Riots in Thailand, May 1992

There was this huge departure board at the Bangkok airport. It was about 3x4 meters in size. Each departing flight was on a line consisting of a number of positions, each of which had 36 rotating flaps: all letters and numbers. When the top flight had left, all positions rattled until the second flight was displayed. Then it rattled and the third flight took the second position. And that happened about 20 times. By the time it was done, sometimes the top flight would already take off and everything would start over.

We spent many hours under that board. Political tensions were running high. The airport was cut off from the city due to heavy riots. The kerosene was almost finished. Could we still get away?

Front page of the Bangkok Post

30 years ago I made my very first trip to Southeast Asia, to Thailand. The global plan was to fly north via Bangkok, descend slowly overland to the south, end up on a bounty island, and then return via Bangkok.

Chiang Mai

With a million inhabitants, Chiang Mai was the second largest city in the country and the capital of the north. The 'old city' ( muang ) lay within a square of about 1x1 kilometer, surrounded by the remains of city walls and a moat.

The larger shopping streets ran between the old center and the river. There was the noise of traffic everywhere: an endless stream of mopeds, tuk-tuks (a kind of covered tricycle mopeds with two-person rear seats, that served as taxis) and songtheaws (Japanese pickup trucks, with two benches in the back that served as busses)

Everywhere in the quiet dusty old center and also around it were dozens of temples ( Wats ). Usually located behind walls, so instantly quieter than the street. They were often somewhat neglected, had bell-shaped stupas, gabled roofs and mosaic decorations, sometimes gilded or with remnants thereof. Sometimes deserted and sometimes still in use, the monks shuffled around there, their heads shaven and wrapped in orange robes. You also regularly saw them in the street, or in the cabin of a songtheaw .

Towards the river was the Night Bazaar, a large market with 1001 stalls with items from the wider area. Clothes, souvenirs, gadgets, rarities, games: everything seemed to be for sale here. 

And the Thai everywhere: smiling back when you smiled at them, leaving you alone when you left them alone, always pleasant and with an inner peace that sometimes radiated visibly.

After a few days it was a national holiday. It had been 46 years since King Bhumibhol was crowned. The king was revered as a semi-god by the Thai, his actions and thoughts (represented in books and music) were widely reported, and criticism would be unimaginable. But it were turbulent times in his kingdom. Every day there were demonstrations against the semi-military government in the square near the eastern city gate (Tha Phae), and there was also unrest in Bangkok, as we read in the English-language newspapers.

For dinner, our favorite destination AUM , a small vegetarian restaurant, soon became dominated by a photo of Sai Baba. Downstairs three small formica tables, upstairs cushions for those who wanted to eat seated on the floor (shoes off). All very simple, but of great quality and very friendly people.

We also regularly visited Daret, a large restaurant with wooden benches and red and white checkered table cloths outdoors under the trees. It was the meeting place for the itinerant backpackers, and also had good food.

On a Saturday night we went to look at some different places of entertainment. You can order a beer (Singha) at the bar or on the semi-open terrace. There were some young Thai ladies at the bar. They would come and have a chat with you and refill your glass of beer. Then they would ask for a drink that was lemonade but cost the same as expensive whiskey. The audience mainly consisted of slightly older men and/or they had already a drinks too many and/or they were quite fat and unattractive. It was no surprise that the ladies preferred to come and have a chat with M and me.

Conversations were in broken English, in the end we also started using a simplified vocabulary and sentence structure. What made it difficult was that the Thais seemed unable to put a sense of time in their language: it was never clear whether something you were talking about was in the future or in the past. Perhaps that was characteristic of the attitude to life: the present is reality. Looking back and forward was not done as much as in the west.

The Golden Triangle

Monday we got up at six o'clock, along with the sun, for a day trip to the northernmost tip of Thailand. This region used to be notorious as the world center of opium cultivation. Now it was mainly the three-country point that attracted tourists. A row of stalls selling food (including our lunch) and souvenirs had formed along the way, and children in traditional costumes had themselves photographed for ten baht .

In the background, majestically wide and imposing, lay the Mekong, one of the mightiest rivers in the world. Brown muddy flowing. On the other side the banks of Laos, and a little further on behind a branch was Myanmar (Burma). A few dozen meters below us small narrow boats were moored. Every now and then one would come by with a deafening roar from the engine - they could go pretty fast.

