Sukhothai

Sukhothai was further away than we thought – we’d prepared for a 5 hour coach journey that ended up being 6. The only plus side of the trip is the lunch stop – where you get a nice little green curry thanks to the 1^st Class VIP ticket. The long, delayed journey resulted not only in aching bodies, but also a guesthouse owner who’d given up waiting for us at the bus station.  However a quick call later and Luc, our host returned to ferry us to the luxury that is ‘Baan Georges’.

Sukhothai is an even older capital of Siam (before Ayutthaya and of course, Bangkok). It is famous for the wonderfully preserved and cared for ruins of the old city – this is located about 12 km away from the new city where we were staying. ‘Baan Georges’ (our guesthouse) was excellent – only a year or so old with huge rooms, beautiful bathrooms, large swimming pool and nobody but us for the owner to look after. We knew it was going to be difficult to motivate ourselves to swap the balcony and swimming pool for looking at a ruined city!

So (rather predictably) the first day we didn’t - we ate at Poo’s restaurant (the name having no reflection on the food, in fact the restaurant was also owned by Luc and his bubbly wife/partner Poo) and then we had a massage to soothe the aches in our bones sustained during the previous day’s journey.

Poo is a lovely lady – she gave us her life story in thirty seconds, pretty much thirty seconds after meeting her. She comes from a fairly poor family in New Sukhothai and had built her own businesses from scratch: first a pancake stall (now run by her sister); then a motorbike rental shop; and now with Luc, her own restaurant and hotel. She was rightly proud of her achievements and it showed when she told us about her encounter the previous day. A group of opinionated young French backpackers had mistaken her for just a cleaning lady rudely insisting that they wanted to speak to the manager about the price of a room.  It seems she made it pretty clear that she was the boss and that the prices were a true reflection of the hotel’s standard (as they are). Seems Luc had to calm down the situation!

Pure concentration (so as not to fall off)...does anybody else think she looks a little like Tintin in this shot?

The next day we decided to visit the old city and so after replenishing our energy reserves with Luc’s delicious Belgian pancakes, we caught the bus (covered truck with bench) to the Old City. Old Sukhothai covers a massive area – so for around 60 pence each we hired bicycles on which to explore. Luckily much of the sightseeing is done within an enclosed, traffic free historical park as Monali’s cycling skills are comparable to those of a six year old who has just had the stabilisers removed from their bike.

The buildings within the park and outside on the periphery of the city are most impressive – I’d love to tell you more about the symbolism and heritage of each structure, but I’m afraid we were too interested in not getting hit by mad Thai drivers on the main road and finding somewhere clean to eat (and use the bathroom) than we were in studying guide books in detail. All in all though, we were both very glad to have spent the day cycling around – the city and its contents are a beautiful spectacle and offer a relaxing haven.

The visual stimulants of the Old City must have been too much for my feeble body as the next day Monali was aghast to find a mean looking blood clot in my eye. Being the caring wife she suggested (‘nagged and dragged’) that I went to the local eye doctor. After waiting for an hour, the lady doctor (I think she might not have always been a lady) turned up. She examined my eye through the microscope, looked up nonchalantly and informed me that my ‘horrendous eye infliction’ was not in the slightest bit serious, likely caused by some dirt in my eye and should be fine in 7 – 14 days. Then for three pounds, she sold me some anti-biotic eye drops (labelled ‘sample use only’) and sent us on our way.

We were not looking forward to our next coach journey – another long one, this time about 5.5 hours north to Chiang Mai. Things were made worse when we found out that there were no 1^st class buses operating on the route between Sukhothai and Chiang Mai! We eventually bought a ticket on the government bus after nearly being sold a ticket on a duff old non-a/c bus by a lady who (so helpfully) came out to greet us at the bus station. At 10:30 we left – a coach load of monks and Thai pensioners (who must have got up hours ago) returning after their daily shop to their homes out in the countryside. 

Ayutthaya

We travelled to the Royal City of Ayutthaya by mini-bus – a short (two hour ish) journey from Kanchanaburi. We only had one night in the city as feeling old, tired and need of a proper rest we had extended our stay in Chiang Mai. We were also at this point becoming a little less enthused about the side effects of frequent travelling (mainly the pain incurred in attempting to stuff two rucksacks worth of clothes into one rucksack).

Ayutthaya’s historical roots (it was a former capital city of Siam) appear 2 or 3 miles out with ruined temples and dilapidated buildings intermittently appearing either side of the mini-bus. We crossed the moat that surrounds the city and were soon dropped off in an unfamiliar area expecting the inevitable baiting by tuk-tuk driver. Luckily or unfortunately (depending on whether you favour hassle or the benefits of the free market) there was only one old guy. His minimal discount was overlooked as a result of the heat of the sun and weight of the bags!

