Seven Kilometres on a train anywhere in London is usually around 3 to 4 quid. Cross a County border and it’ll easily step in to double figures. Last time I covered London to Sheffield, I recall the cost at around £30 for a return. Sacrificing air-conditioning, I can cover a quarter of that distance for sixty pence. I’ll spend all of a few femto-seconds debating that one then; and pack up and head to the train station. It’s an hour and a half to the old capital, Ayutthaya.
Whilst my interest in Temples is far beyond fatigued, this place is like an enormous Thorpe Park for Temple fanboys. It makes for some interesting photography, so I hence suggest you visit it first. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and slack-jawed at the architectural ruins in this area, you will be, young padawan. I’m fast becoming a Jedi of Temples and immune to their force-pulling powers, so a day is more than long enough.
Try not to get confused by all the noises if you decide to stay in “traditional Thai style” accommodation. It may look “cute” (as my sister put it), but the cacophony of noise outside is a wee bit of a bugger. Comprising tonight’s Orchestra we have a swarm of Cicadas in a nearby tree, Geckos roaming the eaves of my roof, Crickets maintaining a quartz-locked tempo and a dirty great big Cockroach scuttling across the large load-bearing beam on the flank wall. It’s a shame the Geckos are such girl’s blouses; if they teamed up they could surely take out the ‘roach and have a fine meal on their hands. I should very much like for some
vernichtung to occur here, and indeed also to the snoring German next door. Ah well, just five more hours till the next intermission, where that useless frowning conductor will dip under the horizon.
The following morning and for once I’m glad for the sun. Heading out I’ll grab a quick Slush Puppy at the local 7 Eleven; making sure to pour my pint Guiness-style, or it’ll settle at half-full. That’s some good brain freeze. But wait, I’ve been cornered by a poor unsuspecting Tuk Tuk driver. He’s fully equipped; postcards of the Temples and even a pricelist. This is going to be fun: On the one hand he’s got the battle-hardened stubbornness of a Scottish-Chinese female to contend with and on the other, a tetchy and exhausted farang very much ready for a fight. Let the games begin. I’d like to share some advice on how to drop inflated prices.
• Don’t talk too much. Hold your ground and try to exude confidence.
• Stare them in the eye after offering a price. Don’t blink or flinch; they’ll see it as a sign of weakness.
• Stand tall. Eyes front, shoulders back – suck that chest in. Name and number!
• Take forever to decide. They’re impatient and will renegotiate every 5 minutes or so.
• Take as much time and ask as many questions as you can – how far is it, how long will you take, where are we going, what is it near, is that correct, are you sure, really, what’s your name, how do you pronounce that, where can I get a good Green Curry, when was your Tuk Tuk last serviced, should you be driving if your glasses are that thick?
• Be patient and remember to stand fast; smile if you want, it’s all friendly banter.
That’s how we do, y’all. What a team; the auction started at 500 each – our final offer is two hundred. As the gavel comes down, a deal is done. Remember though; even at half what they ask for, there’s some serious profit to be had.
I’m a little rushed admittedly, not due to the two hour restraint the Tuk Tuk man has bestowed, but for the immense damage the sun is doing to my DNA. Maybe I should buy an umbrella to help, or maybe a Burka. Here’s my pick of the day’s shots.
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