A rooster stood on the front step of our Hanoi, Vietnam hotel as we were leaving for dinner. I asked Steve to go out first, as sometimes roosters can be aggressive, and you never know. But this rooster just moved aside as we passed. All was well.
The Old Quarter
Just in front of hotel
Looking left from the hotel
We are in the “Old Quarter” of the city. It’s a bustling, chaotic, colorful, loud, active, crazy place to be spending 10 days. I thought the traffic in Bangkok was impossible, but little did I know it could get even worse.
The Pep Talk
I have to give myself a mini pep talk every time we leave our hotel for the streets of Hanoi. “It will be ok. You will (probably) not get hit by a motor scooter, motorcycle, or bicycle. It’s unlikely you will get burned by a red hot muffler grazing your calf as it veers within a mere inch or two of you, if you keep moving. Your lungs will not explode from the thick exhaust fumes you are breathing in. Just remember that once you start crossing a street, you must keep moving at a steady pace and not look at the onslaught of vehicles, large and small, coming straight for you, often from multiple directions. If you look, your pace may falter, which is when you are most likely to hesitate and get creamed.”
Yes, it’s a lot to remember, but it’s my daily mantra in Hanoi. And it’s not relaxing. At all.
The Chaos
But it is kind of amazing. The city exudes energy. People cooking in woks on the side of the street, the nonstop traffic, the chaos of constantly honking horns, bright lights and signage, dozens of people eating while hunched down on tiny stools in the street, and ladies carrying baskets full of freshly made donuts (on a stick) for sale, having a hard time taking “no” for an answer.
Donut On A Stick
The donut ladies deserve a special shout-out. I must say they are persistent, cunning, and annoying, but in the end most have a genuine, sincere smile, whether you buy from them or not.
Like this, but carrying donuts
While eating lunch or dinner, typically at an outdoor table, they walk by carrying their donuts in two hanging baskets balanced on each end of a stick across their shoulder. At first it’s a cool look, from the perspective of a foreigner. “Wow, isn’t that interesting? Did you see how that woman is carrying her donuts?” But then it all starts to unravel as the donut ladies get more aggressive.
And they do get aggressive. We started spotting them from afar. “Oh no, it’s a donut lady up ahead. Quick, move to the other side of the street.” But, if you’ve read above, a quick move across the street is never a good, or easy, option. Sometimes they hit me (probably more like a double tap), with the end of their donut stick as I’m walking by. That really irritates me, as I don’t want donut grease smeared on my limited shirts, unless of course I have the pleasure of eating said donut. A walk-by “donuting” is never welcome.
Maneuvering in Hanoi
Almost every sidewalk is used as a parking lot, housing tightly packed motorcycles at just the right angle and perfectly ordered, so as not to waste an inch of space. This forces pedestrians to walk in the street.
Trust is an important factor in making your way on foot through Hanoi. Most people walk with the traffic, and you just have to have faith that the myriad vehicles coming up behind you will maneuver and miss you. It seems to work for the locals, and we cross our fingers and do like they do.
60 inch TV?
Egg scooter from behind
A ladder on the move
We see motor scooters carrying crazy things, but if it’s your only option, you make do. A ladder, a huge flatscreen Sony TV, dozens and dozens of fresh eggs, and entire families of three or more top the list, so far. I’m sure we’ll have more to add before we’re out of here.
Vietnam Military Museum
We visited the Vietnam Military Museum yesterday morning. Seeing the “American War”, as it’s known here in Vietnam, through Vietnam’s lens, was interesting. From their perspective, it’s the last chapter in a thousand year struggle for independence for the Vietnamese.
Hoan Kiem Lake
In a break from the hectic streets, we made our way to Hoan Kiem Lake, just outside of Hanoi’s Old Quarter. It reminded me of Green Lake, back home in Seattle.
No Vehicles Allowed
Once there, we realized there was some kind of celebration going on and the city had closed several major streets to vehicle traffic. It was liberating to walk freely in the wide, tree lined streets without threat of injury or worse.
Families strolled along, children ran and twirled, bubbles were in the air, and the occasional street musician played. It was a lovely afternoon.
English Speakers Wanted
As we made our way around the packed walkways near the lake, we were stopped three times by small groups of children with their English teachers, asking for a few minutes of our time to practice speaking English. It was a fun opportunity to interact with local kids, and we had good chats. I shared some pictures from home. One in particular, of our house covered in snow, got lots of oooh’s and ahhhh’s. It’s hard to think of winter at home when we’re in this humid, hot part of the world.
