Bangkok Not-So-Dangerous and "Mr. John"

This morning I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know very much about Bangkok, and I found the information difficult to winnow out of the resources available. The internet here is dodgy, so doing the internet research was difficult, and I didn't know anyone yet.

I wound up spending the entire morning digging for information, and didn't leave to explore until noon.

When I did get out into town, I hiked to the nearest river boat dock, just five minutes from my hotel.

Bangkok is a city with a nightmarish traffic problem that no-one really knows how to fix, and one of the only ways to cut through the traffic is used almost exclusively by the Thai people--the river and canal boats. On the main river these are huge water buses that can carry hundreds of people, and they ply a series of docks that work almost identically to metro stations, that are spread all along the river. There are express ferries, and the route maps at each station will tell you which ferries go to which stations.

I was trying to go to Wat Pho, home of the legendary reclining Buddha, so I looked at the station map and when an Orange flagged express ferry pulled up, I looked at the map and realized it should stop where I wanted, Stop N8.

So I climbed aboard, paid my 30 cents, and off we sped down the river. Bangkok from the water is a different city, still pretty and ugly mixed together, but certainly different from the view you get in the streets.

After we let stop N9, I climbed out to the back of the boat. I was confused because we appeared to be going to a different side of the river than I anticipated, but I knew there was a tiny 3baht cross-river ferry between the Temple of Dawn and Wat Pho, so I figured I'd catch that.

So I followed the other people off the boat, and suddenly found myself in a teeming throng of several thousand celebratory Thais. I'd just been in this exact same crowd in Madison Georgia a month ago, so I recognized it immediately--I was in a graduation! People were taking pictures everywhere, and laughing families were presenting black-robed graduates with flowers and stuffed animals. The school class must have been huge, because they were everywhere. The ceremony apparently hadn't been completed yet, because I was trapped in a sort of holding area where everyone was waiting. I eventually figured out I was on the grounds of the Royal Thai Naval Academy, and I was trapped in the graduate/family holding area. I spied the Temple of Dawn ferry dock (where I needed to go) just fifty meters away. I even took a picture, but of course I couldn't go that way because there was a roadblock and a guard.

So I would up walking perhaps 500 meters around the school, down a side street, and across to the Temple of Dawn before I could get through. Oh well, serves me right for not double checking the sign or asking someone as I was tumbled into the crowd.

I finally found my way out of the crazy mess and wandered through the Temple of Dawn (pictured above). I decided against climbing it though, as I would have needed both the entry fee and a pair of long pants, since I hadn't worn them today. Thai temples would have been the perfect time to have convertible shorts, since they require you to rent long clothes if you aren't wearing any, but I hadn't brought mine on this trip since I lost one of the zippers right before I left the states (sad day).

I finally reached Wat Pho and explored there for a while. Getting a picture of the reclining Buddha is a challenge. I intentionally included a tourist because otherwise you get no sense of scale.

He's huge. My mind was cast back to the statue of Zeus at Olympia, and I thought perhaps if these two had ever met, what a wrestling match they could have had.

Around the backside of him--I suppose so that you won't spend the whole walk contemplating his completely flat butt--there are a series of 50 copper pots, you donate a 20 baht bill to the station and they give you a little metal bowl, then you walk the line, dropping a 1/4 baht coin in each pot. It's supposed to bring good luck, but I think it's also a clever way to make donations a more appealing and active part of the visit, so I did my part to support the temple. I took a few pictures along the way, of course.

When I was done, I could see the storm clouds gathering on the horizon, and I realized I'd forgotten my umbrella. Again. So as I was leaving the Temple, I talked to a random fellow (who sat in the entry and checked my ticket as a pretense for looking important, but was really the front man for the tuk-tuk stand) and he told me I could reach my destination in a Tuk Tuk for 20 Baht.


Let me say this: every source I've read on Bangkok (Lonely Planet, Wikitravel, local tourist advisories and so on) all say the same thing: "Beware the 20 baht Tuk Tuk ride." Usually, it winds up being a Gem Scam, or something similar.

I didn't want that ride, so I told him a different destination (that I also wanted to go to) and that I thought 20 Baht was too cheap. He upped the price to 40, and said that they would throw in a trip to a Tourism place to let me try to buy a train ticket. I already knew the rough prices for the tickets I wanted, so I figured it couldn't hurt, if they gouged me on the price, I'd just refuse to buy.