I was a little hesitant about that evening’s accommodation, the Prom Tong Mansion – although it doesn’t always ring true, I am a firm believer of you get what you pay for and therefore, at 700 baht (£15) a night this place had the potential to be hovel. We were pleasantly surprised – it was not luxury by any means, but our room was clean, large and had adequate bathroom facilities (scoring perhaps 2.5/5 on the Barkataki scale)! The lady that owns the place even let us convert our recently purchased ‘Somalian’ albums (pirated) on her computer – we are a little concerned that the Australian customs might object to the import of such items!! (per our extensive research glued to ‘Nothing to Declare on the Discovery channel)

We had dinner at ‘Nut’s Place’ a nice local restaurant around the corner owned by ‘Nut’ herself. She didn’t have our favourite staple (Papaya Salad) on the menu, but was quite willing for us to bring it in from the street stall she recommended across the square – her Canadian ‘husband’ even fetched it for us. The salad looked very appetising, however on closer inspection  the crab contained within seemed to be completely raw – keen to avoid sewage induced food poisoning and not wishing our host to lose face we employed the tactics of a five year old and moved everything around a bit on the plate.

The Buddha recommends Marlboro Lights

The next morning we hired our tuk-tuk driver from the day before to make a whirlwind tour of Ayutthaya’s temples and historical buildings. We started off at a Chinese temple about twenty minutes away – the place was huge with coach loads of devotees turning up at 8am! We soon toured the obligatory huge Buddha statues, incense sticks and jade dragons and jumped back into the tuk-tuk to go do it again somewhere else. On route we noticed a plethora of small roadside stalls selling small fish in plastic bags (similar to those offered as prizes on fairground coconut stalls – luckily I have gotten over my childhood need to demand one of these as pets) – apparently these fish were for people to purchase and then release into temple waters as some form of pact with God – it brings you merit, which I assume is accumulated rather like a pre-paid credit card and then spent when you pass the pearly gates?

Big Stupas

The second temple we visited was much more interesting – huge rows of Buddha statues and large stupas (big tower type things).  One particularly large stupa had steps running up to the top and only once you reached the pinnacle could you see the small dark, Buddha filled room contained within. The room was occupied by a sole, mystical looking white robed monk (might have been a lady monk) chanting the verses to some ancient prayer – it all felt a bit like one of those confusing scenes (that I don’t understand) from the Matrix.  

This temple complex also contained a small lake – on closer inspection the water was filled to the brim with huge catfish. These things looked like small sharks – slightly longer than (they can grow to 3m), but much bulkier than a reef shark. They surfaced regularly (presumably looking for food) with a menacing disposition. The turtles that swam around them looked rightly nervous.

Jaws

From here we moved onto the ruined palace of Ayutthaya – which looked like an ancient building site only with the buildings being half destroyed rather than half built. I’m sure had we given our selves the time (and interest) to read and research, then the place would have been of great interest, however our time was short and so was our patience, so we toured quickly so that we had enough time to see the next place which was also quite famous.

We later realised that this might have been a touch disrespectful.....ugh

The next place in question and our final stop was a temple famous for a tree containing the head of Buddha. The literature says that nobody knows how it got there (man + chisel?) and to be fair it was quite a cool looking icon. However, the rest of the temple was fairly similar to the ruins we had seen (and not had the patience to understand) elsewhere so we quickly took photos and headed back to hotel.

We were booked on the 11:30 bus – so we headed to the small shop like bus station in the deserted back streets of Ayutthaya that feed the main highway. We thanked our tuk-tuk driver and sat down to wait for our coach to arrive for the slow six hour journey to Sukhothai. Entertainment was provided not by thee colour television showing the awfully acted ever-present Thai soap operas (one even has a vampire theme), but by the crazy looking dirty old woman sitting in front of Monali. Imagine crazy dirty old woman speaking in Thai and pointing at our bottle of water and imagine us smiling and trying to be nice tourists, but also being staunchly opposed to some random old lady depositing her germs around and in our bottle of H20. Actually, I was more concerned about whether having slaked her thirst that she might take interest in the BBQ chicken I’d just bought from the street corner - accompanied by homemade chilli paste / sauce it was perhaps one of the tastiest things we’d eaten on our trip so far.

Maybe the best BBQ chicken in the world?

