RAWBangkok

The infamous Bridge over River Kwai

Planning a getaway

Well, the weekend of 5, 6, 7 December was a 3-day holiday because the 5th is the King’s birthday.  My usual Saturday-Sunday client decided to take advantage of the long weekend to get out of town, which freed me up to do likewise.   My first thought was to go to Chiang Mai, but there simply weren’t any seats left on the trains, and the planes weren’t flying yet following the takeover of the airport by the PAD, who were protesting against the government.

So I decided to go to Kanchanaburi Province, just 2 hours away by bus from Bangkok, but a place that I’d never visited before. In 2005 I planned to go there, but had missed the trip when my mother died and I flew back to the US.

I checked with My Favorite Go Go Dancer (mfggd) to see if she was interested in traveling with me and got an enthusiastic “YES! YES! YES!” from her.

An aside on My Favorite Go Go Dancer

She moved this week from dancing at Nana Plaza, where she’s been since she started working in go go bars two years ago, to a new location; Bacarra at Soi Cowboy. Her first night of work was Tuesday.

On Tuesday I dropped in to say hello, buy her a drink, and make arrangements for our trip. She ended up getting an interesting start to her Bacarra career because I ended up barfining her and taking her home on Wednesday night, and then subsequently paid her bar for Thurs, Fri, Sat & Sunday as well.

I presume 5 barfines in your first six days is considered good work (and it may have been SIX barfines… I have no idea whether a punter took her out on her first night of work).

When I dropped in on Wednesday night, she looked much as she had for the 14 months that I have known her, but on Thursday night it was like seeing an entirely new girl. The mamasan had told her to get curls put in her hair, and she changed her makeup.

I didn’t like the look — it’s the look of a Nipponette (a Japanese specialist). But when I paid her bar and she went to change, she came back looking pretty good. She had pulled all her hair into a pony tail behind her right ear, which was a good effect with all the teasing it had in it. She had a long sleeve but tight-fitting shirt on with some skin-tight jeans. Not her usual look, and overall the effect was to make her look 19 years old rather than her true age of 30 years.

We snapped a few photos of her, and I looked at them tonight just before I started writing this blog. She did, indeed, look great with the hair pulled to the side and the youthful clothes.

One of the things I like about mfggd is that she doesn’t look like a bar girl when she’s away from the bar.  She dresses modestly, wears minimal makeup, and avoids eye contact with strangers.  She is demure in the best way of Thai women.  This means that I can go places with her, and — aside from the obvious difference in our ages — I don’t particularly look like a customer out with a hooker.  She manages to look more like my girlfriend or wife.

I think the reason is that she didn’t start working as a go go dancer till the ripe old age of 27; before that she spent years working in a factory.  At heart, she’s more of a ‘good girl’ than a bar girl.

She’s very pragmatic about what she’s doing.  She is earning money and building a house or two back in her home province for herself and her family.  She told me that she figures it’ll take about two more years of working on her back to finish the job, then she’ll “retire” from the chrome pole and get back to a regular life, with a house and a nest-egg of cash.

It’s good to have goals.

Thursday was the 4th — payday — so she had to go to Nana Plaza to pick up her pay and then (after getting the cash) telling the mamasan that she had decided to move to Soi Cowboy. Afterward she went home to pack her bag and then came back to my place around 2 a.m. so that we could both get up early and head to the bus station.

Off to Kanchanaburi

The plan was go get up around 4:30 and try to hit the bus station around 6 a.m. We needed to go to the Southern Bus Terminal (called Sai Tai Mai in Thai) which is rather inconveniently located on the far side of the river, far from the BTS system.

I was asleep when mfggd got back to my house after midnight Thursday night. I had fallen asleep with my fingers on the keyboard of my computer. She had the spare key to my room, so she let herself in, got me tucked into bed properly then cuddled up next to me to sleep.

We ended getting out of bed at 6 a.m. Friday morning, and arrived at the bus station a bit before eight o’clock, only two hours behind the ambitious plan we had made the night before. The bus was speedy, and we got off the coach in Kanchanaburi at ten o’clock in the morning almost exactly. I was surprised because I had read on the internet that it was a trip of about three hours but we made it in almost exactly 120 minutes door to door.  We were nearly back on schedule.

