Lounging in Style

A few years ago I found myself bleary-eyed in the early morning darkness at the Koh Samui (Thailand) airport. After checking in, I trudged into one of the nicest waiting areas I had ever seen and was astounded to find free pastries and drinks. A few minutes later I was happily emailing my parents about the free blueberry juice using one of the area's computers with complimentary internet.

That was my introduction to the wonders of the Bangkok Airways lounge, a first class waiting area open to the masses.  Having used the airline for a quick hop from Bangkok to Chiang Mai the other day, I'm happy to report that the lounge is still a great reason for showing up early to the airport. (Note: both Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok and the Chiang Mai Airport have great lounges. The following describes the Bangkok lounge.)

Friendly workers greeted me at the entrance to the clean and spacious lounge and gave me the password for free wireless (a nice touch, though there were also still computers for use by those not traveling with laptops, etc.)  There were magazines and newspapers, but I was far more interested in the ample spread of food - puff pastries, a mini-sandwich, cakes, a traditional dessert wrapped in banana leaf, and even fresh popcorn - and the (non-alcoholic) drink options, including orange juice and Milo. I settled into a comfortable chair, caught up on email and contentedly grazed until it was time to head to the gate (which still had wireless access, though I don't know if all the gates do - ours was right across from the lounge).

In case the 20 yard walk from the lounge to the gate depleted our reserves, we were served a meal during the flight. Not a snack, but a meal on a flight so short it was mostly ascending and descending. A very hearty chicken sandwich (passengers can select dietary alternatives when purchasing the ticket) was accompanied by yoghurt and fresh fruit. There was also coffee and tea, all provided by pleasant flight attendants spiffily attired in newly designed uniforms.

Bangkok Airways is also notable for its excellent inflight magazine, Fah Thai (which is where I found out the uniforms were new). Naturally there are blurbs about locales the airline services, but there are also interesting general articles with excellent photography. This issue's standouts were articles on an arts organization helping children in Cambodia, some of them through a circus arts program, the tourism boom in Myanmar, and "The Plunder of Asia's Wildlife in Pictures" (a photo essay). It's easy to glean things to do, both mainstream and quirky, from Fah Thai, but clearly it's more than just sugar coated puff pieces on the region.

We had barely finished our coffee when the clouds gave way to the misty mountains of northern Thailand and we landed in Chiang Mai. I made it to the lobby of my hotel before 10am, energized (well, ok, bloated) and ready to spend a full day in a new city.

There are many easy and inexpensive options for traveling long distances in Thailand - trains, busses, ferries, mini-vans, taxis (not inexpensive for a long haul, but it might be fun to one day shock a Bangkok taxi driver with a request to go to Chiang Mai), etc. - but if time and comfort are concerns and maintaing a shoestring budget isn't, Bangkok Airways is a great choice.

Booking Tips: Make sure you check the websites of individual airlines (whether it's Bangkok Airways or Thai Airways or AirAsia, all of which I've used), as they may have much better fares than those shown on aggregator websites. For this flight, I booked a few days in advance at bangkokair.com and got a one way ticket for about $75, which I thought was quite reasonable. It's low season now; for in-country travel during the high season winter months, I'd book in advance as I'm sure flights, especially to tourist destinations like Chiang Mai and Koh Samui, fill up.

A Journey of 1000 Smiles...

Chief of security and proprietor, Bangkok cafe

Thailand easily lives up to its reputation as "the land of 1000 smiles." A tourist who smiles will most likely be warmly rewarded in kind, as I alluded to in a previous post. It'd be difficult to capture the spontaneous smiles I've received, so here's a few shots taken immediately after encountering the subjects for the first time.

Ban Pu, Khao Sam Roi Yot National Park

Vegetable vendor, Prachuap Khiri Khan

Honey vendors, Prachuap Khiri Khan

Students, Prachuap Khiri Khan

Prachuap Khiri Khan

Ok, so I'm not sure if that last guy is smiling, but he seemed happy...

It's a Tough Job, But...

Wildlife photography is demanding work. It takes research and knowledge about an animal's habits and habitat, patience and perseverance through long hours of stalking or staking out prey, and mental and physical stamina to withstand the harrowing demands of the field, which include lugging back-bending quantities of bulky equipment through often horrible conditions while waiting for what might be one fleeting opportunity to capture your subject in an aesthetically pleasing manner. What follows is the true tale of one successful mission.

