Ferris Bangkok

Mellow day yesterday. Bella joined Kelly for yoga in the morning while I ran near our guest house and moved our stuff to an a/c room. In the afternoon, we explored the Emporium mall before heading to Lumphini Park and the night market. The largest moveable ferris wheel in the world is visiting Bangkok from Paris, and we took a ride to see the city from above. The streets have no masterplan, and the skyscrapers jut haphazardly like bunches of dandelions in an unkempt lawn. I'm tiring of Bangkok, and looking forward to moving on to Cambodia.

Kelly! Hooray!



As Bella wrote, we met up with our old friend Kelly, a Children's Theater compatriot from Yale. Before we got there, we stopped by the Bangkok flower market to buy her some flowers (the white orchids in the photo). The market overflowed with roses, orchids, and lotus flowers as well as the usual street foods (including fried grasshoppers and beetles). What we'd planned as a 30 minute excursion morphed into a 2 hour trek -- we walked through the market a few times, then along the river, to and through Chinatown, to the subway, then to Kelly's place in Sukhumvit. The subway, by the way, has got to be the cleanest most modern underground of any city I've visited.

Marvelous to see Kelly -- I was worried I might not recognize her after nearly 10 years. But she looks the same, and Bella and I lingered in her apartment until after midnight chatting about where we've been and what we've done, the whereabouts and goings-on of friends and acquaintances, and Thai and US politics. We're meeting her tonight again for dinner and drinks. Fun!

Pictures from Bangkok 24 August



We spent yesterday touring the Grand Palace and some of the wats (Buddhist Temples) around town. The first picture shows three stupas (like a Buddhist steeple) -- the front in Sri Lankan style (all gold), the middle in Cambodian style (like Angor Wat), and behind in Thai style. Detail photos follow -- human and monkey soldier feet holding up one of the stupas ; bird/man creatures lining the temple of the Emerald Buddha ; pairs of Buddhist protector gods guarding entrances to sections of the palace ground; me by the reclining Buddha at Wat Pho -- 46 meters long and 15 meters high.

Pictures from Bangkok 23 August


We found a guest house in Thewet, north of the main tourist area of town and Khosan Road. We took the river taxi out our first night back to see more of the city. Bella glows in this picture at sunset at the Thewet pier. A new suspension bridge (Phra Pin Klao bridge) spans the river (Mae Nam Chau Phraya) in the background.

Hundreds of 2 foot long catfish swarmed the water by the pier. Vendors sold bags of fried crackers for onlookers to throw in. A young Thai girl in a white shirt and black skirt bought a bag, and as she sprinked the crackers below, the fish flopped around like aquatic pigeons, each battling for its share of chow.

Goodbye Koh Tao
(writing from Bangkok...)



We ditched Malaysia and decided to head north back to Bangkok. We'll explore the city before heading east to Cambodia to meet up with Sharad Kaka, Minaxi Kaki, and Deval (Bella's uncle, aunt, and cousin) at Siem Reap. For our last meal, we went to Choppers, an Australian pub. Our dive instructor, Renate, a German expat who'd made several good food recommendations, had told us they served divine mashed potatoes. Her eyes widened when she said it, so we guessed it was true.

It was not. Bella's smile belies the raging pathos of oversweetened mashed potatoes.

Bangkok Birthday Bonanza
(Bangkok, Thailand)

Today is Zach's 32nd birthday, and we are celebrating in style in Bangkok. We finally managed to leave our scuba paradise on Koh Tao yesterday, with our advanced diver certifications in hand (not to mention fantastic memories of sharks, night diving, and unsettlingly good spaghetti bolognaise at an Australian pub called "Choppers")... We abandoned our Malaysian rainforest plans to return to Bangkok (Thailand is a hard country to leave--Thea warned me, but it's even more difficult than we imagined). On the 30th or 31st, we are off to meet my aunt, uncle, and cousin Deval in Angkor Wat (Cambodia), where they are conveniently vacationing from England (Mona, we miss you!).

In the meantime, we are excited to hang out with our old friend Kelly from children's theater, who's been living in Bangkok for a while and is feeding us wine and cheesecake tonight. We've spent the day wandering the neighborhood around our awesome guesthouse, checking out the national library (free internet, newspapers, and A/C--very nice for lounging, and we found many people taking naps in the comfy Barcelona chairs), the largest teak building in the world (72 rooms, held together entirely by wood pegs, former palace of King Rama V, complete with a real live crocodile in the moat), the old parliament building, and the river. We've also been sampling lots of the local street food, which is copious, cheap, and delicious. Tonight, we're going to splurge (courtesy of Gregg Grinspan) on a fabulous sushi dinner, and then go kick it with Kelly.