Over a dirt road that our van could barely navigate, we went to the next stop, the border town of Mae Sai. The border here was formed by a small, narrow river. You could cross the bridge and even take a few steps past the barriers, so that we had actually set foot on Burmese territory, but you couldn't really get in here as a foreigner. It was possible for the border residents to cross on foot, which resulted in a steady flow in both directions. In Mae Sai there were also many stalls and shops, and it was very busy.

On the way back we stopped late in the afternoon in two 'hilltribe villages'. These were ethnically different people, and the already limited economic growth of the rest of Thailand seemed to have passed them by (except for those who had discovered tourism). It looked very shabby: unpaved dirt roads, wooden huts, some free-range chickens, children who came barefoot and in a worn dress or t-shirt asking for ten baht .

Sukhothai

We liked Chiang Mai so much, with its relaxed atmosphere and the many excursion options, that we lingered longer than intended. But today we finally moved on as by our original plan: a stage to the south, 5 hours by bus to Sukhothai.

Sukhothai was much poorer, less touristy and less exposed to western influences than Chiang Mai. Most people who visited the ruins of this ancient Thai capital did so from nearby Phitsunalok. There was a still, scorching heat.

The next morning we hired a tuk-tuk with a driver, who could drive us around for a couple of hours. That took us through a very beautiful, vast area full of ruins and sometimes partially restored remains of temples, palaces, lily ponds, statues of Buddhas and elephants, ... Too much to take in. An entire city had once stood here in all its glory. And now only the remains between the open meadows, a few people looking around, otherwise it was absolutely quiet and deserted. It was also pretty hot between the stone remains.

Back to 'new' Sukhothai. Our hotel had no room for that night. Moving to another? Well, actually we had seen everything here. Maybe move on to the next destination south? ... Or-eh...? Why not back to Chiang Mai? We looked at each other again, and it was deceded. On to the bus station.

Bangkok

We had lingered in the north of Thailand for so long that we finally took the plane to Bangkok. At that time, Don Muang was the only airport in Bangkok, the international and domestic terminals were a kilometer apart. In the arrivals hall it seemed like you could only take expensive limousines into the city. Eventually we found out that there was also a city bus that stopped along the eight-lane highway that passed in front of the terminal. In the increasingly busy traffic, the bus didn't make much progress, but after more than an hour we arrived at Siam Square, the neighborhood we had chosen to look for a hotel. Not the cheapest area,  between the center and the business and entertainment districts.

There was a wide range of hotels in the alley. The ones up front were a bit overpriced, the ones in the middle too shabby, but the last one in the back, Wendy's, was fine: modern and clean and cool.

Siam Square  would always remain my favorite area of ​​Bangkok. With the arrival of the Skytrain it has only become more attractive as a base.

We took a look at MBK, the large department store on Siam Square. (Later, another row of much more luxurious department stores would appear along Siam Square.)

The pedestrian flyovers also led into the complex, forcing you not only to walk through it, but were also concealed in such a way that you almost certainly had to get lost. It consisted of some large, expensive shops, and long corridors of small shops with everything you could imagine. We went to eat at the foodmarket on the top floor of the department store. It consisted of a lot of small food stalls, including a few vegetarian ones with delicious food. Strange that something you would expect outside, is upstairs in a large building.

Bangkok was a stuffy, oppressive, hot, dirty, noisy, big city. About ten million inhabitants. Wide streets with six lanes of rushing or jammed traffic. Crossing was sometimes impossible, and then you had to use one of the many pedestrian bridges. A system of toll/motorways was constructed on high concrete pillers.

In the evening we walked to Patpong, the entertainment center. It was a lot less innocent than in Chiang Mai. Much more noise, advertising and people trying to lure you in. Here's that dubious phenomenon of go-go dancers: girls in bathing suits dancing on the bar in disco light.

To the centre. First a temple with a solid gold Buddha statue. Then a long walk through Chinatown, with very narrow streets completely jammed with market stalls with all kinds of vegetables and fish. We didn't see a restaurant that was open, and it seemed impossible to get something vegetarian at the stalls on the street. Well, finally a bite of rice.

At the end of what seemed to be a dead end street, you could go through a kind of gate and you came to the stop of the riverboat, which sailed the Chao Praya like a kind of bus. We zigzagged from one bank to the other, with magnificent views of river life, boats and buildings along the bank.

