Saturday, October 9, 2021
5:40 a.m. Room 309, SOHO Boutique Hotel
Tak City, Thailand
I had a great day yesterday, though not precisely the day I expected. After some confusion and effort, I did manage to locate both the Petrified Wood Forest Park and the Flinstones-themed coffee shop. But both were closed. Oddly enough, Brett went to the Petrified Wood Forest Park just a couple of weeks ago, and it was open for him. But I watched the opening part of his video, and I’m pretty sure that he just got lucky. When I showed up at the gate, the barricade was partially raised, just as it was for Brett. Physically, I could have ridden under it and into the National Park. But there were soldiers there, and one of them came to stop me and tell me that the park was closed. When Brett rode up to this raised barricade, there were no soldiers around. So he just rode past and went to see the park. I think the park was technically closed even at that time, but the soldiers were taking a break when Brett appeared, and he wasn’t stopped.
At the Flintstones coffee shop, I was able to ride my scooter into the parking lot and take pictures of all the statues of Fred and Wilma and Betty and Barney and Pebbles and BamBam and Dino, but the coffee shop itself was closed. I just took pictures and left. While there, I spoke with a man, and he asked me where I had come from and where I was going. In my answer, I mentioned Mae Sot, and his eyes widened in shock. He even called over to a woman, who I assume was his mother, and he told her what I had said. They both chatted in concern for a minute. And then the man said to me in English something like, “Mae Sot very danger. Covid.” Apparently, Mae Sot has the reputation of a dangerous place to be.
Leaving my hotel in Sam Ngao was relatively effortless. Since I didn’t anticipate a long day, I had made no attempt to leave super early. I took my time with my morning coffees and packing. This meant that I was able to collect my 100-baht room key deposit. The last time I stayed at this hotel, I had to leave a 100-baht deposit for the key. But I left so early the next morning that it wasn’t possible to get it back. No one was awake yet. And there is no office at this hotel. It’s owned and run by a family that just lives in one of the rooms like everyone else. I talked about this on my video that day, and I commented on how I always end up losing room key deposits when I stay at hotels that require one. I generally leave too early in the morning to ever get it back.
But this time, I was leaving so late that there was lots of activity over at the room where the owners or managers lived. Once my scooter was fully packed and ready to go, I strolled over to return the key and I got the deposit back. The wife of this husband-and-wife team speaks a bit of English, and she asked me about my plans. She seemed surprised that I was in Sam Ngao at all, and she wanted to know why I was there. It didn’t appear to make sense to her that this small town would be appealing to me as a tourist attraction. She also told me that her mother had seen me all over the town taking pictures, and she wanted to know what that was all about. This conversation drove home again that as a foreigner in a town like this, you don’t go unnoticed. Everything you do will be noted by someone, and the story will spread through the town like wildfire. Everyone will quickly know who you are and everything you’ve done. It’s a good reminder to be on your best behavior.
All was not totally smooth with my departure, however. One of the last things I needed to do to get ready was to attach my GoPro to the Jaws Flex Clamp, which was, in turn, attached to the scooter grip. Not long ago, I bought a special mount from a company called Ram Mounts to do precisely this. This company makes heavy-duty and very good mounting systems for action cameras, smartphones, tablets, laptops, and GPS devices. But as I slid the GoPro quick release buckle into position, one of the two locking arms snapped off. That was so annoying. My heavy-duty and somewhat expensive mount hadn’t lasted very long. I didn’t have anything in my bag of tricks that was able to fix it, so I ended up simply holding the GoPro in place with a bunch of twisted gardening wire. And that meant I no longer had the quick release capability. The GoPro was now wired into position permanently, and I would have to undo the entire wire assembly every time I wanted to remove the GoPro from the scooter. That was very annoying.
