After a late night at Rice Bar, I was glad that I didn’t have to be at the Aberdeen Marina Club until 10:30 on Sunday morning.  Chris’ company (as with most law firms in Hong Kong) has a junk that employees can make use of as a perk.  Since Chris and Tehlin were going to have several visitors in town this weekend, they reserved the boat and arranged a day trip for us.

Now when I say “junk” you’re probably picturing something like this photo.  A classic Chinese sailing vessel with colourful sails and a family a gnarled-face sea gypsies trading silk, opium, and spices.  Needless to say, that’s a hackneyed stereotype that is best perpetuated by the Hong Kong Tourism Authority. 

Our junk was a much more modern boat, able to seat a few dozen comfortably and perfectly sized for our group of ten or so.  Here’s a photo of a boat similar to ours, that passed us in the harbour.

Instead of cruising around Hong Kong Island, which would have provided a fine view of the skyline but rather a shortage of opportunities to safely swim in the water, we headed east about two hours to along the New Territories’ islands and peninsulas until we reached an inlet near Sai Kung.  We were still in the Hong Kong S.A.R. but were so close to China that our mobile telephones were showing that we had picked up reception on a Chinese network.

The seas were pretty rough as we traveled, especially for the first half of the trip where we were in open waters.  At least a few of our group were a paler shade of green but nobody became ill, thankfully.

When we finally arrived at this particular inlet, we found a nice beach, clean waters, and rugged hills.  We docked for about two hours and about two-thirds of the group went for a swim while the rest of us stayed on the boat.  The original plan was to grill kebabs, which I had spent a few hours assembling on Saturday.  But someone forgot to check if the boat had a grill and, as luck would have it, they don’t.  In fact, the only solution that we had was to remove everything from the skewers and stir-fry it in a large stock pot.

Thankfully, the husband and wife who operate the boat were very helpful and cooked everything up for us. 

After a few hours we headed back home, arriving back about 5:30 in the afternoon, completely exhausted!  Nonetheless, it was a really cool way to see a side of Hong Kong that I think most tourists completely miss.

Here’s a 5.2 mb movie clip with narration that captures the experience.  Take some Dramamine first!

Sunday evening I met up with Big Michael.  Big Michael, who is actually quite skinny, is so named because I met him through Stephanie.  They worked together as managers opening the one AMC Theatre in Hong Kong, where there were two Michaels: Big Michael was the elder of the two, thus the name.

Michael left AMC shortly before I arrived in Hong Kong to begin preparations for the theatre’s opening, so we weren’t introduced until a year later when I was in town during January 2000.

My resource for good local food in Hong Kong, Michael took me to a tasty Shanghainese restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon.  I just love steamed pork dumplings with vinegar sauce. 

After the gorgeous dinner(s!) on Friday evening, I was glad that Saturday was a lower-key day.  Various errands were run in the morning and then I headed to the Renaissance Harbour View Hotel in Wan Chai to check in.  Because Chris and Tehlin had already committed their guest room to a couple who was visiting from Australia (whom I had also met at their wedding) for Saturday night, I cashed in some Marriott Rewards points for a room at this nice hotel, located just behind the convention center.

Chris and Tehlin had arranged for another dinner, this one at JJ’s, a former steakhouse that had become a Thai restaurant.  While still looking very much like its former self, the restaurant, which is located in the Hyatt hotel just next door to the Renaissance, serves very nice and pricey Thai food.  I think I was brought in as the defacto expert on Thai food – a mantle I do not claim – to help guide menu selection.

The restaurant itself is very nice.  Flawlessly attentive staff took care of us and we had secured a private dining room for our party of eight.  This was nice as Sam was able to wander around without disrupting other diners, although he made a break for the door once or twice and was herded back by staff members posted discretely outside.

The cuisine could best be described as palace cooking (I’m not making this up, by the way), some of the more refined dishes in the Thai cuisine canon, in addition to some of the more expected “commoner” dishes such as som tum (green papaya salad).  Portions were small, necessitating double orders of some things so that everyone could have a taste. 

While it was really tasty, well-prepared and with the best quality ingredients, there is a part of me that thinks, “okay, why are we paying this much for Thai food?”  One of the benefits of living here is that you can get really, really tasty Thai food for a much more reasonable price.  But then, the experience and atmosphere and attentive staff were part of the equation and they definitely made for a very nice evening.

