I will disuss what I did today (read a book, called "one night @ the call centre" by Chetan Bhagat, which was an excellent read. Very humourous, I'm sure you will enjoy it. I also started on another Chetan Bahgat book, "5 point someone", and then I bought some groceries for my hostess, and I ate some italian ice cream. Top notch stuff, and only 3 aussie for 2 big scoops? Bargain! Oh, and I'm drinking a shandy. And about to go to a train station to book a ticket) - oh look, I just did that. Ok, then, what else will happen here?
I will briefly summerise Indian Trains: Cold.
I will now, finally, finish off bangkok, and even add some photos! They are a pain to add though, but will be worth it. God, if only I could have done my thesis with photos, the word count would have been huge.
When I say Bangkok, by the way, I mean the Bangkok that I visited wa-aa-ay back in October of '06. This is early days in the round the world trip. Actually, I should probably put WHERE I've been, and where I'm going on a side bar here, huh? Now THAT'S the kind of proactive leadership that combines passion, talent, conscience and need to create the rigth voice. Yeah, I know, the 8th Habit. High Five all you converts out there!
The rest of you can wonder what I am on about.
Right. Long post here kiddies, I'm covering one action-packed day (a pretty good value-for-money tour actully) here, so strap on your seat belts and get ready to be excited!
Ok - so bangkok! Circa early October - the 5th? It's the next day after the boat ride (see post #7 - "Further Travels in Bangkok"), and it's before 6 in the morning. It's pretty hairy, waking up this early, as I've only had a few hours sleep. I learnt an important lesson the previous night though, but that's a story for another day. It's a good story though, the type of story that's sung by campfires in the states, and around thebillabong tree in Oz. The kind of story that makes a man man, not one of those she men who pluck their eyebrows and wear scarves. The kind of story that almost makes a britisher a man, y'know? I've awoken early to get to Beth's hotel in time for the tour I'd agreed to go on. I'm not feeling up to it, to be honest, but I'd hate myself if I slept in and did nothing for the rest of the day - and the tour was well worth it. But it was still tough, ok?
I struggle up, content in the knowledge that a lesson has been learned from last night, but incontent in the knowledge that I have to get dressed and ready in a short time, and then make my way to the Hotel that Beth is at to go and do this trip. There's always a bit of a worry when I get anywhere and there are no buses waiting to take me to wherever this trip is. That's exactly how I feel when I get to the hotel, and there are no tour buses, no Beth, only some disinterested hotel staff. I eventually gather the bus is running late. However, I can spend the time sitting in a comfy hotel lounge, listening to the advice of Neil.
Neil is, incidentally, the obi-wan style pick up master I met on the desert plains of totoonie. He's incorporeal, with a hue of orange about him today. He gives me the day's run down:
"The trick is, Andrew, to throw out a neg. See, a neg is when you give the woman a complement, and at the same time an insult. We're trying to unbalance women from their comfort zones - you are going to become the unattainable one here, and she has to work for your approval!
A good idea for a neg might be, let's see now - you're looking good for someone who's had to get dressed quickly in the morning! See, the casual mention of get dressed quick makes her realise that she's nicely presented, but no so good to cover up the quickly getting dressed ness. Now, pull that one off, and then we can work on talking to her about mental communication, body language and other crap that women like to discuss."
Neil has an appealing honesty about his disdain for the female mind, but I can't really appreciate it as much as I should. Still, he's my mentor, and he thinks I could be a fast learner at this stuff, so I listen. He really doesn't come out on photos though.
Beth comes down.
"Hi Beth, you are looking nice..." I stumble, can I really push out a neg? I can't... my nerves fail. And she does look nice, even by evening standards.
"Why, thank you! But that tour bus is running late, we should really check out when they're planning on getting here!"
In the back ground, Neil is miming looking for my balls. He's apparantly having some difficulty locating them, and thinks they've disappeared under a table. What I have to appreciate is how he can mime what he's looking for. He's talented like that.
So the bus arrives, and I try and work out what, exactly, I've shelled out my money to see. Some ruins - this is still early days in the trip, incidentally, and ruins are Cool. Later on, I come to the conclusion that ruins are just sloppy building and maintainance, probably blamable on unionisation and a lack of work ethic in the poor. Or was that something I read from a Liberal Party flier? I can't remember!
Our bus has, amongst the usual crew of couples (something that has put me off doing tours for the rest of the journey is the seemingly inescapable fact that single people don't seem to do them. They are all couples and families) a talkative "guide". This guy, he can kill a rock. Here's an ablib and entirely made up quote from him, which nonetheless summerises him well enough:
"1250 the city haaaad a crises, and 1252 the crises over. They plant trees in city in 1253, and by 1254 they flowers. They crises is not so good, but not know what.