From where we got off the boat we walked through the neighborhood with the low-budget hotels. We had a thick banana pancake somewhere and tasted the special atmosphere of that neighborhood. Khao San Road was not for us.

The next day again we took a bus (Skytrain/BTS and metro did not exist yet) into the center. We walked past the Democracy Monument along a field where again all kinds of demonstrations were held. Towards the royal palace, but we were not allowed in because we were wearing shorts. Smartly, some traders had anticipated this because you could buy long trousers opposite. But we only saw the white outer walls with battlements.

To Wat Po, a large monastery complex with all kinds of beautiful, partly dilapidated and partly restored stupas . And with the gigantic reclining Buddha: fifty meters long, and gilded. There was also a school in traditional Thai massage on the monastery grounds, where you could both take lessons and undergo treatment. In a hall about thirty mattresses were placed next to each other. You had to wash your feet and put on a loose-fitting cotton shirt and pants. In addition to their hands, they also used legs and feet to squeeze you into all kinds of poses. In addition to your muscles, your guts and bloodstreams were also manipulated. Blood supply from your arms and legs  was pinched off for a minute...

If you got to know it a little better, through the hectic, busy, sweaty Bangkok you saw  a city with its own atmosphere, charm and even tranquility.

We followed the developments in the English-language newspapers. The tension seemed to be mounting. Large demonstrations had been announced by the opposition for the weekend, which had been banned by the government. The tone grew grim. We thought it was time to leave this city.

Phuket

By plane to Phuket. A large island in the south of Thailand, on the Indian (west) coast.

Phuket town was a true provincial town, with shops and a lot of traffic. But for tourists there wasn't much. They were all on the various beaches the island had.

On Sunday we also decided to move to the coast. Behind the market the buses left for all corners of the island. Ours was a slightly larger sized truck, with four long benches in the back that could seat about fifty people. With that we drove to Patong Beach, one of the older 'resorts'. In the meantime, new beaches were developed, each targeting their own audience (more chic, more sporty, etc.).

Patong lay in a bay. The main road ran parallel to the beach. Left and right, the forested foothills of the hills ran into the sea. At the end the beach was pierced by a small river, and you could just wade past it. Or couldn't we, and did we have to cross the old uphill bridge? On the beach some palm trees provided some shade, which was welcome under the scorching sun. That very sun had put us on the wrong foot orientation-wise: we lost our direction for a while, until we realized that we were below the Tropic of Cancer, and the sun was now in the north!

In the meantime, we followed the news closely. The demonstration at the Democracy Monument in Bangkok had gotten completely out of hand. Hundreds were killed in shootings, and the chaos was complete. When we read on Tuesday that the kerosene supply at Bangkok airport was only sufficient for two more days, we decided to leave the next day. Calling the KLM office in Bangkok heeded no response (!?).

End

Although the plane to Amsterdam didn't leave until after midnight, we didn't want to risk taking the last flight out of Phuket, so at noon we went to Phuket airport. We just caught the two oçlock flight, so that we were already at the airport of Bangkok at three in the afternoon - while KLM would only leave at half past one in the morning. First we made inquiries at the KLM office. There we heard that for security reasons the employees had already stayed at the airport for a few days, and that in the meantime no traffic was possible between the city and the airport.

The long wait began. Sit down for a while. Then take a walk through the large, overcrowded departure hall. Then sit down again. Then take a trip outside over the highway and railway, where in the oppressive heat there was a small market and some shops next to the train station with wooden roofs. Then sit down again. Then have a snack in the cafeteria. Then sit down again. Then stretch out for a while in a quiet hallway on the cold floor. Then again sit in front of the large departure board, where the new flights appeared clattering. In the night we saw a lot of flight to Europe saw leave - KLM would be the last in line.

Then, at midnight: great excitement! The monitors in the departure hall switched to a live speech given by the king. All the Thais ran from behind their counters to crowd in front of the screen. The king, standing far above the parties here, had finally decided to intervene and summoned the government and opposition leader. According to Thai custom (your head should always be lower than the king's) they knelt at his feet. He ordered them to shake hands and admonished them to reconcile. And with that, the worst of the bloodshed seemed to end at least for now.

from left to right Chamlong Srimuang, General Suchinda Kraprayoon, King Bhumibhol

At that exact moment we had to go through customs and to the gate for our flight back to Amsterdam.

