Musings
I'm meant to provide an end for Bob's post about the bus since he has run off to see 'Constantine.' (Yes, I eschewed the eye candy of Keanu Reeves willingly...what have I become?) So here goes. He got to the point about us stopping for dinner. After a tepid serving of sub-par fried rice, we boarded our luxury coach, expecting to embark at any moment and return to our napping. But it was not to be! The universe had other plans for us.
We had been sitting on the bus for a few minutes, festering in our own sweat, when the driver came on and told us that we had to change buses because the air-con was broken. Fair enough. I know that most of our readership is currently living in chilly conditions and would welcome some warmth, but the heat in humidity in Thailand rivals an Alabama August, so air-con is pretty important. Our next bus was quickly forthcoming; unfortunately, it was a serious downgrade. The seats were significantly smaller and didn't fully recline, and after 5 minutes of riding, we noticed a not insubstantial vibration. After 10 minutes of riding, an older Italian woman approached the driver with a problem. Apparently, when we made the switch to the other bus, she didn't see any need to transfer all of her luggage, and now a painting of hers was on the other bus.
Our bus driver, when he went to sleep the previous night, hadn't planned on being woken up at one in the morning to do a drive. And his English language skills were non-existent. I don't fault him for this, but it did make it difficult for the Italian woman to communicate her needs. We pulled over at a petrol station to resolve the issue. The players involved a Canadian named Imran, an Aussie bloke named Gordo who told us he 'likes to party,' and an American girl scheduled to catch her flight home out of Bangkok at nine this morning. We never caught her name, but called her 'Japan to LA,' after her connecting flights. Clearly, she had the most invested in making sure that the painting was recovered in a timely fashion, but she never flipped out, as I would have certainly felt justified in doing.
Imran had been doing relief work in the south of Thailand for the previous two months, so he had a helpful spirit in addition to a limited Thai vocabulary. He attempted to mediate. Gordo went and got a beer, in true Aussie fashion, and seemed to be either consoling or hitting on Japan-to-LA; we couldn't tell as we watched the drama outside unfold from our seats in the bus. A small crowd started to gather. Cell phones were pulled out. Some passers-by were enlisted, I believe, to chase down the rogue painting. Keep in mind that it was, at this point, about three in the morning. Sleep deprivation and the lurid glare of neon lamps contributed to the surreal atmosphere. One of the gas station attendants started riding a child's bicycle around the parking lot, wearing a cowboy hat and smoking a cigarette. Gordo, who was enjoying some Valium in addition to his beer (smart lad, that one) suggested that we pay the guy with the bicycle five baht each and all 'have a go on it,' maybe even make a competition out of it. Unfortunately, it didn't happen.
Instead, the passengers who weren't asleep, ourselves included, piled out of the bus to join in the fun. Bob went and got beer, adding much to the situation by pointing out to everybody that the big Chang beer, which is twice the volume of the small Chang, costs only 10 baht more. Since we sat in the gas station parking lot for at least an hour, some people got 'right pissed,' if you will.
The rest, as they say, is history. The painting was eventually returned, and I guess we'll never know if Japan-to-LA made her flight. We arrived at our hostel in Bangkok (luckily, Imran is staying at the same place) around 8 AM, and have been re-acquainting ourselves with this glorious city.
It's funny, because if the event with the bus hadn't happened, there would have been little, if any, fodder for a new post. As we travel through progressively civilized countries, we have to look for adventures ourselves instead of counting on them to find us. We're prepping for our trip to Oz, that bizarre country that brought such an unlikely pair as Mel and Bob together for the first time.
I want to thank some commenters publicly. Max, your comment the other day was so sweet that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. To Jenny Coleman and Gene and Kathy Gibson, I thank you for commenting more than my own family typically does. It is always great to feel support from our friends and family, no matter where we are. As home gets closer and closer (and e-mails from UAB grow more frequent, reminding me of the slightly more arduous life that awaits), I think of how fortunate that we are to have such wonderful homes to return to.
