It’s hard to sum up Bangkok in one word or even a set of words. Crowded, bustling, overwhelming, disorganized, stinky and hot might help to set the stage. Yet what’s most striking about Bangkok is its extremes. From the rickety open-aired tuk-tuks attempting to weave between lines of traffic to the quiet, air conditioned pristine of the skytrain overhead. From bustling street vendors selling clothing and trinkets from stalls packed one on top of the other to the sprawling white marble of its malls, far exceeding the nicest of malls the US. There’s the water-side beauty of the Mandarin Oriental that whisks its guests along the polluted Chao Phraya river in a teak private boat, to the absolute nasty Khao San Road that caters to backpackers of every nationality. There’s McDonalds for the Americans on their college travels, pubs for the British gap yearers and falafel stalls for the Israelis’ post-army travels. It’s absolute unabashed consumerism at its worst. The heat is probably the most overwhelming, as it bears down on you like a ton of bricks by mid-day. We learned our lesson about avoiding activity in direct mid-day sun and somehow managed to find pockets of serene in this bustling city.
Day one we visited the Grand Palace, a white walled complex of colorful ceramic tiled temples with golden spires, elaborate wall paintings and the famous “emerald buddha”. We spent most of the time trying to find cool in the shade and darting between bus loads of Japanese tourists toting umbrellas to shade themselves from the sun. We came, we saw, we conquered then quickly escaped for a cool drink and lunch. By late afternoon we went to Wat Pho, where there were little crowds, the air was cool and the experience was absolutely sublime. Here, there are golden buddhas at every corner, including the largest reclining buddha in all of Thailand. In each of Wat Pho’s many temples, we took off our shoes and kneeled on the carpet staring at the elaborately painted walls and gilded buddhas as Thais prayed alongside us. We’ve been in many churches, temples, and mosques throughout our travels but this seemed the most equitable worship space. Aside from requirements to cover your shoulders and legs, everyone is allowed to worship and meditate equally — no roped off corners or areas for men-only.
The clouds began to gather so we made our way towards Wat Pho’s famous Thai massage school and waited in the camphor-scented cool for our turn at an hour long muscle kneading. We were dressed in t-shirts and loose pants provided by the school and were told to lie on large flat beds beside a window that looked out on Wat Pho’s spires and the darkening rain clouds above them. As our masseuse and masseur contorted our bodies and pushed out every last knot, their adorable children squatted by our feet, giggling every so often. After our massage, the rain clouds cleared and we wandered around the much cooler and empty compound of Wat Pho, watching the shadows dart across the white walls of the temples as the sun set. After, we took a quick boat ride across the river to Wat Arun, another large but very different temple where monks were chanting in prayer. The remaining clouds from the rain began to turn to pink and purple and just as they did, our camera battery died. We made our way home across the city by air conditioned taxi at a cost of less than $3 and crashed, too tired to bother grabbing dinner.
Cool Photographs !