I would go back to Thailand about 15 more times in the next 30 years, and also several times to 6 of the neighboring countries. My favorite region first was the north, then the northeast, and nowadays the south and Bangkok. Read more Thailand blogs here .

In the same 30 years, there have been more riots and mass demonstrations, and several coups by the military.

Nathaniel's Nutmeg - Giles Milton - book review

"Nathaniel's Nutmeg" is a vivid and gripping story about the search for the spice islands and about the struggle to get hold of the spice trade. Spices such as cloves, mace and especially nutmeg were just about the only means to keep food (or to suppress the spoiled taste) and to cure diseases (or to soothe them). Nutmeg was more expensive in Europe than gold, while in the Far East it could be picked up for a dime. If you survived the long and dangerous sea journey.

The highs and lows take place at the end of the 16th, beginning of the 17th century. From an English perspective we read about the distress on the ships and in the outposts and how the Dutch get the upper hand on the Moluccas / Banda islands. Notorious Dutchmen like Jan Pieterszoon Coen play a leading role. The book provides a staggering insight into a period of history of which you may have been vaguely aware, but probably know no details.

Two things stand out. 

(1) Being Dutch, I will be the last to play down how violent, ruthless and unjust the VOC has conquered Indonesia. The writer explicitly says so too. Remarkably, on the other hand he portrays the English as honest, reliable and loved by the local people. If they are ever betrayed, murdered, extradited or exploited by an Englishman, that was the incidental misconduct of an individual. The English people as a whole retain the moral upper hand. It takes little insight to see that the English were no better than the Dutch.

(2) The title and subtitle ("How one man's courage changed the course of history") do little justice to the content of the book. Nathaniel Courthope plays a minor role and his contribution is that he managed to defend a small island (Run, one of the Bandas) for a few years. That should have given the English a piece of the spice trade - but failed. 

Decades later, as part of a peace treaty that mutually consolidated conquered territories, Run island became Dutch and Manhattan became English. And the latter island is indeed of greater importance in today's world. The book omits what Dutch schoolbooks find more important: Surinam (Dutch Guyana) was part of that deal - they don't even mention Run. Of all the factors that led to that exchange and the rise of New York, the steadfastness of Courthope was only a futile one. By making New York so much more important than the Moluccas, the book unmeritly subverts its own importance to understanding history.

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The last king of Burma and the last emperor of India (2/2) The Last Mughal - William Dalrymple

William Dalrymple - The Last Mughal

Dalrymple describes the events surrounding the great uprising in India from an original perspective, which differs considerably from British historiography.

Bahadur Shah Zafar was the emperor or mughal of India in name, but all the power was with the British occupiers. After the mutiny in 1857-1858 he was exiled (forever disturbing the balance between Hindus and Muslims in India along the way) to Rangoon in Burma - now Yangon in Myanmar. There he died in 1862. He was buried as quickly as possible by the British in a secret place, not to create a place of pilgrimage for anti-British. His grave was rediscovered in 1991.

The location of his grave had been a secret for a long time. But the book gave some clues as to where it was, so now we wanted to look for it. The first step was to find a hotel in the part of the city where the grave should be. Theatre road now had a Burmese name, but our guess was it must have been near the National Theatre.

The second step was to inquire about the Shah's grave at the hotel reception. Five people pieced the answer together, and they even sketched us a map. It was a half-hour walk. Through the embassy area, with many vacant ministries. The capital was recently moved to a newly built city in the interior. The Russian embassy was an unprecedented fortress with high walls, lots of barbed wire, heavy security and fenced off streets.

When we arrived at the destination, we had to ask for the exact location. Five different people gave four opposite directions. But after fifteen more minutes we had found the right place.

A modest compound with small minarets; some halls ("established in cooperation with the Government of India"); three "graves" that looked like a made-up bed, for the Shah, his wife and his daughter-in-law. A little further on, where his real grave was found in 1990, a basement with another tomb.

There were some visitors who worshiped the deceased as saints (in the religious sense). It was lively and serene at the same time. The whole thing was simple but made quite an impression.

