Elvis'n'Eric'n'Frank

Yesterday, we went to karaoke at Big Echo. Fatt (husband - he doesn't like being called 'hubby' as it sounds too American, so we've agreed on Fatt) and I can't sing for toffee but we couldn't resist going with my Japanese classmates. After all, these are the experts and we weren't disappointed. They had obviously practised and were pretty much note perfect. They knew all the etiquette and proprieties of having a karaoke room. And most important of all, they knew how to work the damn machine.

Fatt chose all the low key numbers which I couldn't sing. Well I can't sing anyhow but I definitely couldn't sing 'Can't help falling in love with you' or 'Wonderful Tonight'. Then I had to sing Abba so I gargled 'take a chance take a chance take a chance take a chance'. And we finished up with 'My Way' which to be 'frank' was really not that bad, except I kept giggling because surely I wasn't that drunk to sing 'My Way' in a karaoke bar? My classmates were most bemused at how unseriously I was taking this. Fatt thought I was giggling at him and got a monk on.

Well, we managed to stop just short of 'I will Survive'. We must be thankful for some things.

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On a different note, I also went to the hospital for a quick jab yesterday. I find it quite ironic that the hospital I frequent has a Mickey Dees and an ice cream parlour on the mezzanine level. But hey, it's not the NHS you know, you have to pay and the hospital makes a profit, so why not encourage as much unhealthy eating as possible?

To their credit, these hospitals are super models of corporate efficiency. Everybody speaks English. There is plenty of nice seating - not the horrid plastic NHS 70's style, but real seats. There are newspapers and pamphlets and you can always phone up Au Bon Pain downstairs for a takeaway meal while you wait. You register with the minimalist of info, sign a disclaimer absolving the hospital from any nasty side effects, have your temperature, weight and blood pressure taken and then see the doc.

Seeing the doc lasts for about 10 seconds. Here's a conversation that Fatt had with his doc:

"So what's the problem?"
"I think I have a stye on my eye."
"Oh yes, I think you're right. Take all this medication. The nurse will show you how to pay."

Simple! They bombard you with as much medication as they can offload (e.g. do you really need antibiotics for a stye?), you pay and leave. And it's pretty much cheap as chips! I mean, really, if the NHS was run like this there would never be any waiting lists.

Kathoey Cabaret

Over the past few days, Dad and I have travelled around and seen many many things. We've hit Ayutthaya, Chiang Mai, snake farms, elephant camps, orchid farms, butterfly parks, hotels with amazing views, markets, Nailert shrine, khlong boat bus trips...

But the one thing dad enjoyed the most must have been the kathoey (ladyboy) cabaret. I'd already been with hubby and just knew dad had to see it. I therefore personally secured the best seats Mambo cabaret had to offer: front row, middle. Prime victims should there be any audience 'interaction' initiated by a ladyboy.

OK, it's not that I have any penchant for putting pictures of scantily-clad pretty girls on my blog, but this has to be an exception!



It's all good family fun - a mixture of Japanese, Chinese & Western pop sungs lip synched to perfection, energetic dance routines and raunchy costumes. At the beginning, you just sit there, mouth agape, not believing that the beautiful women in daring dresses are/were men. You then start looking for the tiny signs which might give them away: skin bit too tight around the bust area? face caked with a bit too much foundation? perhaps those shoulders are a little too broad? And surely with bikini pants like those, they must have had the snip already right? In the end you just enjoy the show. Sometimes you may even get bored - until you kick yourself with the reminder again that the Shania Twain lip syncher was originally a bloke.



With my dad's zoom lens and shock of white hair, the performers were more than obliging in giving him a special pose for the camera (unfortunately I don't have his pics!). Dad would give his own opinions: that one's got dimples, that one's sooo pretty, that one's not pretty at all. But never did he say: that one looks like a bloke.

(Incidentally, the one with the dimples who looks like a Japanese pop songstress, danced a bit too energetically for her bikini top and more was revealed than should be. And as for your question: no I don't have a picture. But you'll get the idea below. As for your second question: I can vouch that they certainly looked real enough.)



At the end, you can have your picture taken with and pay a compliment to your favourite ladyboy. They've hit the feminine mannerisms, make-up and boobs right on the nail, but one thing will always give them away: the voice!

Assumptions!