It was early afternoon on a hot and humid day when I sat down to what I knew would be a delicious lunch at an open air restaurant in Khao Sam Roi Yot National Park, a few hours south of Bangkok. As I idly gazed across the creek from my thatched roof-covered picnic table, movement in the trees caught my eyes. Apparently a monkey had decided to take his lunch at the same time as I had. (photo above) Putting down my cold soda, I grabbed my camera and shot away until he finished his meal and slowly walked away down the creek bank. Before I could take a bite of my food, the retreating monkey inadvertently flushed a pair of kingfishers that had been resting out of sight in a bush. I again picked up my trusty Nikon, then trekked the grueling 5 yards to a nearby table for a better vantage point and clicked away.

I had barely returned to my now-cooling lunch when I was disturbed by some turbulence in the creek. Upon closer investigation, it turned out the creek was home to several mudskippers. They swam, stalked prey, and ventured onto the mudflats as I filled my camera's memory card.

It began to rain as I finally finished my meal, so I headed back to my guest house, the excellent Blue Beach Resort. I stopped outside my room for a quick chat with Ricky, one of the friendly people who run the place, when a couple of green birds flew up and perched in a tree a few yards behind him. They seemed too large to be bee-eaters, a quite common species in the area, so we angled for a better look, discovering they were some sort of parrot Ricky had never seen before in all his years in the area. While he kept track of their locations, I ran the 10 yards to my camera and managed to grab a few shots before the pair flew off.

Ten minutes of incredibly dexterous internet searching yielded an identification: the pair were relatively rare Alexandrine Parakeets. What a great way to cap off a successful photographic expedition. And just in time for my afternoon nap.

Yeah, maybe sometimes it's better to be lucky than good.

Thailand By The Numbers

Trips really weren't made to be quantified, unless they're birding expeditions or the like, but just for fun, let's run the numbers so far on my latest visit to Thailand.

Days in Thailand: 2
Different 7-11s visited: 4
Different 7-11s sighted: Too numerous to keep track of
Umbrellas purchased: 3
Umbrellas lost through carelessness: 2
Rainstorms walked through when perfectly good umbrella was back in room: 1
Umbrellas deliberately left behind for housecleaning: 1

Temperature (high): 89
Bowls of soup consumed: 2

Hours spent at Weekend Market: 3
Songs by The Carpenters heard: 7
People at market: A gazillion
Past photo subjects sought: 5
Past photo subjects found: 4
Past photo subjects reacting to gift of photos with slight embarrassment: 2
Past photo subjects reacting to gift of photos with loud expressions of glee: 2

Number of times I looked the right way first before crossing the street: 1
Number of times a bus came barreling down the wrong side of the street: 1
Number of times death narrowly averted: 1

Signs written in Thai that I read and translated: 1
Days it took to translate: 2
Words in sign: 2

Photos taken by me of strangers using their phone: 3
Photos taken of me by strangers using my phone:1
Photos taken of me by strangers using their phone: 0

Bookstores visited: 3
Number of times I was mistaken by a clerk for another farang (westerner): 1
Percent discount clerk subsequently gave me: 10

Smiles exchanged with strangers: Too numerous to count.

Kuala Lumpur Photologue

I thought the beginning of Ramadan would be a good time to put up a photologue of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia from a couple of years ago. I didn't have a lot of time to explore the city before heading off to Penang, but I greatly enjoyed my few days there.

To access the photologue click here or visit my website joshlewisphotos.com and look in the photologues section.

Ramadan Kareem to all who celebrate!

Unpaid Urban Tour Guide

Grand Central Terminal, NYC

“You’re just two stops after us,” the woman semi-confidently told the group of tourists puzzling over their subway map.  Since she was consulting her own map, I figured she was a tourist too. New Yorkers don’t carry maps. We just continually squint at the in-car maps when forced to venture to the exotic lands that lie on subway lines less taken.

Maybe I shouldn’t have interfered with an adventure in the making, but my stop on our uptown-bound train was still a minute away so I stepped over and asked where the group was trying to go.

“Soho,” came the response as we pulled into Union Square. I grimaced and barked, “Come with me if you want to live!”

Actually, I didn’t say that, though in retrospect it would have been funny, at least to me. Instead, as the brakes squealed I quickly explained that they had missed their stop when our train had unexpectedly gone express and skipped a few stations. At my urging the group followed me out of the train. In short order I led them past potentially confusing signage to the appropriate platform and then headed out alone into the sunny spring afternoon.

Brief detours into nonprofit urban tour guiding like these always make me think back to an overheard comment a few years back in another capital city (whaddaya mean NYC isn't the capital?).  I can’t remember the speaker’s name, but I remember his voice or at least the way he talked. He was kind of rough around the edges, with an authentic New Yawk accent – not the type of guy I was expecting to encounter at Kap’s Place, a guesthouse in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. But there he was along with the rest of us – either planning an adventure within the country or wistfully waiting for the flight home the next day. 