After dinner I headed out to meet up with Edward in Central.  When I lived in Hong Kong back in 1998-99, I met Edward at Club 1997 in Lan Kwai Fong just three days before my birthday.  He became a good friend and showed me around Hong Kong, taking me to interesting temples and other off-the-tourist-beaten-path attractions.  Unfortunately, his boyfriend Terry was feeling a bit shy so had headed home already, which was a disappointment as I was excited to meet him.  Next time, perhaps.

Edward played the perfect host, and since I wasn’t sure where to go (how many years has it been since I’ve been out on the town in Hong Kong?) he took me first to Lan Kwai Fong, then up a few blocks to Hollywood Road where the greatest concentration of gay bars is.  Nothing was looking terribly interesting, with LKF packed on the lower blocks with overcrowded straight bars and nothing yet was happening along Hollywood Road.  So he suggested we walk over to Sheung Wan and visit Rice Bar.

Along the way, I think I spotted Ben Chan with whom Tawn worked at the Asian Pacific Islander Wellness Center in San Francisco.  I know that Ben moved to Hong Kong several months ago, but am not sure if it was him.  He was a block down the street, walking in the opposite direction with two gweilo.  Since I wasn’t sure it was him and didn’t feel like hollering out on a crowded street, I just let him continue walking.

Rice Bar is in a quiet section of Sheung Wan that Edward tells me “they” (unsure who they are) are trying to make into a bit of a gay district.  So far, Rice Bar is the only thing there, as all the regular businesses and shops were closed for several hours already.  Rice Bar is notable first and foremost because it is one of the few non-smoking bars in Hong Kong.  The space is small but nicely appointed with lots of mirrors and fashionable lighting.

The bar itself is square in the middle of the room, covered (beneath a glass countertop) with rice – thus the name.  At least on Saturday nights, there is an offer where you can get free well drinks if you are shirtless.  Only a few customers had taken up this offer, but the four bartenders were all participating, I’m sure encouraging the crowd to linger.

While Rice Bar is known primarily as a “sticky” bar (from the term “sticky rice” which refers to Asians who are attracted to other Asians, as opposed to “rice and potato” couples), there was actually a nice mixture of people including several mixed couples and a few lesbians.  Edward and I settled in and were catching up, watching the crowd, and enjoying the scene.

As I’m sitting there looking around, I notice that someone has walked in the front door who looks a lot like… could it be? … Corey from San Francisco.  Sure enough, Corey, the former director of the SF Int’l Asian American Film Festival and now an independent film producer, was with a group of people and heading slowly through the crowd.

Figuring that the tide of people would circulate him past me, I just waited patiently.  Sure enough, a few minutes later he comes up to the bar, turns to order, looks at me and does a double-take.  It was precious.  So it turns out that he’s in town on business and will be around for a few days.  Introductions, chit-chat, etc.

A few minutes later, another familiar person steps up to the bar on my left.  I turn and look and there’s Tim, the symphony director with whom I had dinner just last night.  So I say hello and we chat for a few minutes. 

Add to that Edward’s running into one of his colleagues, and the evening was just chock full of crossed paths.  Which actually makes one wonder just how large (or small) the world is, after all.

As the evening wore on and Edward decided to return home to his boyfriend, I ended up speaking with a pair of friends who were in town from Kuala Lumpur, one Malaysian and the other Singaporean.  They travel to Bangkok frequently and one, Richard, is actually going to be here in July, so we exchanged email addresses.  Tawn and I have talked about visiting KL and it would be nice to have more people who can shed some light on the local scene, where to go, where to eat, etc.

“But wait!” you exclaim, “Isn’t talking to strangers dangerous?  What about your husband?!”

I’ve discovered that there is a very effective litmus test to determine the intentions of other gay men who start chatting with you (and I suppose there is a straight corollary to this, too): I simply mention early in the conversation that I have a husband already.

This is an easy subject to introduce as one of the first questions people ask is, “where are you from?” to which I respond, “Bangkok.”  Which leads to the inevitable, “what are you doing in Bangkok?” which then very neatly arrives at, “I moved there for my husband of six-plus years to whom I’m dearly committed and wouldn’t leave for you no matter what you’re hoping.”  Of course, I don’t usually need to be quite so explicit!  They get the point.

So from there, if they drift away rather quickly, it is apparent where their intentions lie.  If they are still interested in continuing the conversation, all pretense and potential misunderstanding has been cleared away.