Life is good.

(aside from Zach -- one of the reasons I love Bella is that she uses the Oxfordian comma. Good grammar makes a good marriage.)

Monkey Monkey Monkey

The first morning at Rocky Resort, we heard high pitched whooping from the hill behind our bungalow. I thought first of cranes, but the cries came from a pair of singers, and they fed off each other in a spiraling howling chorus. Bella remarked they reminded her of the gibbons at the National Zoo in DC. Clever. We climbed the hill to investigate. The owners of the resort above us (Jamakhiri) had found four baby monkeys (gibbons as it turns out!) when they started building, and created a sprawling enclosure for them.



Open Water Team
Our open water diver's group celebrated finishing the course at Tong's a local Thai restaurant. Our instructor James (on my left) got sick the day we were supposed to start the advanced open water course, so we've started the course with another instructor. This morning blessed us with our best dive yet at Chumphon Pinnacle, with much improved visibility compared with our earlier dives. We sunk down to 30 meters to do some exercises (i.e. prove we wouldn't get nitrogen narcosis.) Zoom -- four grey reef sharks circled by, patrolling the base of the coral formation. The largest I'll bet weighed more than me and must have been 8 feet long!

The Reveal

Bella stands on our balcony looking out over Rocky Bay from our hotel room at the Rocky Resort. Bare bones accomodations -- a bed, light, toilet, and fan. But for $12, you can't beat the view.

Trekking Anthem

Zach has been much more diligent about recording our travels than I have--but I figure I can make myself useful on the blog front by filling in some gaps.

For example, on our trek, we wrote a trekking anthem that we eventually taught to Dorjay (our guide). To acoustically recreate our experience in the Himalaya, try singing the following to the tune of "This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land":

[Chorus]
This land is your land, this land is my land
From Barai Nala to Lamayuru*
From the Phugtol Gompa to the Singge La La La
This Ladakh was made for you and me

As I was trekking that dusty trailway,
I saw before me, a red Zanskar day
I saw behind me, snowcapped Himalaya
This Ladakh was made for you and me

[repeat chorus]

Then I was climbing that dusty hillside
Following Dorjay, 'cause he's our sensei guide
Is that an ibex? No, it's a rock my friend**
This Ladakh was made for you and me

[repeat chorus]

Next I was crossing that glacial river
Just like a warm bath, no need to shiver
From Hanuma La, the climb is worth the view
This Ladakh was made for you and me

[repeat chorus]

I sat and opened our box lunches
Boiled potato and chocolate Munches(tm)
Hard boiled egg and a mango Frooti(tm)
This Ladakh was made for you and me

[repeat chorus]

*Dorjay claims that the reason we had so much trouble getting into Leh was because the song only takes us to Lamayuru
**Because I insisted on toting binoculars everywhere we go, we often played a game of "find the rare wild animal on the distant mountainside" - which involved spending lots of time staring at tiny patches of the mountain that were slightly darker than the rest of the mountain and seeing if they moved. One person would say, is that an ibex (rare mountain animal related to a goat, but with large, crazy horns)? Then the other would check with the binoculars and always reply, no, it's a rock. We actually did finally see a few real ibex, late in the trek--of course, it was Dorjay that found them and pointed them out to us.

Same Same But Different



This was the name of a shop in Leh (India), and was also written on the tee shirt of a Thai man on the boat from Chumphon to Koh Tao. I wonder whether it's also a subtle (yet pithily profound) comment on our travels. Everywhere we go--same same but different. Is that what we'll be like when we get back?

Thank you, Mrs. Marcoccia!

We'll never know why (we asked many times), but Ladakh was insanely popular with French travelers. I wonder if Le Monde's travel section came out with some big story on the wonders of Ladakh, or if some French celebrities came through (we did learn that Richard Gere spent some time at Phugtol Gompa). At any rate, it seemed that at least half the tourists we met along the way were from la belle France. And, sharpening a very old saw in my bag of tricks, I got to bust out my high school French education. I actually managed to have a pretty lengthy conversation with an older Parisian woman who was very impressed with my language skills. She specifically said that I must've had an excellent teacher-so here's a shout out to Madame Marcoccia--if I were back in Ardsley, I'd buy her a diet coke.

