Bangkok Transport, A-Z

Regular contributor John Borthwick samples, in alphabetical order, Bangkok’s various public transports of delight and sometimes despair. 

Airport Rail Link From Suvarnabhumi (pronounced Suwannapoom — or “Swampy”) to midtown takes 30 minutes (and 45 baht) on the eight-stop City Line, and about 20 minutes (and 90 baht) on the one-stop Express Train. Both terminate at Phaya Thai BTS SkyTrain station. Excellent system. 

Airport Taxi Exit on the ground floor; locate the yellow, meter-taxi hire desk. This service costs 50 baht added to your final fare. Desk tells the driver your destination hotel/address. For example, you’re going to Sukhumvit Road: the meter starts at 35 baht, you pay road tolls as you go (45 and 25 baht) and the final meter fare (about 250 baht), plus 50 baht service fee. Tip if you want. 

Bicycle Sheer PC masochism. The Big Mango’s traffic is anarchic and merciless: might is right and two wheels are “wrong”, unless attached to a motorbike. However, if you’re a true zealot, consider the share bike system called PunPun. (www.punpunbikeshare.com) 

Bus Cheap, often crowded, non-airconditioned. Signage in Thai. Drivers rarely speak English. Unless you know exactly where you want to go (and have it written in Thai), this is not the easiest choice for visitors. 

Canal Boat Fast, furious and spray, too. Skinny canal boats rocket along the 1837-built Saen Saeb klong, making fleeting pit-stops at 18 wharves. You leap on and off — literally — wherever you want. The conductor collects fares on-board. A cheap as chips tour of Bangkok’s backdoors. 

Motorcycle Taxi Non-PC masochism. “Moto-si” dudes linger on corners wearing numbered, low-visibility vests. Explain your destination. Settle on the fare first — prices start at about 40 baht for a short trip. Be sure to use the helmet. Settle back for a slipstreaming, tailgating, maximum monoxide view of the Bangkok stampede. 

MRT Metropolitan Rapid Transit system aka the subway. A limited network (18 stations, one line), but clean, fast and economical. Purchase a token before boarding. 

River Ferry There are two principal ferry systems. The Chao Phraya River Express is a local service that’s quick, crowded and cheap. It services numerous whistle-stop wharves — a commuter bus on water. The recommended Chao Phraya Tourist Boat is more comfortable and stops at 30 piers near main visitor attractions — a one-day pass costs 150 baht. Starting point is Central Pier (at Saphan Taksin Bridge). 

River ferry in BKK

SkyTrain (BTS) The Bangkok Train system, aka SkyTrain, is more extensive than the MRT and runs (as the name suggests) well above ground. Some 33 stations on two lines. Before boarding, purchase your ticket card (15 to 52 baht, depending on distance) or a 130-baht One-Day Pass. Clean and air-conditioned, though often SRO crowded. Always beats road traffic. 

BTS Skytrain

Taxi BKK meter taxis are plentiful, clean and inexpensive. Many drivers speak little English (and some don’t know this extensive city very well) so it helps to have your destination address written in Thai. Make sure the meter is on (flag-fall, 35 baht); if the driver won’t use the meter, just hop out and hire the next cab — which is about one minute away. 

Tuk-tuk These days tuk-tuk (proper name samlor, “three-wheel”) is a novelty transport mostly used by tourists. Tuk-tuks are unmetered and drivers will charge farang whatever they think our (often demonstrated) ignorance will bear. Always more expensive than a meter taxi. Never start your journey without agreeing on the price and if there’s more than one passenger, do not pay “per head.” PS: Don’t get taken to gift shops, etc, “just for quick look”. 

Crazy BKK streets: Pics: John Borthwick

Walking BKK footpaths can be wondrous, infuriating, alienated zones of stalls, utility boxes, merchandise, excavations, pitfalls, fortune-tellers, food carts and random roadblocks, more resembling a steeplechase than a sidewalk. You won’t get anywhere fast, but you’ll see plenty and often out-walk a Sukhumvit-Silom traffic jam.

Not Much Lacking in Khao Lak

Regular contributor John Borthwick visits an on-song Andaman alternative to Phuket. Long, unsullied beaches. 

No jets-skis, sun-loungers or tuk-tuk mafia. Take me there! 