The Tuk Tuk drivers want to take you to these places because they get a commission, or more often, they get a free gas coupon they can redeem later.

Since I know all these things, and I tend to think that knowledge of the scam before you enter it gives you an edge, I decided to try it. Worst case scenario, I was out 40 baht and somewhere else in the city than I wanted to be, and I'd hail a taxi and call it a lesson learned. The tuk tuks aren't known for abducting people, just trying to trick them out of their hard earned money.

So off we went to TAT. On the way there I chatted with my driver, and found out he was from Chang Mai, where I am going later in the week--"Chang Mai, number one city in Thailand!" and he asked me about where I was from. TAT which turned out to be a very well appointed showroom with smartly dressed young women at small desks, striking deals with tourists buying combination tickets to Phuket and other places.

I sat down and explained that I just wanted a train ticket, and I needed to know the price, and the nice young woman shook her head "oh, I'm sorry, we only do combinations, so we cannot buy your ticket that you want. You need to go to the train station."

I thanked her, and she asked if I could do anything else to help. I said yes, and I told her I was going to take the canal taxi to get to the train station, and could she tell me what stop to exit on? She said yes, but she didn't know the name of the stop, so instead she wrote me out a card to show to the fare man on the boat. While she was writing out the address, I noticed the tasteful cross suspended on a chain just at the intersection of her blouses collar--a curious choice in a predominantly Buddhist country.

I went back outside. I half expected the Tuk Tuk to be gone, as I knew that some of them had a habit of abandoning people once they'd picked up their gas coupon or payment. But there was my guy, smiling on the sidewalk.

Off we went, but before we left, he turned and asked me to do him a favour. "Here it comes" I thought, but I asked anyway, because I wanted to see how things would go down.

He told me he wanted to take me to a high fashion place. "High fashion?" I said, adding a little extra incredulity into my voice. "I don't need any clothes!" He shook his head. "You don't have to buy anything, just go look, five, ten minutes, no buy, no problem!"

"Why?" I said. I knew the real answer but I was curious to hear what he would say. And then, he surprised me. He took out his wallet, and I almost rolled my eyes. I was expecting some made up sob-story about his eight kids and how I'd be helping him out with paying back a debt he owed his cousin or some silliness.

Instead, I looked down at a plain white laminated card with some Thai written on it, and below that, in English "Free Gasoline."

"If you go" he said. "I get free gas. You understand?"

I made a face. "But I won't buy anything. Will you still get your card?"

"Yeah yeah, they still give me the card if I bring you. Just go inside five, ten minutes."

"Hmm. But you get free gas? What do I get? If you get free gas, do I get a free ride?"

He wavered for a moment, but I was sure the gas was worth way more than the measly 40 baht I'd been promised as my fare. "Yeah, ok, yes, you get free ride. No problem."

"Ok" I said. "You got a deal."

So off we went to a place called James Fashion. It was a sharp shop, with a nice, modern layout and way too many salespeople. A polite, vaguely middle eastern man named Eddy approached me and asked me what I was looking for. I hated to feel like I was wasting his time, so I started asking questions, but told him I was just looking for prices right now. I could tell his countenance change and he seemed positive that there was no sale here. He was right, of course, but he was still polite and he answered my questions. It turned out I could get a nicely custom tailored three piece suit with a matching tie for about 110 bucks, which is actually a great deal. If I weren't quite so tight on space and weight, I would have seriously considered it, though of course not from this place.

Once we'd established that I wasn't buying, I made my way back to the door, having written down his name so that in case I came back, I would ask for the same guy. Outside my Tuk Tuk guy was still waiting (more surprise on my part).

As we headed back to the Tuk Tuk I gestured to him "You get the card?" "Yeah yeah, boss. It's good!"

Before heading to Golden Mountain, he begged me to hit a second place with the same basic game plan, but I shot him down. I knew if I went along with a second time I'd be stuck working over every scam joint in the city with this guy, so I told him I was hungry and I was going to go eat by Golden Mount, so if he's just drop me off I could relax and we'd be square.

He was good to his word, and the whole ride was completely free of charge. I shook his hand before departing and we told each other thanks. All in all, it worked out well.

I took a canal ferry down towards the heart of Bangkok. The canal ferries are one of the only ways to make these trips cheaply and quickly, since the buses are brutally slow and crowded and the taxis generally expensive. I took my little card and showed it to the fare taker, but since the sky opened up and it began to pour on us, I was forgotten in the confusion and overshot my destination by one stop.