Amul Cheese

India is a fascinating place. Over a billion people, more than 40 official languages, trillions of saris -- and one kind of cheese. Amul Cheese. Amul isn't a flavor--it's the name of the dairy. They also make milk and butter. The closest taste match I can think of for Amul cheese is Laughing Cow--the cheese that comes in those tiny silver-foil wrapped cubes in the US. Sheila and I used to get it at our piano recitals when we were kids. It was a big treat.

Unfortunately, after spending a lot of time with Becca and David in Cambridge, we got exposed to dangerously delicious things with names like Humboldt Fog and Mt. Tam. Now having only one kind of cheese seems like a severe deprivation.

Don't get me wrong. I like Amul cheese, and I ate it plenty on the trek. It conveniently comes in slices, blocks, and in a tin. We had it in sandwiches, mac-and-cheese, omelets, and empanadas (yes, my friends, our sensei Dorjay was able to cross all kinds of cultural and culinary-preparation obstacles to feed us delicious meals on the trek). But cheese variety is definitely something we look forward to having upon our return...

The Sensei, The Sheik, The Roadrunner, Dr. Livingstone, and Ponyman

After a while, on a 400km trek, you begin to develop a cartoon archetype.

Sonam actually started out as his archetype--Dorjay wouldn't say his name, and only referred to him as "Ponyman" for the first week. "Ponyman says we stay here" or "Ponyman is from Darcha." I forget how we finally discovered his name (not sure if we got it from Dorjay eventually or whether we finally just asked Sonam himself).

Dorjay became the Sensei on Day 3, when he selected the first of many fantastic headgear options. He folded up his kerchief and tied it around his forehead like a headband--looking eerily like Ralph Macchio turned older Karate master. He also began to demonstrate his sensei-like superpowers pretty early in the trip, e.g., his ability to walk at what appears to be a totally relaxed pace and still manage to get a half mile ahead of us on the trail and his ability to cross ice-cold streams in bare feet up to his knees as if he were wading through bathwater.

We didn't realize Jigmet's superpowers until we went to Phugtol Gompa. We left for the Gompa early in the morning, with Dorjay, while Jigmet was still cleaning up the camp. As we were slowly making our way along the narrow, roller-coaster trail cut precariously into a gorge above the river, we looked behind us and saw a dark dot in the distance. A dot that was getting closer and larger at a rate that defied all logic. It was Jigmet--not just walking quickly, but full-throttle sprinting along the trail towards us. Zooming up and down the shear cliffside trail like--well, like the Roadrunner. It really looked like the rest of the world was suddenly paused and Jigmet was in fast-forward. I think India would do a lot better in the Olympics if the country mined the Ladakhi talent. It's unbelievable.

Zach, with his Tilley hat and giant med kit could really only be Dr. Livingstone--he really looked like someone out of a different era on the trek. Zach, Dr. Livingstone, the period trekker.

I became the sheik after I realized (the hard way) that a bandanna covering only my hair was not going to be sufficient sun protection in the middle of July at 12,000 feet. I borrowed Zach's Einstein baseball cap and wore it over the bandanna hanging sheik-style over the sides of my head. I maybe looked more like a mullet rocker than a sheik, but I'm sticking to the latter. Fewer syllables.

I keep imagining a cartoon novel featuring all of us--the sheik, the sensei, Dr. Livingstone, the Roadrunner, and Ponyman--if only I were a better artist...

My Nemesis: The Sun

As I learned with Coetzee and Jeanne in the rainforest just outside Rio, I don't mind being wet, so long as I'm not cold. And I don't even mind being a little bit cold. But I can't stand being too hot. After several weeks at altitude in July, I know why: the sun is trying to kill me. Steep climbs and endless switchbacks are no problem--unless the sun is blazing down, in which case I'm pretty much pulp in less than two hours. I'm much happier tramping along in the cool rain for 6 hours than being in the midday sun for 20 minutes. Not sure how to account for it genetically, since I'm pretty sure my ancestors spent plenty of time in the sun and heat--but my mom is definitely more of a penguin and I think she passed that on to me.

The clouds, wind, and rain are my allies. The sun is my nemesis.

Pictures from Bangkok 11 August 2006

Just a few hours in Bangkok before we boarded a bus for Koh Tao. This is the democracy monument in the middle of town at dusk.

Mother's day is celebrated on the Queen's birthday -- we stumbled on public demonstration of support for the holiday.