Laid-back Khao Lak, in Phang Nga Province on Thailand’s Andaman shore, is the place. Its 25-km string of beaches still looks much as it did a decade ago — a slumbering coastline of palms, sea-pines and low-rise resorts. This languid shore has always been a favourite with long-stay northern Europeans, with its discrete, upmarket resorts (none built higher than a coconut tree) catering for those who want to get away from all the others who are getting away from it all. 

The tsunami of Boxing Day 2004 hammered Khao Lak hard, with some 4000 people perishing. The subsequent rebuild was well planned and the result might be described as business as unusual. That is, the locals have kept their sands free of the grids of rent-a-chairs that often bedevil Thai resort beaches. Even better, they’ve also ensured there are no off-song banana boats, howling jet-skis or tow-kite speedboats.

Bang La On (often known as Khao Lak Town) on the highway at the south end of the Khao Lak coast is an ever-stretching ribbon development of mini-marts, tailors (“Johnny Armani” and co.), dive centres and restaurants, plus souvenir shops that sell “same-same-not-different” tat, albeit at wildly varying prices. 

Bang Niang, further up the highway, is where most of the limited nightlife happens, with bars, restaurants and a few clubs. My favourite eating place here is Blue Mist restaurant, a rambling wooden structure on the beach (near the JW Marriott), where we feast grandly on Thai seafood, chicken and vegetable dishes, plus cocktails. Over-stuffed and chuckling for 350 baht ($12) a head. This family-friendly, snoozy, honeymooning sort of coast is known as the Gateway to the Andaman. Be sure to step through that gate at least once. 

Blue Mist restaurant. Pics: John Borthwick

Take a daytrip (or longer) to either Koh Similan or Koh Surin mini-archipelago, both marine national parks, that sit just 60 km offshore. There is superb snorkelling and diving at each, with dramatic swim-throughs, prolific marine life and stunning visibility. The islands are open November to May, but closed during monsoon season. 

Meanwhile, inland, are five national parks, including the great rainforests of Khao Lak and Khao Sok parks. The latter is like a freshwater version of Phang Nga Bay to the south, near Phuket. Its giant Ratchaprapha reservoir is the liquid jewel of Khao Sok and one of Thailand’s under-sung wonders. 

Next day we’re on the Klong Sok River aboard lazy kayaks. Enormously high trees ripple above us — can you get reverse vertigo from looking upwards? The river is silent, the paddles too, and at times we round a bend to spot an electric-blue kingfisher. Or a viper snoozing peacefully on an overhanging limb, which is exactly where we leave it.

Hua Hin's Elephant Polo Tournament

It's nearly that time of the year again, when pachyderms become the focus of Thailand's social scene. Regular contributor John Borthwick reports: 

"Does the elephant hold the mallet in its trunk?" asks a friend as I set off to the King’s Cup Elephant Polo Tournament. The best place in the world to witness elephant polo is Hua Hin during the annual tournament organised by the local Anantara Resort. 

"No elephant may lie down in front of the goal mouth. To do so constitutes a foul." With rules like these, it's hard to take elephant polo seriously at first. But watch 12 tonnes of thundering pachyderm and six windmilling mallets charge from one of the field to the other in a melee of dust, trunks and mad exertion, and it’s soon very clear that this is a serious "game”. 

With players, male and female, from Europe, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Thailand, UK, Pakistan, Australia and Argentina — representing institutions with sepia names like the Ceylon Elephant Polo Association and the Siam Polo Club — there's a whiff of old Raj about the four-day festival. 

Yet once the riders get lashed to the back of their two-tonne steeds and hear referee John Roberts signal "Bully off!" — Start! — the post-colonial posturing drops right away. For seven minutes — the duration of each polo "chukka" — the 100-metre pitch is a swirl of cracking mallets, under-trunk shots and trumpeting beasts. After a 10-minute breather between the two chukkas, the teams swap ends and mounts, and it's on again. 

"Elephant Polo is like horse polo, but without the horses," Diana Moxon, former PR for the event, once told me. Plus, of course, a Thai mahout riding forward of the mallet-wielding rider. Diana added, "You wouldn’t believe how many people ask, 'How does the German team get their elephants to Thailand?' I used to think they were joking — but, no. So, I’d just say, ‘By jumbo jet, of course’." 

The teams battle their way through quarterfinals and semis to reach a grand final that’s played in front of the King’s representative and ranks of ramrod-backed, white-starched Thai Army officers. 