Speaking of home, I will conclude with the quote I saw on a t-shirt in Ko Pha Ngan, further confirming that the reputation of my great state has spread far and wide:
'ALABAMA: So many recipes, so few squirrels'
We had been sitting on the bus for a few minutes, festering in our own sweat, when the driver came on and told us that we had to change buses because the air-con was broken. Fair enough. I know that most of our readership is currently living in chilly conditions and would welcome some warmth, but the heat in humidity in Thailand rivals an Alabama August, so air-con is pretty important. Our next bus was quickly forthcoming; unfortunately, it was a serious downgrade. The seats were significantly smaller and didn't fully recline, and after 5 minutes of riding, we noticed a not insubstantial vibration. After 10 minutes of riding, an older Italian woman approached the driver with a problem. Apparently, when we made the switch to the other bus, she didn't see any need to transfer all of her luggage, and now a painting of hers was on the other bus.
Our bus driver, when he went to sleep the previous night, hadn't planned on being woken up at one in the morning to do a drive. And his English language skills were non-existent. I don't fault him for this, but it did make it difficult for the Italian woman to communicate her needs. We pulled over at a petrol station to resolve the issue. The players involved a Canadian named Imran, an Aussie bloke named Gordo who told us he 'likes to party,' and an American girl scheduled to catch her flight home out of Bangkok at nine this morning. We never caught her name, but called her 'Japan to LA,' after her connecting flights. Clearly, she had the most invested in making sure that the painting was recovered in a timely fashion, but she never flipped out, as I would have certainly felt justified in doing.
Imran had been doing relief work in the south of Thailand for the previous two months, so he had a helpful spirit in addition to a limited Thai vocabulary. He attempted to mediate. Gordo went and got a beer, in true Aussie fashion, and seemed to be either consoling or hitting on Japan-to-LA; we couldn't tell as we watched the drama outside unfold from our seats in the bus. A small crowd started to gather. Cell phones were pulled out. Some passers-by were enlisted, I believe, to chase down the rogue painting. Keep in mind that it was, at this point, about three in the morning. Sleep deprivation and the lurid glare of neon lamps contributed to the surreal atmosphere. One of the gas station attendants started riding a child's bicycle around the parking lot, wearing a cowboy hat and smoking a cigarette. Gordo, who was enjoying some Valium in addition to his beer (smart lad, that one) suggested that we pay the guy with the bicycle five baht each and all 'have a go on it,' maybe even make a competition out of it. Unfortunately, it didn't happen.
Instead, the passengers who weren't asleep, ourselves included, piled out of the bus to join in the fun. Bob went and got beer, adding much to the situation by pointing out to everybody that the big Chang beer, which is twice the volume of the small Chang, costs only 10 baht more. Since we sat in the gas station parking lot for at least an hour, some people got 'right pissed,' if you will.
The rest, as they say, is history. The painting was eventually returned, and I guess we'll never know if Japan-to-LA made her flight. We arrived at our hostel in Bangkok (luckily, Imran is staying at the same place) around 8 AM, and have been re-acquainting ourselves with this glorious city.
It's funny, because if the event with the bus hadn't happened, there would have been little, if any, fodder for a new post. As we travel through progressively civilized countries, we have to look for adventures ourselves instead of counting on them to find us. We're prepping for our trip to Oz, that bizarre country that brought such an unlikely pair as Mel and Bob together for the first time.
I want to thank some commenters publicly. Max, your comment the other day was so sweet that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. To Jenny Coleman and Gene and Kathy Gibson, I thank you for commenting more than my own family typically does. It is always great to feel support from our friends and family, no matter where we are. As home gets closer and closer (and e-mails from UAB grow more frequent, reminding me of the slightly more arduous life that awaits), I think of how fortunate that we are to have such wonderful homes to return to.
Speaking of home, I will conclude with the quote I saw on a t-shirt in Ko Pha Ngan, further confirming that the reputation of my great state has spread far and wide:
'ALABAMA: So many recipes, so few squirrels'
1 Comments:
I too do not feel that I can compete with Max's comment (which I had to search for in the previous posts and which I was touched by, but have no idea who Max is). However, after the small guilt trip from Mel's post, I definitely felt the need to add a comment. Oh, and the fact that I miss Sissy Spice terribly!
I really love the posts and the pictures, so keep up the good work. I hope Australia will treat you well...I think it will be a good way to ease into the American life that awaits you in just a few short months. B'ham is not the same without you, and while I know you may not be eager to return, I can't wait for both of you to get back here. I promise plenty of processed pork products, cute shoes, and eyebrow waxes and pedicures upon your return (well, the last two are just for Mel). As always, stay safe and keep posting!
Love,
Fancy
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