 Yangon, January 2008

The last emperor of India had been exiled to Burma. The last king of Burma had been exiled to India. I had now visited the last place of residence / grave of both. This makes history tangible.

PS Nowadays both places are easy to find on Google Maps and attract quite some foreign visitors.

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The last king of Burma and the last emperor of India (1/2) The Glass Palace - Amitav Ghosh

The British used to ban defeated and deposed rulers from their colonies to other countries. This way they prevented them from becoming a martyr who might inspire rebels.

The last king of Burma and the last emperor of India were exiled to each other's country, and I visited the last hometown / resting place of both. In both cases following instructions in a book in which they appear.

Amitav Ghosh - The Glass Palace

The Glass Palace is a beautiful novel against the historical background of Thebaw, the last king of Burma, and what became of his staff and acquaintances. The different storylines develop across India, Burma and Malaysia. I had already visited most of the places where the book is located: Mandalay, Rangoon, Calcutta, Penang and even the hidden archaeological excavations of Lembah Bujang.

Thebaw was deposed in 1885. He was exiled to Ratnagiri, a small town on the west coast of India, some 300 km south of Bombay - now Mumbai. A small palace was built for him. He died in 1916 and was buried in a walled part of the Christian cemetery.

So, the reason I visited Ratnagiri was to visit the king's palace. It was a lot more impressive than I expected: fairly large, three storeys, verandas and balcony, majestic, on a large compound. The outbuildings now house an archaeological or educational institute. The main building was empty. Grass grew through the cracks, roof tiles had snapped, windows were broken. The doors were locked. For a moment I considered breaking in, which would surely succeed with some force, but I rejected that.

I walked around the building a couple of times and found a staircase that took me to the rear balcony. One door there was not locked. That was a way inside. I wandered through the deserted halls and rooms, over the large wooden stairs and up to the front balcony, from where the king looked out over the mouth of the river and the bay. That was an important element in the book, and it was overwhelming I could enjoy the same view.

Opposite the palace, a stone staircase led down the hill. I walked down to a small settlement of shabby huts. I climbed back up and went looking for the Collector's Bungalow. The collector and his wife also played an important part in the book. This place was harder to find, everybody pointed me in a different direction. In the end it turned out to be a surprisingly simple retreat for what was at the time the district's most important British civil servant. At the bottom of the garden was indeed a place where you could sit and look over the river.

Ratnagiri, November 2004

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The Monk Of Mokha - Dave Eggers - book review

A fascinating book for those who - just like Lily - love coffee and culture. It is a blend of the American dream, the history of coffee and a good dash of Yemen.

Having visited Yemen back in the day, I remain interested in this beautiful and tragical country.

Mokha, a port in Yemen, once was the center of the global coffee trade and has given its name to a top quality coffee bean.

Mokhtar is an aimless underprivileged youngster who becomes a successful businessman (while it lasts). He is described vividly enough to get annoyed over his stupid decisions. Along the way countless interesting facts about growing, harvesting and roasting coffee come along.

In order not to disturb the happy ending, the developments of the war in Yemen are not mentioned. The USA's very dubious role in this is conveniently left out.

Dave Eggers strength is content and storyline over his prose power and that's why it's okay to read the translated Dutch edition. Maybe it reads even better than the real thing.

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Cats and dogs

In general you can say that cities are feline territories, and the countryside is canine territory. That is why in Asia, when you take a walk out of town, you always need a stick. Cyclists tell me they go right for the calves. If you are going to cycle here, a rabies vaccination is recommended. Then you have 48 hours instead of 24 hours to find the life-saving serum, if you get bitten.

And there are towns that are in between - just. During the day, you see  cats walking around, or sleeping on the sidewalk in front of their house / shop. They push their head against your legs and let themselves be stroked under their chin and purr.

But after 8 o'clock at night, when it is dark and it gets quieter, the dogs take over the streets. Packs of dogs roam, and where you could easily pass a sleeping dog during the day, now they bark at you. The first gets the next started, and before you know it you have a whole bunch coming after you. They are not completely wild though: if they come too close, it is usually enough to raise a finger (literally) and then they back off.

The cats have withdrawn further, you can still see them sleeping here and there, but they keep still.

Coffee Museum: World wide ways to make coffee

Lily likes coffee. There are many ways to make coffee. Various countries and regions prefer various methods. Over the years we've seen a lot of them. Let's have a closer look at some of them.