Even though I am mistaken for Thai wherever I go, it is probably due to the large number of ethnic Chinese in Bangkok. I'm pretty sure that I'm not taken for your average Thai bar girl from Isaan - at least not by the Thais.

Farangs though are another matter. We were getting supplies from Villa Supermarket. As mentioned, my dad doesn't really look Chinese due to his Arabic nose. His skin is also pretty dark which emphasises further his shock of white hair. In other words, we don't really look alike. An old farang git saw us and said to my dad 'How are you?' with a smirk and an arched eyebrow. And I realised that he probably thought what we all think when we see a senior foreign bloke with a young (err, relatively speaking for me) Thai girl.

I was a little shocked by it all. On reflection of course I wish I'd punched the old farang's lights out but we always think of what we should have done far too late. Hubby and I had been talking about the small chance of his dad ever making it over and with hubby working, I could probably take (very English) father-in-law around Bangkok. But then we thought about what people would think! So here are a couple of thoughts:

1) does it matter what people think? Not that there's anything wrong with Thai bar girls - or rather that's a whole other debate - but I don't think any girl likes to be mistaken for a prozzie!
2) am I just being paranoid? am I assuming the old farang git meant what I think he meant?
3) should we always assume that when we see older foreign blokes with young Thai girls it means what we think it means?

The runs...

So far I have managed to avoid the runs. There's been the odd uncomfortable tummy and the after effects of an overly-chilli meal, but all in all I've done pretty well out of eating in BKK. Unfortunately, the runs have caught up with both hubby and dad. I've been taking dad down to the local university canteen (a full meal for 30 pence!) and the resto downstairs and he's been frankly quite hesitant due to hygiene, cleanliness, places resembling warehouses etc. etc.

I've never had any problem and believe that if there's a lot of other diners, then the food should be pretty safe. And in fact, it looks like the real suspect of this bout of runs is the steak at Piri Piri Chicken (known in the UK as Nando's) on the top floor of Emporium*. Yes, the first western food my dad touches in, let's face it, pretty sterile conditions, induces a bout of runny tummy. As hubby also ate steak and feels similar effects, we must conclude that the source is indeed Emporium. (I ate chickie there and am ok which must prove another point: stick to the speciality of the place).

In fact, wherever dad travels, he must try the steak out. We did learn a lesson from Hong Kong when we all tried a chain called Steak Expert - even more disgusting than an Angus Steak House. My dad calls these establishments 'one time restaurants'. So this is lesson number 2!

NB: All this has not stopped both dad and hubby tucking into whatever is on offer.

*Emporium = one of the poshest shopping centres in BKK.

Do you like Bangkok?

My dad gets asked "So, do you like Bangkok then?" His guarded reply is: "Too early to tell..."
Hmmm... I guess for a 80+ dad with a cantankerous, moody daughter, 35 degree heat, taxi drivers that refuse to take you to those far away tourist spots, and the appalling traffic, Bangers can sure hit you like a cricket bat in the face.

Still, he absolutely loves the fruit and we've consumed more fruit in the past 2 days than I've had in the past 3 months (that is in no way an exaggeration). And of course the spicy food which as a Sichuaner he consumes quite easily. Back home in the UK, he's supposed to be on Canderal, a low chlorestoral diet and avoid migraine-inducing citrus fruits. Over here, it's coconut curries, chili peppers, over-sweet fruit drinks and plenty of those yummy tangerines.

As a keen photographer he's looking for that special photo opportunity - usually unplanned - where the lighting is just so. However, our very first stop off was in fact the IT megalithic mall Parntip Plaza. We've now visited a variety of places, but the one that captivated him was the temple next to the large flower market. The lighting was just so.

Picture by dad 

The white eagle has landed!

This is what we call our dad due to his shock of snow white hair and his Arab-like nose. Yes, bkkmei's dad has landed in town with the same excitable restlessness reserved for all his Asia trips. In fact, he doesn't really have a clue about what there is to do here except the Grand Palace. We've planned a trip to Angkor Wat but he also rambled on about a flying visit to Singapore within the 2 week stay. I knocked that one on the head pretty sharpish: "Singapore!? It's so boring!" OK the food is good, but hell so is Thailand's and a tenth of the price probably. I then outlined the things we could get up to including as many potential photo opps as was possible: temples, cabarets, markets, elephants, crocodiles, beaches, butterfly farms, flower markets, heck even floating markets.