This year will see defending champions, Thailand’s King Power squad go head to head with rivals that include a New Zealand Rugby All Blacks trio and team of Tiffany Show transvestites, who will play to win as well as performing at the final Gala Dinner.

Now in its 12th year, the Kings Cup Tournament has become one of Thailand’s largest charitable events and has raised almost US$600,000. The festival will have a spectacular opening parade, celebrity matches, Chang Noi Day (Children’s Day) and Ladies Day. 

If you’re wondering about the finer points of elephant polo, the final rule states, "Sugar cane or rice balls shall be given to the elephant at the end of each match, and a cold beer or soft drink to the driver — and not vice versa." 

Pics: John Borthwick

King’s Cup Elephant Polo Tournament, Suriyothai Army Base, Hua Hin. August 28—September 1. Free admission. www.anantaraelephantpolo.com.

Phuket - Paradise Lost?

When Paradise gets discovered by the masses, it inevitably becomes Hell - or does it? 

A damning report exposing the dark side of tourism in the Thai island of Phuket appeared yesterday in the Sydney Morning Herald, claiming that rip-offs, rorts, drink spiking, scams, robbery, assault and police corruption are now common place in the popular holiday destination. 

From an Australian perspective, the problem stems largely from the fact that many tourists - may I call them bogans? - travel specifically to Phuket for the very things that are criticised in the article - sleazy nightlife, the sex trade and to get pissed. Getting ripped off is all part of the parcel, and most will suck it up as part of their holiday experience. Besides, they'll be so drunk they won't remember what happened anyway. 

Pic: John Borthwick

I was chatting to some very charming Aussie blokes on a plane recently who excitedly listed the destinations they were planning to visit in Thailand - Bangkok, Pattaya and Patong. It was their first visit to Thailand, and they couldn't wait to see it in all its glory. The 'boys trip' had Hangover Part 4 written all over it, and I have little doubt where their first port of call in Bangkok would be that night. 

While tourists perpetuate and support the dark side of tourism, it will continue to exist. Of course, the Thai government is also culpable, turning a blind eye to the increasing sleaziness in Phuket due to associated financial gain. And with tourist numbers continuing to soar in Phuket, the situation is not likely to change in any hurry. 

But here's the thing - if you don't want to be exposed to Phuket's nasty side, DON'T GO THERE! Simple. Choose another destination in Thailand. Want a quiet beach? Then Patong is not the spot. Research, people - it's not that hard, particularly with all the resources of the internet at hand. 

Phuket is a massive island. There are still many idyllic pockets along its coastline where you can walk on a deserted beach, with nary a Russian package tourist or jet ski in sight. I recently stayed in the gated community of Laguna, where forward-planning and a community spirit has preserved the purity of paradise. Further afield, the southern tip of the island, Cape Panwa, is a remote and isolated jewel, while the northern beach of Mai Khao is part of a national and marine park and subsequently still blessedly undeveloped. 

The beautiful beach at Laguna.

Of course, some destination-specific annoyances are unavoidable wherever you go in Phuket - specifically, taxi rip-offs. A night out will end up costing a bomb if you hire a cab; best to take advantage of hotel shuttle services, or consider renting a car if you want to explore the island in depth. 

Or ... can I put this any more clearly - go somewhere else! Head to an island which hasn't been discovered by the masses. They do exist.

Pics: Julie Miller

Volunteering in Thailand

Regular contributor John Borthwick gives the lowdown on volunteering in Thailand...

Sydney journalist Kristie Kellahan volunteered in 2001 to work six months in a Buddhist orphanage in Chiang Mai. As she reports, it turned out to be much more. 

"It was such a beautiful, rewarding experience. Those six months have turned into an ongoing connection. More than 30 visits and 12 years later, the orphanage has become a big part of my life, the nannies and nuns have become my lifelong friends and I've loved watching the children grow up. There is no better way to get to know a country, its people, its humour, its hardships and its customs than through volunteering." 

Adorable! Pic: Julie Miller

“Voluntourism” — travelling to assist others — is a growing phenomenon in Thailand and elsewhere, with options that range from paying to join an organized volunteering-plus-travel itinerary, to working directly with an organization that needs casual help. 

Kristie notes that Thailand orphanages don’t necessarily welcome helpers (foreign or Thai) just dropping in at will. Volunteers shouldn't plan their trip to Chiang Mai (or elsewhere) based on the expectation of being needed. 