As the Rice Bar crowd began to dwindle I decided it was time to call it a night: I had an early day or saililng on Sunday.  So I said goodby to my acquaintences from KL, made plans with Corey to meet for drinks on Monday and then caught a cab back to the hotel, thankful for the inexpensive and plentiful taxis in Hong Kong.

This trip to Hong Kong has been a very exciting one, to say the least.  My trip over was uneventful, getting to Chris and Tehlin’s place in South Horizons (near Aberdeen in the southwestern part of HK island) was pretty easy, and while it was a bit aways from the heart of the action I found transportation in and out of their ocean-front condominium to be easy.

The entire Bel Air Residences faces the ocean and there is a steady stream of ships of all shapes and sizes visible from the balcony.  This is of great enjoyment for their two-year-old son Sam, who is fascinated by transportation of all kinds.  He knows ships, he knows planes, he knows busses.  And this weekend he was very big on taking the red taxi.  “Red taxi?  Red taxi?” he kept asking as we were waiting for the bus.  “No,” his mother replied, “we’re taxing the bus.”  When the bus arrived, Sam said in a voice filled with awe, “biig bus.”

Right: Sam enjoys playing on his balcony where he can watch ships go past and busses and taxis go by on the driveway below.

As with every trip I take, food seems to take center stage.  Friday night found me double-booked for dinner, first at eight o’clock with Chris and Tehlin and another couple whom I had met at their wedding.  Chris made reservations at Peking Garden, a fancy Beijing-style restaurant in Alexandra House, in Central.

The elegant atmosphere complemented the food, which included shrimps in sweet and spicy garlic and shallot chili sauce and a Peking style roast duck with pancakes.  Careful not to eat too much, I limited myself to just a few bites of each dish.

Not finishing until 9:30, I had a quick walk to the MTR and rode two stops under the harbour to Tsim Sha Tsui to meet Dr. Chris and his partner Antony at Aqua.  (I’ll refer to him as “Dr. Chris” just to avoid any confusion with my own name or the name of Tehlin’s husband.)  Aqua is one of the more celebrated places to dine in HK, based on the reviews I read, a Japanese-Italian fusion restaurant that fuses innovative cuisine with a stunning location.

Two blocks away at the corner of Peking Road and Kowloon Park Drive is the recently constructed One Peking building, the latest in a series of buildings that is pushing the TST skyline ever higher.  The entrance was up a nondescript pair of elevators, past a lone security guard, and into a high-speed elevator to the 28^th floor. 

Stepping out of the elevator, you enter a small but elegantly modern room that has a maitre d’hôtel at her podium.  There appears to be no doors exiting the room other than the elevator door through which you entered.

The response I received upon saying the party I was meeting was a bit curious.  The maitre d’ responded, “Oh, you’re with Chris’ party,” in a way that led me to believe that she knew Dr. Chris personally.  Choosing between waiting at the table and the bar, I opted for the bar, and a hostess was instructed to take me to the bar, being told again that I was “with Chris’ party.”

There is another person in this entry room, a lady who is standing in front of a waist-high metal post.  At first appearance she is doing nothing by standing there greeting people.  But when the hostess turns to take you to the bar or to the restaurant, a door reveals itself in the otherwise apparently solid walls, sliding open on the command of the woman at the post like something in Star Trek. 

There are lots of “watch your step, please” moments as there are water features you step across and small flights of steps here and there.  Definite trip hazards.  Up several of those flights is the bar, up on the 29^th and top floor of the building.  It is dark and elegant with small cocktail tables, a mirrored bar, and a DJ at the end of the bar spinning Buddha-bar like grooves.  The bar was also quite crowded with fashionable locals and expats and I began to conclude that Dr. Chris must have some connection at the restaurant when the hostess went to great lengths to create a space for me at the bar.

Enjoying a lychee belini, I took in the view of Hong Kong Island.  The bar overlooks the restaurant, resulting in a two-story glass wall that commands perhaps the best view of the Island and the neon-esque luminescence of glass and steel and light and color against the mountains and clouds and water that is Hong Kong’s signature appearance.

While enjoying the drink and the view, one of the restaurant managers came over and confirmed that I was “with Chris’ party.”  The frequency with which this was being said was making me wonder whether I had not been let in on some elaborate practical joke.  Where’s Alan Funt?