In The Netherlands and surrounding countries filter coffee is very popular. Hand-poured filter-coffee probably is the most delicious coffee around. Especially if you like a soft, round taste. Filter coffee is more healthy because cholesterol raising substances are caught in the paper filter.

The second half of the 20^th century saw th coffee machine as the most widely used way to make coffee in The Netherlands. Add water and coffee powder, and the machine does the work. Later one-serving-machines like Senseo and Nespresso and the likes became more popular.

Instant coffee is considered an easy and cheap way to make inferior coffee in The Netherlands. Elsewhere it is more popular. In England with water. In India with buffalo milk. In South America and Southeast Asia it is often sold pre-packed / pre-mixed with sugar and non-dairy creamer: "3-in-1".  The taste of coffee is hard to find but it makes a comforting "hot drink".
If you prefer black coffee, these regions are hard on you. In recent years Southeast Asia developed a more tasteful coffee culture based on espresso machines.

In South India the taste is extracted from the coffee with hot water ("decoction"). Various cities and states claim to be the origin (o.a. Kumbakonam, Mylapore, Kerala en Tamil Nadu). It produces a very strong coffee extract in the lower reservoir. Add hot water to make your cup of coffee.  It’s most commonly referred to as Madras Filter Coffee, even though no filter is used...
More at https://recipesaresimple.com/how-to-make-coffee-decoction/

In France the cafetière is popular. Put coarsely ground  coffee in the jar and poor hot water on top. After five minutes gently push the sludge down. This coffee can contain up to 30 times as much cafestol (cholesterol raising substance) as filter coffee.

Probably also from France, but we saw it in Belgium and Vietnam: this traditional method to make one cup of coffee. Put the holder on top of a cup; put a round filter at the bottum; put a spoonful of coffee; pour hot water. Put the lid on top and that is how you get it served in a restaurant.

The espresso cooker is very popular in Spain and Italy. Put water in the lower compartment and fine ground coffee in the middle compartment. Put on a low stove. The water will be forced through the coffee and end up in the upper reservoir. It's the same principle as a big professional espresso machine.
More at https://www.waterlily-unlimited.nl/espresso/english.html

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More on the history of coffee and a good dash of Yemen: The Monk of Mokha

Travelogue 2019/4, Canopy walk and Khmer Temple (Thailand)

It took some effort to get up and start moving again. I had to return to Bangkok after all. The first stage was a short one: to Trang by bus. After that I would take some long, long train rides.

Trang & the Canopy walk 

Like the other relatively young cities Hat Yai and Phatthalung in the region (founded 100 years ago, with the construction of the railways), Trang has a large ethnic-Chinese population.

Trang is a transfer point for tourists on their way to the islands in the Andaman sea. They remain in town just one night and may miss some stunning sights.

Almost all of the original vegetation in Thailand has been cut down or burnt down. In the south for rubber plantations, in the center for rice paddies. The occasional plot has escaped. Outside Trang a 1x4km area of original jungle has been turned into a botanical garden. With a trail through it.

It felt as if I walked into the jungle instantly. Which was just what I did. Except for the trail and a few signs, in Thai, everything was original jungle. Most varied: denser and thinner, lighter and darker, higher and lower, drier and wetter. Palms, ferns, bamboo, tall trees, parasite plants, lianas, gigantic leaves - it was all there.

In the distance I could hear traffic noise, but closer by was the sound of birds, insects and the rustling of lizards through the leaves.

At one point, a red-colored construction rose up between the green: an iron watchtower. I  climbed it to about 9m. There was an iron suspension bridge to the next tower, about 40 meters further. There I could go up the stairs and on to the next, higher suspension bridge. Same again to the third and middle suspension bridge that rose to 18m. Then I really walked alongside the higher treetops, and looked down on the lower parts of forest. That was very special.

After the canopy walk the path continued through the wet part, the "swamp". Today it was not too wet, only the middle part was submerged.

From there the trail returned to the starting point. All in all, the walk had lasted an hour. Time for a break at the coffee shop. The ladies of the shop and the information boots had a kind of jungle camouflage blouse as a uniform. Most charming.

