Despite the rather full-on day I had yesterday, I was determined not to miss my planned excursion today. Even so, when the alarm woke me at 6:45am, it took some effort to drag myself out of bed.
Still, it’s amazing what an ice-cold shower and a decent breakfast will do, even without the coffee (no coffee, tea, coke or red wine for 10 days said the dentist) and by 8:30 I was on my way to the Chatuchak markets.
Chatuchak is the largest open-air market in the world, comprising some 5,000 stalls covering a 35-acre area; the size of a few city blocks or a good size stadium. My Dad had advised me to get there early, in order to beat the worst of the heat and the crowds which inevitably flock there and by 9am I was strolling through the gates.
Like many features of developed and westernized Asian cities, the Chatuchak markets are a curious (and sometimes ironic) mix of the ancient and the modern; Old men and women carrying large packages on poles or bicycles are tooted aside by young men in Toyota pickup trucks, loaded with brand-covered boxes and crates.
Traditional Thai folk music, drifts and mixes weirdly with strains from Oasis Wonderwall and Loretta Lynn’s Coal Miner’s Daughter. The occasional pungent smell of plastic packaging (filled with insecticide) quickly gives way to burning Sandalwood incense or freshly cooked food.
While the market is technically “open air”, much of it is covered in a corrugated iron framework and many of the permanent stalls have roller-door security. This creates a huge maze of little alleyways and it’s easy to get a little disoriented. But moments after stepping out onto one of the two main roads that run the length of the market and you quickly re-acquire your bearings.
In terms of layout, the market is divided into a number of rough sections, each offering a particular range or type of goods. There are separate areas for household goods, arts and crafts, clothing (new and used), curios, souvenirs and so forth. But in the best traditions of markets everywhere, the lines are nicely blurred to a degree that it’s sometimes several minutes before you realise you have wandered into a new area.
The range and variety of goods on sale was not huge, and many stalls sold pretty much identical stuff. Still, there were a few exceptions and on the whole, it was enough to remain interesting for awhile. Quite a few of the stallholders were sullen and didn’t seem to want to bargain much, perhaps because of the uncertain political situation, but more likely because of the heat, which reached around 35 degrees Celsius by midday.
Just before noon, I passed a large stall offering foot massages. My aching feet took control of my brain and marched me straight to the nearest comfortable recliner under a cooling fan, where an attractive and smiling masseuse washed and then massaged my feet and calves for a glorious 30 minutes. I emerged in a blissful state, feeling like I was walking on air.
After stopping at a drinks stall to purchase an ice-cold coconut juice, I felt invigorated enough to continue the circuit, but 20 minutes later I caught a whiff of something delicious, drifting from a nearby covered walkway and my stomach directed my now-happy feet in the appropriate direction. I soon located the source; a wonderful little restaurant of hardwood tables and comfortable leather-backed chairs, set amid sprays of ferns and fresh flowers, with the mingled smells of Jasmine tea, incense and cooking.
A chilled hand towel and cold Chang beer arrived minutes after I settled into a corner table and 15 minutes later I was enjoying freshly quick-fried prawns with sticky coconut rice with fresh greens and slivers of mango, mixed with a much more reasonable level of garlic and chilli. What a find!
The Thai love of spicy food is of course well known, but less well known is their almost equal love of anything sweet. A number of their traditional desert dishes and cakes (which are often light and clear the palate very well) are delicious and well worth sampling. I particularly liked the a green cream-filled sponge cake, known locally as “Pandam”.
With the body fully refueled, I reluctantly emerged back into the now scorching heat. 15 minutes later, I decided I’d seen enough and made my way back to the hotel and a quiet night in…
While writing this blog entry in the wee hours, I picked up the news of a second grenade attack – this time targeting the house of former Thai Prime Minister Banharn Silpa-archa and injuring 11 people (including 3 policemen) in the process. Assailants who were on a motorcycle missed Bahran’s residence, but injured the three police officers on guard as well as eight other people, one of whom is in critical condition.
Not such a restful night followed…
Monday dawned with a dreamy blue sky that promised another hot day. having no plans, I had a late, leisurely breakfast and then surfed the web looking for something to do. I settled on visiting the Temple of the Golden Buddha, the largest gold statue in the world.
Taking the MRT to Hua Lamphong, I walked out into the full heat of the day and after wandering around a little, eventually bumped into a couple of German tourists; they needed to know the way to the MRT and I needed to know the way to the temple of Wat Traimit – a perfect swap. 5 minutes later, I was standing at the gates.
So that’s what 5 tonnes of gold looks like…pretty impressive.
On my way back to Huai Kwang, I noticed that the police were now sporting handcuffs and side arms…
Back to the hotel around 4:30 for a shower and a lite bite, before heading out into Huai Kwang for the evening. Found a great little outdoor bar with a duet of guitarists, singing underneath a huge palm tree, with tea-light lamps hanging from it’s fronds, all under a balmy moonlit sky…I knew I was stopping for the night and it was 4am by the time I stumbled back into the hotel.
The following afternoon as I headed out to the airport, we passed a platoon of troops setting up roadblocks / checkpoints.
All were dressed in what looked like full battle kit, though arms were not overly evident. At the airport, most of the airport concourse entrances had been sealed off and roving patrols of both police and army personnel had been increased.
As my plane took off, I pondered the slightly surreal experience of what I’d seen in the last few days; It’s a bit weird, watching people trying to get on with the day-to-day business of living, when a potential disaster looms so prominently overhead.
Here’s hoping they find a way to stop the trouble brewing…
Update: The day after I flew out, the red-shirts clashed with troops and two days later protesters forced their way onto the grounds of a Bangkok hospital. The situation remains tense…
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