The Party Arrives

The hostess returned about fifteen minutes later and told me two other guests had arrived and asked whether I would like to be seated with them.  While I had not met Antony, Dr. Chris’ partner, before I immediately recognized him just by virtue of knowing Dr. Chris’ taste in men!  A tall, handsome Australian with a shaved head and eyes that contain a perpetual twinkle of good humor, it was a pleasure to finally meet him. 

Antony was joined by Debbie, a fifty-something lady with eighteen years living in Hong Kong who is now the director of the Australian Chamber of Commerce.   He and Debbie had attended the HK Philharmonic Symphony’s performance that evening so it made perfect sense when, as Dr. Chris arrived a few moments later, Antony announced that they had invited a fifth person, the executive director of the symphony, to join us.  Tim, who arrived just a few minutes later, was a tall, thin, goateed Australian who has been at the symphony for just a year now.

As you can imagine, it was an interesting dinner with conversations about things that are within my tastes (travel, music, food) but perhaps still a bit out of my budget in terms of frequency and opulence!

The restaurant manager came over and said hello, obviously familiar with Dr. Chris and Antony, and the chef soon made his appearance as well.  Handshakes and introductions all around, then he asked us what we were in the mood for and Antony, taking the lead, suggested just a variety of things starting with some sort of an appetizer and perhaps a seafood and a meat dish.  The chef promised to prepare some wonderful treats for us and headed to the kitchen with a smile on his face.  This just further fueled my curiosity about which of these people Dr. Chris knew so well.

The curiosity was answered shortly when a sharply-dressed man who was nearly a spitting image of Dr. Chris came walking up, said hello, and was introduced as David who I quickly learned, was not only Dr. Chris’ brother but also the proprietor of the Aqua restaurant group.  That explained everything.  Such a sense of sophistication and connection – I know famous people!

The Meal Itself

The chef, Dick, worked off the menu and created four lovely courses for us followed by dessert.  With each course, he appeared alongside the waiters who delivered the food, explaining what we were about to enjoy and gauging what we would enjoy next.  The courses were (alas with no photos!):

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  Salad of tomato, mozzarella cheese and balsamic jelly served alongside a seared rosemary scallop.  The salad, an artful interpretation of the classic Caprese salad, was served in a dessert wine glass.  The ingredients were in small (1cm) cubes and instead of being dressed with the usual balsamic vinaigrette the chef had made balsamic jelly.  So as you ate it, there were little explosions of the sweet balsamic richness each time you encountered one of the jelly cubes.  Lovely.
  
  
• 
  
  The salad was followed by a dish of six raw tuna slices, lightly seared, in yuzu (a Japanese citrus fruit) mayonnaise with rocket and herbed oil.  This fatty richness of the seared tuna was countered by the tartness of the mayonnaise sauce.
  
  
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  Our third dish was a medallion of poached spiny lobster tail, wrapped in spinach leaf and served in a French sarda (type of cous cous-like pasta), lobster and moscato emulsion.  It had the sweet richness of a light curry sauce and complemented the fresh, clean flavor of the lobster.
  
  
• 
  
  Getting full as it was late (and I had eaten a previous meal) our tasting menu thankfully concluded with a single Parmesan crumbed lamb rib chop with a compote of Sicilian laponata (type of eggplant), pine nuts and raisins, served with a Alacia lemon honey glaze.

The food was really tasty with lots of interesting flavor combinations.  I was pleasantly surprised to find the 2003 Ridge Vineyards Lytton Springs Zinfandel blend on the wine list, a particular wine that I’ve enjoyed every time I find it.  It paired perfectly with our meal and I remarked at how ironic it is that while this wine is made in the Santa Cruz Mountains, just a twenty minute drive from my childhood home, I’ve mostly found this wine in far-spread places like London (where I was introduced to it by a wine merchant ex of one of Tawn’s friends), Salt Lake City, and Hong Kong.

For dessert, a large platter arrived containing an assortment of all the treats offered by the restaurant.  This one was so spectacular, with the arrangement of roses with a tea candle in the center, that I had to break out the camera to capture it.  Unfortunately, I will be unable to do justice to the amazing flavors that were on the tray.  These included fried mango springrolls, chocolate crème brulée with green tea ice cream, tiramisu, mandarin orange panna cotta, a molten chocolate cake, and the piece de resistance served in the martini glass: diced hearts of palm in a Japanese plum gelatin topped with gold leaf.