Thanksgiving
Today is November 28th, Thanksgiving Day, on our side of the world. Back home it’s still Wednesday, the 27th. I’m sure you’re getting your turkey, or vegan substitute, ready for your Thanksgiving feast.
So many flowers for sale
flowers….
We’ll be celebrating by attending a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show. Not what one typically associates with Thanksgiving, but we’re excited to check it out.
Happy Thanksgiving to all those back home. We’ll miss not seeing you this holiday!
Our first morning in Vietnam, during breakfast with a view of St. Joseph’s Cathedral, I said “Cảm Ơn Bạn” as the waitress set down my coffee. She answered with a curt “Yep”, which I found strange. Turns out I may have just told her to “shut up”. And, regrettably, I may have told multiple people all over Vietnam to “shut up”, as well. Oh my. I’m not off to a great start.
And to make matters worse, I just learned that my Vietnamese rendition of “hello” means , “I’d like more soup”. Hmmmm…no wonder I’m not getting those delighted looks from locals, as I attempt to use the native language, like I did in Thailand. Speaking in Vietnamese, a slight inflection one way or another makes a word have an entirely different meaning. Darn.
Duc, The Tour Guide
My newfound insights into the complexities of the Vietnamese language came from our friendly tour guide , Duc (pronounced roughly “Dook”). We had booked a 24 hour excursion from Hanoi to Halong Bay on Vega Tours.
Our Vega Boat
I’d read a lot about the thousands of scams and crummy tour outfits sprinkled all over Hanoi, and knew it was important to research before committing. I found lots of glowing reviews online about Vega, so we walked through Hanoi’s insanely busy streets to find the Vega main office and book our tour for the next Sunday.
Coffee, A Must
The Vega bus was scheduled to pick us up at 7:30 am, so we checked the hours of a little coffee shop just down the alley from our Airbnb, An Cafe, the night before. They open at 7:30, so we hoped our ride would be just a little late so we’d have time for a coffee while we waited with our backpacks on the bustling street.
An Cafe was shut up tight (most storefronts have a metal garage door that is pulled down when they’re not open). It looked like we were out of luck, but there was another option. Right across the small alley we’d come down from our Airbnb was a tiny local coffee vendor.
Locals Only
His establishment was the type for locals. There’s kind of an understanding, or an unwritten rule, that only the locals eat and drink at certain venues. Or maybe, more likely, it’s that the foreigners, us included, don’t feel quite comfortable enough to join in the throngs of locals, all sitting on the sidewalk on tiny, plastic stools, most often eating soup or drinking coffee. Let me take a minute to paint a picture of this scene, found multiple times on every street in Hanoi.
The One-Man Operation
Firstly, at this establishment, the stools are a soft baby blue, the kind of color that quickly shows dirt and wear. The plastic stools are akin to the tiny, maybe 8” long by 6” wide, stools so often used in bathrooms all over the U.S, so a toddler can reach the bathroom sink. They stand about 10” high and are made from thin, cheap plastic.
Little blue stools full of customers
We looked over at the coffee “shop”. Yes, coffee trumped any hesitation we had about trying out this one-man operation. The proprietor sat at an old, beat-up office desk, set sideways on the cement floor of his shop. The shop was so small that his desk and chair, and only one customer, could fit inside, but nothing more. Supplies and junk were scattered in the nooks and crannies behind and to the side of the desk, and there appeared to be no lighting.
The Seats of Honor
His one and only customer, perched on one of the many plastic stools on the sidewalk immediately in front of the shop, noticed we were en route. He immediately jumped up and grabbed the rare, larger (almost adult size) red plastic chair, with arms and a back, and moved it in place, gesturing warmly for Steve to sit in this place of prominence. Then he quickly maneuvered to the only other red plastic chair several feet away and motioned for me to sit. I honestly hadn’t even noticed the red chairs sitting on the side of the dozens of blue plastic stools, scattered willy-nilly all over the sidewalk. We were honored to accept his generous hospitality.
Vietnamese Coffee
Vietnamese coffee with sweetened condensed milk – yum
I walked in to the shopkeeper at his desk, to order my coffee, Vietnamese style. He picked up an old coke plastic bottle, which was partially full of a thick, dark liquid. It reminded me of a slightly thinned molasses. He poured a few inches worth into a small, clear glass, followed by a generous portion of sweetened condensed milk from an open can on his desk (this is the true Vietnamese coffee). He then used his left hand to reach into a small ice chest that was mostly filled with melted ice, using his hand to strain out a few pieces that would still qualify as chunks, and dropped them into my glass.