We now driving on bridge build in 1757. Is good bridge, you wan picture you too late, bridge gone. You be faster with picture. But we drive near fence, is up in 1907, is first fence they put up on tha' spot, you get picture, is make good picture you send and people like."
Beth and I share a chuckle about the guide and his fascination with dates, and the fact that it is very boring. And his voice is loud, boomed over speakers throughout the air conditioned bus. Which, incidentally, you can't turn off - the air con that is. So it's cold and loud, like a drunk model, and Neil is making gestures at me as to what moves to pull next. I'm sitting working out if maybe a hand massage, or a hand around the neck, or even a compliment would work. Neil, bless his heart of gold, is making more complicated gestures, that are kinda muddled as he's incorporeal anyway, so half the time I'm just looking at the back of someone's head while his hand is doing god knows what in there. I think I'm meant to pass a ball somewhere. He gives up and goes looking for my brain after a bit (GREAT mime, let me tell you) which leaves me alone with Beth.
Summing up my herculean suaveness, I turn and say:
"God, I hate this aircon. It's totally freezing me, and I'm sleepy but I shouldn't sleep, as I've got contacts in." That's an ok starter, right? I mean, yankees like to complain, so I'm setting up a good platform!
"Yeah, I'm exhausted too - late night with the dance group. They like to party at night..." Beth is a pro dancer with a dance company that has come to dance for the Thai King's anniversary of his coronation. It's a pretty cool job, and beats the pants off "software engineer" - I'd try it myself, but I can't see people believing it. Me being an american dancer, not a software engineer.
So we settle into a leisurely, enjoyable conversation, although we do have to duck to the back of the bus (Neil applauded!) to avoid angry glares from boring types who like the history of fences and stuff.
So we get... somewhere... I can't recall where, and I take these photos i'm posting on now!
Oh, and I don't have my guidebook for thailand anymore, so I'll just make stuff up and splice it with some dates and maybe facts. It's not total rubbish, but don't take the chance in who wants to be a millionaire with this stuff, ok?
Oh, wait, before I go on about wherever we were (it was the king's holiday home, and once every year he parties there. And meets and greets. It had really nice topiary), let me just show you some snaps Wat Pho and Khao San road that I took! I know, I know, no NO ONE knows what day it is - but to try and be lucid:
the following are from the day previous to what I've been describing - they are photos that should have been added to a previous blog (post 7,
Further Travels in Bangkok"), but weren't at the time as I was lazy, and won't be now because no one will see them!
So, here is the reclining buddha or Wat Pho. And me, I'm in this too. The Buddha is always shown reclining because, at the end of the day, he was a moderately lazy chap. He also sits alot. I've never seen him running, and this is all probably to do with the whole "desire causes strife, strife leads to fear, fear leads to anger... " and if you don't know where THAT was going then shame on you.
Funny how karate and The Art of Really Hurting People started off from a religeon whose leader never did much more than relax under trees, huh? Proactive management from the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (Iron Age Edition) must have been used.
Stuff like:
"A good leader whips his people until they do stuff. And then blames local failures on the whimsicle nature of the gods, who the people haven't given enough to."
Ummm... ok, I lost myself there. Oh, wait! The reclining Buddha!
Here he is:
Next up, is a photo of me showing the locals how to cook a REAL banana pancake. Those things are like ambrosia (or a trip to the local hospi'al if you are diabetic) by the way.
I'm not sure if the woman really understood what I was doing - it was all me:
"I cook, she click-click, you ok, good?"
and the cook:
"You wan buy pan-cake? Is goo' pan-cake, is bes' in all thailan'."
and me:
"I click-click, you good-good?"
And NOW, here I am, back to describing the day's events (the one on the bus. I know, time travel makes me ill and queasy too). The whole "I'm on a bus trip with Beth and Neil and other people seeing stuff" day. I know, I know, I should make this clearer - but you're all smart people (and gentle. Remember the javascript!) so can figure it out.
The king's holiday home is a lush affair, all topiary and thai guards and buildings and lakes. So here is me and some elephants in the grounds:
*** ok, I can't upload this photo. I'll try later. Sorry! It's really just this photo though. Weird.
Ok, then we climbed up a tower and saw more nice stuff. It was really quite a "I'm in the lobby of a Hilton Hotel in Dubai" kind of experience, this king's holiday home. Oh! Here is a photo of Beth and I at the top of a tower! Beth is the one on the viewer's right.
Ok, actually this blog writing is alot easier when I can just bounce from photo to photo! Oh, and the flower in Beth's hair? TOTALLY my idea. Appiration Neil had buggered off and was helping a Kiwi pull some moves on some sheep. So I pluck some courage (and, of course, a flower) and proffer it to her. I know, I felt pretty silly doing it (all this romancin' stuff ain't easy for us guys!) - I was expecting Richard Gere himself to come out and shake his head at me. But she appreciated the gesture, and the whole point was to make her feel appreciated and lovely (not too hard) so that was all ok.
