she could not see me and did what she had to do. I was so happy the thing she was doing did not last very long! She never thought of waiting until I was gone and could not see her and just went with her ‘business’ right in front of my eyes.
I read about this belief that some tribes believe it is perfectly all right to make love in public, but to hide when removing impurities from the body. Also, it was enough to just cover oneself in order to be unable to see as according to the belief, others would not be able to see the person at all. Unfortunately I was able to see everything and the view was, for the lack of a better word, interesting.
Food, again at the hotel, was so far very good. Particularly all those different soups, ducks and zébu! I could not wait for seafood, though!! As promised by the chef, I got enough of it and quickly understood why the ocean believed to be is sacred!
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May 31, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - Antananarivo, the capital city
The capital city of Madagascar strikes with its size and location. It is relatively big and located on several hills densely populated by people living in tightly packed buildings, constructed close one to another. The architecture also differs and the various styles mishmash makes an incredible sight.
The only sensible way to get to town is to take a taxi. The ride may take from 30 minutes to one hour depending on traffic and on how the driver is incentivised. It may cost from 60,000 to 35,000 MGF – Malagasy francs (60 – 35 French francs) depending on the time of the day and negotiation skills.
At the airport just after arrival, I met two Britons with whom I shared the taxi so it did not matter too much that we overpaid a bit. The funny thing was that the taxi driver wanted to be paid 5 minutes before we reached the destination, like he would like to hide something or avoid being seen in public that he was taking the money. He was actually quite an arsehole claiming to be a driver of an official taxi with an official taxi rate of 59,650 MGF to town while there were no official rates and the ‘unofficial’ taxi drivers demanded from 50,000 downwards. It was very easy to negotiate down to 35,000 with any of them.
I felt like I lost another day travelling as before I reached the town it was already completely dark. This is what happens to non-direct flight travellers. Hotel Jean Laborde was therefore the first choice in a safe area. It was not too expensive (125,000 MGF) with excellent facilities, hot water, clean bathroom and an excellent French restaurant. The restaurant was somewhat legendary in the town and usually got crowded in the night. It is empty before 7pm but the chef will prepare a dish for you perhaps just out of boredom. Be prepared for thick juicy rare steak, which dominates the menu listing. Fish was possible but somehow no-one would necessarily let their hand be cut off to guarantee the freshness of any of the fish dishes served there. How bizarre, no?
Rachel and Pete, whom I met on the airport, suggested that maybe we should go dining together. They were strict vegetarians and only ate eggs, so the range of restaurants dropped dramatically since Malagasy are not fond of vegetarian cooking. Although some vegetarians eat seafood, which on Madagascar is excellent, this was not the case.
We decided to eat in a very small, looking like a private home almost restaurant, serving pizza. For the starter, I ordered something made of prawns in an unidentified white mass and I regretted it very much. Fortunately I was able to kill the bad taste with the seafood pizza, which was up to standards.
I cannot possibly overemphasise how frightened I was about my holiday. It was my first meal on Madagascar and I was shitting myself over the cloudy perspective what I was going to eat for the rest of my stay. That was not funny at all. I just kept repeating to myself that this simply must have been bad choice of the restaurant.
Then, Pete remembered that in the neighbourhood, there should be a popular bar where we could try beverages from the local brewery called Star. The brewery produces a range of soft drinks, including a very good Tonic and Three Horses Beer, usually abbreviated to THB. It is a bit funny name, because it is in English, which is not widely spoken on Madagascar and there are not very many horses on the island either.
The name of the place is La Boussole. La Boussole is an excellent French brasserie and French-Malagasy bar in the town centre (21 rue du Docteur Villette, Isoraka, BP 3650, 101 Antanarivo, tel: +261 20 22 35810, e-mail: bernard@malagasy.com) almost opposite the Japanese Embassy. It plays very good and atmospheric music making it an ideal place for eating, drinking and hanging around. The food is better than perfect and the service is simply the best. Seafood is fantastic but it is nowhere near as good as everything made from Zebú, and particularly any type of steak. It is also, most probably due its quality, very popular among the vazahas.
The bar tender, Johann (French with Polish origin – father comes from Katowice area) is a star, not only does he play this top quality music (like Maxwell, for example), but also is very attentive, fast and efficient. He takes care of everything: the bar, the bar tables, there is no problem for him to order food from the next room brasserie, he will organise a snack when the brasserie is still closed (opens at 7pm), and takes care of the music of course. People who come there say that they would immediately and unconditionally take him to straight their countries.
