From a Thai jungle.

Our two days in Bangkok more than met expectations. We got in at about 11:30 p.m. and cleared passport control, baggage, and customs all in less than an hour (I know plenty of airports that could take a lesson; I'm looking at you, Sydney). We paid top dollar for a minivan to our hotel, but "top dollar" in Bangkok is still startlingly little money, so there's no point in being miserly. It's our good fortune that we can afford to visit here; it would be churlish to haggle over every baht as if we were in the same position as the people who have to try and make a living here (more on that later).

The hotel was very, very, very nice, particularly considering what we were paying. We were sickeningly exhausted, though, so we couldn't really do more than say "Thank God it's nice enough" before collapsing.

The next morning we awoke and had a breakfast that was a fascinating melange of American and Thai food. The bacon was a strange, unappetizing, dull brown, but I realized that was probably because American bacon is pumped full of stuff to keep it from turning dull brown when you cook it and Thai bacon most likely isn't. It tasted like American bacon, which is always a good thing, so that was all right. I also had a little adventure and completed my breakfast with a bit of steamed rice and red curry sauce — whoo! Whoo! Man, that was hot. But I discovered that starting one's day with a massive hit of chilli is a good thing. (Whoo!)

After breakfast, one of the hotel staff drove us to the older part of the city, specifically to the temple (wat) where the Emerald Buddha is. The whole wat complex was entirely overwhelming; photos don't even begin to do it justice. Here are a few anyway:









And those aren't even a thousandth of what there is to see there.

I was struck, as we sat inside the temple, carefully not showing the soles of our feet toward the Buddha statue, that even the very existence of a beautiful place like this is a lesson in non-attachment. Temples, mosques, churches, every place of worship that people have labored to make beautiful is a place where you go, marvel, nourish your soul with the riches and artistry inside, and leave it behind. It's not yours, it will never be yours. But you can go anytime you like and lay claim to your right as a human being to love and be purified by art, by beauty, by your yearning for higher things: braver, brighter things. Without the need to take them home and control them.

After the temple and a few other ornate buildings that were in the area, we wandered through a market area. We bought a few things, haggled a bit (but not too much, more for the game of it than anything), ate some street food, chatted with a few people. Here's one of the things we saw as we walked around:



Yes. A street-corner stand selling dentures. And there were many of them, many!

At one point we ducked down a cat-filled alley, wondering whether it was a shortcut to anywhere. Turns out it finished on an alarmingly rickety pier over the river, and it was a residential street! The conditions were not exactly squalid, but they were a bit moldy, a bit stinky, particularly out on the pier itself. It was crammed with little houses, far smaller than you'd think could house a family, but they do. At the end of the pier a bunch of kids were swimming in the river (which is something I'd never, never do, not that river). "Hello, hello!" they called out. "Hello!" we called back. Smiles all around.

The dad of some of the kids came up to us, since we obviously were tourists, and pointed out a few things he recommended we see. Houston tried to give him some baht to thank him for his trouble, and he refused! Up until that moment, we'd been struck by how much everything — everything — in Thailand seems to focus on and revolve around money, and the struggle for money. And here was this guy, living in unbelievably modest circumstances, helping us truly out of the goodness of his heart. And he proudly showed us a photo of his kids before we headed off. What an amazing encounter.

We walked past a food stall in the markets that suddenly looked and smelled really good to all of us. It's surprising, because it was, by American and Australian standards, quite shabby-looking. (See photo below.) But it was clean, and the food was fantastic, and the people were nice, and it was cool to look down through the cracks between the floorboards and watch the river going by, and it cost us next to nothing. I've eaten in similar places in, for example, Jamaica, and it's always a jarring experience just how much luxury we're conditioned to. How much, really, do you need beyond cleanliness, courtesy, and good food to have a nice meal?



Because we were still sleep-deprived and jet-lagged, we only spent a little more time in the market area after that. Sadly, dinner in the hotel did not live up to our pleasant lunchtime experience, but it saved us trying to scavenge dinner out at night when we were sleep-deprived and jet-lagged.

This morning we flew to Phuket. We were a bit apprehensive, because (as you may know) there's been a bit of civil unrest in Thailand, and Phuket Airport was one of the epicenters. But aside from a few groups of bored-looking young cops toting riot gear at the major tourist attractions, we've seen no trouble yet. Knock on wood. Our hotel here is up in the volcanic hills, and we arrived in torrential tropical rain. (The staff was very apologetic, but I have no idea what they reckoned they should have done about it to make our stay less waterlogged.) Here's the view off the balcony/lanai thing out the front of our room:



We're now waiting for some Aussie friends who just moved to Phuket to get here and join us for dinner — it's nice to meet up with friends! And we have TimTams for them....