Ok, then. I’ll assume that he just washed his hands, and that the used coke bottle he’s storing his brew in isn’t too old and disgusting. Well, the jokes on me because that coffee was by far the best I’ve tasted so far in SE Asia, and the cheapest too (.86 cents). Kudos to the small guy.
With our coffee safely consumed, we were ready for our excursion.
The Tour
Deluxe Room
Top Observation Deck
Our Halong Bay tour included a memorable 24 hours on a lovely, small boat with 14 other tourists, our guide, Duc, and the cooks and crew.
Kayaking
First Cave
Traveling with us were a Chinese family consisting of a mom and dad, two boys (about 3.5 and 10), a grandma, and a sister, a french couple, a brother and sister Aussie’s in their 20’s, two young British women in their 20’s, and two recently graduated PhD’s from Stanford (in Neuro-Biology). One was moving on to a post-doc at Princeton to study how flies make decisions, specifically how they decide what fly to mate with. Hmmm…interesting. I’ll never look at flies the same way again.
Kayaking in Choppy Waters
We spent our first afternoon kayaking in Bai Tu Long Bay. At first it was a bit choppy, but we managed.
We could see a beautiful sandy opening ahead in the limestone island we were approaching.
Swimming beach – like a dream setting
We docked our kayaks and walked through a cave. When we came out the other side, we saw an incredibly picturesque beach right out of a dream. We stayed for a while and swam. So lovely.
Rich Tourists Creating Waves
Next we kayaked towards another cave. We were now contending with not only the choppy waters, but private speed boats, full of presumably rich tourists, whizzing by us on all sides. Duc told us to take the large wakes to the side of the kayak, rather than head on. So every time a giant wake was coming, we did our best to maneuver to take it sideways, but that didn’t always work out so well (there were too many coming at us from different angles). It was a little stressful.
Fun kayaking
My kayak, full-up
Half way over to the cave, my end of the kayak (the bow), was filled to the brim with water. At that point I stopped caring (and stressing) when a speed boat came by, they could do no more damage than they already had. And Steve assured me we wouldn’t sink. And we didn’t.
Cave #2
Looking down at our kayaks
Duc helped us pull our kayaks up to shore of cave #2. The cave was large and impressive. Unfortunately we stayed a little too long for my comfort, through dusk. As the light waned, I had the sudden realization that the high pitched chirping I was hearing were bats. Lots and lots of bats.
Bats and More Bats
The bat cave
I looked up and bats were everywhere. I’ve seen an occasional bat at my home near Seattle at dusk, but I’m talking hundreds of bats, pitching and erratically dodging and dipping with no rhyme or reason. Every bad movie I’ve ever seen of a bat swooping into the damsel’s updo flashed before my eyes. I’ll admit I got a little panicky. Steve was surprised at my reaction, ”I didn’t know you had a fear of bats”, he calmly said. Yeah, neither did I.
The bat cave (again)
Luckily we made it out unscathed and bat-free. I can still hear that loud, high pitched chirping. I have a slight kink in my neck from my unnatural posture ducking down as low as possible, holding a hand defensively over my head, while exiting the cave and boarding our kayaks.
Kayaking back to the starting point, we caught an incredible sunset. Finally the bay was calm and glassy.
Pristine waters at days end
Caught the sunset
Days End
Approaching our boat after a day of kayaking
After dinner, our boat made its way to the edge of Halong Bay, which we would visit the next day.
An Early Start
We woke at 5:40 am to catch the sunrise, and it was a beauty. We were floating in a serene, calm bay under a crystal clear sky. You could even see a sliver of the moon in the pink and slowly brightening sky.
Sunrise day #2
Vega’s boats head out very early in order to beat the masses of crowds. Duc told us that 20,000 tourists visit Halong Bay each and every day, regardless of the time of year. There is no down-time. Twenty thousand a day!
Hang Sung Sot Cave
We were the first to arrive at Hang Sung Sot cave, a popular, gigantic cave. It was simply breathtaking walking through the three caverns, gawking at the stalagmite formed by thousands of years of rainwater making its way through the soft limestone.
Approaching the cave
Roof of the cave
The ceilings were equally impressive, and looked like the surface of the moon. Duc explained that the limestone formations were once all under the sea, and the lapping waves had formed the ceilings smooth, dimpled appearance.
400 Stairs Island
Ti Top Island
We then boated over to Ti Top island that has a lookout point at the tippy top. Problem is, there’s 400+ stairs (not to code, per Steve) to get to the view.
My “private” beach
After our trip through the cave, which entailed ascending and descending probably 200 stairs (also not to code), I opted to rent a lovely wooden beach lounger on the almost secluded island beach in the sunshine, and hold down the fort, rather than add 400 more stairs to my day. I did send my camera up the mountain (with Steve), so it was a win-win. Yeah, good choice.