Kanchanaburi

A grand total of 230 baht (less than a fiver) got us from Bangkok’s Mo Chit bus station to Kanchanaburi (2.5 hours east) by VIP, 1^st class coach (air con + small sandwich). The owner of the Sabai @ Kan (our hotel) collected us from the bus station shortly after we arrived and whisked us to our mini-paradise for a four night stay. I assume that most people haven’t heard the name Kanchanaburi, but may have heard the term ‘Bridge over (or on) the River Kwai’ (think Christmas day movies) – well this is the home of said bridge (even if the movie was filmed in Sri Lanka). What’s more is that Kanchanaburi is quite a little in hot spot of tourist activities including waterfalls, hot springs, elephants and even tigers – perfect entertainment fodder for a couple of eager tourists like us.

Kanchanaburi WWII War Cemetery-very moving

After an early morning Thai Massage (10am now counts as early morning for us) day one turned out to be a bit of a ‘Dan’ day with visits to all things WWII- including the very emotionally moving war cemetery holding thousands of Dutch and British graves. Horrifying as the cemetery is, the worst thing is that rather than being killed in battle most of these twentysomethings died as a result of starvation, exhaustion and disease while conscripted as Japanese slave labour (building the Bridge over the River Kwai, Hellfire Pass and the remainder of the Thai-Burmese railway). We learned more about what happened and how awful the conditions were at the new museum directly opposite the cemetery.

We got up early on day two for a grand tour of local tourist spots. The minibus whipped us off to a famous (well in Thailand anyway) waterfall to start with – unfortunately somebody had stolen the water and the waterfall looked quite crap (too dry in this season) so the highlight of this bit of the trip was the cassava chips that the local shopkeeper badgered Monali into buying.

Hellfire pass

Stop two was Hellfire Pass and related museum. Like the museum back in Kanchanaburi it is a very moving tribute to those who died to complete this mammoth infrastructure project. After we looked around the museum we walked down to the pass itself. The pass is silent and offers little reminder of the horrendous conditions the workers face, however the thick rock at either side of the pathway gives plenty of indication that forging a pass here was not easy . Spookily a very tall solitary tree has taken root at the centre of the path through the pass – intentional or not it is a beautiful and in some ways sends a fitting message that a new beginning can grow out of the ashes of such evil and heartbreak.

Being tourists

We ate an awful lunch at a roadside shack and from there headed to a small village to partake in an Elephant trek and bamboo raft ride. We didn’t feel particularly good about ourselves after stepping off the elephant as they did all of the hard work in miserably hot conditions (some of the hills they took us up were very steep) – however, we tried to make amends through bribery, bananas being the favoured currency around here.  The older (mother) of the elephants seemed to lack sniffing power with her trunk and so had to be fed directly to mouth – a daunting experience when you see the size of her mouth and tongue and wonder if her lack of sniffing power also means she can’t tell the difference between a banana and my hand. Monali had the (unplanned) privilege of putting her whole hand into the elephant’s mouth and came out with a hand dripping in sticky saliva.

Feeding Dumbo (the elephant not me)

We jumped on flat bamboo rafts from the elephant drop off point which took us back to the village. I even had a go at punting, very nearly falling on three or more occasions – seems that ‘Captain’ Dan is not quite as talented (or slender) as the locals. The experience was fun and relaxing though as the cold fast moving water cooled our hot feet. Monali in particular enjoyed the activity sitting comfortably at the back sunning herself the entire trip like the regal princess she is!

Princess

The best experience of day was back at the village where a young couple were celebrating their wedding. Thai people are much like the British when it comes to wedding celebrations with alcohol playing a very important role. The locals here all sat around a small table covered with a multitude of different shaped glasses, 5 bottles of whiskey and three crates of beer. The men insisted we join them and handed me an iced concoction of (I think) beer and whiskey. Then before we knew an old fella started up on some guitar like musical instrument and the village women were around us dancing. Being the only man in our party they dragged me up to dance within a nano second or two. However, after a few minute they realised that (a) even after imbibing some strange Thai drink I am still really crap at dancing and (b) there was a single lady in our tour group who they could try and convince to marry one of the eligible bachelors getting smashed at the drinks table. Much Thai-English banter ensued until the our mini-bus turned up whereupon our guide looked a little worried about the fact I’d drunk the local brew and whisked us off in a hurry for the day’s finale.

Keith Richards of Thailand

The happy couple

The last part of the trip was a train journey along the death railway (called for the number of POWs and local Asians that were killed making it). Sadly the train is packed full of tourists like us and so it is very difficult to look out the windows to see the POW’s accomplishments. The bus then dropped us off at the bridge itself and we wandered across to take a look at the destruction it had incurred from allied bombing. It was fixed after the war as part of Japanese reparations and the bridge is still used on a daily basis (hopefully they give the 1000’s of tourist fair warning to get off the bridge beforehand).

