Journey of My Discontents

BANGKOK – Traveling in Thailand can be so simple that I can move down my list of complaints, away from infectious diseases and racist insurgencies, all the way down to overly efficient transportation systems.

After a half-century of catering to thousands of farang fortnightly, the Thais have made the journey from the island paradise of Koh Tao to the megapolis of Bangkok so painless that all I can do at the end of it is sit here and nit-pick. To wit:

* The ferry sales on the island are controlled by a price cartel, but a particularly effective one. I found a 100 baht discount, but only after going to more than two dozen shops. Set the prices or let them vary the price. This was just boring.

* On board the movie below deck was Mr. & Mrs. Smith. But the boat docked and they didn't let us see the final action sequence in the home supply store. Criminal.

* Made to wait at a concrete pavilion, some passengers discovered the long row of squat toilets came with a pet:a white macaw. He could make several noises, none of which seemed natural for a bird. My favorite sounded like this: THR-R-R-R-R-I-I-I-LL! This was diverting, but this macaw couldn't speak a word of English or Thai, at least none of the eight words that I know.

* For a journey back to the capital city, we had a remarkably complicated timetable. We arrived in the city of Chumphon with three free hours. The twenty passengers from the Ko Tao ferry remaining (some transfered to buses bound for Malaysia or beaches and islands on Thailand's east coast) were led into a holding facility. I'm being too harsh on the bus company. There were three rooms: one with tables, chairs and a menu of standard farang Thai-fare, another dimly lit with tatami mats and triangle pillows for a seista, and an alcove with computers. The hours passed quickly, at the very end I was in the bathroom. I found myself at the very end of the line for the bus, and consequently, facing backwards in a non-seat.

I lost the game of Russian Roulette that is a long-distance bus ride assignment.This gaffe I should/could/am want to blame on Mr. Zachary Raske, who didn't save the seat across the aisle for when I returned from the bathroom. My seat, to put it mildly, stank. It didn't recline, had no light, and featured a view of eight feet from the riders in the first row several inches from my face. I spent the first few hours of the trip in the stairwell of the bus reading, getting through a page or two before someone upstairs would need to elbow by and use the restroom.

* We got off the bus again, this time at a familiar place. Part cantina, part concentration-camp, I'm going to go out on a limb and call the standard rest stop of the Golden Ticket Travel Agency the worst restaurant in Thailand. The standard garnish here is flies - which come free. Everything else is at least three dollars. On the way to Ko Tao I ate pasty noodles with an unrecognizable vegetable or two, this time I try a bland take on Vietnamese pho, noodle soup. The best part about this restaurant is the theme: captivity. Patrons are required not to leave. Staff members and bus drivers participate by yelling at any foreigner who tries to take a walk or heaven forbid, make a run for the 7-Eleven down the street. As a souvenir, I buy a five dollar bag of Sour Cream and Onion Chips and hope for no return visits.

* The journey reached a sudden end just before four in the morning. "Last stop! Last stop!" I heard. Despite facing backward and eating a half-pound of fatty chips, I fell asleep on Thailand's four-lane highway. We arrived two hours early, and we ejected onto the chilly streets of Bangkok in flip-flops and pair of board shorts with a slight rank of mildew from the evening prior. The bus left patrons in the middle of an anonymous street, where the only English spoken appeared to be from taxi sharks, offering to take tired souls to the backpacker nexus of Koh San road for $10.

I walked here, on the strip, in under ten minutes. I'm too familiar with this stretch of the capital to be fooled by these tricks. But the only reason I'm able to avoid them is that I love this country so much that I keep returning and having wonderful experiences, even if the bathroom parrot has yet to master Esperanto.