Back to Hanoi
It was sad saying goodbye to Duc and our newfound friends. Duc was so funny. He had a great deadpan sense of humor that we really appreciated. He also was quite informative.
It wasn’t until the very last of our bus ride back to Hanoi, at the end of our trip, that I thought of double-checking my Vietnamese pronunciation for “Hello” and “Thank you” with Duc.
It was pretty disheartening to learn I’d been telling people to “shut-up” and asking for more soup, when all I wanted to do was show them I had an appreciation for their language. Oh well, I had the best of intentions. For now I’ll stick with “Thank you” and “Hello”. Those seem to work too.
Our bus to Chiang Saen was an hour late, so when it finally did show up, we were very happy (and relieved) to climb aboard. We settled in for our 6 to 7 hour bus ride that would take us to our destination, in the far north of Thailand. Chiang Saen is about 8 miles south of the infamous “Golden Triangle”, where the countries of Burma, Thailand, and Laos meet. It’s a sleepy, rural town, along the Mekong River, and is the site of a former Thai kingdom believed to date back to the 7th century.
Heading north, the bus stopped just after the two hour point at a little Thai open air food court / bus stop, complete with bathrooms.
First Stop
For such a tiny bus stop along a rural road in the middle of nowhere in Thailand, this bathroom sure did have a lot of stalls. There were probably fifteen. And I checked every one of them, pleading to God or Buddha or whoever might be tuned in for just one sit down toilet. Nope. Nada. All pit toilets.
Pit Toilet Defined
The Thai pit toilets I’ve encountered to date are white porcelain, raised maybe 8 to 10 inches off the floor. The toilet design includes two horizontal surfaces, one on each side of the hole (or pit). These flat surfaces, about the size and shape of a person’s foot, have a tread of sorts, presumably to keep the user from slipping. But the treads are smooth porcelain, and most often wet (let’s not go there), which, as far as I can tell, completely defeats the purpose of having treads. The smooth tread gives the user a false sense of security, as well as limiting the user’s stance.
Just Do It
I stared at my one and only option, the pit toilet. I didn’t have much time, since the bus would be leaving soon. The slightly elevated aspect of the pit toilet was perplexing, since it seemed to unnecessarily complicate things. I carefully placed my right foot in place, checking for slippage potential. It seemed alright, so I brought my other foot up. Now I was fully committed.
The affected foot & sandal
Then it happened. I peed on my foot. Just a little, and technically it was on my right heel and the back of my sandal. The one size fits all pit toilet, with a fixed stance (take it or leave it), obviously didn’t work for me.
Maybe with more practice I’ll get the hang of it. I’ll keep you posted.
The Night Arrival
After cleaning myself up as best I could, I returned to the bus and told Steve what happened. He looked at me, a little horrified, and I started laughing (somewhat hysterically). Oh well, these things happen. We settled back in and continued on towards our final destination, Chiang Saen.
Main Street
We’re in town, but it’s deserted
It was night when we entered town, around 7 pm, driving down the main street. We were wondering where the bus station would be in relation to our hotel.
Suddenly the bus pulled over and stopped. We were told this was the Chiang Saen stop, so we got off.
A small island of night activity in Chiang Saen
There was no bus station in sight, only a bus curb. We stood, looking very conspicuous, two tall white people standing on the side of the road under a street lamp, wearing Osprey backpacks (note: yes, in Thailand I’m considered tall). There was not a taxi or tuk tuk in sight, in fact, there weren’t even any cars in sight.
There was a little hub of lights and activity across the street and a block down. Some food stalls were still serving locals. Other than that, the town was deserted.
The Rescue Car
I called our hotel, and even though the woman on the phone spoke very little English, and I could barely hear her, somehow we communicated and she sent a car to pick us up. While we waited, two different local men at the food carts came over and offered us help. Neither man spoke English, but it was apparent they had noticed us (I wonder how they noticed us?), and we looked out of place (to say the least).
One even offered information about a hotel around the corner where we could stay for about $5 a night. It was so nice of them to go out of their way to try to help us. I shouldn’t have been surprised, we’ve found many Thai to be very helpful and genuinely caring.
Hunger Wins Out
Just crickets in every direction
It had been a long day, and we were hungry. After checking in at our hotel we walked into town, about a ten to fifteen minute walk. It was strange and uncomfortable walking through the deserted, quiet, suburban streets, after spending the past few weeks walking the intense, chaotic streets of Bangkok and Chiang Mai. All we could see were the long, empty streets illuminated by fluorescent street lights. All we could hear were crickets.