Nice bridge, crap photograph (sorry)

We were very excited for our penultimate day in Kanchanaburi as we were to visit the Tiger Temple – home of the cuddly tigers. The temple gets a mixed press about whether it is doing a good job in tiger preservation or a bad thing in breeding animals into captivity. We really wanted to see and get close to the tigers so we decided on going ahead hoping that we would not be  saddened or disappointed by our choice to support them.

Nice pussy cat

The ‘bus’ (or pickup truck with roof) picked us up that afternoon and drove us 30mins into the wilderness. The temple is a forest monastery and cares for all animals (with exception of tiger food one presumes) so we passed cows, buffalos, chickens, emus and deer along the driveway and throughout the complex. We walked down to tiger canyon where the big cats sleep off the hot afternoon in the shade of the cliffs. One by one we teamed up with a member of staff who took us around and let us stroke 10 or so of the tigers – you get progressively more confident with each contact, though still respectful enough to reject any suggestion by the staff that you pull his tail! After that they drop you back at the start and you can watch all the other people go around.

Sad that they are not with their mother

All in all it was a nice experience – the animals appeared well looked after, are certainly not drugged despite common speculation we heard before hand(they all kept getting up and adjusting themselves) and the monastery is at least increasing the number of tigers in the world.  However, it is rather sad that tiger cubs are separated from their mothers at birth in order that they don’t act tiger (i.e. eat you) – we saw some of the cubs and adorable as they are, you have to think they’d better off being naturally reared.

Other cute animals also live at the temple (hopefully not tiger food)

After the dusty pickup truck ride back to the hotel, we packed and prepared to leave the next day. We were travelling to Ayutthaya,  a previous capital of Thailand with a multitude of historical remains and sacred temples.

Baby squid (dinner from the night market)

Bangkok

Ah Bangkok the favourite of grey haired, pot-bellied London taxi drivers and international table tennis champions. We’d only ever seen Bangkok and its new international airport on news reports about some guys in yellow or red shirts, however we were less concerned about revolutions and instead being more wary  about the taxi touts and scams we’d read about in the Lonely Planet.  Not to worry – ever anal (and sad) I had checked the ‘Youtube’ videos the night before which actually guide you from arrivals to taxi rank – and so with hotel address in quivering hand we quickly made our way down to the ground floor and jumped into a perfectly safe, metered honest taxi.

And this is how it continued. We had read and been told stories about gem scams, pickpockets and a go-go girls, but Bangkok seemed as safe as a Saudi Arabia is to a former North African leader. Perhaps it is the fact that our senses and suspicions are currently set to max after nearly two months in India, but it felt like such a pleasure to relax in a clean, orderly and relatively spacious city.

Even the sculptures are a little racy

Our hotel was in the Sukhummvit area of Bangkok. Sukhummvit is a fairly prosperous area of the city (very prosperous for some of the girls of ‘Soi Cowboy’ - more on that later) and is very well connected thanks to the ‘Skylink’ an elevated metro system that connects Bangkok.

In front of the snow scene from 'The Empire Strikes Back' sad, but cool

We spent most of our first day exploring and sampling the delights of our favourite cuisine. My particular highlight was the very cool Star Wars Lego expo in one of the swanky shopping centres. If only shopping centres around the world would realise that men have no place (or utility) when it comes to shopping. Some form of man crèche facility with lures such as Playstations and other attractions (toys with age range 8-14) would keep us happy.

More grey heads than a post office on pension day

We found different types of attractions for men that evening in an area (best ‘googled’ from home) known as ‘Soi Cowboy’.  Fortunately (in Thailand at least) the ‘entertainment’ here appeared within an age range that was legal, but not respectable when you consider the age of the grey haired gentlemen most often seen disappearing with them. A rule here for those of you with grey-haired colleagues, friends and even family that are male and heading to Thailand (or SE Asia) alone or with a group of men – THEY ARE COMING FOR THAI LADIES!  

Soi Cowboy is one of three areas known for Sex Tourism in Bangkok – the area is also very welcoming to those interested in watching what goes on – so we took an early evening drink at ringside. The place is crawling with western men talking, fondling, disappearing or waiting to do one or more of these things with Thai ladies a third their age and nobody bats an eyelid. From what we have seen there are lots of different sides to ‘sex tourism’ in Thailand, but in this neighbourhood (or market) it seems fairly ‘transactional’ if you know what I mean.  

We were in the market for goods rather than services, so we headed off to the local nightmarket to pick up bad quality DVDs and get a preview of the excellent shopping that Bangkok had in store.

