After spending six weeks in Thailand, I had a new appreciation for how Asians like to dine. My boyfriend and I didn’t get sick (at least not from the food), and we enjoyed all manner of Thai eateries. Here are some highlights (and otherwise) of our culinary adventures

Street Food: Are You Brave?

For those with an iron constitution and a little courage, the street food in Asia is not only cheap and cheerful, but also a staple for many residents. Usually for less than a dollar, you can help yourself to a serving of your favourite meal, cooked right in front of you. Pad Thai, curries, sweet roti, fried rice, green papaya salad, fried meats and fish, and yes – even insects, are available for sampling.

Some of the best places to enjoy a street-food-meal are at the local markets, where in between shopping for local crafts and souvenirs, you can stop off for a meal or drink.

The best way to avoid a case of digestive distress from eating street food is to choose stands that are frequented by locals, and have a high turnover. In fact, some would argue that street food is more sanitary; you can watch the food being prepared in front of you, which takes some of the mystery out of the matter compared to eating at a restaurant.

We enjoyed the street food of Asia, and had no incidents to speak of (as many people worry about). I will say though, that after many weeks of this type of eating (ie: eating while standing or walking through thick crowds, and typically shoveling the food down whilst in search of our next street-food course), we found that our ability to simply sit down and enjoy a meal is now hindered. But at restaurants they tend to look at us funny if we say we want to eat standing up, so we sit down, try to slow down, and not rush off to another restaurant as soon as we’re finished.

“To Go, Please”

Asian people also don’t like to eat while standing and walking, so when they choose to eat street food, they often get it to go. And when you order this way, you can expect your meal to be served up…in a plastic bag.

Order curry, and you’ll get a small bag of rice, another with curry in it, and maybe a third with various condiments. They have a great way of tying the bags with an elastic so they are full of air and securely fastened, and yet easy to open. I tried and tried to emulate their bag-tying prowess, but to no avail.

It was when I saw people getting drinks to go – also in plastic bags – that I realized fast food is an art form in Asia.

I guess it is a good thing – plastic in general isn’t good, but a few plastic bags is less wasteful and harmful for the environment than hard plastic cups, or Styrofoam.

Food Court

While in Chiang Mai, we had one of the best food court experiences of all time. In a temple courtyard on the night of a weekly local market, dozens of street food stalls set up along the perimeter of the square. In the middle were some beautiful thick richly-coloured wooden picnic tables and benches. And typical of so many public eating establishments in Thailand, we found it to be impeccably clean.

What capped off the experience and made it memorable for us was the accompaniment: monks chanting. The hum and low lull of their voices in unison provided all the ambiance we needed for an incredible experience.

Mongolian Grill?

One night in search of a new set of street food stalls, we passed by what appeared to be a Mongolian Grill. We had dined at such establishments many times back home in Toronto; a large round grill occupies the middle of your table, and you are brought trays of various meats, fish, and vegetables to cook up and dip in a variety of delicious sauces.

“Sweet”! We said, as we excitedly took our places at a table. What fun this will be.

When we looked around at the other customers, we were pleased to discover that the place was not only packed (a good sign), but we were the only white people there (also a good sign).

The server spoke absolutely no English (this evening was full of good signs), so she basically brought us the standard fare for this restaurant. We immediately recognized the little plastic trays as they were brought to our table. Via sign language the server asked if we knew what we were doing, to which we casually indicated that we were old pros at this form of dining. She filled the perimeter of the grill with water (our first sign that maybe we were in over our heads), and walked away with what in retrospect I can only imagine was a slight smirk.

Still sure we knew what we were doing, but wanting to confirm our knowledge, we stole glances at the couples and families enjoying their meals near to us. Lettuce and fish went into the water (which was now boiling), and the meat went on the grill.

“Okay, this is no problem. It’s a little different, but still a Mongolian Grill, just as we thought,” we said with a sigh of relief.

Then, we took a look at the meat in front of us. Something fatty – bacon? Something pink. Something resembling ribs. Something else shiny, something that looks like liver, and two more trays of bacon-looking meat. It appeared that instead of getting a selection of different meats, we got a selection of different parts of a pig.

It was the intestine/colon that got to me. I won’t go into specifics, but suffice it to say that from the overly chewy consistency to whatever it was that squirted out when I bit down on it, I had discovered a culinary limit. The entire time, I couldn’t get out of my head an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, where he was relegated to eating wild boar colon over a fire in the African bush. What was in my mouth could well have been something relatively innocuous; but there was no convincing me that it wasn’t pig ass.