She strongly advises, “Always phone ahead, and close to the date of arrival. Likewise, ask what they need in terms of gifts/donations. It will probably be something practical like disposable nappies or baby formula. NOT the stuffed toys (germ farms) or lollies (dental disaster) that most people turn up with.”  

Volunteering is an excellent way to see Thai culture from beyond our own tourist “spectacles” and to look and learn. Several companies offer itineraries that combine volunteering with tourism activities, for which participants pay a program fee that can range from US$320 (for one week) upwards. The helping activities can include teaching English, outdoor work and participating in community development groups. 

- Projects Abroad: www.projects-abroad.com.au/destinations/thailand 

- International Volunteer HQ: www.volunteerhq.org/programs.html#thailand 

- Go Differently: www.godifferently.com 

Pic: John Borthwick

Meanwhile, established Thailand-based organisations that have volunteer programs include: 

 - Wild Animal Rescue Foundation, with projects like gibbon rehabilitation in Phuket and sea turtle conservation in Ranong.  www.warthai.org 

 - The Mangrove Project, for daytrip mangrove planting not far from Bangkok at Samut Songkram. 
www.bangkokvanguards.com 

 - Habitat for Humanity, to assist with house-building alongside the needy. www.habitatthailand.org

Pic: John Borthwick

Elephants. Everyone loves ‘em and wants to work with them. There are possibilities with conservation centres such as the Elephant Nature Foundation in the Mae Tang Valley, north of Chiang Mai: www.elephantnaturefoundation.org, where Khao Jai Thailand editor and animal lover, Julie Miller spent a week working with rescued street elephants. 

"After a life of servitude - often not the kindest - these rescued animals now live the life of leisure they deserve, and it's heartwarming and rewarding to be able to take a small role in their ongoing care," she says.

Volunteers at ENP

Finally, if can’t volunteer your time, the above-listed Thai organisations will find your cash donation truly valuable.

L.O.S or Loss? Secure Travel in Thailand

Regular contributor John Borthwick looks on the darker side of travelling life. 

There’s a joke about how foreigners arrive in Thailand and seem to leave their brains at the airport. Well, why not? You’re on holidays in the Land of Smiles, the happy valley of mai pen rai. And, especially if you’re young, you’re bulletproof. Right? 

Statistics, those grey party-poopers, reckon otherwise. Some 100 Australians died in Thailand last year, largely due to illness and accident. 

OK, unless you’re very dumb, drunk or unlucky, you probably won’t come home in a box. Maybe just traction. But plenty of other bummers do happen. 

Let’s get smart about the common ones. 

Theft. It’s real. Always use your hotel room safe or a deposit box. Don’t carry around your vital documents and cash “safely” in your bum-bag or shoulder bag — it’s the easiest target in the world for snatch-and-grab. Carry photocopies of your docs, cards and info separately from the originals. Also, photograph the lot and save the images to your laptop or phone, and a webmail account. If you do lose valuables (through theft or otherwise) report it ASAP to the police, and get a signed, dated report. Without that, your insurer won’t help. 

Insurance. Rafting, biking, climbing, diving, partying ... what’s to worry about? If you can’t afford good travel insurance, stay home and save until you can, because you can’t afford to be in Thailand without it. 

Bank stuff. Be watchful for “skimmers” on ATMs, aimed to capture your PIN. Cover the pad when you key-in. Even so, the ATM fees themselves can feel like legal theft: any cash withdrawal against a foreign bank entails a 150 baht ($5) fee-grab for the Thai bank, plus your home bank’s charge, plus currency conversion fees — ultimately making frequent, small withdrawals very expensive money. If you’re concerned about credit card theft or scams, get a “damage limitation” card with a low limit (say, $1000) and use it exclusively. New credit cards and passports have smart chips designed for RFID readers, but these can also be read by a thief located near you with a reader, making your information vulnerable. Korjo has developed inexpensive “Defender” pouches with an RFID shield to block such theft. 

“Friends” and other strangers. Don’t presume that all thieves are local punks. Fellow travellers, especially in shared budget accommodation, can be very light-fingered and soon very gone. Don’t tempt them. Similarly, if you meet an agreeable local person in a bar and decide to extend the friendship back in your room, make sure that all your valuables are locked away before your mind is on other things. 