Chatuchat market

The next day we headed off to the local weekend shopping destination ‘Chatuchak market’ near Mo Chit  (pronounced exactly as if it were an episode of ‘the Wire’) in Northern Bangkok. This place can only be described as Camden Market on speed. The market is massive with stall after stall of clothes in one area, a section devoted to household and antiques, flowers and plants in another, food stalls dotted everywhere inbetween and then in the middle of it all a load of stalls with adorable dogs, cats and rabbits (for petting, not eating....I think). We bought a few items with an eye on a few thousand more, even inquiring at the DHL shop as to how much  shipping might cost (the place seems a haven for those with boutiques in Europe / USA buying job lots of Buddha’s and other ‘exotic’ wares).

Funky rabbit

Heading home we decided to get some food and alighted the Skytrain at Siam Square. Having just been to Chatuchak we thought we had ‘done’ Bangkok shopping, how wrong we were. Siam Square may just look like a swanky mall (with free candy floss and funky rabbit statues???), but the area around is crammed full of yet more market type stalls selling everything – it’s great fun, but bewildering, confusing and critically it’s exhausting so we grabbed some food, a bubble milk tea and headed home.

Free candyfloss

Retail therapy over, we decided next day that we really ought to do some culture. So we travelled to the temple area of Bangkok via Skytrain and public ferry.  First stop Grand Palace and cue another top tip – read and take note of your guide book when in foreign climes (a) Dan yes you do need long trousers and (b) Monali no you can’t just use a shawl to cover your shoulders. Luckily the Thais are far more organised and anticipate hapless tourists such as us, they provide free clothing to make us ‘respectable’ (if a little ridiculous) enough to enter.

Great trousers

The temple and palace is a very beautiful place with (according to our free Thai guide) the longest painting (mural) in the world that depicts the national story of Thailand (read flying monkeys team up with Thai fellas to rescue some Princess – Darth Vader pales in comparison). The highlight of the temple area is the Jade Buddha. For some reason before you go into the room that contains the sacred little green chap, everybody puts some holy water on their head with a big flower bud – a bucket would be more efficient perhaps, but who am I to argue with two and a half millennia of history (its 2554 in Thailand right now – yes that’s right we are 544 years ahead of you and England still haven’t won the world cup). The Buddha himself is majestic, perched high upon a throne like pyramid of gold and gems. His clothing is changed three times a year by the King of Thailand – an intricate pure gold costume for spring, summer and winter. We filed out of this very crammed hall and headed toward the palace itself. Sadly the interior was closed due to the late hour of the day. The surroundings were immaculate though and very relaxing especially in comparison to the madness of every day Bangkok.

Star Wars Episode VII: The return of the princess

Still yearning for more culture (and a massage) we headed to Wat Po – home of the reclining Buddha and a highly reputed massage school. The Buddha is pretty awe inspiring when seen for the first time – a massive golden smiling face greets your arrival into the hall that must be 40/50ft in length to incorporate the icon’s body. On the way out devotees make monetary offerings to Him placing coins one by one into 30 or 40 consecutive collecting bowls.

After paying our respects to the big man, we decided on a Thai massage at Wat Po’s massage school. It is a little more expensive than most places, but the training and resulting skill of the employees means that it was one of the best treatments we have had.

We headed back to civilisation after that – back to the craziness of Siam Square where we had researched  a great place for ‘replica’ items – the MBK centre. After a spot of (expensive) dinner in the ‘interntional’ food court (strategically place one floor below the much cheaper local version) we hit the shops. I picked up a very reasonable Bell & Ross lookalike for £25, however Monali couldn’t find one to match her taste – bring on Hong Kong! Unfortunately it was getting late and we were tired so we missed much of the centre deciding to head home instead and get some sleep prior to catching the bus to Kanchanaburi the next morning.

Singapore

Delhi

We spent the night in Delhi before flying out to Singapore early the next day. For those of you who have been to Delhi, you will understand why I don’t elaborate on this idyllic den of vice. For those of you who haven’t, then you can count yourself lucky you haven’t been ripped off.  Delhiites are infamous throughout India for being completely morally corrupt. Dan and I stayed at the Marriot in Gurgaon and had several issues with the hotel and staff, (which I won’t bore you with) but due to our excellent complaining skills, managed to get ourselves 20,000 extra Marriott points.  It really does pay to complain!

Singapore

We landed in Singapore airport and immediately a felt sense of calm. Singapore airport is a beautiful and ORGANISED airport.  A cheap and yet efficient airport bus picked us up and dropped us off directly at the hotel. Driving through the city, the main thing that stuck me after being in India for two months was the cleanliness. I always thought I would find Singapore be a very sterile city as I like a bit of dirt in my cities, but it was incredibly refreshing to see no garbage on the streets, no line of men peeing on the side of the street, no piles of dog (or human) excrement on the street, no beggars or homeless people on the street and no-one chasing you down the street trying to sell you yet another useless trinket. Don’t get me wrong-I love India but it is also nice to leave. I did however miss the aroma of spice in the air.