Just as the evening was coming to an end, the bill was settled (undoubtedly at a nicely discounted price – thanks David!) when the waiter stopped by with five champagne flutes and opened a bottle of Moet & Chandon Brut Imperial Rose Champagne.  What a plesant way to end the meal.

It was about 12:30 so everyone headed their separate ways.  I caught a cab back to the other side of the harbour, which requires a bit of insider knowledge and a special hand gesture as when the hour gets late the taxi drivers are hesitant to venture across the harbour because they are uncertain to get a fare for the return.  More about that some other time, though.

Lots more to add about the rest of the weekend but it is late.  More upon my return to Bangkok.

It is 1:38 am in Hong Kong and too late to go into all the details so I’ll add them tomorrow.  But this evening I managed to get double booked and had two dinners, one at 7 and another at 10.

Both were really nice dinner, the second turning out to be downright spectacular at a popular restaurant called Aqua, a Japanese/Italian fusion restaurant on the 29th floor of the 1 Peking Road Building in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon.  It has an amazing view of the  HK Island skyline. Their website is in Macromedia Flash so I can download and post a picture (or at least, I don’t know how to) but if you visit the website you’ll get an idea of how incredibly chic and cool the place looks.

I won’t spoil it all now and will add more incredible detail in the morning.

With Tawn now in Italy with his parents, I’ve headed off for a long weekend in Hong Kong  visiting friends.  Tawn set up his phone for international roaming and decided that SMS was the least expensive way to keep in touch.  So upon his arrival in Dubai, where his Emirates flights connect, he sends a message that reads

Arrived in Dubai.  Nice airport but flight was not so good because of seatmate.

No word on whether he was sitting with his parents.

This trip and the planning for it have been full of many funny occurrences.  Talking with Tod over a cup of coffee yesterday, I sketched out my idea for a screenplay based almost entirely on the premise of a gay Thai only son going to Italy with his parents.  Think “The Wedding Banquet” meets “Planes, Trains and Automobiles”.

For my trip to Hong Kong I actually made it a point to arrive at the airport about 3 1/2 hours before departure.  I’m tired of rushing through the airport, hurried and not enjoying the travel experience.  So today I had time for a one-hour foot massage, taking lots of pictures of aiplanes, and snacking in the THAI Airways lounge.

Things are so convenient in Hong Kong.  Short line at the immigration and cleared immediately.  No checked baggage so proceeded right through customs.  Quick stop at the bookstore in the terminal to buy a prepaid SIM card for my phone.  Cashier puts the card in for me and sets it up, taking less than three minutes total.  Stop by the MRT desk and get my three day Octopus card and I’m on my way, as if I never left Hong Kong.  (Background: I lived there in 1998-1999)

Perhaps we’re a bit behind the times here in Thailand.  This weekend, Tod and I (Tawn was at his parents’ hosue) caught a film that was part of the first New Zealand Film Festival.  The film, “The World’s Fastest Indian” was a bit of a surprise to me.  I hadn’t heard of it before and it appears that it opened in the US in February and enjoyed a modestly successful run. 

Who knows, perhaps all of you in the States have already watched this film and nobody bothered to mention it to me.

Anyhow, this true story is set in 1962 New Zealand.  Burt Munro, a quirky pensioner with a penchant for speed, takes a 1920 Indian motorcycle and without resources other than his own obsession and a Kiwi mentality, spends his retirement rebuilding the bike and following his dream to go to Speed Week at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. 

He is under-funded, without the support of a team and faces incredible odds.  Along the way from New Zealand to Utah Burt is helped by an incredible collection of people: his next-door neighbor’s son who believes in Burt even as his parents don’t, a local Kiwi motorcycle gang who beat him in a race along the beach, two initially-perplexed American immigration officials, a drag queen motel clerk in Hollywood, a Salvadoran used car dealer, a Native American elder, and a welding torch wielding widow. 

Won over by Burt’s determination, humility, and sincerity, they all contribute to his journey and not only does he make it to Bonneville, he sets a national land speed record, not once, but again and again.

The film is magnificent: the story is compelling and well-written; the acting is top-rate; the cinemaphotography is skilled.  Tod and I agreed that it was one of the most enjoyable films we’ve seen in a long while.  Best of all, it is an inspiring story about following your passions and overcoming obstacles with perserverence and a willingness to make sacrafices.

If you didn’t get a chance to see it, add it to your Netflix list.  Totally suitable for all ages above, say, ten.