What also impressed me there was the availability of the Belgian beers Leffe and Hoegarden. It is been a real curse with Belgium, I have just spent almost a year on project there, then on my holiday on the Malagasy planes people fed me with Belgian crackers and in one of the best bars in the Malagasy capital town they encouraged me to drink Belgian beer. Unbelievable!
People say that this brasserie/bar could be anywhere in the world, because apart from paintings and pictures on the wall, which are changed every now and again, nothing would suggest that this place was on Madagascar. The crowd was in vast majority expatriate and it could really be anywhere in France, Cuba, the USA, in the mountains in Poland, Norway, Slovenia, Andorra or Spain. The deco was basic and based primarily on wood. It fitted perfectly!
In the downtown of Isoraka, one of the central districts of Antananarivo, there are some decent shops and surprisingly good quality hotels, like Colbert or Ibis. There is Champion supermarket accepting visa cards and all kinds of banks with all different levels of service; from very slow – taking up from 5 hours to process a cash advance on a credit card to extremely efficient, stealing just a minute of your time.
The centre is also packed with street traders, beggars and taxis – old Renault 4L.
As being situated on few large hills, it is difficult to believe, but the city of Antananarivo is dominated by a royal castle, or, rather, ruins of it. The Royal Castle of Rova, at the top of the Rova hill is very impressive although it burned down few years ago and no longer shines with glory over the city. However, the ruins do look impressive. One can imagine how magnificent the castle must have looked like when it was in full glory. One should remember that Madagascar has always been one of the poorest countries in the world. So it must have taken a lot of effort to build a castle of such a scale.
The hike to the top is, in contradiction what the travel guides state, very easy and the route passes some excellent examples of architecture, including number of museums, smaller castles and palaces, university and lyceum (high school) full of young organic material…
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May 31, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - Nosy Boraha (Ile Sainte Marie)
Nosy Boraha is the Malagasy name for an island, which really is known as Île Sainte Marie. No-one in fact uses the local name though. That was my immediate destination after spending just one night in this fascinating country.
The connection with the main land is either by airplane from number of different places or by boat from a very little village on the east cost. Recently, however both of the boats that used to serve the route sunk and the alternative option would only be chartering a private pirogue, which is commonly recognised as unsafe. There are yet people who insist that this is rather adventurous and not dangerous.
I chose to fly even though the flight was claimed to be completely full. This is how they usually appear in the system. Since there is no requirement to make any payment upon making a reservation, many people just do not turn up, creating fictitious occupancy. I tried to get on this flight still back in London, but they would not sell it to me because the system would not allow too much overbooking. There is actually never overbooking with Air Madagascar – the system does not allow it. It does allow for waiting list but only first twenty people.
So, the trick is to arrive at the airport early and convince the personnel to increase the waiting list. The rest is just too easy. Uh, oh this is because there is almost always certainly a free seat left.
When I pleaded at the check-in two hours before the scheduled departure and then boarded the aircraft it showed that in fact the plane was half-empty! I cannot possibly express how bored I was there sitting on a plastic chair in the domestic terminal for two hours. For nothing! I could have slept until 7:30 in the morning, instead. I wish I could describe, but there are no words.
The scenery viewed from the plane was spectacular! It made up to me.
The flight was quick and pleasant. Mountains in central Madagascar look very promising from the air. Abandoned, empty – gagging for being explored, stepped on. I felt like my holiday finally began.
When I landed on the island, I knew what I forgot to do before I left the hotel in Antananarivo. I forgot to re-pack my Polaroid camera, which I took to take the instant photos of the kids in the villages. I left in a hurry from my London flat, after just coming back from the office and nearly forgot to pack the camera in the first place, so I just slotted it in the top zipper pocket of the rucksack.
Well, the camera must have got stolen on the Ivato airport – I realised that immediately after I landed on Nosy Boraha. I don’t know how, it just flashed in my head. Well, that must have not been difficult at all. My bag was just sitting there for two hours on this empty airport and I am sure the porters were at least as bored as I was. There was absolutely nothing that could possibly stop them rummaging through my stuff.
The upper zipper pocket of my rucksack could not be an easier target. Mind you, you would imagine, they could be challenged by something more exigent. Unsecured upper zipper pocket?!