Suburbia
A gigantic leaf in the sidewalk
We walked by shacks, average homes, and even one section of beautiful, fairly large gated homes with gorgeous, small yards full of flowering bougainvillea. There were stray dogs everywhere, mostly large dogs, just like in other parts of Thailand. We startled one sleeping dog, which completely undid me, since I recently was talking about the horrors of getting a dog bite and having to deal with rabies treatments with a new friend we met in Chiang Mai, Gretta from Australia (shout out to Gretta!). Thankfully the dogs left us alone.
Thai Restaurant Protocol
We sat at a small, outdoor restaurant, called Friendship, on the main drag across from the Mekong River. There was a live band playing, singing in English. Their pronunciation was just slightly off, but the live music was a real treat.
The Menu
Our server handed each of us the multi-page menu, and then stood, staring at us. It’s a bit awkward, but we’ve encountered this behavior at other Thai restaurants too. We’re actually getting used to it, and at least we don’t have to wait for the server to return once we’ve decided, since they’ve never left.
There are several other interesting differences (from western restaurants) at Thai restaurants.
Good To Know
Firstly, the table setting does not include napkins, but instead there’s a Kleenex type box with pop up tissues on each table.
Secondly, at many restaurants, including Friendship in Chiang Saen, there’s a small, wooden, free standing platform, a few inches lower than the table surface, at the end of each table. I honestly thought it was a high chair, and was surprised to see one at each and every table. Now I know better. The little platform is a serving tray of sorts, where the server puts your drinks, ice, utensils, etc. It saves room on the table and the server doesn’t have to reach over the seated guests. It’s pretty ingenious.
And thirdly, in Thailand they bring out the food you’ve ordered as it’s cooked, in whatever order that might be. You and your dinner companion may end up eating at different times, and you might get your appetizer at the end of the meal, but everything is always hot and fresh.
Rickety, but Functional
Our bikes on day #1
We borrowed the hotel’s rusty, old bicycles several times during our three-day stay. Each bike had a metal basket. Mine also had a bell (that didn’t work), and a light (that didn’t work), and a flat padded seat just behind my seat, in case I made a friend who wanted to join us.
We visited ornate gold & silver adorned Wats (Buddhist Temples), went into town for meals, rode along the ancient city wall and the mighty Mekong River, and just tooled around. Chiang Saen is quite picturesque.
The Ruins
Most wats we’ve visited in the cities are refurbished, since they are a century or more old, but Chiang Saen’s wats are in “as-is” condition .
We saw tons of stupas (huge domed shaped structure), gold and silver multi-headed dragons, Buddhas of all sizes, and glittering golden wats (temples) as we bicycled along the backstreet lanes in town.
Many of the stupas are covered in moss and decaying, which, in my opinion, adds to their charm.
The Orange Moon
In the evening, a dozen or so street food vendors set up makeshift restaurants, including outdoor kitchens, along the Mekong river front. They cover the sidewalk in woven mats, creating a large “floor” for their patrons to sit on at low tables. Per custom, we took our shoes off before walking on the mat covered area.
We had a delicious meal, followed by a breathtaking, bright orange moon rising over the Mekong.
On the bike ride back to the hotel, the moon had risen even higher into the sky. It had lost it’s orange glow, but was as stunning as ever.
Street Markets
We happened upon two lively street markets while in Chiang Saen. One was a permanent market in town on the main street.
The other we encountered on our last night while out on an early evening bike ride. The Thursday night market (I’ll call it) occupied a huge field filled with food, vegetable and fruit vendors. And the entire back half of the field were clothing vendors.
Half the town’s population must have been at the market, purchasing their fresh fruit and veggies, picking up dinner for the family, or looking for that needed pair of pants – all in what was an empty field that morning.
The Hall of Opium Museum
Chiang Saen sits about 8 miles south of the very touristy Golden Triangle area, but it remains mostly tourist free. One day we took a Songthaew (pronounced Song-Tail), a converted pick-up truck with two rows of back benches, and the only public transportation in the area, up to the Hall of Opium Museum, a bit north of the Golden Triangle area.
The museum was very impressive, with a variety of mediums to help convey the complex and extensive history of the opium trade. It was well worth seeing.
Just Wait on the Highway
When leaving the somewhat remote museum, we were told by museum workers to go stand out on the highway and wait for a Songthaew. We stood for a few minutes, but looked up the practically deserted highway and decided it might be best to start walking.
Wild Boars, Tigers, and Tarantulas, oh my!
We headed towards the Golden Triangle area and civilization, wondering if there were wild boar, tigers, or tarantulas lying in wait for unsuspecting tourists walking along a lonely highway in the jungles of northern Thailand.
