A Sharp Turn North

February 4, 2016

I started this at Suvarnabhumi Airport at Bangkok. Don’t ask me how to pronounce that. I’m finishing up shortly after we arrived in Chiang Mai.

We took it easy in the heat Wednesday, our last day in Bangkok. We hid out at the hotel until one or so and walked out to explore a couple of the sois with higher numbers. We crossed Sukhumvit Road at the first big intersection with a light, near Soi 21. I learned later that the name of the wide cross street is Asok Montri Road.

As we were walking along, we saw the cowgirl on the sign for Soi Cowboy. I thought that alley was farther down, but no, here it was, though much subdued in daylight. Only one or two bars were open. Apparently it is strictly a night market. No hookers on the day shift lining the streets. The way was partly blocked instead by parked vans, most of them delivering food and booze to the clubs.

We came out of Soi Cowboy and feeling a mite peckish by that time, we checked a couple of places. We went into a Farang bar that called itself the Clubhouse.

Now this is the strange part. We expected to have Euro or American food. But this bar had foot-long hot dogs. These were the first hot dogs I had seen on a bar menu since my last trip to the Ginger Man on 36th Street in New York. So I ordered one, and Joanna did too.

Here we are in Thailand, home to the hottest dishes I’ve eaten, yet the hot dog and the Dijon mustard, too, were the blandest I’ve ever tasted. It was downright funny.

I wasn’t complaining, mind. After all, they had draft beer. I don’t remember what I had, probably Singha or Tiger, but it was wet and  cool.

After lunch, we continued around the block and started back to the hotel, when Joanna cried uncle.

“Uncle,” she said, “I can’t take the heat, so let’s take a cab instead.”

We hailed a cab and said “meter” as we got in. The driver starts to roll, even before we tell him where we’re going, because he has to go to the light before he needs the information.

I don’t see lights on the meter. “Stop. Stop. Meter. Meter.” The driver nods and says “meter,” then points to it and shows me that it’s on. I was looking at the wrong device.

We didn’t have far to go, but it was a long way to walk in the sun. The fare came to 60 baht or something like that, so I gave the guy 100, less than three bucks.

I didn’t even stop for another beer. When we got back into our air conditioning, a nap was in order.

Around 6, the sun was almost down and the streets were cooler. We passed Chuvit Garden, the little park near Soi 10.

Dinner was a return to Cabbages & Condoms. Steamed bass is on the menu and we didn’t get to try that on Tuesday.

Steaming is a great way to cook this fish, and the seasoning with the sweet Thai soy sauce and lots of ginger was terrific. That’s why a dead fish is the picture of the day. The white eyeball means the meat is done. The rice dish on the side is a combination of white jasmine and red rice.

I learned a little more about the origins of the restaurant. It was started by an organization called the Population and Community Development Association. The association was started in 1974 by a social activist, Mechai Viravaidya, who saw a great need for family planning. He believed that the size of Thai families, with a half-dozen kids or more, was preventing many people from emerging from poverty.

The AIDS connection and other activities came later.

Among the many features unique to this establishment is that you don’t get mints or fortune cookies when they bring your bill. You get condoms.

We left one or two at the hotel this morning, along with a bottle of water we didn’t open. Just like the mini-bar at Pattaya.

Joanna stopped with me while I had one more beer at Viva, and then we were both done for the night.

We were both up before the wake-up call came at 6, which is just as well.

The cab came early, around 8:20. The driver took a toll road and we were dashing along the expressway, looking at the traffic jams inching in the oposite direction.

Then the six lanes of the expressway merged into four, so we got our turn to creep for a while. Even so, we were still at the airport long before 10.

I had a Singha and a croissant sandwich for second breakfast. (We had already taken yogurt and fruit at the hotel before we left.)

We were in the restaurant at a big picture window. Outside there is a vast garden with a shrine in the middle. A few people stopped to say a prayer. Nervous flyers, perhaps.

The plane got us off around 12:30, and we touched down at Chiang Mai an hour later. The cab dropped us off at the Boonthavon around 2:20.

That’s the quickest trip I’ve ever made from touchdown to hotel.

We’ll be in Chiang Mai till the 24th, when we move on to Phnom Penh.

I can’t believe it is me writing this stuff and not having to make it up.

I am going to go out soon in search of beer at some places I remember from my last visit to town.

Wishing you all the best travel and better beer.

Harry