The Nosy Boraha airport is not an airport, it is just the island’s only piece of asphalt that just serves the purpose of an airfield. It is completely unsecured, I wandered there several time later on. Anyone can step on the tarmac, no problem – great place for a suicide!
The “terminal” is just a small, minute hut. Apart from a large industrial scales and a wooden desk, there is nothing there inside. Outside, just small provisional shop with coconut rum – some kind of souvenir shop. That was everything I expected from Madagascar!
Then, I was taken by a driver from a hotel where I made a booking. We drove through little villages along the sandy track, little palm-tree and bamboo houses of the local people standing amongst the green banana trees, hidden in the large green leaves, along this deep redbrown sandy road – exactly what I expected from Madagascar!
The villages on the way from Nosy Boraha airport are extremely picturesque with so much exotic spirit and tranquillity that it makes a simple human being, like me, dangerously breathless.
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May 30, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - flying out - JNB -TNR
The real African holiday adventure started right at the gate for the flight to Antananarivo. It suddenly appeared that the flight is not operated by Air Madagascar as stated in my ticket but by Air Austral, a French company from the Indian Ocean.
This flight was actually to Reunion but fortunately via Antananarivo. A bit run down aircraft with not a lot of legroom between seats took me from South Africa to Madagascar. I have to admit that I did not expect it to take so long. I think the flight was approximately four hours long.
The food was, hmm... interesting, including Kerrugold – Pure Irish Butter, for example. That was however the only think that I could recognise though.
Flight full of people, interesting individuals, including Sri Lankans, Chinese delegation from Beijing, Americans, French, British, some unidentified beings of a peculiar kind of UFO looks and a complete Malagasy boysband comprising of short (145 cm, 4.7'), cute black guys with large snow-white teeth and hair over dyed to the colour of medium mature Safeway’s label cheddar cheese – an interesting combination. This band brought my memories from the eighties of the last century. That was the time when boys in my country started dying their hair in a Kajagoogoo’s Limahl style. Not too shy! Isn’t a pattern that fashion in clothes and music comes back every twenty years?
This time everyone, I'm sure, was ever so happy to sit in the economy class since most of the 15 seats in business class were taken by the Beijing delegation, who, putting it gently, just couldn't behave. Well no surprise, the Chinese arrogance is well known or should I rather say infamous.
This uncomfortable flight was quite long, almost four hours over water with not particularly interesting views, with perhaps some exception to Swaziland, Lesotho and Maputo, the capital city of Mozambique. To me the flight was getting longer and longer with every minute as I was itching to finally step on the Malagasy land.
I am sure that if I said that places to which I always wanted to go usually do not look like I imagined them, I would not be the only one with such feeling. This was definitely the case with Madagascar. I expected an undeveloped wild green tropical land full of palm trees and mountains all over. Not much of anything else. Uh, yes and baobabs.
How surprised was I when I finally landed just about at sunset time! There were traces of civilisation. There was a building of the airport terminal and some other buildings in the background! Hmmm… well, I have to admit that it felt definitely very strange and exotic. Not so much because of the nature and landscape (not then, yet) but the entire feeling in the air that night.
Antananarivo (Tana) Ivato International airport is a compact and unsophisticated terminal divided in two, international and domestic halls. The very astonishing thing is the passport control. Naturally divided in groups: residents, non-residents with visa and non-residents without visa. In one booth – three people, each one needing to see your passport and re-write, as what it seems, the entire content of it. In fact they rewrite only some of the information given there. Yet it makes one think about hidden unemployment, an economics phenomenon I learned about in Poland, Soviet Union and Democratic Deutschland Republic in the seventies and eighties of the twentieth century.
The utterly surprising thing was that the third person when giving me my passport back said 'dziekuje' (thank you in Polish) and I thought – now, this is enough – why do I have to go so far to avoid the everywhere present Polish language and fail completely. This planet was supposed to be larger!
The customs may occasionally look through the luggage, but if one has a backpack then they do not really want to unpack it and make too much mess.
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May 29, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - flying out - LHR - JNB
The check-in was tricky because the plane was empty and the lady would not upgrade me to the business class. I used all my charm and it must have worked fine because she promised not to check anyone more in my row so I could travel in completely horizontal position for the entire trip. Sweet!