After arriving at our hotel, we ventured off for a late dinner at a food court close by - the selection while a little bewildering (serpents head anybody?) was most exciting to gluttons like us. I was quite surprised that  it really was not as clean as I would have thought it would be.  I think what put me off this particular establishment was the fact that majority of the patrons seemed to like leaving large mounds of meat scraps and bones on the table after they were done eating - not exactly appetising!

The next day, Dan and I woke up early and decided to take the cable car into Sentosa Island. Sentosa is the equivalent of a very large theme park. There are several different activities (or ways to part with your singapore dollar) including the aquarium, 4D rides, luge and skylifts (luges are essentially bobsleds on wheels), butterfly park, light shows etc. As we had limited time, Dan and I decided to visit the Aquarium, the Luge and finally the Skylift (far to lazy to walk back up the hill).

The Aquarium was your standard salty water, fish smelling, lots of little kids with ice cream hands type of thing  incorporating the common or garden dolphin show. What was impressive in the acquarium was the large tunnel which you could walk through featuring some very large sharks (no white sharks to my distress but probably to the relief of the ‘experience’ divers in the tunnel).  

After a spot of lunch at the on-site food court (no Nemo burgers sadly) we got the free bus to the luge. This was pretty cool for lazy types like us - fast adrenaline inducing downhill fun via a windy track with zero effort required and then a ski lift contraption back up for a another try (again zero effort).

We took the cable car back to the main Island and decided to explore Chinatown. We went to the Hawker centre and looked at the many things we could potentially buy if we had luggage space and jobs.   Thoroughly depressed, we then went off in search of the historic Raffles Hotel which apparently is a must-see when visiting Singapore (embarrassingly Dan seems to need to take lots of pictures of such sights, eliminating anybody actually thinking that we might be staying there - that and our North Face fleeces). To quote Wikipedia as I am far too lazy to describe it for you - ‘Raffles Hotel (Chinese: 莱佛士酒店) is a colonial-style hotel in Singapore, dating from 1887, and named after Singapore's founder Sir Stamford Raffles. Its aluminium-finish and simple geometric designs gave a stark, modernist contrast to Victorian architecture and classical architecture’. So yes, it was very nice and then we had dinner in the adjoining shopping centre as our budget no longer allows for expensive dinners (sob).

We carried on our walking tour of Singapore and passed the amazing building which is the Marina Bay Sands. Singapore has some really beautiful architecture and the Marina Bay Sands is no exception. It was opened very recently in 2010 and consists of three essentially curved buildings with what looks like a very large concrete ship on it. We unfortunately didn’t have time to visit it but gives us something to do next time and some more aspirations as to where we would want to stay!

We were knackered after all this - so we tried a couple more shops, a mad market and then hopped on Singapore's very efficient and clean metro service home.

Next morning, we hopped on the flight to Bankok dreaming of all the chillis awaiting us-our own version of heaven.

Mumbai

An unexpected announcement from the cockpit on final approach always rattles the nerves. Perhaps I have watched too many episodes of ‘Seconds from Disaster’, but that ‘Ding Dong’ noise goes right through me. However, our descent in Mumbai was not delayed due to any problems with our aircraft, but due to a suspected fire on another (a cargo plane) cue sigh of relief and mental calculations as to how long a 737 can circle for and whether we might be able to make it to Pune instead.

Monali's cousin's children (you may recognise them from the wedding!)

Of course my concern was completely out of place and we all landed safely into Mumbai’s airport. The airport (for those who don’t know it) is located in central Mumbai and the approach gives unbelievable views of the city and especially the slum. Shack upon shack are stacked so tightly together, and in some cases so close to the airport that the genius slum builders have used the airport wall as the back wall of their home.

Monali’s cousin and his family kindly offered to put us up while we were in Mumbai. He also very kindly picked us up, stopping on the way back to pick ‘mishtidoi’ (sweet yoghurt), Monali’s favourite dessert. Well we call it dessert, Monali’s strong held opinion on the subject of sweets and sugar based products is that it is actually demeaning to call them just ‘desserts’ and that they should be treated as appetisers, main course and perhaps even the cheese course.

Crab for dinner

That evening we diluted some of the sugar by dining on seafood at a restaurant called Gajalee. The food was divine, best of all were the crab sticks (crab claws covered in crab meat and cooked in the tandoor). After dinner Monali’s cousin drove us downtown for a night time tour. We saw numerous houses of the rich and famous including the ‘Ambani’s’ house (Google it!), the new ‘sealink’ bridge (very impressive), marine drive and the Trident hotel (scene of the 26/11 shootings in 2008). Mumbai certainly looked a lot more modern than anywhere else I had seen in India.