Pictures from India -- 9 August 2006

We stopped at Meera's house again in Delhi before heading to Bangkok. Our visit corresponded with Raksha Bandan, an Indian holiday in which sisters give their brothers bracelets, and the brothers give their sisters money. I think the sisters get the better half of the deal.

Meera had a bunch of her neices and nephews over for the celbration.

Pictures from Ladakh 4

Sheila and Michelle pose in a melting ice bridge between Snertse and Hanuma La.

The Phugtal Gompa (monestary). The tree on top of the cliff is fed by a natural spring which miraculously does not freeze in the winter.

Sheila and Michelle high five from atop the Singge La at nearly 5000 meters.

Dorjay and I sport our fancy hats.

Two of the young monks we dined with in Lingshet


One of many locally constructed bridges...


My one successful artistic flower-and-mountain picture.



Pony!


Bizarrely heavy rains flooded out the main (and only) vehicular bridge into Leh, so we had to cross the Indus river over this makeshift "footbridge"

Pictures from Ladakh 2

Here is me at the Phugtal Gompa.

Sonam, the "pony man". His 5 ponies carried all our stuff.



Sheila sipping tea at the Lingshet Gompa, where we sat and had lunch with a dozen 10 year old monks.

Pictures from Ladakh 1
Here is our trekking group at the Parfi La, 4000 meters more or less. The first pass of the second half of the trip, and the best group photo in my collection.

Jigmet was our assistant guide. The lasting image we'll take is of him running full out along a narrow trail in a gorge to the Phugtal Gompa.

Dorjay our guide cum cook, but more importantly our hiking companion and friend.

Bella with all her hair. It's gone now...

Here's a much better picture of Michelle, Sheila's friend from Brown (who also happens to have the same birthday as Bella!)

14 August 2006 4PM Koh Tao, Thailand

We passed! Four days of videos, lectures, shallow water, and open water dives and we are certified PADI open water divers. James our instructor is half English, half Swedish. Must be early to mid 20s. When we asked how long he'd been on the island, he said, "Coming up on one year... no, wait... two years. It's hard to keep track of time when every day is a Saturday." He reminds me a bit of Ewan McGregor (sp?). Francine from Germany, recently trained, is our assistant instructor. Can't be older than 22 or 23. Taking a year off to travel, came here to learn scuba, and now is staying on for a few months teaching it. Our core group is Willie, Gillie (Gillian), Julie, and Bella and I. Willie and Gillie are traveling together from Ireland. Not dating - met at a wedding and both headed in this direction. Willie has a poorly healed scar across his left cheek. He was hit in the face with a bottle during a bar fight, and tells me he "left hospital" before it could be fixed properly. Thai doctors in Bangkok would fix it for a few hundred Baht (10s of dollars) but he's used to it and may leave it alone. Gillie doesn't speak much, so her story is a bit less clear. Julie is English, also on gap year, and will head next to Australia. Friendly, outgoing, winning smile.

We may spend a few more days here before moving south to Malaysia. Bella is excited to explore more of the island. I'd be up for more diving, but otherwise would be happy to move on.

10 August 2006 11:13 PM Bangkok Time

So my idea of a daily blog has fallen a bit flat. No internet access though much of our trek in the Indian Himalaya, a broken palm pilot, and no doubt laziness. I took some notes up through about 5 days of trekking, which I'll append below. I'll fill in as we go!

Currently Bella and I are on our flight from Delhi to Bangkok. The flight is full of Indians, few Thais, handful of white backpackers. Bella is asleep on my lap as I type, my right elbow propped on her shoulder, arching around her head to the keyboard. Out the window is the familiar patchwork of fields you might see anywhere, but the plots are smaller and irregular. In the distance out the left window, to the North, a half dozen snow capped peaks mark the Himalaya.

I am hot, the stale air from the overhead vent blows minimal relief. I smell of mildew. We hand washed all our clothes in Delhi, but they had only an hour to dry outside before the monsoon rumbled to life. A Bollywood ganster spoof plays on the screen. "I want to be a big Don like you, Tony!" "Shut up, Tiny."

I am quietly excited for Bangkok. There will be more parity between Bella and I. In Leh and Delhi, Bella's appearance and her basic knowledge of Hindi made India a bit sheltered for me. More so when with Sheila, who is fluent in Hindi and has internalized the gestures and mannerisms of the locals.

When we arrive in Bangkok, we will track down the local office of our scuba agency and make arrangements to head down to Koh Tao.