| gonetraveling.com "I am a part of all that I have met. Yet, all experience is an arch where through gleams that untraveled world where margin fades, forever and forever when I move." |
| bangkok |
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| We landed in Bangkok, Thailand on November 13, 2002. With only a twelve-hour stay since we were departing on the train to Northern Thailand early the next morning, we decided to reserve a hotel close to the train station. Our guide book said "Chinatown's plushest hotel". If you consider the plushest hotel a Chinese brothel, then we were there. Of course, just walking into the lobby you wouldn't be able to tell that it was a brothel. After an attempt to stoll around a traffic-congested block, not to mention that it was raining and the sidewalks were overcrowded with street-vendors hawking their second-hand wares, we were overwhelmed with the chaos of it all and decided a beer at our hotel bar was just what we needed. This is when we discovered our hotel was a playground for single (or not) Thai, Chinese (heck, all) men. In our bar, beautifully dressed women belted out tunes to an uninspired crowed over a tinny karaoke machine (we were smiling). When their two or three songs were finished, they would walk coyly to a lone table and wait for their suitor to arrive. I didn't get it at first, but Fletch spied a woman who seemed to be in charge of the charade (we guessed she was the madame) and soon our assumptions started. It wasn't until I asked our waitress why the only people singing karaoke were the Thai women. Her response of wide-eyes and a polite bout of laughter told us the reason. Not only did we discover we were staying in a brothel, the hotel was dirty, smelled of unfamilar and unpleasant smells and was so loud that we wondered if we would sleep at all. We did, but couldn't wait to wake up to have the nightmare be over. We woke to a breatkfast of eggs swimming in water, cold toast and watered-down Tang (their version of orange juice). Travelers be wary of Chinatown's White Orchid. Then again, we suppose it depends on your definition of plush and what you prefer. And, it makes for a great story. |
| 2002-2003 |
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| > thailand |
| While our first stop through Bangkok left us feeling as if we were the butt of a bad joke, our second stop in Bangkok allowed us to find its true treasures and actually enjoy ourselves. Not only did we find a hotel that wasn't a Chinese brothel, we found affordable luxury that was close to the backpacker's action called Kosan Road. A chaotic street crowded with music-thumping bars and side-street cafes, it is a budget traveler's haven where seasoned Thais hawk everything from knock-off designer casual wear to bootlegged CDs and popular computer programs starting at 100 baht ($2 USD). Bars made out of pop-top vans (Yes, we said vans. Entrepreneurs have converted their personal vans into fully stocked bars so its customers can order any drink they desire.) fill the streets at night blasting loud music creating a mobile party. Unlike our first forary into the Bangkok nightlife, we fell in love with the international exhuberance that pumps all night long on Kosan Road. The best Pad Thai for less than 50 cents, large beers for a buck, free concerts of bootlegged CDs, and people meeting people from all over the world; for some, we found this was all the culture they needed. And yes, there is a red light district which we happened to stumble upon that provides its own type of entertainment, which for the adventurous is worth a trip. It wasn't until after this second trip that we understood why people either love Bangkok or hate it. We are happy that we are able to leave loving Bangkok. |
| second time is a charm |
| > home |
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