On the Road. Whatever you secure your valuables in, don’t then stick it in the overhead storage on a plane or train. Keep it on you. Thailand’s intercity passenger vans are fast, furious and cheap. Unfortunately they’re often too fast and jam-packed, being piloted by guys on speed trying to maximize their daily runs and profit. Serious prangs happen. Think about the bus, the legroom, the restroom, the aircon ... 

Motorcycles. The most common cause of significant grief. It’s easy to hire one, even if you’ve never been on a bike in your life. However, if you don’t have a current Australian motorcycle licence (not just a car one) your travel insurance won’t cover a thing when you wipe out — wearing thongs and no helmet? Yes, it wasn’t you fault, sure — but it is still your hospital bill. Medicare doesn’t apply outside Australia and Thai hospitals can charge like wounded red bulls. 

Jet-skis. Don’t go near them. In Phuket and Pattaya, in particular, tourists are extorted every day by the jet-ski mafia who inevitably discover your “damage” to their craft on its return. Threats, violence and official indifference mean that you pay up, big time. If, however, you do hire one and then cause death or actual damage, you’re in even deeper trouble. 

Random tips. Pack a couple of small padlocks, and a supply of light cable-ties — for temporarily securing external zippers, etc. Hotel keycards can sometime contain your un-encoded data on the magnetic strip; break them before discarding. Be mindful of drink spiking; it happens rarely but, depending on the circumstances, don’t leave your drink unattended. Never get into a fight with a Thai — it won’t be one-on-one. At internet shops and public computers, log-out fully, clearing your password and history.

Pics: John Borthwick

Mae Hong Son: Thailand's True North

Regular contributor John Borthwick admits he’s a sucker for old teak towns and mountain mists. No surprise that he loves Mae Hong Son in far north Thailand.

With some 1864 bends on the tortuous route between Chiang Mai and Mae Hong Son, you need to be a resolute traveller to not hop off the bus at Pai, roughly mid-way. However, much of this once snoozy upcountry village has now gone to T-shirt racks and night market ruin.

If Pai is a Thai-dyed farang fusion town, then Mae Hong Son, farther west, is still a living, working Thai hill town. Mae Hong Son sits just beside the Burmese border in far northwestern Thailand – a place of wood-smoke and temples, hot springs and cold nights, ATMs and opticians. It has a dreaming-pool lake and an airstrip right in the middle of town, and only one traffic light.

Now, if only it had a beach and a strip of beer bars? Thank Buddha it does not. This is a walking town. Stroll around its lake that reflects the glittering spires of Wat Chong Klang and Wat Chong Kham by day and night. On every street you’ll pass a few surviving teak buildings — boxy, two-storied shop-houses whose venerable timbers seem alive with the tales of those who’ve lived within. These grand old dames make Mae Hong Son one of Thailand’s last “teak towns.” They don’t make them like this any more, the buildings, the teak or the towns.

Wat Doi Kong Mu

I hoof it up almost a thousand steps to where Wat Doi Kong Mu sits on a mountain overlooking the town, a marzipan castle of whitewashed pagodas and golden gee-gaws. From the summit you can look across to the hothouse jungle hills of Myanmar’s Shan state. Up here, the tiny Before Sunset Café has a sunny deck, shade parasols and fine local coffee that can cause you to linger over daydreams, tossing into the valley whatever plans you might have had for the rest of the day.

Many visitors join trekking tours in the surrounding mountains and hill-tribe villages. Most of these have been "sight-seen" for decades so don't expect too much anthropological virginity. However, there will be plenty of carvings and embroidery coming at you for sale.

Other visitors take the tour to nearby Huay Sua Thao village, there to rubberneck at the so-called Long-Necks, the famous Karen tribal women who wear multiple brass rings around their apparently elongated necks. (In fact, their shoulder and collarbones are depressed rather than their vertebrae being stretched.) Advertised crudely as “Giraffe Women”, it seems to me like a human freak show, so I skip it and go play in the mud.

Mae Hong Son is known as "the City of Three Mists," thanks to its fogs in winter, bushfire haze in summer and rainy mists in wet season. I see none of these, but instead find a fourth kind of vapour – clouds of steam rising off the mineral mud pools at Phuklon Mud Spa.

Two attendants paint me from head to toe in black mud (not a pretty sight), the starting point in an hour-long ritual that involves baking dry in the sun, being scrubbed with tamarind paste, immersed in mineral springs and finally anointed with lanoline. By the end of it I feel like a million bucks although it has cost me only $25.

