Three Nights in Bangkok
So after our previous bus experience, we decide that it would be money well spent to fly to Bangkok from Siem Reap instead of an 8 hour bus ride. Not only would we gain half a day in Bangkok, but we would also save ourselves the monster bus ride.
The first thing we figured out about Bangkok–you have to move forward with the understanding that everyone in the city is trying to cheat you. Everyone.
Our first night in Bangkok was the hotel that was included in our tour–the last night. Horrible. The hotel obviously understands that everyone in Bangkok will try to cheat you, so they operate with the mentality that hotel guests will do the same. In each guest room, there is a list of every article inside the room and the cost for that article (everything from a towel to a lamp). Break it or take it, you will be charged. Want a key? You have to leave a cash deposit. During our check-in, Marc handed them a credit card. No–cash only. I have never heard of such craziness. This wasn’t problematic for us as we were staying in Thailand for quite some time, but fellow travelers were leaving the next day. They wanted to use up their Thai Bath–not come home with the equivalent of 35 USD. Trying to exit the hotel, we were constantly accosted by ner do well tuk tuk drivers, permitted to solicit tourists in the lobby.
We had “included” in the cost of the ride from the airport to the hotel a city tour. A guide in a car picked us up and took us to a temple with a massive reclining Buddha which was impressive. Not a bad start.
Then the guide told us that we were going to a stone museum. I was excited that we were going to Royal Lapidary–so excited in fact that I took a picture of the outside sign. On arrival there was a girl sorting through various Thai Sapphires which is the country’s specialty. A few more meters in and through a special doorway was a huge jewelry showroom. Yep, they were pushing, hard, for us to buy jewelry. I kept explaining that we just got married and Marc had already bought me a lovely ring and we weren’t in the market for diamonds. How about your birth stone? I of course make things much more complicated by being born in April and therefore diamonds are my birth stone.
We went to another jewelry store (we walked in only for the welcome drink) and a tailor. We bought nothing. They weren’t pleased.
A mother daughter Swedish team on our tour went on a similar city tour and flat out refused to go to the jewelry store. We of course were fooled by the stone museum and royal lapidary. We’re suckers–I know.
That night we went to the Back packers road–Khao San Road. You can get everything and anything here. Want an Ontario health card? A driver’s license from Maine? An EU media pass? Everything. Also, down the center of this street–which is busting with people, everyone is cooking the most random things and the smells are horrible. It was pungent and a bit much for Kitty and the Germ. Hair extensions were the hot ticket item on the street. Using candle wax (from a candle) they bonded the long locks in. What was extra hot were the dread lock extensions you could get. I tried to convince Marc that it would be really funny–but he flat out refused. Chinese guys, Australian guys–everyone seemed to be doing it.
The following morning, we got up early and went to the Grand Palace. On our short walk there, everyone kept stopping us letting us know that we wouldn’t be allowed in because of our inappropriate attire. You could see my ankles (I was wearing low cropped Lulu’s and a black T-shirt–I was fully covered) they of course wanted to take us to their stores so we could buy the appropriate attire. Someone told me that he had read in Lonely Planet that it is common for people to accost tourists outside of the palace, convince them that it is closed, but will take them on a city tour–and we know how that turns out.
Inside the Grand Palace, we found out that Marc’s knee length shorts weren’t long enough and he had to borrow a pair of purple pants. He looked like he was wearing hospital scrubs. I laughed my ass off at the site of him. He left a deposit for the pants and away we went to tour the Palace.
The Palace was grand and gold–it felt very shiny and new, and I kept saying–Vegas style. That was it. It absolutely felt like the new hotel on the strip–The Grand Thai Palace Hotel.
The Palace was indeed nothing short of impressive. It was huge and fully restored. We witnessed the changing of Buddha statue’s clothes. Yep. The Buddha statue has a summer outfit and a winter outfit that they ceremoniously change with the seasons. We walked in during the removal of Buddha’s outfit. Sacrilege and not PC to say, but it really felt like dress up dolly. We were in disbelief. Really? You’re changing the outfits? I used to play that game with my Barbies…
We returned Marc’s borrowed pants, got our deposit back and made our way back to the hotel. We couldn’t move quick enough to get out of our shit hotel and into the brand new JW Marriott.
When we were being escorted to our room, the girl asked if we were going to Loy Krathong festival. It was an annual festival that lasted 3 days. This was the final night. The big night. We asked what time it was happening and she said it would get started around 6 pm. We had already made dinner reservations at Bed Supperclub–one of Jeff’s recommendations, but it was a late res and figured we could do it all.
We made our way down to the river. We hoped on a boat to take us to the Mandarin Oriental and arrived just in time to see the entire staff, dressed in costume make a grand entrance with music, drums, huge floats–full of flowers, candles and sculptures that would be lit up, and sending floating down the river.
We were pumped. We waited. We waited. Every now and then we saw a teeny tiny flower float make its way down the river. The clock was ticking. Our reservations. Jeff’s recommendation. We wanted to see the thousand floats, all magically lit up come down the river. We were sure it was going to be a once in a life time experience. We waited. WTF? The girl at the hotel had clearly lied to us. We had our purchases with us and were looking haggard from a long day. I then had the great idea of going back to the hotel, changing and insisting that they get us a waterfront reservation since the girl led us astray and we missed our highly anticipated hot reservation at the Bed Supperclub. Back we went, changed with rapid speed, had the hotel make us a reservation. We flew back to the water in a taxi, (as fast as you can fly in the notorious Bangkok grid lock traffic) in time to see the damn float parade.
We made it to the local restaurant that the hotel recommends. We’re totally overdressed. We see some fire works–big deal. We want to see flowers with candles floating down the river. Fire works? Canada Day, Victoria Day, Fourth of July–fire works are available multiple times a year and we’re not really fire works people (unlike Michel who just can’t get enough of them). Anyhow, while walking to a different hotel, we see one of the big floats that we saw earlier in the evening –being carried by hotel staff back to someone’s car. Seriously? The damn floats were for show and since the night was so windy, nothing was staying lit. Total bust. We were a bit gutted, starving (still no dinner), and no floating flower magic.
We officially hate Bangkok.