Boats, Tuk-Tuks, Buses and Planes: Bye-Bye, Bangkok!

Farewell, Thailand.  Sawadi-ka!

 The last sounds we heard in Rayong were the morning chirping of frogs in the pond outside our bungalow. Our arrival in Bangkok was a stark change. Every ten minutes, from our high rise hotel room, we endured the roar of the airport monorail passing meters away from the windows and rattling the fixtures.   At around two in the morning, a young woman in the hallway (or was it on the street) let out a shrill shriek of joy (or was it bloodcurdling, ear piercing terror…) and with that restful night (not), we headed into a busy day.




We jumped into one of the canal boats that speed through the hidden spider web of arteries that connect Bangkok.  The stench of raw sewage and the crush of more than 100 people per boat made the claustrophobic ride less than appealing.  The slick, black water splashed into the open sides of the crowded boat, as we traveled for more than an hour to get to the famous temple, Wat  Po. Still, the river boats were faster than a taxi, bus or tuk-tuk in the traffic clogged streets.

 Every tourist and local in Bangkok (who was not entangled in a traffic jam) was visiting Wat Po on this Buddhist holiday.  But it had taken us nearly an hour and a half to get to the temple, and we were not about to be elbowed out of the way by a bunch of devotees when it came to seeing the largest reclining Buddha in the world.  We shoved our way in, took some photos, felt overcome by the heat and crowds and decided to head back to the hotel. One bus, two boat rides, one very nice bathroom in an automobile showroom, and two hours later, we were back on our side of town.


The silver lining of our last day in Thailand was a delicious dinner with Tiger, who had been kind enough to drive us to our airport hotel.  We ate our Thai favorites, Tom Ka Gai soup, ground duck salad, seafood salad and greens in garlic sauce.  We topped off the meal with frosty lemonade slushies; the cool, sweet liquid a wonderful contrast to the sultry heat that slipped away with the evening darkness.  


By Ilana Long