I don’t want to leave lovely Mae Hong Son but when I must, it is by air. Leap-frogging those thousands of bends back to Chiang Mai in 25 painless minutes is indeed a lofty pleasure.

Getting the job done ... PICS: John Borthwick

Thailand Etiquette and Survival Tips

After years of blunders (and much kind forgiveness by Thai people), guest blogger John Borthwick has compiled the sort of “Newbie’s Guide” to Thai survival that he wishes he’d had way back when.

POLITENESS 
Thais value good form and politeness, so learn a few basic Thai phrases, such as greetings and thanks, and keep in mind the following tips:

Heads and feet. Buddhist Thais see the head as sacred. It is impolite to touch someone else’s, so don’t pat cute kids on the head — try the shoulder. It is equally impolite to point the soles of your feet at someone. 

Royals. Thais are publically very respectful about their royals, even if they have private reservations about the system. The King is deeply revered so don’t make jokes about the monarchy, even “harmless” ones. 

Stay cool. When things go wrong, as they can, don’t lose your cool and raise your voice against a Thai person. Speak calmly and keep negotiating if possible. Thais intensely dislike losing face (or money), especially to a foreigner, so sometimes it’s less aggravation to just button your lip and walk away. 

Temples and monks. Women are never permitted to touch a monk. When visiting a temple (and there are lots of them), dress modestly (this often means no shorts or bare shoulders for women), always remove your shoes, and never point your feet at the altar. 

SURVIVAL AND SCAMS
Despite being footloose and free in the so-called Land of Smiles, we farang (foreigners) still have to watch out for scammers and our own dumb mistakes. 

Road sense. Some 8,000 people die on Thailand roads each year, and April’s Songkran (Thai New Year) festival delivers one of the worst spikes. Minimise your long-distance van or motorcycle travel during peak holidays. If you hire a motorbike, note well that unless you hold a current, valid motorcycle licence (as opposed to a car licence), your travel insurance policy (you do have insurance, don’t you?) will very possibly NOT cover your medical or damage expenses. This is definitely true for Australian policies. And good Thai hospitals are very expensive. 

Double pricing. Non-Thais pay higher entrance fees at most attractions. For example, Thai adults pay 40 baht to enter national parks while foreigners pay 400 baht. It’s much more annoying at commercial attractions. Cough up, and don’t let the discrimination spoil your day. 

Gems. Buyer beware. Regardless of the “certificate,” don’t invest more money on gems than you can afford to laugh off when you return home to have some of them assessed as coloured glass. 

Jet-skis. In Pattaya (and elsewhere) unsuspecting tourists are often extorted by jet-ski hirers who claim that “damage” has been done to their craft. Threats and violence, plus official indifference, leave victims with little option but to pay up, big time. Jet-skis are allegedly “banned” at many popular beaches but still remain dangerously unregulated, a real hazard to swimmers. If you cause death or damage when driving a jet ski, you’re in major trouble. 

Fighting. Thailand is a very safe country, but never get into a physical fight with a Thai (such as a jet-ski operator). Queensbury does not rule here. In the Land of Smiles, they fight to win at all costs, and in numbers. Being a foreigner is no protection; it’s more like an invitation once the brawl begins. And don’t assume that the law is on your side. 

Taxi Mafias. Phuket taxi and tuk-tuk drivers collude in charging passengers absurd fees. Koh Samui has a version of the same problem, with drivers often refusing to use meters; in such a case, set the fare before staring the ride. If possible, arrange an airport transfer prior to your arrival. Bangkok is not a problem in this respect — just make sure the taxi meter is turned on. Pattaya’s “baht bus” (shared pick-up truck) system work admirably: basically, it is just 10 baht for any journey. 

IN GENERAL 
Finally, a few obvious and not-so obvious pointers:

Drugs: don’t even think about scoring anything unless you feel spending the next five to ten-plus in the Monkey House. 

ATM fees: cash machines are everywhere but Thai banks keep 150 baht (approx. $5) each time you withdraw (no matter how little) from a foreign account. And that’s on top of whatever your home bank also charges on the transaction. 

Street elephants: buying bananas from mahouts to feed young elephants that are paraded through the street just adds to the animal’s misery. 

Got all that? OK. Now go have fun.