Rat-Bastard taxi drivers are everywhere

I had looked on the internet and booked a hotel on Thursday night. I had decided, after a fair bit of checking, to reserve a room in one of the better hotels, the Felix River Kwai. It’s a large resort hotel with 255 rooms, located on the banks of the Kwai River, and next to the well-known Bridge Over the River Kwai made famous by the Alec Guinness movie.

I had also checked the map and had a basic understanding of where the bus station and hotel were in relation to each other.

Generally, it is very difficult to get meter taxis outside of Bangkok, and it seemed the same at the Kanchanaburi bus station. We were approached by fast talking Sawng Teaow drivers who quoted 250 baht to take us to the hotel.

I only needed to go about 4 kilometers, and 250 baht gets me from one side of Bangkok to the other. I simply said ‘no’ to this offer and kept walking.

The guy was persistent, talking to mfggd instead of me. She wisely deferred the decision to me each time. After 20 or 30 seconds of badgering I opened my mobile phone and dialed the hotel. I asked the normal taxi fare to get to the hotel, and the receptionist said that 150 baht was normal.

I thanked her, hung up, and offered the guy 150 baht. He repeated his offer of 250 at which point I simply pushed past him and started out of the bus station area. He grabbed my arm and said “wait, wait, wait”. Then he smiled and said 160.  I was pissed off about him grabbing my arm, but he had come down by 90 baht so I didn’t know whether to knock him down or accept his price.

What the hell. I agreed to the 160 baht.

It still felt like a lot to pay for a ride in a pickup truck. The same distance in an air conditioned taxi in Bangkok probably would have set me back about 50 or 60 baht. But not to worry.

The Felix River Kwai Resort Hotel

In five minutes we were checking in at the Felix.

They have an interesting pricing system. The room price is 3,000 baht per night, but on the first night you pay 4,600 baht and get tickets for an all-you-can-eat outdoor buffet, followed by a “sound and light” show.

There seemed to be no negotiation on whether you wanted the show or not; it was simply presented as the way things worked.

The hotel was actually very nice, covering a lot of beautifully landscaped ground right on the riverbank.  Everyone I met in three days there spoke English, and the service was 4 or 5 star quality most of the time.

Mfggd was pleased. This was a big step up from the bed & toilet we’d had at Koh Samet two weeks ago.

Friday in Kanchanaburi

Having arrived at the hotel my plan was to check in early (I’d been assured by the hotel staff over the phone that this would be no problem) and get mfggd to lay down for a nap.   She’d gotten to bed around 2 a.m. or later and is not generally a morning person.  I’d awakened her at 6 a.m. so I was worried that she’d be exhausted all weekend if she didn’t get a bit of sleep.

Well, checking in early went smoothly, and we were in the room by 10:30 a.m.

But getting mfggd to sleep was a much more challenging task.  She simply didn’t want to fall asleep.

First she said she was hungry.  I called room service and ordered some food for her, which she ate happily when it arrived.
Then she was bored, so we turned on the TV.

She closed her eyes for a while, but was simply tossing and turning.  I finally decided to take matters in hand, as it were, and pulled her panties off.  I got my head between her thighs for a while — and it was a long while.  She was very slow to reach orgasm, but finally managed it.

I thought that would put her to sleep, but instead she started tugging at my willy and asking me to fuck her.

Well, if I have to.

Finally, around 2 in the afternoon we both drifted off into a fitful sleep.

She had told me earlier that she didn’t want to sleep until dinnertime; that she wanted to go for a bicycle ride and look for a local market.

I had set my alarm for 4 p.m., and when it went off we crawled out of bed, got dressed and went off to rent a pair of bicycles from the concierge.

This was one negative point about the Felix that I’d read in the reviews online.  In spite of being a 4 or 5 star hotel, they charge for everything… bike rental, tennis court time, etc.  The commenter on the internet thought that a place of this quality should include the amenities for free, and I’d say I agree with him.  I don’t really want to be nickeled and dimed for this little shit in a nice resort.

But, I paid 120 baht for 2 bikes for 1 hour.  We were off.

