Eventually we got into a taxi with a crazy old coot (technical term) who laughed and laughed, took us over a bridge, then tapped his watch and shook his head to indicate that no, after all, he COULD NOT take us to our destination at that time of day. We just laughed, too, because it was so ludicrous! He took us OVER A RIVER out of our way and then deposited us on the side of what amounts to a freeway in the middle of back-alley Bangkok! We walked around for a while and finally found a pedestrian bridge back over the river to the side we started on.
From the bridge we could see some of the grand old houses along the river -- some are actually villa-like and palatial, and put me in mind of Venice. The river is about as dirty as the Venetian canals, too -- ew. My guess is pestilential.
While trying to figure out where we were we stumbled upon the flower market -- omg, it was gorgeous and smelled like heaven. They use tuberose to make necklaces and chains to place on altars here, and the smell is divine. Lots of roses and chrysanthemums and marigold, too, adding up to the sweetest, spiciest, freshest perfume -- and you don't often hear about streets that smell good here!
From the flower market we found our way to Kao San Road, which is a street market--heavy part of town rife with student backpackers and low-budget tourists. It's like a long shakedown street -- all kinds of crap available for inflated prices. It's the kind of place you have to see once, so we toured it. Found a bar with a big patio and had some beers while the light faded.
Flush with hops and barley we decided to stop by Saxophone, this famous Bangkokian blues club, before our appointment with friends at another nightclub called Bangkok Rocks. Saxophone was fun -- a blues band playing nothing but covers of the classics -- Crossroads, Sweet Home Alabama, One Way Out, Little Sister, Johnnie B. Good -- all the usual. The musicians are very accomplished, but one set of that is plenty, so we pushed on.
Before we left, though, I hit the loo and had my first squat toilet experience. Good thing I do yoga. Also, good thing I always travel with tissue in my pockets like an old nun -- it wasn't provided there. Instead, they have what they call "the bidet" -- don't be fooled, it's a hose. It's a vegetable sprayer, really, just like the one attached to the kitchen sink. And there are no paper towels for drying, either. I shudder to think.
Next stop was Bangkok Rocks, which is the jewel in the tinfoil crown of the beleaguered and never-really-off-the-ground Bangkok Indie Rock Scene. Thai people are not indie. They don't want to be different. They don't want to innovate and they don't want to stick out. They like to dress alike. They like to blend. They like cover bands. In fact, they LOVE cover bands -- cover bands are what there is to see and hear in Bangkok. Barry is trying to whoop up interest for his plan to start at Bowie cover band with Lady Boys as back-up singers. He thinks it's brilliant! But I digress.
Bangkok Rocks I'm afraid does not. One word: lame. It wants to be Dante's but there are a few fundamental flaws. It's white, for instance, and shiny chromed and spare. Blue lights. Bare open windows. Office building tile floor. The band we saw was abysmal -- I mean three bad chords bad. Talent show bad. Go back to the garage bad. The stage had a decent light rack but nobody knew how to use it. Not even a stage wash. Occasional strobe flashes and sometimes the green cans came on -- ???
I could stand it for only so long, which is just as well because I had given up drinking hours ago and had been feeding all my drinks to Barry, who by now was way past tipsy. We went to the kabob guy and I plied B with my kabob as well as his, and then we came home. I poured him full of water and put him to bed. He woke up fresh as an Asian daisy. Now we are eating fresh ripe mango and feeling bad for everybody who is not us right now -- miss you!
No comments:
Post a Comment