The staff of South African Airways was very friendly and extremely polite. I think it was the best flight service I have ever happened to experience. The food also was not bad, as for the plane, and the choice was reasonably difficult. The drink, however, was not in a very good choice, but given the recent warnings about the economy class syndrome affecting people being on a long trip, I refrained from alcohol beverages and stuck to water and juice.
The two films that they showed, I have already seen: ‘Chocolate’ and ‘The Wedding Planner’. The South African Airways have made a very good impression and it was important as it was my first time with them.
The 11h journey was pleasant mainly because of the fact that the personnel were genuinely friendly and attentive plus the entire time I spent in a completely horizontal position. It has been a very long time now since I made such a long journey in such a position. It must be since, if I remember well, the Warszawa – Kiev train trip back in 1987 and 1985 in a sleeper train. Also, I cannot recall when I was so fortunate to take-off and land punctually.
The plane was beautiful, Boeing 747-200. Plenty of room, toilets and flight stability – I think it was shaking a bit at night but one could hardly fear it. That was again my first time in the Jambo-jet so I was thrilled as soon as I stepped on board. I could not actually believe the length of the wings and how they moved during the flight; slowly in a wavy rhythmical way, up and down, up and down, but yet holding two fair size engines.
The morning was marvellous, the view from the window is just exquisite and maybe only the Alps in Europe can perhaps compete with the African unbelievable lakes, the jungle, the savannah, the desert, the rivers, the strangely shaped mountains!
The JNB (Johannesburg International) airport is a bit chaotic without idiot-proof sign posting. Well, since it is not large, although there are signs indicating several terminals, it is really one single building with several entries, it is fairly easy to find the way.
For such a relatively small airport however there are plenty of so called official porters, who even without caring your bags will follow you talking about the terminal building and then demanding money. A bit annoying, but do you really want to upset a South African from the most dangerous city on this planet?
Now, you need to remember to have your passport ready because to walk approximately 200 yards you will need it, no – you will definitely need it – several times.
First: arrival passport control, friendly, quick and rather painless.
Second: precheck-in of the luggage, a lady will take your ticket and passport to verify if you are on the list at all and after having found your name she will delete you from the list.
Third: check-in, surprisingly a normal procedure that takes only thrice as longer.
Four: prior to departure passport control upon scanning the hand and cabin luggage.
Five: departure passport control, again friendly and efficient – just much too many labels in the passport again.
Six: extraneous procedure of aircraft preboarding at the gate.
Seven: actual boarding onto aircraft where they take the larger bit of the boarding card/pass.
After departure passport control, there is a very good shop with African art craft such as masks, woodcarvings, table clothing, crockery, mugs and silly useless small items. Some of the stuff is really nice and of decent quality. Many South Africans will however say that they are all overpriced, which in fact is very true. The same quality of craft can be easily acquired on the main land for less than half the airport price.
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May 28, 2001 02:00 PM Madagascar - packing up
It took me approximately a month to study guidebooks, surf the Internet and inquire from people who knew someone who either went to Madagascar before or just knew anyone else who did. All in order to arrive to some meaningful and reasonable plan. I don’t claim it was optimal.
The principle was to incorporate laziness on the beach, leisure, some serious hiking in the mountains and the rain forest, national parks and the wildlife, some towns and villages to learn about the people, local living and the architecture.
The most important element of the trip, of course, was the total eclipse of the Sun in Morombe at the western coast on the 21 June just before sunset. The plan, as always, worked. Almost perfectly! There were few insignificant alterations, but, again, flexibility was an integral part of the plan.
The beginning was already difficult because it required challenging packing. The challenge was not the clothing, but the travel and photographic equipment that took 75% of the space in my luggage. Not only did I have to take sleeping bag which I managed to use only several times after all, although I was happy to have taken it along, but also, among other things, mosquito net, insect repellent, water purification tablets, water taste improving tablets, malaria pills, all range of different colour pills actually, trekking towels, 40 photography films, two cameras, including dreadfully heavy, but very big and sexy Nikon F60, tripod for night and eclipse photography, sun screens, Swiss Army knife, laundry line, guide books and maps.
Had I not made the list what to take over the couple of days before the d-day, I would have forgotten many, many, many things.
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Jan 08, 2001 07:00 PM Thailand - Bangkok
Thai capital city is not a joke. It is estimated that over eight million people live in Bangkok and the inner city contrasts are overwhelming, if not shocking to a European like me.