We pedaled around in a leisurely fashion.  For my part, I looked a bit silly being an oversized farang on a Thai style bicycle — a bit like a grown man trying out his kid’s new bike before putting it under the Christmas tree.

Bridge Over the River Kwai

We rode the short distance to the infamous Bridge Over the River Kwai.  We got off the bicycles and walked onto the bridge.

I felt no sense of awe, and I probably didn’t feel any of the other things one should feel when confronted with the history of this bridge.  I’ve seen the Alec Guinness movie several times and I can whistle the tune.  As a tragic story of individual triumph and failure I think it’s a great movie, but I didn’t really feel the history of the place based on the movie.

One strong effect from the movie was the image of the wood & bamboo bridge that was unique and recognizable.

But the black steel & wood construction that we walked on bore little resemblance to the tragic feat of engineering shown in the movie.  Had I not seen the movie I’d have felt nothing at all.  As it was, I felt mildly interested to see the site where the tragedy took place.

In a theme that was repeated on Saturday when I visited the “Death Railway” I wondered what the men would have thought — those men who suffered or died in the building of the railway and the bridge — if they could have known that all their suffering would be the basis of popular tourist destinations 60 years hence.

For that is precisely the attraction of the bridge and the railroad.  The suffering that was required for the building of it.

The Thais spend some time talking about that history, but they don’t really anything to make you feel it — at least not in my limited experience this past weekend.  No personalized stories, no memorial in photos or other methods to help you internalize the story.  Simply cold statistics.

Only a couple of them stayed with me: perhaps 16,000 western POWs died while pressed into service by the Japanese.  About fifteen times as many Asians died in the same time period.  Huge numbers of deaths.

And now it’s basically an amusement park ride.  And I rode it.  Something feels wrong here.

When it comes to reminders of the misery of the place, there is at least one visible reminder.  There is a beautifully landscaped and tended graveyard in the middle of the city of Kanchanaburi that is filled with the graves of western soldiers (though I was to learn later that no Americans are buried there, as their bodies were all repatriated to the US many years ago).

The graveyard had only flat headstones in precise rows, with beautiful colorful flowers growing between them.   The grass is an emerald green and it is surrounded by perfectly manicured hedges.  It has a striking look.

We first saw the graveyard from the back of the ‘taxi’ traveling from the bus station to the hotel.

Now, it’s important to be aware that cemeteries are not common in Thailand, where cremation is the norm.  I don’t believe mfggd had ever before seen one.

As we passed she shouted in excitement.  I confess that I was surprised at her interest in the cemetary, but she immediately asked me if we could come back for a visit later in the weekend.

Of course, I said.

“Do you know what it is?”  she asked, and before I could answer she exclaimed that it was a strawberry farm.

Well, it sounds stupid as I write it, but when she said it, I saw immediately that the low rows of orderly plants looked the part.  She’d never seen a graveyard and didn’t know what one looked like.

I gently explained what we were looking at, and she was mildly embarrassed, but not overly so.  We never did go back for the visit to the graveyard, but we passed it three more times on Saturday and Sunday, and each time I leaned over and whispered one word — “strawberries” — in her ear and we both had a good laugh.

I don’t mean to be irreverent, and I hope that the men interred there wouldn’t take offense if they heard the levity.  But the idea of a graveyard being mistaken for a strawberry farm was funny.

Meanwhile, back at the Bridge late on Friday afternoon our bicycles were parked and it was approaching 5 p.m.  Someone was giving instructions in Thai saying that we needed to get off the bridge before the stroke of five.

I understood that, but mfggd told me that it was important to get off the track because a train was going to cross the bridge, then we could go back on the bridge.  We scurried to the far side of the river opposite our hotel, planning to walk back across after the train crossed and the bridge was re-opened.

Once we were on the other side, however, I got a bad feeling.  It looked like the bridge was being shut down for the night. I asked mfggd if she was sure of the situation.  She asked a couple quick questions of the security guard.

It turns out that the bridge was being closed at 5 p.m. in preparation for a special show, and that it wouldn’t re-open until the next morning.  If we stayed where we were we would need to swim, take a boat or face a long taxi ride back to our hotel, which was really only 60 meters away across the river.

It was 4:59.

