Boat Rides

This post is dedicated to Dad, who taught me that you should always do anything involving a boat ride. Though this didn't work out in Lyon, France (the best part about the river there are the bridges . . . ), Dad's advice has been perfect for Thailand: the cheapest, fastest and most likely place to spot locals has definitely been boats.

The canals retain the old Bangkok architecture (in the form of wooden and congregated metal slums that line the canals) while the modern concrete high rises start just a few yards in, the houses over hanging the canals look like they've been in Bangkok for a while. The water itself is fetid and black, probably even deader than the Ganges, and no one seems to be bathing in it or drinking the thick soup. It's plied by long narrow ferries that take commuters to and from various Bangkok neighborhoods. When it's raining, they become strange plastic enclaves hurtling through the dark, and it's easy to get completely lost. If you ever have a chance to get on one, they don't stop unless you stand up and get the attention of the assistants clinging to the sides of the boat. . . The main river is more touristy, but still transversed by a crazy mix of tour boats, Thais on dinner cruises, Royal barges (I witnessed a practice run where acres of boys in red baseball caps, instead of ceremonial headdresses, stood at attention by the oars), passenger ferries and long tailed boat taxis. Definitely my favorite part of Bangkok.

Since this trip is partly about food, my thoughts on Thai cuisine: I find Vietnamese more complex, but Thai food has two very important things going for it. 1) it's absolutely fresh, as I've yet to see anything that wasn't made to order, from the street stalls to the fancy restaurants. 2) it's everywhere. Unlike DC, where satisfying a food craving in the tourist areas can feel like a hunt for buried treasure, the Thais have thoughtfully places something to eat at least every 50 feet. High on too much coffee with sweetened condensed milk, the afternoon is mostly a game of what don't I want to eat, as everything imaginable is on display.

And in case anyone was wondering, after what felt like a stay in five star hotel (except for they part where they stick needles in you and administer large electric shocks . . . ) I have been diagnosed with drop foot. A completely compressed nerve in my left knee, and partially compressed one in my right has left me unable to lift my toes easily. I have settled into a kind of lurching gait, and the doctors tell me that everything should be back to normal within six months. This means minimal hiking in New Zealand, but I should still be able to work on farms. If you ever go to Nepal, don't sleep on your side, or spend long hours squatting!