Looking across at Myanmar
Actually, it was a great opportunity to get a closer look at a beautiful part of Thailand while other tourists whizzed by us with their hired drivers in their air conditioned Toyota vans.
The views over the jungle terrain across to Myanmar were gorgeous.
We made it back to Chiang Saen unscathed and ate a feast of street food we picked up in town, where the Songthaew had dropped us off. A great end to a great day.
The Language Barrier
For the first time on our SE Asian adventures, we encountered significant language challenges here in Chiang Saen.
Some communication highlights:
Check-In
The manager had memorized her check-in information, but beyond that, when I asked any question, she said some words that didn’t make sense (in English), smiled, and laughed.
The Pool
Heading to the pool one afternoon, I stopped in and saw the cook at the lobby desk (I’ll call her the cook, since she made our breakfast each morning and also worked in reception). I asked if they supplied pool towels. Blank look. I pantomimed a towel and pointed in the direction of the pool. Just as the manager had, the cook started laughing a hearty, full laugh. Right in my face. We held eyes for a few moments, then I turned and left the lobby. I guess I had my answer. I’d be using my REI travel towel at the pool.
T.P.
Another time I went to the front desk to ask for more toilet paper, as we were running quite low. The cook was there. I knew I was in trouble. I asked for a toilet paper roll. Blank look. I said “toilet”, then made the shape of a toilet roll with my hands. This wasn’t working, and I thought about giving up, but the alternative wasn’t pretty, so I had to use extreme measures.
I pointed to my behind. Still a blank look. Nothing registered. In the end (excuse the pun), I made my way around the counter so the cook could see my entire body, including below the waist. I proceeded to mimic sitting on an imaginary toilet, then wiping my butt with imaginary toilet paper. It was humiliating, but it worked.
Logistics
Our rickety bus to Chiang Rai
Since there was no bus station in town, and nothing helpful online, we asked at the hotel lobby for information on how to get a bus from Chiang Saen to Chiang Mai the next day. The cook and some random woman that was in the lobby (I think the cook’s friend) were trying their best to help us.
They started by getting up on a chair and taking the lobby wall clock off the wall. Then there was lots of pointing at the clock, and looking up to see if we understood, which we didn’t.
Next they talked very slowly to us in Thai (with more pointing at the clock), slowly repeating what was said, in case we might suddenly understand Thai on the second pass. We didn’t.
Finally, with the help of google translate, some more clock pointing, and some wild gesturing, we finally were somewhat sure we had things set.
Hopefully there’d be a tuk tuk to pick us up at 8 am the next morning, that would take us to some kind of bus out of town. Good enough for us.
My Thai
I know three words/ phrases in Thai, and they go a long way here.
I’ll type them phonetically, since that’s how I remember them. I’ve gotten pretty good at whipping them out, almost always using the right word at the right time.
Saw-wa-dee-kaaaaa: means hello, or greetings.
Cob-koon-kaaaaa: means thank you
My-pen-rye: means no worries , or no problem
I also use the multipurpose word, kaaaa. It’s like an acknowledgement, or saying “ok”.
That’s the extent of my Thai language abilities, but I apparently do a spot-on pantomime of someone wiping their butt, so there’s that. :0
Trying not to get hit by a car, motorcycle, moped, tuk-tuk, or bicycle is a full time job here in Bangkok. You may think I’m kidding, but I’m not.
I’ve read about how crazy the traffic is in Bangkok, and I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t. There are a zillion vehicles of varying sizes and speeds, all going as fast as they possibly can, with multi-lane streets, some up to 8 lanes across.
The Other Side
Our street, Maha Chai Road, at night
But the real clincher, the game changer, is that the Thais drive on the other side of the road. When I first realized this, I thought it was kind of cool. After all, I’d never spent time in a country where they drive on the left. What a novelty.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how much this would personally impact me, and so soon too. But when you plunk two sleep deprived Americans down in Bangkok, who are are carrying fairly large backpacks, then add in this seemingly minor fact of traffic going the opposite direction, it’s a potential recipe for disaster.
The Arrival
Let me explain. We arrived at SuvarnabhumiAirport in Bangkok, got some baht (Thai money), and found a taxi (no small feat).
After a 50 minute drive, the taxi driver pulled up and said something in Thai to our blank, unregistering faces. Thankfully he then motioned for us to get out of the car on the sidewalk side. Got it. We can do that.
Our Airbnb Guesthouse. Cafe on the bottom, we’re one floor up.