PICS: Julie Miller

Mae Khlong: The Risky Market

Guest blogger John Borthwick, a confirmed non-shopper, makes an exception and goes to market at one known, for very good reason, as “the Risky Market”.
Thais call it Talat Rohm Hoop, the Closing Umbrella Market but for foreigners it is “the Risky Market”. And right now a large train is bearing down upon me as I stand far too close to its tracks.

My Thai friend Sam suggests politely, “Maybe you move back some little bit more.” I fling myself against a wall, flat as a pressed duck, as the train rumbles past, inches away. With a shave this close, who needs a razor?

Minutes before this level-a-tourist crossing event, I was amid a full-on market. Mackerel, brassieres, rambutan, sneakers, chili and nail clippers — all arrayed in a 100-metre long stretch. Down the middle of it, almost unnoticed, runs a narrow-gauge railway. Shade awnings (rhom) completely overhang the tracks, goods of every kind are stacked beside the line and shoppers mill across the tracks.

The train, a two-carriage electric service, rumbles through here four times a day but the stall-holders wait until it is almost upon them to make way for it. The awnings are rapidly pulled back while goods are shuffled aside. There’s such lack of urgency that tourists, awaiting some dramatic warning, are barely aware that the train is upon them.

I’m glad I’m not an elderly, plump Russian or a slow(-er) Aussie. Stand 20 cm too close and you have to leap for your life — as I do. One day though, someone will ... well, you know what I mean. A big, fat, lumbering loco will meets a tourist who’s artistically framing a tray of rambutan through a lens — and, Oh-my-Buddha! Or, as Sam says imperfectly but impeccably, “The train got no wrong.”

The market parts before the train like the Red Sea before Moses, then closes-in again behind the last carriage. The canvas awnings swing back and the goods, sellers and buyers spill right back to where they were. When the train returns later, the seas of commerce will part once more and some other tardy farang again will have to leap like a lizard.

Pics by John Borthwick, risking his life for his art!

All this happens at the morning market in the fishing port of Samut Songkram, also known as Mae Khlong, 80 km southwest of Bangkok. The tiny Mae Khlong-Mahachai railway line is the shortest in Thailand, at just 33 km in length. It starts in west Bangkok at Wong Wian Yai station, is cut by one large river and terminates beside another at Mae Khlong, the “capital” of Thailand’s smallest province, Samut Songkram.

Other than a few curious foreigners, the market is Thai to the max. Among the durian, fresh crabs, steamed mackerel and fried silkworms, we find two-frog satays for a bargain 35 baht — as opposed to 100 baht in Bangkok.

New Year, New Beginnings

Nakhon Sawan (TAT photo)

Happy New Year from Kao Jai and all our contributors! During 2012, I was lucky enough to have a great team of ‘guest bloggers’ who very kindly filled in for me while I was on an extended overseas sabbatical (sadly, not to Thailand!) And while I regret that I couldn’t be writing about my favourite place in the world personally, I could at least relax in the knowledge that Kao Jai Thailand was regularly updated with fascinating and entertaining articles from Thailand insiders and experts sharing their knowledge and passion for the Land of Smiles.

Special thanks to John Borthwick, Roderick Eime, Kerry Van der Jagt, Cynthia Barnes and Belinda Jackson for stepping up to the plate when I screamed for assistance!

It’s been almost a year since I last visited Thailand, and it hasn’t been easy being away from its beautiful people and scenery, great food, blissful beaches and of course my beloved elephants! But hopefully 2013 will bring me more time in Thailand, and more time to write about my second home.

In the next few weeks, I plan on overhauling the design of the blog, so look out for that; and I’ll also be starting a series of ‘insider tips’ from both Thai nationals and ex-pats living in various parts of Thailand.

Thanks to all my readers for sticking by me and sharing my love of the wonderful, crazy and beautiful country of Thailand!

Free-wheeling Through Bangkok's Brigadoon

Guest blogger John Borthwick goes in search of a very rare Thai destination, a car-free zone, and finds it on a time-warp Bangkok island. 

Bangkok and bicycling. The two words go together nicely — much as “Russian” and “roulette” do. But the combination can be done, even survived, although not recommended down Sukhumvit Road. 

With a little peloton of five other riders I’m heading to Koh Kret, an island in the Chao Phraya River some 20 km north of Bangkok’s neutron accelerator CBD. Moh, our guide on this easy, one-day ride, first drives us to a pier beside the restless river, where we wheel our bikes onto a little ferry.

