Baulking at Bangkok

The last few days in Laos passed with only one minor glitch, and that was alcohol poisoning. It all started with an innocent boat trip up the river, in search of a nice beach to spend some time with the some of the other guys at King Kong Guesthouse. It was a chance to get away from the premises, which has that quality that once relaxed it’s hard to pull yourself away. Weeks slip by barely noticed, and barely moving off the property. So we decided on a guys boat trip, our own mini booze cruise. Two crates of beer and a bottle of whisky seemed to do the job nicely, I didn’t even feel that plastered when we finally set off back home. So it came as a bit of a surprise to suddenly find myself hurling my stomach contents from the balcony of a bar into the river. There again, once being reminded that I’d not eaten since breakfast it wasn’t that much of a surprise. It wrecked my system for days though; I’m only now managing to eat decent amounts of food again, four days later. Will I never learn? Probably not! (Photo: Charcoal burner - Don Det, Laos)

It was with slight trepidation that I set off, once more into the fast lane. The pace of life is so slow in Don Det it comes as a shock to enter the realms of a hectic transport system. It was more than that though, I hadn’t caught a bus and had to mingle with the hoards on public transport for months. My temptation was to keep myself to myself and ignore everyone else, but that isn’t really in my nature. I made the most of what company I had, it passed the time much quicker. But for the last leg of the journey I was almost the only foreigner on the bus, to get a good seat I was the sole farang on the lower deck. Also being the first to take a seat there I got the best place, so quietly tucked myself into a blanket and slept for about nine of the twelve hour journey. Now and again my eyelids lifted momentarily, only to slide shut once realising it was still dark outside. (Photo: Keeping cool in the mid-day sun - Don Det, Laos)

And then I hit Bangkok. I’ve never stayed here before, always arrived and left within the same day. My only view of the city had been of the vicinity around central rail station, a particularly hectic part of the city. With no guide book I followed the simple advice of a fellow traveler and headed for a district away from Koa San Road, the notorious hangout of backpackers. If the area I’ve come to is quiet in comparison I’m glad I did so, the girly bars and tourist restaurants are everywhere. The tourists damned near outnumber the locals, and bearing in mind I termed Phnom Penh as Sin City, the numbers of western guys here in the company of local women is phenomenal. The first person that attracted my attention was an offer of getting together by a lovely looking Thai woman; at least I think it was a woman. It made no difference, it’s not what I’m here for and I still find the whole situation a bit sordid. (Photo: Monkey man - Don Det, Laos)

Prostitution doesn’t disgust me, it just isn’t my thing! Being a romantic at heart I can’t quite bring myself to pretend there is anything genuine about the situation. It can be argued that many of the girls here aren’t charging for their services directly, a little more subtlety is in play. Enjoy the company of an escort, keep them fed and watered, treat them to a gift or two, and the rest is part and parcel of the game. I can never take my mind of the plain fact that most of these girls/women are desperate to find themselves a sugar daddy, any chance to improve their lot in life. Without doubt there are a hell of a lot of attractive Thai women, but I can’t ignore the feeling that’s it’s taking advantage of their desperate situation. Chances are few and far between for the average Thai, as in the rest of SE Asia, I’d prefer not to be left feeling I’d satiated my sexual desires by throwing a handful of money at someone. (Photo: Improvised bodyboard - Don Det, Laos)

The city was a necessary evil, I had to sit and take stock of what lies ahead of me. Ideas of where to head next filled my head, with plenty of choices and no information I had to look at my options. And it’s just as well I did, the islands I’d set my mind on next are in the throws of monsoon and nothing will be open for another few months. So instead of combing the streets for some form of entertainment I’ve holed up in my hotel room and researched routes and modes of transport to get there. No information has been found to suggest I could have brought my Vietnamese bike into Thailand, especially as it isn’t even in my name. There are few other options, I done the right thing by selling it in Laos, and I think it would be a short lived association to buy another here, I’d only have to sell it again before entering Malaysia. From this point on island hopping is to be the mainstay of my journey, a bike would be a hindrance, though not altogether impossible if I bought one for each country I enter. (Photo: One boatman and his buffalo - Don Det, Laos)

There seems to be a pattern emerging between my Americas trip and this one. Initial months went with a fast and furious pace, covering many miles and many countries with barely a breath between. Now I’ve slowed down drastically, just as I did then. And I’ve started finding it a bit boring at times, well, not necessarily boring, maybe just a touch tedious. Hanging around other westerners makes a nice change after being alone for months on end, but not for too long. My feet start itching, I get dissatisfied being in the same place for weeks on end, I want to be on the road again. The trouble can be regaining my momentum, which takes a while each time I stop for more than a few days. I guess it’s at the stage where I now feel I’m winding down for the end of my journey. I’m not ready to go home yet, but still my reserves are running low. It isn’t a matter of feeling lonely, yet I do feel pretty much alone. Truth be known, this is where I’m at in life itself. It gets harder and harder to bolster my own reserves, I must rely on my pig-headed nature to continue. (Photo: Spectator in my toilet - King Kong Guesthouse, Don Det, Laos)

Sadness has consumed me the last couple of days, the last time I stood in Bangkok Central Station was with Cai. With that realization I once again feel the depth of my loss, and struggle to deal with it.