My plan for the day was to ride to Tak along the large and busy Highway 1. I wasn’t pleased about that, but it was necessary in order to visit the park and the coffee shop. By the time I discovered that both the park and the coffee shop were closed, I have to admit that I was going a bit out of my mind from the roar of the traffic. At the side of one of those major highways is not a place where humans are meant to live. The noise is oppressive and overwhelming. And this was compounded by the frequency with which I had to stop to service my GoPro or otherwise fiddle around with technology. It was a bit much, I have to admit. Even for me. It felt like every ten minutes, I had to pull over to the side of the highway to work on something. The GoPro overheated and shut down repeatedly. The memory card filled up and had to be replaced. The battery died and had to be replaced twice. The gardening wire holding the GoPro in place seemed to come loose twice, and I had to stop to adjust it and tighten it. And while I worked on these various issues, the massive trucks roared past just feet away and created a world of sound that seemed to be beating me around the head. It’s an oppressive and hostile world to inhabit while dealing with the fidgety details of opening up camera bags and getting out tiny microSD cards. And all this was taking place while the sun was roasting me alive. It was not a good time.
Luckily, after I passed the Flintstones coffee shop, I was free to leave the highway, and I did so at the earliest opportunity. I found a small road that led down to the shore of the nearby Ping River. I was only a few kilometers away from Tak City by this point, but I was very happy to complete the trip in the peace and quiet of that small road, far away from the highway. However, even that trip wasn’t easy. There was a lot of construction going on somewhere in that area, and large sand and gravel trucks went past regularly and filled the air with stinging dust that found its way into my eyes and throat. Meanwhile, the sun continued to beat down. One could almost (almost!) yearn for the cooler conditions of the rainy season that finally appeared to be coming to an end.
I’d heard that Tak City was spread out over a long distance, and it did strike me that way as I rode along the river. I appeared to enter city limits a long, long way from the actual center of town where my hotel was located. I’m pretty sure this was a historical result of the town being beside the river. Houses and businesses just naturally spread out alongside the river, like long tentacles of human habitation stretching out into the countryside, until the city became stretched out and elongated.
I arrived in Tak City around twelve-thirty, which was too early to check in at my hotel. Considering they probably have low occupancy, chances are I could have checked in before the official two p.m. check-in time. A room would probably have been ready, but I decided to hang out and wait until two. It was a good chance to visit the King Taksin the Great Memorial Shrine, which, along with the pedestrian bridge, are the two major attractions of the city. I thought that since both the petrified tree park and the Flintstones coffee shop were a bust, it would be nice to fold a new attraction into my day.
As it turned out, I was glad I did this. The shrine was much larger and more elaborate than I expected. I honestly expected to find little more than a statue on a street corner or in the center of a roundabout. I knew King Taksin was revered in Thailand as a national hero, but the scale and tone of this shrine came as a complete surprise. It was a large and beautifully landscaped park filled with all manner of attractions. The focal point for the park was a building containing a statue of King Taksin, and the activity there was identical to what you would see at a Buddhist shrine. People prayed to the statue and left offerings and performed divining rituals. This surprised me because I thought of King Taksin as a figure of history. He was considered a great man and a great ruler, but he was still just a man. He was a king and a military leader, and his story would be in the history books. He was not a religious figure to be worshipped and prayed to. But over time, he had been transformed into such a figure, and his statue was treated with the same reverence as a religious statue.
I don’t have the exact details of the life of King Taksin at my mental fingertips. In fact, once you get into the history of Thailand and all the names of the various kingdoms start popping up, I quickly lose track and get lost. However, King Taksin was instrumental in defeating an invading Burmese army in the eighteenth century. And he is admired for that. As king he was involved in various wars and military campaigns for his entire reign. However, he was also something of a renaissance ruler, and he focused on improving the road system and other public works, on building schools and education systems, and promoting the arts. All of this work came together to make him a special figure in the history of Thailand, and people appear to come from all over the country to visit this shrine.
One of the first things I saw from my scooter as I rode up to this park was a large fountain filled with about six or eight full-sized statues of black stallions. And there was another large area filled with other statues of war horses, soldiers, and canons. Based on how all of these were of random sizes and styles, I assumed they were donated by individuals and companies. Near this irregular army was a vast square of hundreds, maybe thousands, of rooster statues. Behind that was a similar area filled with small statues of elephants and horses. These were all arrayed by size from smallest at the front to largest at the back. It was quite the sight, and I tried to get fancy with my Pocket 2 camera by zooming the lens right over the heads of this menagerie. I was using the Pocket 2 because the GoPro had overheated and shut down again just as I arrived at the shrine.