The canal system is staffed by the most fearless bunch of bastards I've ever had the pleasure to meet. They climb around on the outside of the boat to collect everyone's fares, and give out a paper ticket to each and every rider. They do this in a blue jacket and a helmet, ducking to keep from getting scraped off the boat at high speeds by the lower bridges.

They have an amazing and remarkable job, the kind I would probably love for the first six months or a year that I did it, before it got boring and the terrible pay starting to grind on me.

When I finally clambered off at the correct stop, it was still pouring pretty hard. I came around the corner of the ferry stop and found myself at a tiny, ramshackle convenience store, pressed up against the bridge overpass and cobbled together from plywood, sheet metal, and whatever other people were throwing away.

I walked past it, headed for the road, intending to brave the rain, but I happened to spy a white man in his fifties, sitting under some shelter along side the place, and drinking a beer. It's hard to tell with white people here where they are from, and probably 70% of the caucasians I've overheard here are speaking French or German, but this guy had an English copy of Burroughs' Naked Lunch sitting on the table, so I could take a fair stab at him being conversational in English.

I stopped under the shelter, looked at his beer, and at the rain, and said "that sounds like a good idea!" He laughed, and tossed his head back towards the shack's open window. "Get a Leo, they're not bad and they're on sale!" His voice was an expat's brogue, which turned out to be Australian at its core, but he'd been living in Bangkok for the past thirty years.

He refrained from telling me his name referring to himself merely as "Mr. John" when he'd refer to himself, instead we traded stories and talked shop. He had the benefit (or punishment) of a full classical education, and threw around quotes from his old Latin teacher, facts about airplanes, and commentary and criticism on the Thai culture with equal measures of ease and fervour. He claimed to be writing for the Bangkok post, and to have a history of working PR and writing throughout the last three decades. He was fascinating, and we went through a remarkable amount of beer over the next four hours, me always with one eye on the rain, which remained steady for most of that time, with occasional bouts of torrential downpour.

Sometime after nightfall, he asked me where I was going and I told him I needed to head to the train station and buy a ticket for tomorrow. My plan was to catch the Skytrain and then the metro to the train station, but he waved his hand and said "we'll take a taxi!" and once the rain had slacked off enough, off we went together.

I was mildly buzzed but not so much not to still have some judgement, and this didn't seem like a particularly bad deal--taxis were a hassle to negotiate alone, but a native speaker could make things a lot simpler.

He played guide, since he was fluent in Thai, this meant negotiating with our cab driver, and playing translator and guide at the train station (where I was unable to get the ticket I wanted, and settled for an overnight ticket for the next day for less than $12 instead), and when I mentioned I was starving he pointed out a great "haianese" (some part of China, I think?) place across from the train station where he negotiated food for me, and additional beer (mainly for him, as I was drawing my lines up at this point). In total I was out of pocket 50 for the cab ride (which was almost what I would have payed for public transit anyway) and 170 for the dinner and the beer together, a total ofjust $7 US.

As we finished the meal, our talk turned to the differences in opinion we have about travel (and his belief that I was wasting my money because of my hectic schedule and firm plans for my trip), and I think he perhaps felt he overspoke by being so critical of my plans. I tried to explain some of my motivations and the logic, even while I told him that I didn't plan to continue traveling in this breakneck manner in the future. Still, I generally don't mind disagreements, and I think maybe he felt uncomfortable once he realized how sharply he'd criticized my plan, and that I was not offended but also wasn't planning to change any of my plans or throw myself upon his whims as to my itinerary.

So I was not really surprised when I came back from the bathroom after we'd settled our tab and he had disappeared into the Bangkok night. I had a feeling I knew where I could find him the next day if I wanted to, under the same bridge the following afternoon, and in fact I did cross paths with him there by necessity, the next day, but we spoke as strangers speak in front of a friend of his who hadn't been present the day before, and no harm was done to anyone's self image as a result.

Mr. John and I parted ways amicably, and I don't know if he remembers that he gave me his e-mail address sometime before we disagreed so pleasantly. Part of me is tempted to write him if I'm ever back in Bangkok for enough time, to take him up on his offer midway through the night that he and the wife would take me out for dinner sometime, but another part thinks he might be discomfited, and I'd rather not put him ill at ease.

I suppose it all depends on when I next spend an extended time in Bangkok, perhaps in five years I'll have the chance to look him up, and all will turn out for the good.