We muscled our way through the rest of the meal, noticing that we weren’t as smoothly getting through the dinner as our neighbouring tables were. We had huge amounts of meat charred and stuck to the grill, and we certainly did not ask for seconds, like most of the other diners were so eagerly doing. They seemed to be having a gay old time of it – we seemed to want to puke.

And sadly, I don’t think I will ever look at a Mongolian grill the same way again.

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I had two days before my flight from Krabi to Bangkok. Air Asia fly for twenty five pounds, much preferable to paying twenty pounds for the shitty journey we had on the way down. Koh Lanta was not doing it for us as there was no life there so we got a ferry to Koh Phi Phi.

After getting ripped off again by the shitty tour operators in Krabi we arrived after a one and a half hour journey sat in the sun, on the roof of the boat.

Koh Phi Phi was no disappointment. The islands are breathtakingly beautiful. Stunning in fact, all your dreams of tropical islands rolled into one.

On 26th December, 2004 a tsunami hit the island. The island is isthmus in the middle with two large limestone mountains either side. The highest point of the isthmus is six feet so when the tsunami hit, huge waves came from both sides and over the middle, devastating everything in it’s path. Over 2,000 people were killed here, many of them foreigners and seventy per cent of the island’s building were destroyed.

With the help of the government, local Thais and volunteer backpackers, Koh Phi Phi has been rebuilt and you would never know the Tsunami had happened apart from the Tsunami Early Warning System and evacuation route signs the litter the island.

All the businesses and dive schools run by the survivors are back up and running and the devastation cleared.

Even with the early warning system in place it is still unnerving being somewhere where so many people died and so many locals lost part or all of their family.

Last night we went out looking for some action but due to it being Buddha day a lot of the bars were shut. We did however find a beach bar which served our purpose and ended up playing football in the sea at 2am.

Today myself, Damon and Tanya hired a long boat for the day which took up out to Phi Phi Don, an adjacent island next to the main island. This is where ‘The Beach’ with Leonardo Di Caprio was filmed. Maya Beach.

The long boat took us over some choppy waters and deposited us in a beautiful bay surrounded with high limestone cliffs where the snorkeling and the fish were very cool.

From there we had to swim to shore, walk through a cave and through some jungle and out into an instantly recognisable beach. It looked smaller than the one on the film but I guess that is just a trick of the camera.

It was lush, the water was crystal clear and warm and there were shoals of millions of small fish making the turquoise water turn black.

We spent some time swimming in the waters with the fish and headed back, arriving on the main island through very choppy water just before a storm broke. Due to it being low tide the cheery driver could only get his boat halfway into the bay so we had a ten minute walk though the shallow waters to the shore.

Absolute paradise.

Tonight there is a full moon party on the beach. I can’t have too many buckets as I have to check out at midday, get a ferry to Krabi at 2am and then a flight to Bangkok at 6.40pm.

Two more days in Thailand before home, I am going to make sure I make the most of them and want to thank Damon and Tanya for making my last day with them so cool.

Photo “Maya Bay on Koh Phi Phi Leh (2007-03-057)” by Argenberg on Flickr

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You can come to Bangkok a hundred or more times and your senses with still be hit by the sights and smells, good and bad. Bangkok is a melting pot of everything Asian you can think of from the monks walking the streets in their saffron robes to street vendors selling delicious food along the side of the road.

The humid sticky air hits you as soon as you get off the plane and you know you have just arrived in a city as unique as can be.
Yes, I was here eighteen months ago and whenever you are travelling around Asia your road will inevitably lead to Bangkok.
Myself, Elaine and Danni took the ferry from Hong Kong to Macau to catch our late afternoon flight to Bangers. Flights from Macau with Air Asia (The Easyjet of this continent) are a lot cheaper and it is only a forty five minute fast ferry trip.
Bangkok’s new Suvarnabhuni airport, despite early teething troubles due to opening prematurely, is a vast improvement on Don Muang.

Gone are the posters warning of death to drug traffickers and the intimidating grey and dingy booths where you passport is scrutinised and stamped, to be replaced with bright and airy desks under parasols complete with smiley and friendly officials.
I said my farewells to Elaine as she caught her onward flight to India. We had both decided to go our own ways and will be both the better for it after spending nearly two months, 24/7 in each other company.
Danni caught a taxi to her apartment on the outskirts of the city. She has lived here in Bangkok for two years teaching English and loves it here. I caught the 2A bus for the one hour journey to Koh San Road and booked into the D&D hostel where the Swedish girls, Stephanie and Linnea, I met on the Trans Siberian were staying.