There are many parts of Bangkok, which are very busy and dirty and it is virtually impossible to cross a street on some points. But there are parts, which are so secluded that it is hard to believe they are located in one of the largest and busiest metropolises on the globe.
People movement in the city is remarkable and the traffic is unbelievable. All possible arteries are used, including the Mae Nam Chao Phraya river, which is serviced by very effective river buses.
Interesting is also the diabolical architecture of some of the skyscrapers. Not surprising is the proximity of a primitive manufacturing in many dirty workshops to the hypermodern sky rise towers and multilevel spaghetti road junctions. The architecture is diabolical because it combines Greek/Roman very classical form with modern art-deco element, which results in grotesque figures, almost like taking a piss at the ancient classics.
Impressive in Bangkok are temples. A single extraordinary thing in the bustling Thai capital is the Grand Palace complex including Wat Pho at the other side of the street. The richness of the decoration of the royal inner city is a feast for your eyes. Everything is kept in an immaculate condition, clean and bright – it surely made a powerful impression on me.
I cannot remember how long I spent exploring the Grand Palace, but I do remember there was so much to see and that I did not see everything.
Originally, I planned to stay closer to the Grand Palace, but somehow I ended up staying right outside the main train station – Hualamphong, across a small canal. The station is situated just outside the district of Chinatown – full of coffin manufacturers – bleee! When I was walking from the hotel towards the centre I must have passed a couple of dozens of those coffin places.
Naturally, there are a few places to do serious shopping in Bangkok. They key ones are the Siam Centre and the Sukhumvit Road (Thanon). These places are packed with upmarket department stores offering a very wide range of goods, from clothing to furniture to household items to electronics. So, this is what I call serious shopping.
In addition, there are countless spots to do silly shopping and again Sukhumvit Road should be included. There are very many street vendors selling dirt-cheap serious and designer label watches, including Rolex, Omega, Bauer, CK, and more Rolex. Fake, of course! If tempted to get some of those watches, which look truly authentic, one must check if everything is working fine with them, as many have broken mechanisms or the setting knobs are damaged.
The area of Sukhumvit is also famous for its nightlife, namely drink bars, clubs, discos, strip and nightclubs – all on one street, next to each other. Very convenient, I might add. The road is also the best place meet with ladyboys and to drink snake’s blood.
Food, food, food! Green or red curry can be obtained literally every 150 yards in any direction! However, it is sometimes very difficult to find an eatery you actually would like to try. It took me, on a few occasions, an hour and a half on empty stomach to find a place I liked. Albeit, those I chose were fantastic!
The food stalls on the streets are repeatedly said to be consistently very good. But a quick look at the 'kitchen area' and you feel like you would definitely shit yourself soon afterwards. Even if you had taken all the Hepatitis injections, before leaving home, and regardless what you had eaten and how curried it might have been!
There are plenty of incredible restaurants around though, where curries are like heaven in mouth! Interestingly again, Thai curry based on coconut milk, lemon grass and chilli is known as soup category (which is totally more appropriate), and this is where I had to look for them in menus of all the restaurant I visited. The most delicious were river shrimps with garlic and pepper! Wow!! I could kill for those…
I had a large portion of those prawns in a restaurant with river views not too far from the Grand Palace. It looked like a posh area and I could spot some well-dressed tourist there. The riverfront terrace provided excellent views on the river, temples at the other bank and water traffic.
Bangkok’s tuk-tuks are everywhere happy to take you anywhere. They are greedy though, so bargaining is categorically a must.
One driver agreed a price with me (50 baht), and then began saying something in Thai-English that he is going to take me somewhere else (where I did not want to go actually) and suddenly wanted more money. At that point, we even did not move yet! I only wasted my time! What an arsehole!!
I had to take another one, who whizzed me to my destination so quickly like no-one ever before and even wanted to give me change from my 50 baht! I did not let him, though. What I am saying that the quality and prices of the tuk-tuk services vary.
The most expensive tuk-tuks are those with yellow windscreen frame, and these should be avoided in the first instance. It is better to take tuk-tuks with white, blue or red windscreen frames. They all are pretty uncountable, so it is very easy to spot the right one. It will be more than happy to take you anywhere.
As I was passing through the Siam Centre, I witnessed a rather big fat event at the Skala. I quickly realised that it must have been a Thai equivalent of the American Academy Oscar Gala – some sort of Film Awards for the year 2548 in Thailand. The area was full with Thai celebrities and their limousines. I did not stay.
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