On the highway coming toward Tak, I passed multiple shops at the side of the road selling statues like the ones I saw at the shrine. I wondered if all these stores sprang up solely to sell statues for this shrine. That seemed unlikely, though. There were far too many of these businesses for just this one shrine. In fact, now that I think back, I remember being surprised at how many temples were located along the river as I rode into Tak. I passed what felt like dozens of large temples, more than I would expect to find in a town of this size. Perhaps Tak is known as a city of temples, and the shops outside the city do a roaring trade in selling statuary to visitors coming to worship at these temples.
After my visit to the King Taksin the Great Memorial Shrine, I still had time before the official check-in time at the hotel. I remembered seeing some kind coffee shop at the parking lot for the shrine, and I made my way back there to check it out. From the outside (and definitely from the inside), it was not my kind of place. It was a pink and frilly kind of cafe selling fancy, sugary concoctions involving lots of ice cream, chocolate, and shiny, colorful sprinkles. It’s the kind place that makes my teeth hurt just looking at it. But I was in no mood to go wandering around in the city in that heat to find a more suitable place. With some trepidation, I made my way over to this pink, frosty place and looked for the door. I say that I looked for the door because it wasn’t totally obvious where it was. It turned out that the door itself was disguised as a kind of children’s vending machine dispensing prizes. It was a hidden door. I might never have discovered it on my own, but a person on the inside just happened to be leaving and this vending machine opened up while I was standing there, and as it swung to the side, it revealed the doorway into the interior.
I was hesitant to enter. I’m always hesitant these days because everything is always closed, and I dislike being rejected. I always feel like I have done something wrong when I try to go to a place and then am turned away. I hate making mistakes. I fully assumed that as I tried to enter this sweets emporium, I would be turned away in horror. But it was open, and I was allowed to go inside and take a seat. This was clearly not a place for a giant, sweaty, disheveled man such as I was at that time. This was a place for dainty girls, and young mothers and their young children. I had the impression of being inside a pink cake filled with pillows, flowers, knickknacks, and teddy bears.
My intention was to order a manly coffee. But when faced with the colorful interior and the displays of ice cream and sweets, I felt a coffee order would be a disappointment to the owners. I decided to look over their ordering menu and see if I could order something that would allow them to put their best foot forward and serve me something that they specialize in and are proud of. Unfortunately, when I sat down at a small table and did my best to get comfortable, I discovered that the menu was almost entirely in Thai. It did not really help me in making a suitable choice. The sections of the menu did have English words as part of the title, and I focused on the section that read “Smoothies”. I thought a smoothie would be a good compromise between my desires and the things they could make. I brought the menu back up to the counter, and I pointed to the word smoothie. The woman responded with the English question, “Strawberry?” I actually am not a big fan of strawberry-flavored smoothies and ice cream. It is always far too sweet and syrupy. But I was in the mood to follow the path of least resistance, and I simply agreed to whatever she suggested. And after a few minutes, a garish strawberry smoothie showed up at my table. It was pink as no drink has the right to be. And the top was covered in brightly colored marshmallows and flowers and sprinkles. It was a sight.
And then, for reasons I don’t understand, I felt like I should order something else. It felt insufficient to order just this drink and leave. And, by this point, I discovered that in addition to the paper menu you use to place your order, they also had regular and very large menus complete with photographs of all their dishes. And I took these giant books back to my table to look them over. I was curious about all the things they made. And then I spent so long going over these menus, that it would have felt weird to order nothing. It would have seemed like I was rejecting their offerings. I was only looking at the menus out of vague interest. I was treating them like reading material. But the owners of this sweets cafe didn’t know that. They would assume that I was looking for something to order. And if I didn’t order anything, they would assume that I didn’t like what they made. It is difficult living inside my brain. I overthink just about everything.