As I tend to find that sometimes you need to plan your trips quite carefully in Bangers in order to avoid traffic / overheating, and as my dad vacillates like a pendulum on what he wants to do, I realise I'm becoming a complete control freak about our itinerary. Sabaai sabaai!

Mozzie-fest

Crumbs! I must have a big sticker on me saying 'easy meat' for all mozzies to guzzle on my blood. My feet are covered in their pesky bites as is my lower back where (I suppose) my t-shirt failed to meet my waistband properly as I slumped on the train seat back home.

Firstly, why do these bites itch so damn much? If they didn't itch, then I wouldn't scratch them which would mean they wouldn't become oversized bruised unsightly lumps which make me look like I have the plague.

Secondly, is there some kind of smell or signal that a successful bite gives off which alerts other mozzies so they can bite around the same area? Or is it the same bitch-mozzie who just comes back for more and has a memory like an elephant?

Thirdly, I always thought mozzies bit around dawn or dusk but I'm pretty sure some of these mozzies are just yapping away during the daytime too.

Fourthly, these Thai mozzies are sly. Unlike other countries where they're always buzzing around your ear annoying the hell out of you, the ones here stay super-quiet and nip far away from your ears or in unslappable areas. I suppose this could be a blessing in disguise, although hubby has now labeled me 'paranoid' as I swat at any flying creature around a centimetre long.

At the beginning I plastered myself with 50% DEET but it can't be healthy to keep doing this. So I'll have a go at more natural varieties, eat loads of garlic and whack on the aircon - those mozzies can be blown to death! I'll forego the temptation to post a piccie of my bites...

Ayutthaya

Ayutthaya used to be the capital of Thailand (then known as Siam) until the Burmese invaded and ransacked it in the 18th century.

An overnight stay there proved to be quite enchanting. The bus only took about one and a half hours even with stop offs to catch stray passengers. We headed off to the old city which has relics of temples centuries old dotted next to roads and shops. You get around by tuk tuk, motorcycle taxi or bicycle. We hired some bikes and it was wonderful to cycle around and suddenly come across ruins of Buddha statues clothed in yellow/orange/saffron robes, or dilapidated stupas, or large red brick columns supporting air.

We also visited the historical study centre - a very modern, concise museum tracing different aspects of Ayutthaya in its prime: trade, foreign relations, daily life etc. Very interesting.

We also took a longtailed boat around the island for 2 hours. A chance to have a good gawk at riverside homes, reach some of the outlying temples and watch the sunset. There are a zillion photo opps I missed - including a classic sunset behind one of the ruins. But I like the one above of 2 girls feeding fat (cat?) fish at one of the Chinese temples. Boy, those fish sure were plump!

Feeding fishes 

Ayutthaya 

Bokor Palace 

Upriver Kampot 

Cambodia - Kampot

After Phnom Penh, we hired a taxi to take us to Kampot - an area previously closed when hubby had been before. Our room had a beautiful view of the river. We hired a small boat to take us upriver as the sun set. Palm trees fringed the banks, boats ferried people & bicycles across the river, flocks of birds passed low overhead...the chug chug chug of the boat lulled one into a hypnotic state of calm. The sun lowered behind the misty hills. Heading back downriver in the dark was perhaps not quite so comforting.

The following day we hired a taxi to take us to Bokor mountain. Usually the road is tackled by 4WD. For 2 hours, a tortured Toyota Camry bumped & grinded uphill tossing us around like ragdolls. But as we neared the summit, thick mist rolled in so fast you'd think there must be a theatrical smoke machine in the wings. At the top, there are an array of abandoned buildings from the French colonial area. The most magnificent is the 4-storey hotel which the Lonely Planet accurately describes as something straight from The Shining. With the mist rolling in, it was more Scotland than Cambodia.

Our arranger took us to Kep - a former colonial seaside town. Again, there are shells of abandoned buildings. Our arranger, who we thought belonged to the hotel, was actually the former manager and also the local military police. He was now arranging various trips right inside the hotel in direct competition with them.

The next day we drove back to Phnom Penh via Takeo. Cambodia proved to be a fascinating & charming place.