Letter written to family after returning from Thailand and Malaysia, 2006
Selamat tengah hari,
Well, good to be back in the warm embrace of Japan, but the sights, smells and tastes of Southeast Asia still linger, inextricably suffused into our senses. We spent some of the most unforgettable days there, and turned out to be just the kind of R&R we needed. Our time in Malaysia moved glacially slow, a place that makes even laidback Maui seem like New York City. Our three weeks felt more like three Japan months.
And we saw yet another side of Thailand, the central part, visiting Katchanaburi, host town of the infamous Death Railway, and the ‘Bridge on the River Kwai’. Sight of this landmark bridge will have anyone who has seen the movie involuntarily start whistling the Colonel Bogey march alongside the ghosts of Alec Guinness and company. It’s a fascinating, and remarkably beautiful part of Thailand. A ride on the aptly named ‘Death Railway’ will scare the pants off you more so than the gnarliest of rollercoasters. So happens “Kwai” means scary in Japanese (no relation). Our train was delayed due to a “minor derailment”, an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. When a vehicle weighing untold tons comes off its tracks, “minor” is not the adjective that first comes to mind. At any rate, the trip was of the variety only the Thais can provide: lethal. On every corner of the Kingdom you’ll find attractions that can potentially kill you (see elephant photo below). To cite another example, there’s a monastery near Katchanaburi that is run by a monk who happens to keep 18 tigers, creating a sort of orphanage for the endangered animals. To help fill the coffer (to help cover running costs), the monk has opened his ‘Tiger Temple’ to visitors. True to Thai style, visitors are invited to the tranquil temple to risk loss of life and limb. The main draw being visitors are welcome to try their hand at petting the lovely 400-pound felines, sometimes literally losing the limb in reciprocation. I never laugh when I hear these stories of tourist bravery (a.k.a. tourist stupidity). Thailand has this charming power to fill you with more bravado than is good for you. I should know. Momentarily swapping my scruples with Clark Griswold, I found myself signing up my family and myself for a tour of the Tiger Temple. It wasn’t until the owner of the guesthouse we were staying told me that recently a hapless tourist was mauled to shreds by one of the monk’s cats because he had made the fashion faux pas of wearing a red shirt. Guess, like bulls, red enrages tigers. So happens my travel wardrobe consisted of mostly red items (this becomes evident upon seeing our travel pics. see below).
These are the sort of tidbits of trivial knowledge Marlin Perkins should have been imparting on Wild Kingdom, don’t you think? Then again, maybe that’s why Mutual of Omaha pulled the plug on Perkins: too many housewives cashing in on their husbands’ life insurance policies after being inspired to take nutzoid safaris and jungle treks into carnivorous beast infested lands.
Thailand: a Wild Kingdom, indeed.
I’ll spare you the story about our unforgiving, 14-hour journey on Malaysia’s ‘Jungle Railway’, yet another chapter from the Travels & Perils of The Kubos. And no trip of ours is without ‘Gilligan Time’…yes, we did find the "uncharted desert isle” paradise, The Perhentian Islands! A place time itself becomes meaningless, allowing us to surrender our senses to the islands’ refreshingly untamed nature. Kecil (small island) and Besar (big island) are jungle-crowned dots on a map, but teeming with more wildlife than 100 zoos in one! No cars, not motorbikes, no concrete, no phones. Boring? No way! Stretch on a mask, plug in a snorkel, take a dip, and the surrounding seas become a seizure of pure, primal life, the likes of which I’ve only seen illustrated in Jackie Turner’s Watchtower magazines. (I think some of those pages gave the Tiger monk the idea for his temple.) And just when you thought life was getting predictable, a shark the size of Kai meanders under your flippers, Nemo gets innumerably cloned, and you find yourself swimming with giant sea turtles. Here’s a mental image to ponder: Kai throwing a Triscuit overboard, watching in awe as a school of normally docile tropical fish become a seething, thrashing bath of piranhas.
Well, in case you were wondering, yes, the four of us made it out of Bangkok before the country shut down. By mere hours, we managed to miss the hoopla coup de ta, the overthrow of the Thai government.
Again, good to be back. Just waiting (hoping) for our minds to catch up with our bodies.