I was lucky, I got the last room. It was big and plush with a huge bed but came in at a rather expensive 1100 Baht a night. After roughing it in Mirador and Chunking Mansions I decided I deserved a bit of luxury for a couple of nights and it was right in the thick of the action.
The first two night were spent drinking gin the make shift bucket bars by the side of the road. Buckets are of the beach variety containing ‘Very Strong Cocktail’ made with a full bottle of Samsong (Thai Whiskey), extra potent Red Bull and Coca Cola and topped up with ice. Straws are added to make them communal. They are best sipped by the side of the road with a group of your mates or anyone who is sat nearby whilst you watch the mentalness that is Koh San Road unfold as night pushes out day.

After two big nights of bucket action I fell ill. I had either picked up the bug Linnea was suffering from or I had got dehydration or a bit of both. I had a couple of days hiding in my room sweating hot and cold and panic attacks. It was very similar to how I felt in Koh Tao when I convinced myself I had caught a dose of Denge fever from the local mozzie population.
After two days of inaction and no buckets I came back from the dead and the grim reaper was no longer rattling my door handle.

I felt more fortunate when I met a Canadian guy who had just come out of the hospital that morning. The previous night was his first night of his travels. He had got straight into the bucket scene and can remember nothing about the previous night. From what he was told he crashed into a display stand in a shop, the local owner got angry and tried to extort huge amounts of Baht for broken goods from said hapless Canadian.

Allegedly a bit of pushing and shoving ensued and the police turned up and promptly hit him over the head with a baton, cutting his forehead up. He was whisked down the nick at the end of the road and locked up over night. In the morning the police were all nice and smiley and he was sent on his way after paying an 8000 Baht fine and the hire fee of an expensive bent lawyer. Of course he will never really know what happened and the lawyer was probably a friend of the police officer.

Buckets, physical abuse, outrageous prices, prison time, bent lawyers, what a start to his trip!
The next few days were spent rattling around the local area on my own and the nights with random people whose name I can’t and never will remember and Gord the Canadian I met in Hong Kong.

A couple of days ago disaster struck (as if there has not been enough disaster in this sad and sorrow filled diary). The backlight on my laptop screen died and it is only now viewable in direct sunlight (yes , that is a backwards one) so a shopping trip to Pantip Plaza was called for. I purchased myself a nice new Sony Vaio from a Lady Boy who owned the shop and it is sexy as fuck. (the Laptop not the Lady Boy).

Last night I met up with Danny and we cruised the mayhem of the local streets armed with litre bottles of Singa beer and spent the back end of the night drinking on the front terrace of a bar, watching the world go by. Tonight Danny is taking me to the seedy area to see the sex tourism in all it’s glory. I have so far avoided that area on both of my trips here but it has to be seen I guess.

Tomorrow I am off to Phon Phen, Cambodia with Danni to blow up some cars with rocket propelled grenade launchers and check out the killing fields and on the 24th, to Siem Riep to meet my old London Flatmate, Canadian Lisa, to check out Ankor Wat.

Koh San Road has been fun though after a while to gets too hectic. By day the streets are lined with shops selling DVDs, Hats, Bikinis, Sunglasses, t-shirts, watches etc etc and by night throngs of hedonistic westerners and lady boys take over to party all night to the sounds of the local Thaiboy rock bands and brain numbing, soul destroying, Hip Hop.

Some things have not changed here, a few of the same faces are still around. I drank buckets with a Thai guy who looked and dressed like Johnny Depp’s character in ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ last time I was here. He recognised me and even remembered my name.

A cute little Soi Dog I temporarily adopted and fed last time I was here was still hanging around. He didn’t recognise me as he was pre-occupied with trying to get a leg over with a scruffy local poodle. He has gone upmarket somewhat and has moved himself into the lobby of a local hotel and seems to be getting overweight from the guests feeding him.

There seems to be a lot more Lady Boys moving around in hoards, either that or I am getting better at spotting them. It is funny to sit outside a bucket bar and watch an unwitting Western boy go home with one. Part of me wants to shout ‘hey be careful there mate’, the other part of me thinks it is funny and they will find out soon enough in the morning with a Samsong clouded head and a tongue as dry as a slice of toast.

Every visit to Koh San Road is different but some things will never change. As they say here in the Land of Smiles, ‘same same but different’

Photo “Bangkok backstreet” by Ahron de Leeuw on Flickr

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