The taxi driver drove away. We stood, surveying the situation. Stepping out of the quiet, air conditioned taxi into the street was jarring. Intense heat and humidity rudely hit us in the face, while chaotic commotion, honking, loud engine backfires, and motorcycle engines winding came from every direction. It was a little disorienting, to say the least.
Four Lanes
We were merely four lanes of traffic away from our Airbnb, just across the street. There was no crosswalk or signal in sight. Looking to our left, the two lanes of traffic closest to us were backed up solid to where we were standing. We took another quick glance at the street and the entire four lanes appeared to be clear, so we went for it.
The Crossing
We approached the center line in the street and hung back for a quick moment, checking to our right, verifying one last time that it was clear to cross. It was completely clear, so we started our dash across the last two lanes.
Our busy street at night
It looked like our street crossing would be successful and without incident. No biggie, we got this.
We were just entering the third lane of traffic when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, there was fast movement to my left. I hadn’t even looked left. All my life experience told me that cars only come from the right. Big mistake.
The Finale
I now know the true meaning of the phrase “Like a Deer Caught in the Headlights”. All I could think of was, “We’re F*&cked”. I froze. I think it was only a second, but it is indelibly seared in my mind. That moment of sheer panic and disbelief, as a fast moving taxi, the lead in a pack of vehicles, was bearing down on us. It was dangerously close to hitting us.
Proverbial “Deer Caught in the Headlights”
I’m not even sure what Steve was doing at that moment. It was every man for himself.
Somehow my brain kicked back into gear, the taxi (must have) slowed, and we made it to the far sidewalk.
Welcome to Bangkok.
Wins & Losses
Wins
Kobkul, our Thai host
> Enlisting Kobkul, our Airbnb hostess, to flag down a taxi and insist they use the meter. We get the uninflated taxi price when she’s involved.
> Having a sweet, older Thai man give us unsolicited advice on how to cross the busy street. Motioning us to follow along with him, he walked us across the intersection. He had a running dialogue going in Thai. We just smiled and shook our heads, “Yes”. He motioned how to stop the fast moving vehicles by authoritatively putting an arm up, as in “STOP”, while walking directly out into the fast moving traffic.
> Knowing from travels in other countries, that the very best way to cross a busy street is to shadow a local. If a local start crossing, we follow along, a step or two back in their wake. Works great.
> Getting the street crossing drill down-pat.
On a busy night in Chinatown, I took on a street jam-packed with cars, attempting to cross. Cars were crawling along, barely moving.
It was apparent that an approaching car wasn’t going to stop for me, but I stepped forward without hesitation, with my hand extended (in the STOP position), like I owned the road. The bumper came within a few inches of my thigh before coming to a stop. I kept moving. A woman behind me exclaimed an admiring, “Whoa”.
I hadn’t realized that a couple (of tourists) were following in our wake. I guess I earned that “Whoa”.
Losses
> Consistently paying double for a taxi or tuk tuk on the return ride “home” from our adventures around town (no Kobkul to help us). That being said, double of 40 baht ($1.10 USD) isn’t such a hardship.
We made it to beautiful Lisbon, Portugal! It’s very hot for very late September, and I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I have a heat rash in both my armpits. It’s unexpected and terribly inconvenient. I packed my “healthy” deodorant that has no antiperspirant properties, which, it turns out, was a big mistake. And our future destinations only get hotter and more humid. How did this unfortunate situation occur? Let me explain…
It all started on Friday. We planned a day trip to the very popular section of outer Lisbon called Belem, about six miles to the west. In our typical fashion, we were determined to take public transit. I was especially excited because we were finally going to get to ride on one of the cute, iconic yellow trolleys seen all over Lisbon. With our trusty Rick Steves book in hand (literally), we tried to find the trolley stop for the 15E to Belem. It wasn’t easy. After a 25 minute brisk walk we parked ourselves at a trolley stop and waited, but we had virtually no confidence that we were in the right place.
After 15 minutes a policeman walked by, so I asked him where to catch the 15E to Belem. He looked at me, then turned away and motioned urgently towards a square, the Praca do Comercio, about 150 yards to the east, where the 15E was currently loading. He was pointing at a large bus, not a trolley, but we took him at his word and starting running through the crowded sidewalks and across the wide street, dodging cars, tuk-tuk’s, and people, while digging out our passes. And yes, it was the 15E we were looking for.
This is where we were supposed to catch the 15E. How could we have missed this tiny, discrete location?