Kanchanaburi & the Khmer tempels

Kanchanaburi is best known for the "Bridge over the River Kwai" and the horrors of the Burma Railway. It is also a base for natural beauty further down the valley. One street in the town has become a mini tourist ghetto with a series of guesthouses, bars, restaurants and massage parlours.

If you want to have a drink in the evening, there are countless possibilities. There are bars with groups of beer-drinking men. There are large sports cafes with large TV screens. There are cocktail bars with a/c and fluorescent lighting. There are bars with musical instruments set up on stage (but no musicians yet). There are bars where ladies with deep necklines help you finish your beer fast and order another one. And then there is the bench in front of the supermarket, where a man drinks the can of beer he just bought inside. It was not so much the setting, but the blank expression in his face that gave it such a sad look.

There is a lesser-known sight. On my travels I visited many temples, often Khmer temples, satellite cities of the famous Angor Wat. Prasat Muang Singh is the westernmost Khmer site and far from the others in Cambodia and Isan. Also relatively far from Kanchanaburi, 40km, and the only public transport is the train. It only runs a few times a day and there is actually only one combination of return trains that can be done. If the trains are on time.

According to a sign in the station, the train would arrive 10 minutes late. That should leave me just enough time. Whole school groups were waiting. And already three special wagons for foreigners at tourist price (100b), because this ride also did the passage of The Bridge. When the train arrived from Thonburi, the locomotive was disconnected, it picked up our wagons, drove a lot forward, then backed up again to connect to the wagons from Thonburi. So we became an extra long train.

We drove over The Bridge very slowly. Funny to see that from the other side, just like the market of Samut Songkhram, which we have also seen from two sides - once from inside the train, once from outside the train. 


After The Bridge, the tracks followed the valley of the Kwae Noi. Lots of agriculture, rice fields, corn, bananas, crops that I did not know. Occasionally unexplored tracts of land with the bamboo bush that was so characteristic of the Hellfire Pass. Villages, Buddhist monasteries, schools, children and farm workers waved to the train. Sometimes we had a view of the river, which was quite wide despite its name.

With a fifteen minute delay we arrived at the Tha Kilen station. A few tourists got out, who were met by a waiting van. Most people continued to the end of the line. I was the only one who walked the 500m long road from the station to the village, between the fields. It was about noon, a scorching heat had stopped everything. It was beautiful!

The village was a T-junction with 8 shed-like buildings. One was a kind of shop with a very old lady. I was unable to communicate properly, she did not understand that I was asking for a cola. Fortunately I was able to get it myself. But when I forgot my walking stick, she came calling after me - and her gestures showed that she understood why I had it with me - and that I needed it to scare away the dogs.

The entrance to the historic site was another 500m away, just before the ancient city walls. The site was 9 centuries old and excavated from the jungle over 40 years ago and beautifully maintained. The areas between wall, moat and buildings were neatly raked. In historical monuments, these are often lawns, here it was an open forest.

A path through the trees led to the central part, the remains of a temple. Outer walls, a passage that was still partly covered, a middle building with a statue and a second, higher building whose roof was still intact, with a statue. The stones were weathered and mossy and hot in the sun. It radiated power and strength.

I was the only one here. I sat in the courtyard of the main building. Then I walked to the parking lot where there were toilets. And a stall with fried noodles. A real lunch was tempting.

When I finished it, I had only 45 minutes left until the train would leave. But I still wanted to see how the walled city touched the river, so I walked along the south wall. That was further than I thought and time was running out. I was about fifteen minutes short.

The strip between the city wall and the river was beautified, a kind of park with covered seating areas and something that might have been a restaurant and guest rooms. Here you could really have enjoyed the view. 

But I had to hurry to catch the train. And at 37 degrees, that's not what you want. Back through the gate, the access road, through the village, the station road. I did not suffer from overheating, but my legs hurt. With 5 minutes spare I arrived at the station. Time enough to buy a cup of coffee before the train arrived.

Travelogue 2019/3, Destination reached: Satun (Thailand)

Our final train ride southbound was to Hat Yai, the biggest Thai city south of Bangkok and an important transport hub. For Malaysia Hat Yai is what Amsterdam is for England: you go there for the weekend for everything that god and your own country have forbidden.

This time we only stayed for lunch. With a mini-van we crossed over to the west side of Thailand, the Andaman coast, where it is warmer and sunnier.

In Satun we received a warm welcome in our guesthouse / resort. 

