First thing this morning I had my flight brought forward to April 2nd. I made the call from a public phone box. By the end of the 5 min call in this tiny sauna I walked out on to the street looking like I'd stepped out of a shower. I had to go back and have a shower. I was soaked with sweat.
After yesterdays depravities I made a move to visit the old town and see some of the temples and palaces, more mainstream tourist activities. I bargained a price with one of the motorbike taxis for a lift to the Grand Palace. I had tried walking there yesterday but the heat got the better of me. I could travel by the famous tuk tuk but I prefer to go by motorbike. They are the quickest and most exciting way around town. You hang on to the seat while the rider weaves through Bangkok's traffic, revving up the engine at every opportunity.
The Grand Palace was a surprise. Having seen other palaces in Indonesia and been disappointed I didn't know what to expect but this was way off the scale. This was one of the most colourful, richly decorated places I've seen. I hadn't realised Thailand is a monarchy. King Rama and the royal household are revered here. Many of the smaller shops and restaurants have pictures and dedications to the King. He celebrated his 80th birthday in December '07 which, apparently was a big do. The Royal Palace is still occupied and the living quarters are out of bounds to the public but the temples and shrines which are scattered around the complex are more than enough to see. They house priceless and celebrated statues of the buddha, in particular, the emerald buddha who's costume is changed with great pomp and ceremony according to the season.
Again today the heat was stifling. You tried to stay in the shade as much as possible. Walking from the Grand Palace down to the waterfront was tough. I felt light headed. I seem to be struggling a lot with the heat and humidity but with the temperature going in to the 40's it was affecting locals anfd tourists alike. I had lunch on the riverbank and ordered a soup simply to try and get as much fluid in to me. Refreshed, I crossed the river by ferry to see the temple of Wat Arun which is located in the old original heart of the city on the West Bank. Again the temple was impressive. Later I took a ferry upriver to have a look at the famous old Backpacker haven of Khaosan Road. There was nothing particularly attractive about the place. Its just one big market street. I walked the length of it, hailed a tuk tuk which brought me back to Sukhumvit.
This evening I went to see Muay Thai, or, Thai Boxing. I've been looking forward to this and it didn't disappoint. I took another motorbike taxi from outside the hostel and I was whizzed across town to Rajadamnern stadium wher tonight bouts were taking place. There arre two Boxing stadiums in the city which alternately host bouts every night of the week. Tonights promoter entitled the bouts 'The Kiatyongyuth Battle'. I arrived into the stadium in time for the first of 10 contests and witnessed a premature end to this fight with a knockout in the 4th round, from a straight punch rather than the classic kick. It was a fasniatng spectacle. The fighters come out in ceremonial garb and perform a ritual warm up accompanied by traditional music. They also fight to this background music. The fights consist of 5 three min rounds with a decisive outcome either by stoppage or by the judges decision. The fighters are small, lithe but supremely fit and athletic. Fighting without protective headgear they are allowed to use knees and elbows as part of their weaponry. With a very distinctive, traditional music in the background the fighting can be very rhythmic as the fighters, consciously or unconsciously, align their movements to this tempo. The fight can be slow and cautious initally but then in an instant it can explode vilently as fighters rain in kicks and punches on his opponent. One lad was caught with a knee to the chin and went out like a light but fair play to him he came to and was able to walk (stagger) out of the ring.
The stadium is like a bearpit. Copious amounts of betting take place through the bouts, and, like the fights, it begins rather passively in the first and second rounds, rising to a frenzy in the third and fourth. In some of the closely fought encounters the atmosphere becomes electric just as the betting reaches a peak and with the crowd roaring as each blow is landed. Between rounds animated spectators yell advice (and insults) down on the fighters. Telling them what they're doing wrong, what they should be doing right, cajoling them, pointing fingers and threatening them. In all three fights ended early. Two knockouts, the other from a dead leg from a series of vicious knees to the thigh during which I was wincing in sympathy with the unfortunat victim. He couldn't walk out of the ring. The rest were decide by the judges and, once or twice, I couldn't believe the decisions. I wonder how much influence the betting has on the outcome of some bouts? I took a motorbike back to the hostel and as the bike buzzed through the streets I was buzzing inside.