We’d heard the 15E can get very crowded, and our information was correct. Trying to catch my breath as I approached the bus, I showed my pass to the attendant and he waved me inside. The problem was there was nowhere to go. A solid wall of humans filled the open doors. Behind me there were still more people with every intention of getting on that bus too, so I took that first step and squeezed in. Steve was smashing in right behind me. I was so squished that bodies were touching up against me from my shoulders down to my ankles, on all sides. I felt like a tightly wrapped burrito. I was suspended in a sea of humanity, with no bar, seat, or strap to hang on to. The pressure of bodies kept me from falling as the bus started on its way, but that was short-lived. Even my feet were pinned together, so I couldn’t gain my balance.
The Real Bea Arthur
As the bus abruptly stopped and started, I repeatedly stepped on the woman directly behind me, who looked like Bea Arthur (“Maude”, of 70’s sitcom fame). Of course it wasn’t Bea Arthur, but she was tall with large feet and gray hair and had the look of Bea Arthur. I’m sure I also nailed Bea’s husband a few times, who was behind me to the right. Sorry Bea. Sorry Bea’s husband.
I already had a good start on overheating from our dash to the bus, but now I was quickly absorbing heat from all sides. Turns out the buses are supposed to be air conditioned, but this one wasn’t. It was close to 80 degrees outside and I was packed in a sweltering bus with a hundred of my now closest friends, with no windows, no air movement, and trying desperately to stay upright. It was a long ride to Belem. I won’t go into further detail about the rash, but suffice to say there was lots of wetness involved and it wasn’t pretty.
Monastery of Jeronimos, Belem
If you do make it to Belem, one way or another, make sure to visit the Monastery of Jeronimos. It’s a giant, white limestone structure full of detailed, Gothic architecture. We found it breathtaking and very impressive. Entrance to the church is free. Entrance to the Monastery is 10 euros and it’s worth it.
The Tagus River
After visiting the Monastery, we took a walk along the waterfront by the Marina, heading west paralleling the Tagus River. There’s an underground tunnel to get across the fast moving highway between the Park and the waterfront, almost directly across from the gigantic Monument to the Discoveries.
Tower of Saint Vincent
Once on the Marina side, it’s about a 10 minute walk to the Tower of Saint Vincent. The Tower served both as a fortress and as a ceremonial gateway to Lisbon. The Tower rises majestically out of the river and looks like a movie set. The tower was the last thing many explorers saw as they left Portugal on their journey to the new world.
Steve relaxing at lunch in Belem
Next, we took a foot bridge by the tower back over the highway. We headed a couple of blocks into town where we found a restaurant with shady outdoor seating that was far less touristy than back by the Monastery.
Here are my tips for a day trip to Belem:
Not the Trolley to Belem
Catch the 15E at the first stop, Praça da Figueira, not the second stop, Praça do Comércio. With luck, you’ll get a seat on the bus and have some breathing room.
Be advised that the 15E trolley that supposedly goes to Belem is actually not a trolley at all, but a mammoth, double-long, modern electric bus that has advertising all over the windows so you cannot see inside. It looks like something from a futuristic sci-fi movie, not at all like the cute yellow trolley we were looking for that travel all over Lisbon.
Turns out you can also catch the “normal” bus #728 to and from Belem, so there’s no need to even deal with the giant futuristic electric bus, unless you’re into that sort of thing.
Bring lots of water and maybe a fan.
Wear a good antiperspirant or maybe go in December. And good luck.
Update:
I have great news to report, in case you are concerned about me. My “issue” is getting much better and it’s only been 24 hours. I think I’m ready to head to Sintra, our next destination!
In two short weeks my husband and I will set off on a grand six to seven month travel adventure. Leaving from Seattle, Washington on September 24, 2019, we plan on visiting, at a minimum, Portugal, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, and perhaps Laos. Beyond reserving our Airbnb’s for a few days in each of the first three countries, we have no set itinerary for our 180-200 day journey, which I find both thrilling and a bit terrifying.
Luggage: Less is More
In the past we’ve traveled fairly light. We’d take a wheeled carry-on size suitcase and a generously sized day pack each. This time around, we’re downsizing even more, for several good reasons. It’s so much easier to travel on uneven streets, up & down stairs, and through crowded train terminals with a backpack rather than pulling a wheeled suitcase. It’s also nice to be hands free, as a backpack allows. I look forward to the simplicity of minimal packing, and the ease it brings when moving from place to place.
Our new Osprey backpacks are about half the size of our old wheeled carry-ons. It’s quite a challenge to downsize by so much, but bad knees necessitate reasonably sized backpacks, at least for me. We’ll also bring a small to medium day pack each. We’re still figuring out exactly what size day pack will work best. Overall I’m excited by the idea of minimalist travel. We’ll see if I still feel the same way on day 200.