We darted through the gate as they were trying to close it, and quick walked back across the bridge with mfggd explaining to every security guard that we passed that — yes — we did want to go to the other side of the river.  That’s where our hotel was.  We were the only people on the bridge except for the dozen or so men who were busily setting up fireworks, lights and the electrical wiring to drive them during the evening show.

We finally made the far shore, where we hopped on our bikes and pedaled back to the hotel.

It was nearing 6 p.m., so we showered, changed and headed back where we’d just been.  There was an all-you-can-eat outdoor buffet on the bank of the river.  Following dinner we would have ringside seats for the light and sound show we’d seen them setting up.

Dinner and Show

The dinner was a good feed, with barbecued seafood, tons of good Thai food, fruit, salad and desserts.  Mfggd and I ate until we couldn’t move and it was all good.

As eight o’clock drew near, we were ushered out onto a floating pontoon on the river with a couple of hundred plastic chairs on it.

We were in a grand position to see the light and sound show.

I wasn’t clear whether there was a show every night or if this was a special one for the King’s birthday.  I never did ask, but I believe the answer is that it was a bit of both.

I think they do the show every day.  There are two reasons for this.  One reason is that on Saturday night around 8:30 or 9 p.m. we heard the fireworks going off.

But more significant was the fact that several resorts up river had large pontoons that were filled with their guests.  These pontoons were dragged to the bridge before the show, and back to the resort at the end of the show.

The pontoons were of permanent construction with signage.  Much too elaborate a job for just a night or two.

So I was settled in and expecting a mighty performance.  I’d seen light and sound shows in Sydney, and they can be massive spectacles with lasers, music, lights and fireworks on a grand scale.

Well, nothing like that happened at the Bridge Over River Kwai.  In fact, nothing much happened at all.  There were fireworks.  And there were lights.  There was even a narrated play, with Japanese soldiers rushing across the bridge, a train crossing while “bombs” exploded, and a small (model) airplane simulating bombing runs.

But the action was sporadic. For ten or fifteen minutes at a time we — the spectators — would sit in stupefying silence waiting for the next action.  The most movement during most of these stretches was the moon crawling across the sky.

After some time I realized what the problem was.  ON the far bank, where mfggd and I had almost been trapped this afternoon, there were a large number of seats set up for the spectators on the shore and there was a narrated play going on there.

We couldn’t really hear the narration, and we certainly couldn’t see the play. Since it was central to the action, and the light, sound and fireworks were mere adjuncts to the play, it was a bit like sitting through the long commercial breaks at an NFL game  and wondering why the players are all on the field and the spectators in the stands but nothing going on.

On my pontoon, many people started leaving.

Mfggd and I stayed to the bitter end, but at least we had the option of leaving since we were tethered to the shore.  I felt really bad for the hundreds of people on pontoons anchored in the middle of the river, who could only wait in misery, then face the difficult run back upstream to their resorts.  They were truly trapped.

When it was clear that the torture was truly over, mfggd and I, along with a hundred people or so who had been too timid to walk out on the “show” clambered back to the shore.

As we walked through the area where dinner had been served, the staff were busily dishing up all the un-consumed food for anyone that wanted to try to finish up the leftovers.  Mfggd and I both demurred, as we were stuffed.

An evening cocktail

We had two complimentary drink vouchers for the bar, and we decided that instead of returning directly to the room we’d see what the bar had to offer.  The answer was: not much.  The complimentary drinks were fruit juice which I gladly consumed, but there was no entertainment on offer and only a few other guests — almost exclusively couples who were seated in pairs and widely dispersed through the bar.

Just not much happening.

However, since noon mfggd had been saying to me that she wanted ice cream.  She said it again now, so I asked for the dessert menu.

Sure enough, they had four ice cream dishes listed.  We decided to share a banana split, and enjoyed relaxing with the wonderful mix of cold fruit, chocolate, nuts and whipped cream before limping back to the room and the bed.

By this time we were pretty wiped out, but I managed to find the energy to shag her one more time before falling into an unconscious sleep around 11 p.m.

(Check back for part 2 coming soon; rat bastard tour arrangers, Erawan National Park, Elephants, Bamboo Rafts, Waterfalls and Australians)