Back to Bangkok... (Rated PG13)

Bangkok, Thailand

August 15, 2007
N 13°43.165
E 100°31.552

Arriving in Bangkok for our second time in a fortnight we convinced ourselves that it would be easier to take the bus, again, even though or last experience left us both frustrated. The journey from the airport was pretty much the same, except this time we jumped off the bus as soon as we hit gridlock and boarded the overhead train the last 4 KMs to our hotel… at least that’s what we thought.

The oppressive Bangkok weather, nice and humid from the monsoon rains earlier in the day, had us drenched in sweat in a matter of minutes. We busted out for our last few nights in Bangkok and booked a stay at the Hilton. You would expect the Bangkok Hilton to be a large skyscraper and fairly easy to find, right? Wrong! Even though we had the address and the location for the Hilton on two maps, we quickly found ourselves to be running around like rats in a maze.

We walked in circles, up one side of the street and down the other, exhausted and searching, with no luck. Finally we stopped to ask a young traffic cop who pointed at a large white building… “Yes, Hilton, there Hilton.” That makes sense and off we went.

After another 20 minutes of stumbling through alleys, attempting to find an entrance to the large white building, we walked into the gold laden lobby of another hotel and asked for directions. I immediately knew we were not at the Hilton, but Marc asked the guy at the desk is this Hilton? “Yes, yes, Hilton”, was the response. I tried the same question with a lady at the reception desk, similar response…”Yes, this hotel.” Marc was now getting frustrated. Raising his voice he explained, “Yes, I know this is a hotel. Is this Hilton Hotel?” I was glad he paraphrased and didn’t say “Yes, I know this is a f’n hotel, but is this the f’n Hilton?”

Next he grabbed the concierge’s pen out of his hand and asked for a piece of paper. Acting like an uncouth American he quickly wrote word HILTON HOTEL and handed it to the bellboy. It appeared they finally understood, “Ahhhh, yes, yes, Hilton,” and pointed us across the street to a big blue building.

So off we went… smiling at the same Thai families that we now walked by four times, finishing their dinner at their plastic tables and chairs. Finally we found the big blue building. Shit… that place says Raffles International Hotel, but maybe it changed hands recently. We walked through the lobby and saw where “Hilton” had been scraped off the placards. Whew, this must be it; it’s the exact location on the map, maybe it’s now a Raffles.

When we approached the reception desk and asked if we were at the Hilton. The friendly woman at the desk gave us a wry smile and explained the Hilton move from the location 3 years ago. Oh great, we thought, now where is the g’damn Hilton. We pulled out our map from the new Bangkok International Airport and she told us, “No, bad map, bad map, old map”. Let me get this straight… Bangkok has a brand new international airport, but they distribute old, crappy, outdated, maps? Of course they do… why ask, why?

It was now around 4:20 PM, we landed at 1:05 PM, and we had to jump in a taxi to go across town in the middle of rush hour traffic. We were both very frustrated at this point, and to make it worse, Marc decided to remind me how we saved 200 Baht (or 6 dollars) by taking the bus, train, etc.; rather than a cab from the airport.

It took us another excruciating 40 minutes to travel the 10 KM, or 6.2 miles, across the city to our hotel. Both of us were now thoroughly drenched in sweat, hot, tired and very irritable. However, everything changed when we walked into the elegant, high ceiling, lobby of the Hilton. I whipped out my Hilton Honors Gold Member Card and we were immediately whisked away to the 31st floor for to a special check-in area, offered complimentary beverages and snacks, while they checked us into our room.

We tossed our gear in our room, showered and returned to the 31st floor to enjoy a free happy hour, sunset and the city lights. After a few glasses of wine (for me) and several glasses of scotch (for Marc), we decided Bangkok wasn’t so bad if this is where we stayed every time we visit!

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After a month of Thai food, we were ready for a change in cuisine. After Happy Hour ended we set out to find a sushi restaurant in the middle of the city. We enjoyed some fresh tuna, yellow jack, and a few other varieties of fish we can’t get at home. Good, but still not better than the sushi from North Beach Sushi, one of our favorites in San Francisco.

As we wandered down the crowded streets, lined by young Thai women, searching for our sushi restaurant we received several offers for dance shows. After dinner we figured we would catch a show; a compare and contrast between our visit in 2001 vs. 2007. After brief negotiations regarding price, quality of show, and number of drinks, between Marc and a shady looking Thai man, we were swiftly led through several back alleys and a few main streets before climbing a narrow staircase into a dark dance hall with pounding music.

The women on stage were dancing in their bikinis; except for one. She had her bikini bottom removed from one leg and tied to her thigh on the other leg. She was “smoking” a cigarette out of her woo-hoo. Yes, her woo-hoo. Hmmm, does this type of smoking cause cancer?

We followed the shady character to a vacant table where three young ladies immediately started talking to us as in pidgin English as we watched their friends on stage do their thing. Being “fresh meat” in the club the women began to multiply around us, all looking for “tips.” Marc explained to the ladies (that now multiplied to 8) about the tips they would NOT receive. "No more tips, no more tips!" and everyone quickly disappeared into the darkness, with the exception of the two ladies that got to us first. The ladies that remained massaged our arms and legs and made small talk. We explained we were on our honeymoon and staying at a cheap hotel on Sukumvit… lies, all lies. Even though we might act like newlyweds at times.

The show continued on the stage with ladies blowing out birthday candles, blowing horns, shooting ping pong balls, bananas, and pulling flowers out… this was called pussy flowers. The ladies varied in shape and body type. There were only two women I would consider hot, while most looked like they just delivered a baby, rippled belly, stretch marks and all.

Nostalgically, Marc commented about the Bangkok of old, where the grand finale was a young lady with a blow-gun accurately hitting balloons on the ceiling with darts. Oh well, I guess you can’t have your birthday cake and eat it too.

After finishing our beers we headed out… we had seen enough and decided to navigate our way out of the labyrinth of alleyways and back to our hotel. I think we laughed the whole way home.