In the end, I settled on a tasty-looking brownie with ice cream and chocolate sauce. But even then, I was hesitant. When I place an order in a restaurant, I tend to be hesitant. I’m hesitant because I’m worried that they won’t actually have the item I’ve chosen. And that often turns out to be the case. And then I worry that I’ve made them feel bad by ordering something that they can’t make. They have to apologize. And that’s exactly what happened in this case. I pointed hesitantly at the picture of the brownie, and the woman smiled guiltily and shook her head no. They didn’t have any brownies. And now we ended up in this weird situation where she started flipping through the menu to locate items that they could make. And there seemed to be very few of these. I could have chosen items from this menu for twenty minutes only to be told each time that that order was not possible.
By this point, I simply wanted the ordeal to be over, and I agreed with the very next thing she pointed at. And this was something called a crunchy chocolate sundae. It was actually a good choice. I can enjoy a couple of scoops of chocolate ice cream as much as the next man. And from the photograph, it looked like the brightly-colored sprinkles and decorations would be kept to a minimum.
So, finally, I found myself in the very strange position of consuming a strawberry smoothie and a chocolate sundae at the King Taksin the Great Memorial Shrine.
By the time I was done, it was after two o’clock, and I hopped on my scooter and rode the short distance to the SOHO Boutique Hotel. Things at the SOHO went delightfully smoothly. The reservation made by my Mystery Benefactor was accepted without question. All I needed to do was hand over my passport to confirm my identity and then fill out a simple form with my phone number and signature. And that was it. I was handed an electronic keycard for room 309, and I was free to go. They did not require a deposit. They did not ask me to sign several affidavits confirming that I would behave myself and not destroy their property. And they did not make me sign forms declaring the array of financial penalties I would have to pay if any items in my room were damaged or went missing. I was not even required to fill out a covid-19 tracking and tracing form detailing my movements and addresses. I felt welcome at the SOHO.
The room, of course, is fantastic. It is large and contains not only the things I want and need but many other things besides. The bed is quite large and extremely comfortable. The towels had been folded into the shape of swans forming a heart with their long necks. The room has a closet that is almost as large as some entire single rooms I have stayed in at budget guest houses in my life. I could sleep inside that closet comfortably, The room has not one but two long counters. At one counter, there is a kitchen-style chair with a nice backrest. That is always welcome. It surprises me how many relatively upscale hotel rooms won’t have any chairs at all. I like to have a chair. There is a mini fridge, of course, and a kettle, plus all the usual complimentary soaps, shampoos, toothbrushes, instant coffee packets, and bottles of water. Best of all, there are two coffee mugs. And these are actual coffee mugs. They’re not dainty teacups. These are big, manly coffee mugs that can hold oceans of coffee. I love those. One of the reasons I pack my own Tim Hortons coffee cup everywhere I go is because the usual cups that hotels supply are far too small. And the coffee mug at the SOHO puts even my Tim Hortons mug to shame. I haven’t done a comparison or test, but I think this SOHO mug could hold nearly twice as much liquid as my Timmy mug.
I have to admit that I was a bit of a wreck by this point. It really hadn’t been a long or difficult day, but I guess I have turned into a wimp. I had been beaten down and exhausted by the sun and the roar of the highway. I was already exhausted when I was at the shrine and the sweets cafe. And as much as I was enjoying the process of checking into this nice room and unpacking and getting settled, I was stumbling around and barely able to concentrate. I did all of this in stages. When I first arrived, I left my big backpack strapped to my scooter. I went inside the hotel to check in carrying just my knapsack. I brought that up to my room, and then I had to go back down to get my backpack and the large jug of water I had in the helmet compartment. I brought those up to my room, and then I had to go back down again to move my scooter away from the front entrance and to the official parking area.
And then I had to do the official documenting. I was still running the Relive app, and I wanted to take pictures of my arrival in order to include them in the final map. To my dismay, I realized that I had paused the app at the shrine and then I had forgotten to resume it when I left. So I thought the final portion of my trip wouldn’t have been recorded. But it appears that the app was able to recreate it even though it wasn’t officially recording at the time. In order to officially end the activity, I had to connect my phones to the hotel WiFi. I was pleased to find out that no password was required for the SOHO WiFi network. I thought that was a logical and wise decision on their part. I don’t really understand why hotels have complex passwords these days anyway. What’s the point anymore?
