Ayutthaya, March 28-30

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This was an elephant "farm" where 160 working elephants are housed, bathed, and fed. They have a particular affinity for these Corn-Pop tasting snacks that one may purchase. So for a mere 40cents you get to be chased by baby sugar-crazed pachyderms.

We rented a moto and zipped around town. Ayutthaya is famous because of the 30 or so wats dotted all over the city. These are some of the best-preserved "cathedrals" of the Siamese empire, dating from 1450. Most of them are sinking, have alreday been looted and serve no function now, but reconstructions allow you to see just how powerful and wealthy Siam was.

We serendipitously found a guesthouse that was not having luck attracting clients, so for 10 euros a night we stayed in a traditional, teak-wood, slanted-angle guest-house with a rare soft bed and a hand-made doorway that requires stepping up a stair and over a foot-high threshhold. We were also treated to daily interactions with the personable owner who had studied at Wright State University in Dayton, not 20 miles from Antioch, where I did University.

Later we ran into this monk who offered us an aster-flower drink (too sweet, Stef dumped it out later) and then when we knelt in front of him to receive his blessing me tied a string around our wrists, then proceeded to splash us in the face with frangipani-scented water. Which was rather welcome in the heat.

We ate the giant river shrimp famous in this area, and we had some of the best coffee in Thailand at a cafe/B&B run by a guy that Stef just happened to know from Bagkok. Of course, that allowed us royal treatment and a tour of the city in his air-con Nissan.

Floating Market

This is a market - now mainly for tourists - about 1.5 hours south of Bangkok. I had been looking for a hat to shield myself from the lethal sun, and finally bargained for one while sitting in our little paddle boat in the canals of this market.

Steamy Bangkok

Transfer station of the Sky Train, four blocks from Stef's house


The Floating Water Market, 1.5 hours south of BKK


And this is Part I of the One Pot One Pan cooking show put on by my sister and Aey, a talented activist.

Bangkok, Thailand. March 24-28

After 4 days in Bangkok I have managed to fall down the stairs of a famous Wat (twisting same foot injured skiing), crack my big toe on an immovable cement block in the sidewalk, and unwittingly eat durian, thinking it was cooked and therefore would not smell like rotting flesh.

The wats are small oasis of calm in this traffic-crazed city. We went to one on my first evening here, after Thai class. I sat in on the class just to experience it, and was actually totally comprehensible (though I remember none of the words) because the teachers use a total immersion/theater method, and they animatedly talked for an hour about diarrhea, constipation, and tapeworms. Afterwards Stef took me to a small spirit house – built to appease the spirits that had been haunting workers who were constructing an enormous hotel on that patch of Bangkok – and we lit incense, laid woven garlands of jasmine, and prayed with the Buddhists. Nearly all buildings have these little shrines, even private houses. Wats are much bigger, they are the cathedrals of Thailand, usually surrounded my plants and bells that you can bong to your heart's content, then you remove your shoes and sit inside on little mats.

The hazards on the sidewalks (can you call them sidewalks if they are actually sand pits and improvised cafes serving steamed cow knees and tapioca drinks?) are avoidable, nearly everyone simply takes taxis or taxi motorbikes, never walking anywhere. Which isn't unreasonable considering how hot it is and how cheap taxis are – one euro gets you 3 or 4km depending on traffic. But traffic is astounding. I have given up and walked on two occasions already because it was faster than waiting for lights to change and thousands of buses/trucks to move.

Durian, well. I am not sure why they say it tastes like heaven. But it certainly smells like hell. I had that goo on my molars for 20 minutes.

A surprising number of Thai towns have canals. Bangkok has a network, and for the equivalent of 10cents you can ride up and down them in low-slung boats. This morning I went to what is known as the Floating Market, in a town 1.5 hours south of Bangkok. We took a boat decked out with a motor improvised from a truck, arrived at the market, and switched to smaller boats. There, an ancient man dexterously paddled me and 4 others along canals teeming with boats selling mainly fruit, but also sticky rice treats wrapped in banana leaves, hats ( I bought a straw cowboy variety), candles, soup, etc.

I bought two fruits I've never seen before – mangosteen and a sort of hairy lychee – very tasty.

When we returned to Bangkok I learned that not only had there been a 10,000 strong protest against the current government yesterday, but there had also been one today. The city is so big I never saw anything.

Stef and I are leaving for Ayutiya tomorrow. It's described as one of the ancient capitals, so we're planning to bike around it, provided our knees aren't poking us in the armpits as we pedal, people are much smaller here.

Koh Phangan, Thailand. March 16-24

My cell phone has revolted in the heat and will take no more pictures. I can send the one I did manage to take of the bright green long-boats that serve as water taxis, with their green/red/yellow/pink flags flying on the stern, but the internet connection here is too slow to load photos.

So let it suffice to say that the beaches are pristine, the sand actually pieces of white coral worn to pebbles, the coconut palms bearing nuts with very thirst quenching juice, and the air so hot and humid it feels like it should rain. I sweat just walking up 100meters over the hill to the next “resort” which is actually a Thai Boxing camp. There are dozens of little nooks and valleys around the island, each hiding a series of teak bungalows, little pointy thatch-roofed houses on stilts, each with it's own hammock and terrace overlooking the Gulf, or the dense green trees. And it's chock full of tourists. Hundreds of us. Froam all over. I've met 6 Dutch (though one is actually Syrian I think), 1 woman from Kazakhstan, 1 Iranian who works in Pakistan, 5 English, 1 Canadian, 4 Aussies, and 2 Czech, who actually live here and have a 2 month-old baby and work at the resort. That's the oddest thing, there are so many babies around. It's heaven for the parents, Thais love babies more than any country I know of, even the men come over and start cooing, eventually grabbing the kid from the relinquishing parent and carry it around with great unfeigned joy. Parents can pass of their kids and go to the spa or beach without a care in the world.

When I lie on the beach I read a book by an Italian journalist who lived in Asia for 40 years working for Der Speigel. He saw the fall of Saigon, the takeover by the Khmer Rouge, and knew these countries as they were before real tourism set in. He rails against the commercial aspect of the resorts and speed boats, the hundreds of shops all selling the same crap that was actually made in China. He in fact blames China for being too industrious and the West for being to easily mimicked.

So as I lay there among the variably sunburned and oiled bodies of the English, Dutch and Germans around me, I understand that this is precisely the unfettered commercialism poor Tiziano cannot accept. And I see his point. It's not pleasing that every full moon there is a wild drunken fest for all the backpackers not but a Thai party-goer in sight. Thais work all the service jobs but it's westerners who own 90% of the resorts. Sometimes, if you sneak up quietly to the reception desk , you can see them talking dramatically amongst themselves, or SMSing, looking at MP3 players, then they suddenly snap to attention and smile, “yeahs, may I hep yooo Miss Jessica?.” But they are really quite kind, very patient, and such a welcome change from people I've interacted with in Morocco, for instance. I've learned to bow my head and say “Kaap khun ka” - thank you.

Lastly, there are not many mosquitoes here, which is strange since it has been raining (cool breezes!) and there is a murky river that runs through this resort. Once on the veranda I was set upon by one damned blood-thirsty insect at I high-tailed it for the bug-free comfort of my air-conditioned room. Blast the wasted energy, I'm not getting Dengue again.

Soon I'm off to eat dinner with a Dutch acquaintance. He fasted 13 days poor devil, still can't bear to eat anything but salad and papaya still, stomach too sensitive. I'm already back to eating all fruits and yogurt, even had sweet potato yesterday. Tonight I want lime squid and Pad Thai.