Home sweet home

This was our fourth time in Satun in five years. And we still find it delightful. How come? It’s a combination of many things.

The resort where we stay is beautiful. The cottages are designed tastefully and maintained well. Comfortable bed and plenty of space. A private veranda overlooking the well-tended garden. The pool is great to cool down in the afternoon. 

Usually It’s not crowded. On weekdays but a few houses are occupied, during the weekend more. The visitors are a mix of Westerners living on Langkawi and Malaysian and Thai families. Almost always quiet people. The staff is always nice and helpful.

The resort is located on the outskirts of town, between cow pastures and tall palm and tamarind trees. When the sun rises, there's an incredible noise of birds and insects, accompanied by the call for prayer in the distance.

It’s a 15 minute walk down town. Satun is a small town, with several restaurants that we like. Rich, creamy Thai curry in one, spicy Malay noodles in another, English pizza at Bobby's, one of the few expats living here.

Almost every walk in town we experience something new or unexpected. We discover a new street of a new store, we have coffee in a new coffee shop, we see cats sleeping in the strangest places, we see a snake zigzagging across the road, we see a new construction project of a dilapidated corner.

Outside the city you can make the most beautiful walks. Alongside rubber plantations and fish ponds, or through the mangrove forests. In a rubber plantation we saw trees with the cups filled with fresh rubber. Normally they are emptied early in the morning, or you see old neglected trees.

Walking through the mangrove forest we came as close as 8½km to the Malaysian border. As the crow flies. With impenetrable mangrove, swamp, delta and jungle in between. It would be 80km by road.

We made two trips out of town. The young lady who made us an ice coffee 5 years ago, and who made an impression because of the mindfulness and love she applied to that, had moved a few times and now had a coffee stall 30km away. It was lovely to see her again.

Our receptionist invited us for a trip to a fishing village that until recently was only accessible by boat. Now you drive 10km through mangrove forests on a wide and winding road. The hamlet is a different side of Thailand: simple wooden houses on stilts, life here is hard and shabby.

We spoke two volunteers who worked for a year in a similar village. That’s tough: nobody speaks decent English, never eating good food, completely depending on yourself.

Meanwhile it got hotter every day. Especially the sun became increasingly fierceful.

Red Bull

The only thing that can give you a boost in this oppressive heat is an iced coffee. Specifically one with condensed milk ánd coffee milk ánd milk powder. It is refreshing and energizing at the same time. The combination of caffeine, sugar and milk fats apparently has this special effect - for hours you are wide awake.

The recipe for Red Bull is derived from this.

You may think that Red Bull comes from Austria. No, it is a Thai thing, but the inventor had an Austrian partner for the global marketing. That has proved successful, one might say. The Yoovidhya family is one of the richest in Thailand.

I’ll take the "original version" - sometimes with milk and sometimes black - but always with less sugar than the Thai do.

Chinese New Year

Some Thai cities, like Ayutthaya and Trang, have a prominent Chinese population and CNY eclipses public life for weeks. There are markets, fairs, stages with music and shows, parades with dragons and drums, everyone wears new red clothes, and meals are put on a table for their ancestors.

Much less so in Satun. Still, a lot of red lanterns dangle throughout the city. Many businesses are closed for a few days or a week, so the already quiet city seems almost extinct.

People are broad minded here, which is prooved by Muslima’s wearing red CNY dresses.

Cats and dogs

In general you can say that cities are feline territories, and the countryside is canine territory. That is why in Asia, when you take a walk out of town, you always need a stick. Cyclists tell me they go right for the calves. If you are going to cycle here, a rabies vaccination is recommended. Then you have 48 hours instead of 24 hours to find the life-saving serum, if you get bitten.

According to this classification Satun is a town - just. During the day, you see  cats walking around, or sleeping on the sidewalk in front of their house / shop. They push their head against your legs and let themselves be stroked under their chin and purr.

But after 8 o'clock at night, when it is dark and it gets quieter, the dogs take over the streets. Packs of dogs roam, and where you could easily pass a sleeping dog during the day, now they bark at you. The first gets the next started, and before you know it you have a whole bunch coming after you. They are not completely wild though: if they come too close, it is usually enough to raise a finger (literally) and then they back off.

The cats have withdrawn further, you can still see them sleeping here and there, but they keep still.