The next day we succumbed to this modernity and hit the Phoenix Mills mall. It is very depressing to wander around all those fantastic new shops, many of which are offering better prices than at home knowing that (a) you are on a budget and (b) your rucksack will explode with the tiniest additional purchase. We cheered ourselves up by eating chicken kathi rolls at the food court instead.

The unpleasant path to Haji Ali

After the mall we visited Haji Ali Mosque which is set out in the sea (on the site where Haji Ali’s body is supposed to have floated to) connected to the mainland by a causeway. The mosque was tremendously busy and a little intimidating as a result. People seemed more inquisitive than threatening especially at the mosque itself, but the sight of disfigured children begging at 5 metre intervals on the causeway along with the smell of the human and other waste in the bay meant we quickly completed our tour.

Outside a very busy Haji Ali

We took a taxi back to the apartment which took 2 hours to drive the 14/15 km journey. The traffic here is crazy – nothing moves very fast, which means you are a target for hawker and beggar at every traffic light. Most of them quickly move off when you decline, however the Hijra’s (groups of transsexual who make a living by demanding money and cursing those who refuse to donate) are quite persistent – stupidly we gave one of them some money (too much money) which then just made her (him) worse. After that episode we developed excellent poker faces ignoring all approaches at traffic stops.

On our second day we got up early to go the Elephanta caves. Indians (and this may apply to the rest of Asia?) are totally crap at getting up and out early. As a result our taxi to the Gateway of India took 45 mins (the same journey that took 2 hours the previous day) and the boat to the island on which the caves are present was empty. The boat journey takes about an hour and is pretty boring, so boring that one group of young Indian men decided to occupy themselves by continually swapping seats such that each could sit next to me and have his photo taken with ‘the white man’.

The Gateway of India

The temple caves themselves are wonderful and made us a little sad that we had not planned to go see the larger complexes in Ajanta and Ellora. They are believed to have been built sometime between AD 450 and 750, the name Elephanta was given by the Portuguese as there used to be  a large Elephant shaped rock near the shore (moved by the British to a Mumbai museum after it collapsed a hundred years ago or so).

Spotty deity

Which one is the Pussy Cat?

Looking to get a taxi home we wandered down the main street of Colaba past a heavily fortified Leopold’s bar / restaurant. Leopold’s is a famous tourist hang out and features heavily in the book Shantaram (great read) where the ex-pat protagonist uses the bar to meet his pals. Sadly it is also famous as another location targeted by terrorists a couple of years back.

 As we crossed the road (avoiding the numerous heavily armed policemen) I was approached by a man who (in his words) ‘was from Bollywood’ and would I like to be in a movie. Seems that all hip Bollywood flicks now have to have at least one act full of foreigners, but there are never enough extras. Fearing that Aishwarya Rai or some other  Bollywood beauty might fall for me I declined the offer, but am still wondering if it could have been my calling!

You cannot escape Bollywood anywhere in India and least of all here and so we decided to go to the cinema that evening. Being a self-confessed idiot when it comes to the cultural appreciation and entertainment value of these drama-action-musical-religious epics we chose to indulge in a bit of Jolie-Depp action instead. Forking out a whole 300 INR a ticket seemed a little steep until we found out what the ‘premium’ section was all about. Think red velvet, fully electrically adjustable ‘lazy boy chairs’ with soft mood lighting and plenty of space – seems when the Indians design luxury they style for brothel, but the comfort was undeniable. In fact it was by far the best bit of ‘The Tourist’, yet another film where we are teased by the presence of an acting god (Depp) only to have our hopes dashed by a crap story. At least Angelina was as foxy as ever (although she pales in comparison with Monali of course).  

We spent our last full day in Mumbai wandering around Andheri West the area where we had been staying.  The area feels very relaxed in comparison the hustle bustle of tourist Mumbai. Perhaps as a result the prices around here also great – we indulged in 70 rupee chicken rolls at lunch time and I got a haircut and shave for 150 rupees (admittedly i could have bargained this down given my lack of hair).

We ended the day by walking down the park where it seems the entire grey-haired population of Mumbai takes exercise each evening. For the men (and a few women) this involves walking laps of the (small) park trying to dodge all the other octogenarians – the paths were full of them, all dressed for exercise - exactly the same clothes they always – shirt pants or sari only the footwear being changed to a pair of very white sports shoes.

We woke up early the next day and bid farewell to the family and jumped in a taxi to the airport for a flight to Delhi – we had one day left in India before we headed to SE Asia.  

Kerala

We left Ooty at 9.30am bound for Cochin (new name Kochi) in Kerala around 300km to the south. This is a journey that would take around three hours in the UK, however in India it takes precisely FOREVER.