So about two months ago Tawn and I decided to take advantage of a promotion offered by his American Express card: we could arrange to use the card for automatic bill paymet of our home telephone and DSL service, our mobile phone service, and a few other companies.  In exchange, we received some sort of fantastic deal.  I can’t remember the details of the deal, but perhaps it was a percent or two off the bill?

It seemed like a fantastic idea: fewer payments to make each month and greater oversight of expenses.  Until our home phone and DSL was turned off because of non-payment.  Unlike utility companies in the US, you don’t get a second warning or any sort of a notice.  You just wake up to find your DSL dead and a recording on your phone saying, in Thai and English, to please contact your telephone service provider.  Of course, you can’t very well use your home phone to contact them.

The first opportunity we had to get down to the enormous Telephone of Thailand (TOT) headquarters on Sukhumvit was first thing Saturday morning.  The bill payment office is in Building 1, which is at the back of this huge complex, quite literally a 5-minute walk back from the street.  Thankfully the payment center was well air conditioned and in just a few minutes, after confirming that we were indeed signed up for the American Express automatic bill payment plan (beginning with the next bill, of course), our debts were paid and we were promised that our service would be restored the same day.

Interestingly, although TOT doesn’t give any additional warnings or notices like a utility in the US would, TOT also didn’t charge any sort of penalty or reconnection fee, which I would expect from a utility in the US.

So on Sunday morning I once again find myself with DSL.

Sunday morning.  While the rain clouds gather outside and I talk on Skype to my mother, Tawn reads a guidebook in preparation for his upcoming trip to Italy with his parents.  Not in the picture: a large-sized Starbucks San Francisco city mug with cafe au lait topped with a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Actually, the interesting thing with this photo is that Tawn got these glasses when we lived in San Jose, but I’ve never seen him wear them.  Then this morning while settling down to read the book, he pulled them out, polished the lenses and put them on.  When I commented, he claims that he wears them all the time at the office when he is working on the computer.  I didn’t know.  But doesn’t he look sharp in glasses?

This turns out to be one of the most spectacularly relaxing, low key Sundays since I moved here.

After finishing talking with my Mom and messaging with Big Michael in Hong Kong and Tod, Tawn and I watched “Red Doors”, director Georgia Lee’s story of a Chinese American family splintering as the patriarch retires, ponders various methods of suicide, and finally runs away to a monastery. 

His three daughters, a high schooler passive-aggressively tormenting a fellow student with dangerous pranks to show her affection; a medical student who falls for a female movie star who is spending time at her hospital to research an upcoming part; and a over-worked hyper-ambitious thirty something who is torn between her fiancee and an ex-boyfriend who reminds her of the artistic passions she set aside in order to meet her parents’ expectations of a “good” career.

The movie’s characters are complex and realistic and the story and story-telling are reminiscent of “Eat, Drink, Man, Woman,” one of director Ang Lee’s earlier films.

A more thorough review is here on the SF Int’l Asian American Film Festival website.  The movie’s official website lists information about its release schedule: it was picked up by a distributor and will open in New York on September 8th.  It is an enjoyable, well-writen and well-made film and is worth catching.

After the movie we headed out to Soi Thong Lor (also known as Sukhumvit 55) and stopped for roasted duck and barbeque pork over rice with wonton soup.  Very casual and tasty.  Then we bought khaw nieaw mamuang (sticky rice and mango) and went to one of the three Starbucks on Thong Lor. 

We spent the next two hours reading (Tawn, his Rick Steves’ Italy guide book and me, the May 8th New Yorker magazine) and studying Thai.  Slowly, slowly, slowly I see signs of progress.  Well, maybe one sign… or two.

Afterwards we headed to the grocery store and then home where I prepared a light dinner of a tossed green salad with pulled rotisserie chicken, boiled egg and tomato.  Yummy.  Tawn went over to his parents’ to finalize some plans for their trip and I went for a leg massage at our corner massage parlour. 

What a relaxing Sunday.

In my previous post I mentioned that our street, Soi Asoke, had flooded for the first time this year and proclaimed that rainy season had arrived.  Today my proclamation was confirmed.

Like many great things in nature, this one proceeded in incremental steps, lulling you into a false sense of security that there was still time before anything really happened.

As early as seven o’clock this morning, the signs were there.  On my way to school, I noticed that the air was a bit cooler than it had been over the past few mornings and there was a breeze in the air.  The air was humid and the sky very overcast, different than it had been as of late.  But the clouds were only a light grey, nothing dark and brooding, no signs of immediate threat.

