Bangkok. God, it's hot and sticky and inscrutable.
Last day in Bali was quiet. Met up with Balinese Buddy Bobby; had planned on white water rafting but were too late plus his bike had been borrowed. Plus I was feeling hellish from the previous night; bad mixture of beer and jamjars (big fruit and unknown spirits combination) while he, rather drunk, was telling me that he wanted me, while I explained - for the millionth time - that twas not to be. So I was fine for just sitting, drinking icecoffee and fresh juice and occasionally darting off to the bog while awaiting his bike. Went to Denpasar (capital city; more sprawling and less interesting than Kuta) to have sunglasses and a last Balinese meal (Pizza Hut. A sudden urge. Don't ask.). Picked up my mobile - bless the tour organisation - discovered several Indonesian numbers in the last dialled section, and anticipate a fairly horrible phone bill. And ho to the airport.
"Everything you wanted to know about sex but were afraid to ask" just about lasted the journey - a cheap pickup from a limited selection the previous day. Not ideal airplane reading, really; I felt rather coy about displaying the cover - it implies there are things one doesn't know about sex, which of course is not the case. (Koff koff rustle from the audience - but I'm the only one writing here, so no interjections from others allowed). God, it's irritating. The introduction claimed it wanted to do guilt-free unbiased open discussion as usual - patronising, but forgivable. The physiological bits were interesting, but immediately forgotten. The chapter on male homosexuality (female was mentioned in a couple of places, but apparently didn't warrant a chapter) was just infuriating, based on every negative stereotype in existence and insinuating every negative attitude to it that has ever existed. Recommended shrinks to adjust the homosexual to a happy, normal hetrosexual instead of "seeking love where there can be no love; fulfillment where there can be no true fulfillment". Nice and unbiased. Which left me pretty dubious about the accuracy of everything else he said.
End rant. There was a thunderstorm over Bangkok when we flew in; and the airport was empty - just one desk open for hotel reservations, and no public transport. I adopted my normal new-country-after-midnight policy and got a hotel for about 20 squid and a taxi straight to it. By waiting for an hour till check-in time (6 am), saved a night's costs, so went to their restaurant to coffee the time away. All was well until I got a bottle of water to take to my bedroom. Much perplexity from the non-English speaking waiter as I refused to let him open it and tried to put it in my bag. More staff summoned; I explained I wanted it to brush my teeth and rinse my lenses. More staff summoned; I had an audience of 5 staff agog, not to mention the next table. They said they couldn't let me take the bottle out ; I said why? I offered to bring the bottle back. Horrified shaking of heads. No no no. It was 6 am and I was tired. I just wanted water, goddammit.. After 10 minutes of mixed silence and repetition of the same arguments, they caved. Alleluiah.
When I got to my room, the minibar had chilled bottles of water. I'd forgotten such things existed.
God, the luxury! I'm serious. A big clean solid room with a comfortable bed with a quilt; a tv & radio of my own; a bath with hot as well as cold water; a proper shower instead of a hosepipe; air conditioning instead of a noisy fan . Phwooaar. It's worth living rough for the sheer pleasure of occasionally splurging. Okay, it's an average hotel by western standards - but to me at the moment, it's comparable to the Ritz and Savoy rolled together. I had a long hot bath and couple of hours kip.
Wandered into town. A cheerful enthusiastic bloke saw me checking my map, wondering why none of the names I'd seen coincided with where I should be, and came over and gave a twenty minute talk on where to go and what to do. On discovering I didn't know anything much about Thai silk, he looked as if I'd insulted every female member of his family, drew breath, and talked for 30 minutes about how good and cheap and wonderful Thai silk was, and that there was a special occasion in one place, last day today, and I had to go and see it. I said grand, and started to walk. He said no no no, I had to get a tuk-tuk because it was late and the last day and I mightn't find it if I walked. I said grand, and started strolling up the road to get a tuk tuk. He said no no no, he'd get one and make sure I got the right price and place and didn't get ripped off (30p - about right, according to the guidebook). I didn't have the heart to tell him I really wasn't interested in Thai silk - and he did really seem to be a genuine enthusiast, not a tout or rip off artist - and he said there was a good Thai fish food market next to it where I could get food (really needed breakfast) - so what the hell, off I went in the back of an absurd opensided motorised tricycle. In I wandered - rather western style place, several stories high; looked reputable. Two attendants attended: presented me with books of styles for ladies' suits. I decided I was missing a light pair of trousers, and found an appropriate design. Then to the silks- yes, they were gorgeous; all hues and colours and textures; my favourite was one of the medium price range (about 15 quid a square metre; the most expensive was about 20 quid but heavier than I wanted) - dark blue and black, vaguely stripey, handwoven, light but tough. So the trousers - after a bit of discussion - would cost about 40 quid. At which point I decided it was time to go; made excuses and off I went. Ate some inscrutable oriental food (choice by pointing to one of various squiggles; no western script translation) brooding over the trousers. Dammit, I did want them. How often do you get handwoven pure silk trousers tailored to your exact requirements, after all? So went back, got measured, and coughed up. And tomorrow, this backpacker will be sporting very non-backpacker clothes in an expensive hotel. Is this the beginning of the end?
What's Bangkok like? Hot. Sweaty. Cloudy. Stormy. Smelly - drains, rotting vegetables and car exhausts. Filled with natives - all the tourists are probably on the coast for the full moon party tonight. No hassle from anyone, no hard sales; feels fairly safe; numerous orange robed, shavenheaded monks. Millions of roadside cafes selling food; in the evening, it smells of garlic and barbecue. Traffic is thronged. Buildings are western; very little oriental ornamentation, except on the few temples which are nothing but. Few beggars, lots of contented looting pet cats and dogs.