With love,
Mike
Selamat tengah hari,
Well, good to be back in the warm embrace of Japan, but the sights, smells and tastes of Southeast Asia still linger, inextricably suffused into our senses. We spent some of the most unforgettable days there, and turned out to be just the kind of R&R we needed. Our time in Malaysia moved glacially slow, a place that makes even laidback Maui seem like New York City. Our three weeks felt more like three Japan months.
And we saw yet another side of Thailand, the central part, visiting Katchanaburi, host town of the infamous Death Railway, and the ‘Bridge on the River Kwai’. Sight of this landmark bridge will have anyone who has seen the movie involuntarily start whistling the Colonel Bogey march alongside the ghosts of Alec Guinness and company. It’s a fascinating, and remarkably beautiful part of Thailand. A ride on the aptly named ‘Death Railway’ will scare the pants off you more so than the gnarliest of rollercoasters. So happens “Kwai” means scary in Japanese (no relation). Our train was delayed due to a “minor derailment”, an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. When a vehicle weighing untold tons comes off its tracks, “minor” is not the adjective that first comes to mind. At any rate, the trip was of the variety only the Thais can provide: lethal. On every corner of the Kingdom you’ll find attractions that can potentially kill you (see elephant photo below). To cite another example, there’s a monastery near Katchanaburi that is run by a monk who happens to keep 18 tigers, creating a sort of orphanage for the endangered animals. To help fill the coffer (to help cover running costs), the monk has opened his ‘Tiger Temple’ to visitors. True to Thai style, visitors are invited to the tranquil temple to risk loss of life and limb. The main draw being visitors are welcome to try their hand at petting the lovely 400-pound felines, sometimes literally losing the limb in reciprocation. I never laugh when I hear these stories of tourist bravery (a.k.a. tourist stupidity). Thailand has this charming power to fill you with more bravado than is good for you. I should know. Momentarily swapping my scruples with Clark Griswold, I found myself signing up my family and myself for a tour of the Tiger Temple. It wasn’t until the owner of the guesthouse we were staying told me that recently a hapless tourist was mauled to shreds by one of the monk’s cats because he had made the fashion faux pas of wearing a red shirt. Guess, like bulls, red enrages tigers. So happens my travel wardrobe consisted of mostly red items (this becomes evident upon seeing our travel pics. see below).
These are the sort of tidbits of trivial knowledge Marlin Perkins should have been imparting on Wild Kingdom, don’t you think? Then again, maybe that’s why Mutual of Omaha pulled the plug on Perkins: too many housewives cashing in on their husbands’ life insurance policies after being inspired to take nutzoid safaris and jungle treks into carnivorous beast infested lands.
Thailand: a Wild Kingdom, indeed.
I’ll spare you the story about our unforgiving, 14-hour journey on Malaysia’s ‘Jungle Railway’, yet another chapter from the Travels & Perils of The Kubos. And no trip of ours is without ‘Gilligan Time’…yes, we did find the "uncharted desert isle” paradise, The Perhentian Islands! A place time itself becomes meaningless, allowing us to surrender our senses to the islands’ refreshingly untamed nature. Kecil (small island) and Besar (big island) are jungle-crowned dots on a map, but teeming with more wildlife than 100 zoos in one! No cars, not motorbikes, no concrete, no phones. Boring? No way! Stretch on a mask, plug in a snorkel, take a dip, and the surrounding seas become a seizure of pure, primal life, the likes of which I’ve only seen illustrated in Jackie Turner’s Watchtower magazines. (I think some of those pages gave the Tiger monk the idea for his temple.) And just when you thought life was getting predictable, a shark the size of Kai meanders under your flippers, Nemo gets innumerably cloned, and you find yourself swimming with giant sea turtles. Here’s a mental image to ponder: Kai throwing a Triscuit overboard, watching in awe as a school of normally docile tropical fish become a seething, thrashing bath of piranhas.
Well, in case you were wondering, yes, the four of us made it out of Bangkok before the country shut down. By mere hours, we managed to miss the hoopla coup de ta, the overthrow of the Thai government.
Again, good to be back. Just waiting (hoping) for our minds to catch up with our bodies.
With love,
Mike