Throughout the morning, depending upon what window I looked out of, the view told me a different story: South, getting darker and gloomier; East, it looked as though it was already raining – but on closer inspection, the windows have tinting on them; North, I could see bright sunlight shining on the neighborhoods near Soi Ari.

At noontime, walking out of class, the temperatures remained moderate and the air was so humid that I felt like I would drown if I breathed in too deeply.  And while the clouds were darker, they still did not have that threatening, thunderstorm quality that I associate with Summer afternoon storms in the Midwest.  Still, no rain.

All afternoon, looking up from my computer, still a smooth dark overcast and still no rain.

Then, about five-thirty I looked out.  It was still light, but all of the buildings more than a block away from me were lost in the thick haze.  If it had been San Francisco, I would have thought it was fog.  As I stepped outside, I realized the rain had arrived.  Solid, steady, warm, thick drops of rain.  In the pool at the neighboring condo, a young lady continued swimming, the rain having no effect on her.

Within the hour, Soi Asoke was flooded.  I did not realize how bad it would be and, grabbing a large umbrella, headed downstairs to meet Tawn for dinner.  The water along the curb was more than 20cm (about 9 inches) deep.  I kept to the high ground along the store fronts, taking care to avoid sliding on the slippery tiles.

Less than a block away, were soi 21/1 enters into Asoke, I reached the shore of my island.  The water was closer to 30cm deep, the sidewalk were under water, and the passing vehicles were kicking up wakes that a squirrel could waterski on.

Turning around, I headed back to the higher ground on my island – my apartment – and called Tawn to tell him I would not be joining him.

Oddly, once I returned home the rain began to lessen but the thunder and lightening commenced.  For about twenty minutes we had a very intense light and sound display, nature’s version of “shock and awe”.  No power outages, thankfully.

In other, drier news, I went to the General Post Office a few days ago.  While there is a branch located over on soi 23, by the gelato shop, they don’t have a very wide selection of stamps.  Especially for my nieces, whom I write regularly, I’m trying to provide a wide variety of stamps.  Thailand hasn’t gone to self-adhesive stamps yet and produces some very colourful stamps, many of which are inspired by Buddhist art.  Here are some examples.

Thanon Asoke flooded today for the first time since November.  I hereby proclaim rainy season officially arrived.

Luckily I was not in Khrungthep to experience this.  Instead I was 70 km away in Ratchaburi province along the banks of the Mae Klong River on a full-day bicycle tour with Spice Roads.  As nobody I know here seems willing to ride a bike in Thailand (and I want to point out that the fear of the heat just hasn’t played out on either of my trips – it is a lot cooler on a bicycle than it is hanging out in the city), I was on my own, tagging onto a trip arranged for four German tourists.

More accurately, one of the fellow riders is a German expat who is working in Thailand for BMW.  I spoke briefly with his American-born wife while we waited at their condominium.  While she did not join the ride, she told me that they had gone on other trips with Spice Roads.  After a brief wait her husband (the expat), his seventy-year-old mother, and a French-German couple who were visiting them joined us in the van.  All were fit and except for the mother, able to speak English fluently.

My high school German classes came in handy as I was able to converse a little with the mother and was able to follow bits and pieces of the mostly-German conversation.  Danke, Herr McHan!

Traffic was light thanks to the three-day weekend and in less than ninety minutes we had arrived in Damnoensaduak, home of the nearest major floating market.  To say that it is a tourist trap is an under-statement.  In fact, arriving at about 8:15-8:30 any locals who had shopped were already back at home, replaced by bus- and vanloads of tourists.

We didn’t spend very long at the market, maybe thirty minutes.  There are a number of halls and areas adjacent to the khlong – canals – where you can buy food, clothes, and souvenirs without having to hire a boat.  There are also several thoughtful scenic viewpoints built out over the water to enable the easier photographing of the market.  Left: A family of tourists in matching blue hats.

Our group bought some phonlamaay – fruits – and sampled them all.  I purchased some khanom khrung, the small half-moon rice flour pancakes that some of you may recall from the Thai Buddhist temple in Berkeley.