As we were leaving, we saw a Thai style changing of the guard. Honestly, the perfection shown by these guys leaves the rest of the world in their wake.
We then went up north or south to a series of ruins somewhere else. They were nice ruins, the kind that people like to see, and I had a run in with some pigeons. But other than that, well, what to say?
As to Beth - we're now discussing past relationships, and what she does in the states and so on. I'm building up to maybe some eye looking, but this is hard. She seems to be immensly preoccupied with taking photos of stuff in general. I know a bit of body language, and am constantly analysing which ways her legs point when she crosses them, arm direction etc. It's a tough game (and one I've since learnt to just completely ignore, because I have no idea about it), and the signals are mixed. The kind of mixed signals that cause airplanes to crash.
Neil (appiration mode still) is getting drunk on some appiration beers.
Anyway, the next thing we see is ANOTHER big, reclining Buddha. This one is real big - he used to be in a building back in the age of the ancients, but the building is long gone now. I'm fed up of buddhas too. I can't stand them - not just the two you've seen, but bangkok is chockers with them, and stalls have them, and really, it's a little much. Sure, they do stone carving, but I think at some level they're just showing off that they can carve a mean statue.
Oh! Calamities! I've got to hand back this computer, to my hostess so that she can organise some stuff! So here it is, just in case I don't get the urge to blog in an hour or so.
* * *
Ok, let's finish off this day, because it's a big one, and there is more to add!
Ummm... oh yeah! So, after the buddha (and after a monk gleefully pointed out to me that I was wandering around with my fly undone), we go to a boat, for a ride back to Bangkok. It's a really fun ride, all Heart of Darkness-y. I even say this to Beth, because she's read some books (I know! Americans CAN read more than menus!) and as it happens, one of them is even HOD.
We're onto conversations about life in general, and she's describing her life in the states - all work, work work work, and not much money for it.
"I have a hard life, Andrew" she says. As we sup on cocktails, relaxing on deck chairs, cruising down a river, on either side of which are stilit houses with impoverished, rag wearing people looking out.
Beside me, Neil has given up, and is reminiscing about women he's picked up "like that!" It's a hard life, alright.
Here is a photo of the sea and me, driving the boat! I am even wearing a hat, which is a must when you drive a boat. I totally moved that big steering wheel too. But just a bit, I didn't want to hit a rock and die.
Oh wait, I'll add the photos later on today. But for now, be content that they exist. And they rock.
What else happens? We finish the tour, Beth and I grab a cocktail at some extra swank bar, and I put on my fancy move shoes (these are not real, by the way. This is a literary method, known as a metaphor) to bust a move. Neil has long since departed with some crappy star wars rip off line, and I'm left with all I can give, honest praise and a happy smile.
She's energised me in a way that only a few (ok, a couple to be technical) have in the past. I can't describe the feeling. I could work for hours - here, let me get all poetical to brush up on my literary skills:
The vastness of life, spread out like the desert, collapses down to reveal a great canyon,
a river flowing through it that pulsates with blue electricity.
You could curl there, on an island by the river,
for ever
- the desert above freezes, but you are warm.
Ok, that's the last I try anything literary. I feel ridiculous.
I lean forward, it's time to use Neil's kick ass, no failure line.
"Would you like to kiss?" I ask. I am appearing as nochalent as you can when you really aren't nochalent at all. More like non-plussed.
He claimed a 100% success rate with this one. When you combine it with the theory. But screw theory, I'm not listening to a drunk american appirition.
She gives a honey-sweet smile, the kind that flowers spring from, and for a moment I feel like hugging Neil, with all his crap theories. It's home run season.
"I'd like to, really." she says. I... what?? That's not how the Neil Strauss script runs.
"But I have a boyfriend back in the states. I'm sorry, but I can't. We should meet up when you get to NYC though, it would be a real blast."
Damn.
God, I bet you guys thought there would be ac-SHUN in this blog, eh? About time and all that, eh? Well, you were wrong, dammit. Eternal optimist that I am, though, I'm sure something will turn up!
Next blog!
Boom Boom! (No, not that kind)
Phuket and diving and nearly dying!
Germans! Gay ones! Cabarets! Gay ones!
Phi Phi island!
What more could you want in a blog?
(don't answer that last question - it is rhetorical. Which means I am arrogant and don't care for your opinion, I have already formed it for you, and am telling you by asking you a question. That is how good I am. I ask questions and give answers. Just like Socrates did. Only mama iyer's li'l boy ain't drinking no hemlock, no siree)
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