Monday Feb 22 PM-Wednesday Feb 24 AM

Monday, February 21, PM

One plus about the MBK shopping mall (containing seven layers of Dante’s inferno for those anti-shoppers like Steve and I) were the lingerie stores. Since most Thai women are petite, all the bras were small. It was heaven for me, seeing size A’s on display. If I would have needed a bra and ventured forth, I’m sure I would have been pleased to find any bra in any color in my size. I wouldn’t have had to wait while some C-cup employee rummaged through the drawers or “looked in the back” to find my small size. Maybe I’ll go back to MBK, give it up for Lent, save some souls in purgatory and get me some bras.

Thai women are very pretty; the men, not so much. The women have beautiful features, flawless skin, and wonderful smiles. The men, not so much. The women are so petite that while letting my mind wander on the Sky Train I envisioned that I could probably put at least one Thai woman in each of my pant legs, they are so tiny. They are all double-zeros for sure. The Thai men I would not want to put in my pant legs, no where near my pants, actually, but they would probably FIT into my pants, because I officially weigh more than any other Thai man I have seen so far. In fact, I’m taller and heavier than anyone in this country. I don’t know if I should boast about that.

In the evening we walked over to The Dome at State Tower to ride up the elevator to the 64th floor where the Sirocco Restaurant is, and the Sky Bar. There was probably not one single Thai person there, it is a tourist trap, but it is a MUST SEE tourist trap. The most spectacular view of the city EVER, and only, because I don’t think any other building or hotel has such a sky-top view. The Sky Bar is super cool, the drinks the most expensive we’ve ever had, and we didn’t even get a proper buzz. I don’t think you can when you pay $60 for two drinks. Forget about ordering wine in Thailand! It’s so expensive here (a cheap white wine is about $18—a glass) that I’ve had to start drinking alcohol again. Oh well…

On the way there, girlies, I was pulled into a store by a white shirt that called out to me. In less than five minutes (my full attention span for shopping) I bought it and had it readied for alterations. It will forever be my official lucky white linen Thai shirt.

After the drink at the Sky Bar we walked back to the hotel and had dinner at The China House. Girls, it was a Chinese, red, restaurant. I sat as usual so Dad could look out, and guess what? We were in a private cubicle and they CLOSED THE DOOR. Not only that, but there were mirrors all around and overhead, so Dad could only see ME, Me, Me, to infinity and beyond. To anyone else but LB and LA reading this blog, it may contain a few inside jokes. When Dad ordered his Dewar’s 12 we listened to our waiter pronouse twelve with three syllables: ta-wel-veh. It was great. We had Peking duck, a whole duck, and Dad ate at least 132 little crepes with duck. Then I had the most awesome noodle dish. The salad was served in little “tabaquitos” all wrapped up. Here everything is bundled, tied, and presented so delicately you almost want to photograph everything you eat.

When we walked back to the sumptuous lobby of the Mandarin Oriental I realized I had mis-described the lobby. There is no rattan here, the rattan is in the Bamboo Bar, where the chairs are all upholstered in animal prints. Gorgeous. The lobby is all wood furniture and the coffee tables look like low mahjong (sp?) tables, beautiful. In fact, at Jim Thompson’s house, since back in the day (1950s) there were no eating tables, he made his dining room out of two real mahjong tables. Factoid.



Tuesday, February 22, 2010 AM

Breakfast by the liver again. I ordered water and they brought me a waffle. I need to pronounce the “t” in water like the English do to avoid further confusion.

Tick picked us up. He said that was his nickname (he kept making an air check-mark whenever he said it, like we wouldn’t understand, and the only way we “got it” is because we know the English use ‘tick’ for a check mark, became most Americans would associate tick with the flea) from his real name that began with Th-----, but that some of his Thai friends pronounced it Thedick, and we could pronounce it that way if we wanted, but I didn’t want to. It made me think of…Richard Nixon. We also learned that the Thai usually call each other by nicknames, that they may know someone for years and never really know their name or surname. We were told that Noi means small, so now we know one of the Winters’ inside jokes.

I loved the history lesson on the way to the Grand Palace about all the Ramas. The current king is Rama 8, who is now 83 years old and was born in Boston. Of course my favorite Rama was the one played by Yul Brenner in the King and I. I have hum torture of “Shall we dance?”.

We also got the scoop on changing the name place from Siam (pronounced See-am) to Thailand. Siam was the name apparently the Portugese gave it, meaning brown. Thailand means freedom, and they are the only Asian country to never have been colonized.

Toured the Grand Palace, and for the ignorant like me it was like Epcot on steroids, but real. There are demon guards and angels everywhere, and the ornate-ness of it all certainly earns this area the adjective “grand.” The curlicues on the tops of the temples are really shapes of mythical birds and ONLY temples can have these specific birds on them.