Minutes later we step ashore on river-moated, time-warp Koh Kret. The island is that very rare Thai thing, a car-free zone. In 1722 Koh Kret became a refuge to Mon tribes who have lived here ever since, retaining their distinct identity and producing renowned terracotta and earthenware pottery.

 Some 1500 Mon now live on the island in seven scattered villages. Their potteries produce works in kwan raman, an unglazed red-black clay. Moh leads us to a family pottery-gallery where we watch a sculptor carve a highly complex Ramayana mythological scene onto a large earthenware pot. He tells us it will take at least two weeks to finish the work, after which the pot might easily crack when fired in the kiln. He sighs, “If that happens I stare at the sky for two hours, then start again.”

We are here mid-week and the island’s narrow paths are less crowded than on the very busy weekends. We cruise along concrete causeways built above the tidal flats, with jungle to the left, hamlets to the right and mangroves all around.

Our next stop is a typical pottery factory where everything is done by hand — I am astonished by the uniformity of the pots and the pace at which the workers, paid per vessel, are producing them.

My fellow cyclists are shoppers and soon their backpacks are heavy with bowls, ornamental platters and Buddhas. Weaving past Mon houses, paddies, orchards and galleries, we reach the northernmost tip of the little island. The temperature today is wok-hot, so we take a breather here beside a small pagoda on the point that thrusts into the Chao Phraya’s current, splitting it like a ship’s prow.

The ancient pagoda, marzipanned with decades of whitewash, sags precariously towards the river like a chocolate melting in the sun. I know how it feels. We rehydrate and revive, then saddle up again to plunge back into this timeless, two-wheeled island. Lacking cars, bars, taxis, malls and tuk-tuks, Koh Kret feels like Bangkok’s version of Brigadoon.

Koh Surin's Nomadic Sea Masters

Guest blogger John Borthwick explores the resilient world of Thailand's sea gypsies, survivors of the tsunami and the onslaught of the modern world.

Ramparts of shimmering rainforest tower above the island as we approach. Perched high on stilts along the shore of this Eden-like bay are some 20 palm-thatched huts, home to the Moken "sea gypsies” of Koh Surin.

The world became aware briefly of the Moken after the 2004 tsunami that devastated Thailand’s Andaman coast. The five tiny islands of the Mu Koh Surin archipelago are part of a marine national park just south of the Thai-Myanmar sea border and some 60 kilometres off Thailand’s west coast.

"The elders had told us that if the water recedes fast it will reappear in the same quantity as it disappeared," recalls Moken man, Sarmao Kathalay. As the ocean drew back dramatically on December 26, 2004 the Moken knew what would follow — a massive surge known as laboon, the "wave that eats people", that is supposedly brought on by the angry spirits of their ancestors. Thanks to their legend, by the time the huge surges hit Koh Surin the Moken had retreated to the hills.

The Moken are known in Thai as chao naam (people of the water) or chao lay (people of the sea), and in English by the romantic term “sea gypsies”. Their two villages, on isolated, pristine shorelines on North and South Surin islands, are well apart from North Surin’s busy tourist campground at Chong Khat Bay.

Many Moken men work seasonally in the national park, so those I find when I visit the village are either very young or old. Bare-breasted mothers sit in the sand playing cards. A man carves a model of the traditional Moken kabang houseboat to sell to tourists. The toy is a reminder of the Moken’s skills as celestial navigators and sea nomads — ways that are fast disappearing.

There’s a houseboat moored where we land. On board lives a family of five — three generations. Farther down the beach, an older man works on a brightly painted spirit totem pole that he is preparing for April’s law bong festival.

                                                     (pics John Borthwick, 2012)

Koh Surin is not an Eden in retreat. Since 1981 the islands have been a Thai marine national park where “development” has not been allowed to stamp its boot. The islands are dense with beauty both above and below the waterline. The reefs are a brainstorm of metaphor-defying colour, movement and sealife. Overlooking the sea is dense rainforest where macaques skitter through the canopy.

While their shamans and animist portents are still vital to the Moken, they can no longer hunt endangered hawksbill turtles, their children attend primary school, and their boats are driven by diesel not wind. For these once-nomadic fishers who presciently survived the tsunami, the shoals of contemporary life are a different and difficult battle.