After this we walked across the street to another khlong and found ourselves in a much quieter area with only a few tourists who had wandered away from the main market and were exploring.  It was here that a lazy Damnoensaduak spent its Sunday morning, sitting on porches and sala – verandas – along the khlong.  The khlong are just like any street, with electric poles and sidewalks and addresses on the houses.  Only the street is water and the cars are boats.  Above: a quiet klong on the other side of town.

We boarded a long-tail boat that had been previously arranged and took off through the khlong.  After just a few minutes of passing other long tail boats carrying tourists, we headed into a tributary and thirty minutes after that were spilled into the Mae Klang river, a wide and slow body of water not unlike the Missouri.  Left: Along the way we stopped for fuel at a khlong-side store where petrol is dispensed from a steel pitcher with the help of an oversized funnel. 

We continued past houses and wat – temples – some small and others grand.  People ran errands or sat on their porches watching life go by, swam in the water to cool off or washed clothes.

Above: Beautiful houses along the river.  The one on the right is a more traditional Burmese style house.

After an hour we turned from the Mae Klang back into a khlong leading to the town of Samut Songkhram.  This is where we disembarked, walking a block from the water to Wat Amphawan Chetiyaram, which was constructed by the princess mother Somdet Phra Amarintharamat and was the birthplace of King Phra Phutta Lertla, Rama II.  It contains beautifully-restored murals of the Buddha’s life and behind the main Buddha image is a picture of Khrunthep in the mid-1700s. 

Back at the van, our bicycles were pulled off the racks and waiting for us.  We spent a few minutes adjusting seats, slathering on sunscreen (even though the sky was mostly cloudy) and strapping on helmets.  Then we took off along one of the roads heading several kilometers to a river where we had to wait for a small ferry to take us across to Wat Bang Kae Noi.  As this is the beginning of Buddhist Lent, many temples we encountered were having special events with gatherings of locals, food, and music to celebrate the ordination of the neen, or novice monks.  Above: Orchid farm

Inside Wat Bang Kae Noi’s main chapel the walls are covered with teak wood panels engraved with the story of Buddha’s enlightenment.  Above the main Buddha image is a giant bodhi tree, carved out of teak – even the individual leaves!  It is very beautiful.

From there we cycled through coconut and banana plantations until we arrived at Wat Bang King, on the grounds of the final battle between the Thai and Burmese armies.  The main chapel has been overtaken by a huge bodhi tree and another banyan tree and over the centuries their roots have completely overwhelmed the structure such that the building itself doesn’t really exist anymore but is now within the trees.  The chapel is still in use and it is a very auspicious place for merit making.

A few more kilometers down the road through more banana, coconut and now some pomelo and lychee plantations, we stopped at the house at one plantation – just a small shack, really – and asked if we could buy a few pomelo.  The lady peeled them for us and we ate the fruit right there as her husband husked coconuts out front and the grandfather of the house lazed about on a hammock, laughing at this group of farang.

Above: Our tour group – the 70-year old German mother in the center.

Twenty minutes later we arrived at a restaurant that had a large terrace overlooking the Mae Klong, taking advantage of the cooling breezes.  Our guide ordered a variety of delicious dishes, including a fried snakefish served in a tamarind sauce.  Right: Roosters in the restaurant parking lot.

After a brief rest we resumed our ride, taking the final ten kilometers at an easy pace, stopping by one of the few Catholic churches in the area, the Church of the Virgin Mary or Asanawihan Maephrabangkerd.  It is very French Gothic in style and faces the Mae Klong river. 

There are very few churches in Thailand, Christians making up less than 1% of the population, but some of the churches are very beautiful, undoubtedly continuing the Thai tradition of building beautiful places of worship.  Even the mosques, relatively unadorned per the Koran’s instructions, still feature beautiful architecture.

In front of the church there several young models posed on a bench for a photo shoot.  The makeup artist, a khatoey, took great interest in the farang bicyclists. 

Above: What hi-so magazine will these models appear in?

At this point we were nearly back at the floating market, having ridden a complete circle.  The market was quiet, nearly all the tourists having left to return to Bangkok.  We met up with our van, cooled down as the bikes were loaded onto the racks, and then climbed in for our ride back to Bangkok.

Throughout the day I had had the opportunity to talk more with the guide, a 15-year veteran of the Royal Thai Navy, who goes biking regularly with his friends to explore Bangkok and the surrounding areas.  He invited me to join them and made some recommendations for gear.  So it looks like I’m establishing some links to the bicycling community in Bangkok.  Now all I need is a bicycle!