At the entrance to the temple of the Emerald Buddha there is a big water basin. Here you dip a lotus flower in the water and sprinkle your hair for good luck. It’s just like the Catholics and the little holy water bowls at the entrance to our churches, where you bless yourself before entering. Inside, way up on many pedestals was the emerald Buddha, made out of a single piece of jade. Amazing.

Buddhism: a philosophy or a religion? We spent (I spent) a lot of time asking Tick questions about Buddhism, a lot of “why” questions. Which is the whole counter-point to Buddhism, not asking “why.” But I persisted. Angels are everywhere: where did they come from? Do you believe in a creator God? If not, where did all these angels come from? Who made them? Buddhist angels don't look like Christian angels. They wear cool pointed hats rather than haloes. They are everywhere inside the temple, hundreds of thousands painted by hand, beautiful faces, protecting everywhere. Tick said the Hindu influence of Buddhism in Thailand has merged what was originally intended as a way of life into a religion. Before, people didn’t worship Buddha as they do know. It’s kind of like the Virgin Mary. Catholics will admit the Church says you don’t worship Mary, but people do anyway. They bow to her, make offerings to her, etc., just like Buddha. Also there is only ONE Buddha, like the Virgin Mary. People think there are many Marys, I told Tick, but she’s the same, just different outfits.

Tick was very patient with me and my questions, but I am truly fascinated. You can not argue with people who are so calm, so nice, so well-mannered, so peaceful. Why?

We then went on a canal (klong) tour on a long-tail boat, or the “James Bond boat” as it’s referred to. It’s a long teak boat, pointed in the front, and the motor looks like a big 8-cylinder car engine, without a transmission, direct-drive into the propeller, which is why it has such a long shaft (according to Steve, I have no idea), and they go fast (which explains why 007 would have used it). Exploring the klongs of Bangkok, you see the stilt houses right on the river, piers that lead you to exquisite temples, little spirit houses protecting the homes, restaurants, and all manner of boats and barges conducting business. A woman had a little kiosk-full of items (la mierda that Ana Rasco loves to buy) and I bought a little elephant for Ryan.

We returned to the hotel to leave off some laundry and head out for Chiang Mai.



Tuesday, February 22 – arrival in Chiang Mai

What is more comforting than arriving at an airport and seeing your name on a sign? Then being ushered to a waiting Range Rover with cold towels smelling of mint? Cold bottles of water waiting for you? What could be better than that? All of that and maybe chocolate on top.

The Four Seasons at Chiang Mai is so beautiful it hurts. The reception area is open, revealing below the mini valley that is the grounds of the resort, full of rice paddies and people working in them. The ride from the airport to the resort revealed a very dry landscape, and it is quite a ways from the city. Who cares? Who would want to leave this place? Ever? Here it is a green oasis, women watering the jungle-like retreat we will live in for the next three days. We will try to stretch out every minute. Our room was huge, spacious, greeting cards everywhere and springs rolls, too. When we opened the doors from our bedroom, it led to a little walkway and our own covered terrace, overlooking the rice paddies, the ponds, the resort pools, the other bungalows, the yoga shack. It’s so beautiful, so beautiful. You hear other guests repeat the same mantra that doesn’t leave your mind: I don’t want to leave here, I don’t want to leave here.

When we went back to the lobby, a golf cart awaited to take us to our massages. There were two water buffaloes there, just hanging, a pink one and a grey one. I saw them the next day eating dried leaves. Better than a rake, that’s for damn sure.

I felt yucky from the morning tour so I said I wanted to take a shower before the massage. Well, the massage therapist ran the water for me, in an outside shower, it was wonderful. The massage was beyond any I’d ever had. She dripped so much oil over me I felt anointed, like King David or something, it was holy. The hole you look through in the massage table, when you usually spend ½ the time looking at the floor? Not here. There’s a beautiful bowl there, with three roses floating in water. Details, details, everywhere in Thailand. If they bring you something on a small tray, you can bet there’ll be an orchid on it. The flower arrangements in the big urns everywhere are a color explosion, and usually symmetrical. The lobby flower arrangement is nothing more than a huge bowl full of lotus flowers. What more do you need? Everything here is a sensual experience. After the massages we raided the mini bar and had a drink on our terrace. The lights around the resort sparked, it was magical. The closest thing to this that we’ve experienced were the treetop bungalows at Londolozi in South Africa. This was even more beautiful, and without the threat of lions or crazy monkeys attacking you at night.

Dinner at the hotel restaurant was wonderful, a banana spring roll for dessert. Yumm.



Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Today is the 14th anniversary of the shoot down, and there are many events taking place in Miami to commemorate this event. You can read about it in September 2010 in Seagull One: The Amazing True Story of Brothers to the Rescue

Woke up at 6:15, coffee on the terrace at 6:30, yoga in