And once I was connected, I was able to finalize the Relive activity. And that involved choosing a title for the activity, selecting the photos I wanted to include,and writing little captions for the photographs. I completed that, and then I was free to roam around the hotel. I always go out and explore a little bit as soon as I arrive. My main goal is to go up as high as I can and look at the views over the city. I rode the elevator up to the top floor, which was the seventh floor, but it was not open. When the elevator door opened, I was faced with a steel security grate that would not open. Then I went back down to the sixth, where I was able to go to the doors at the fire exit at both ends and go out onto a balcony to look out over the city and take some pictures. When I did this, my life almost ended. Literally. I didn’t see it until it was almost too late, but the floor at my feet was an open square to make room for the fire escape ladder. I hadn’t seen this opening at all, and only at the last second did I stop myself from stepping right into it. Looking down into that opening and contemplating the drop, it was clear that surviving that fall would be solely a matter of chance. I might have lived. I might not have. But without question, I would have been hospitalized in critical condition with multiple broken bones and internal bleeding. I pondered that opening for a while and I wondered at its nature. I understand that fire regulations would prevent the setting up of actual barriers to this precipitous fire escape plunge. But I couldn’t help but feel that a bright yellow ribbon wouldn’t have gone amiss. Then again, I was clearly quite tired and not thinking straight, and I was viewing the world through a camera. That’s probably why I didn’t even see the opening on the floor.
I spent mid-afternoon in this wonderful room enjoying some instant coffee while lounging on this comfy bed. But when sunset time started to roll around and the sun was lower in the sky, I decided to go outside and check out the pedestrian bridge. To be honest, I was too tired to really do that. I was more in the mood to just stay indoors. I’d had enough of the outside world for one day. But I would only be in Tak for two nights and one full day. And the pedestrian bridge was very near the hotel. I felt that since I had already visited the famous shrine, I might as well visit the famous pedestrian bridge. At the very least, I could treat it as a chance to further test my Pocket 2 camera. So I got ready, and I sailed out the door to walk to the bridge.
I was clearly not in the best condition. I found the chaotic traffic difficult to navigate. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all. But I managed to not get run over as I made my way down to the bridge. This was a Friday night, and lots of market stalls were being set up along the main roads near the river. It was a good opportunity for a night of snacking, but I knew I didn’t have the energy for it. After my trip to the bridge, I did walk along the main streets and film some of the market activity. And I picked up some chicken and rice and veggies to eat back in my room for dinner. But that was as far as my experience of the riverside nightlife went. I figured I could go back the next night, Saturday night, which is tonight.
To my surprise, I enjoyed my visit to the bridge very much, and I was glad I made the effort to go. It was casual fun. The bridge itself is surprisingly long. It is a true pedestrian bridge, and there are no cars or trucks or motorcycles at all. THAT fact alone made walking across it a delightful experience. When else in Thailand are you ever free of the roar of traffic? And the noise and heat of Tak City proper faded away as I walked out over this slender, bouncing suspension bridge. A gentle breeze picked up as I walked farther and farther out over the river. The sun was lowering in the sky to the west over the mountains and casting a dramatic tone over the whole scene. I loved being out there. And the bridge appeared to have the same effect on everyone else. There were a number of local people walking across the bridge, and they were clearly out there simply to enjoy the scene, as I was. This bridge didn’t actually go anywhere useful for most people. It was not meant as a transportation corridor. It was meant for leisure, and people had come in their exercise clothes and were busy stretching and waving their arms. And this change in tone meant that people smiled at me and waved hello and we all greeted each other as we passed. A man rolling along a bicycle stopped to chat with me and he asked me if the video I was shooting would be on YouTube and he asked for my channel’s name. I had lots of friendly encounters with people, and that was kind of a rare experience. I started to feel very fond of this town of Tak.
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