The woman at the desk at Kap’s had been amazingly friendly and efficient in handling multiple questions from guests, especially about finding our way around the poorly marked streets of the somewhat sketchy neighborhood. Unfortunately, she had gone off duty minutes earlier, replaced by someone who proved far less prepared to deal with information-seekers. When the New Yorker cheerfully asked for directions to the nearest bus stop, her response was far too vague for the neighborhood. He politely asked for clarification on his map, but all he received was a sullen look.

It was pretty surprising, especially given how helpful the earlier clerk had been and how service-oriented Kap’s Place was (this was a few years ago and I’d certainly stay there again – the experience was overwhelmingly positive). New York took it in stride though. He just ruefully smiled and told her, “You know, if you were in my city, I’d walk you to the stop myself.”

I don’t know if the clerk understood him enough to be appropriately chastened, but I’ve never forgotten his words or the calm, matter-of-fact manner in which he delivered them. I have no doubt that New York meant what he said (and that he realized that the clerk was probably just having a bad night), though I doubt that he would have expected his words to be so memorable.

It’s not like the incident made me repent the error of my ways; I hadn’t previously been stiff-arming beseeching tourists out of my path, even on the few occasions I had made the mistake of attempting to maintain a reasonable walking pace through Times Square. But it did make me think twice about striding past people who look lost, and about the advice I give them. I’m a lot more likely now to take the time to lead people, usually tourists but not always, to their destinations if they appear to need the extra guidance. Sure the detours have on occasion cost me a missed train connection or the opportunity to grab a bite to eat, but they’ve never failed to make me smile and think to myself in my best New York accent, “Hey, you’d do the same if it was your city.”

Communication Without Connection

Grilled squid at a night market

I’m a sucker for almost anything grilled, so walking down the street in Thailand can be a pleasantly laborious process. In certain areas it’s impossible to move more than a few feet without encountering a vendor grilling some type of delicacy. And if it’s not being grilled, it’s being fried, and I have no problems with that.

Identifying the object of the grilling or frying can, however, be problematic. The first pork wonton I blithely bit into turned out to be, well, not pork. It might have been a batter-coated egg of some sort. At least that’s what it felt like. Sort of. I’m still not sure what it was and I’m not sure I really want to know.

That was on my first trip to Thailand. Now, having made the effort to master the language, I can confidently point to an enticing item, ask, “Ni arai?” (what’s this?), and then try to maintain my air of nonchalant self-assurance as the answer inevitably eludes my rather limited Thai vocabulary. But it’s still enjoyable to pass an extra few minutes trying to communicate with a patiently smiling vendor. Occasionally my transactions turn into spectator sport, as happened when I was “rescued” by an English-speaking Thai passerby in a small town where I was one of only four foreigners (I counted). Seeing my attempts to purchase a snack, he crossed the street to helpfully identify the vendor’s offering as grilled bananas and translate the transaction.  

Wyatt surrounded by Angkor Wat vendors

Lest you think I’m a complete idiot, I was perfectly capable of making that last diagnosis, especially having already reconnoitered the food stand to confirm that it featured my favorite snack. I didn’t need the intervention of the gustatory good Samaritan. However, his participation helped transform a simple purchase into an entertaining event shared by the small crowd of appreciative fans of foreign diplomacy who observed our conversation. I left with a bag of delicious bananas and that ineffable high that comes from a normally mundane experience unexpectedly transforming into something memorable.  

And now Google and other nefarious purveyors of communication technology want to take that away.

The other day I caught the tail end of a radio news story about a phone application that translates a user’s spoken words in one language into another language that is then “spoken” aloud by the phone. The radio commentator enthused about the communication possibilities of this Google app for Android phones and the author of the linked article calls it “crucial” for travelers, but that seems a tad extreme.

Even monkeys prefer smart phones

Ok, I’ll admit it’s a cool, useful application that will probably be invaluable in some venues and situations. I just don’t think regular travel (as opposed to, say, doing medical work in a remote area) is one of them. The device reminds me of the babel fish, the ultimate translating device for intergalactic travelers featured in the late Douglas Adams’s satirical and whimsical Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series. Simply place this (thankfully) small fish in your ear and you’re able to understand whatever language is being spoken to you. Sounds great (aside from the ear invasion aspect), but I think that sometimes I’m better off not being able to communicate clearly with others. I’m not even referring to all the banality we avoid when we don’t share a common language with those around us. I’m thinking about all the experiences I’d miss out on if I used the translation device.

I’m sure even Adams, a devout technophile, wouldn’t have opted for one of his fictitious fish when he