The first part of the journey entails an hour or so of driving down switchback roads with no side barriers and a multitude of obstacles such as monkeys, rocks, pilgrims and huge big buses coming the other way. One devotee (who it seems isn’t spending enough time talking with his god) was innocently making his way down the hill when he was knocked over by the large truck in front of us. Neither party seemed happy.

We felt comfortable enough to breath once more once we reached Coimbatore. This town marks the end of the descent and the border between Tamil Nadu and Kerala. The pain for us was not over as now our driver (who doesn’t speak or read English, the local lingo or maps) gets exceptionally nervous about missing the Keralan border and accompanying toll booth. As a result he made us honorary navigators. I’m not sure how many times he asked “Kerala?” and we replied “no, Tamil Nadu”, but by we were exceptionally relieved to see the sign announcing that we finally were entering ‘Gods’ Own Country’.

However, the fun did not end there – a combination of “Einstein’s” (our quickly coined nickname for Hussain our driver) lack of literacy and India’s strange road signing (consistency is not considered vital here with the Cochin Road signposted variously as Cochin, Kochi, Fort Kochi, Ernauklam or not at all) meant that we had to confirm the direction of travel at every green sign post.

We reached Fort Kochi 9 hours later at 6.30pm. We were exhausted and happy to find that our accommodation was clean and our hosts very hospitable. We had the obligatory 60 minutes of discussion with the driver as to what the costs should be, but eventually we came to an agreement. We grabbed a bite to eat and then went to bed, excited about exploring our new home.

Jewtown

Next morning, Firoz (the owner of our guesthouse) gave us a quick briefing of the local sights and we wandered into town. We stated off in Jewtown which was once home to a large Jewish population, now much diminished after the establishment of Israel. As the Jews moved out, the traders (and their touts) moved in- the place is flooded with antique stores, souvenir shops and overpriced waterfront cafes. Its all very pleasant, but a little bit too sanitised for our taste.

We wandered on from Jewtown towards Fort Kochi past a multitude of old warehouses and workshops all of which will likely be worth lots of money given their proximity to the picturesque seafront. Fort Kochi is a bustling  little place with tourists from all over India and the world.  We sat by the Chinese Fishing Nets watching the birds float past sitting on little islands of pollution.

Chinese Fishing Nets

After a couple of days in Kochi we headed off to the backwaters for which Kerala is famous. We had booked a palace (The Green Palace Resort to be exact) and first impressions were great as we were met at the dock by our boatman.

Blissfully unaware of the hotel to come!

However we should have paid more attention to the strong smell of liquor coming off the boatman’s breath rather than the beautiful surroundings as this place turned out to be awful. First it poured down with rain (not the hotel’s fault) resulting in leaks all over the room (the hotels fault). Then we spotted the bugs all over the sheets and carcasses all over the room – heaven. Finally the bathroom stank like a sewer and had a door made of cardboard. We could not move that night so we forced them to erect a (very dirty) mosquito net and conducted a romantic torch lit insect vigil until morning.

The view from room number one

We moved rooms the next day only to be immediately confronted by more bugs in the bed, a disgusting bathroom (where the water from the cistern flushed out onto the floor) and a mouse. Yes another, bloody mouse! Luckily (or unluckily for the mouse) we trapped him under a cupboard using a large standing fan. We called the hotel owner who initially categorically denied that there was a mouse in the room until I showed him a little tail sticking out from under the cupboard. This deeply Christian man (he lectured another guest on the bible) then took a boat oar and bludgeoned poor Micky to death. The Keralan Mouse Murderer then left with a smile on his face and not a hint of an apology – we decided it was time to depart.

Urrgh

Note the fan holding back the ferocious mouse!

We spent the next two days back in Kochi with Firoz. His place was a world apart with good a/c and a fantastic bathroom. Kochi is also really nice with a relaxed, cosmopolitan feel and some great Southern Indian Food. We took time to enjoy the specialities of the south:

We had an authentic Ayuverdic massage – performed on a very hard wooden table by two masseurs who have been expertly trained in pouring copious amounts of oil and hurting every muscle in your body. This is followed by a sit in the steam bath – one of those box type things where only your head sticks out. Painful, intimidating (look up ‘lungi’) experience, but makes you feel great afterwards.

Trapped in a steam box

 We ate the New Anadan Bhaven which is a very ‘local’ restaurant complete with large flying cockroaches who decided to entertain themselves chasing Monali out the front door. I had no idea she could move so fast (or scream so loud). However the food was that great we returned the next day for lunch whereupon the owner’s completely spoiled us by continually bringing us different types of food to try and only charging about £1.50 for the privilege.

75 INR of food