I wonder what it would be like to stay in a Bangkok hotel like the big name ones along Sukhumvit Road or Silom. Long graceful driveways, fancy metal work or bamboo logos, heavy plant pots and palm trees adorning the driveway, Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs lining the walkway (maybe even a Toyota Land Cruiser and Range Rover are allowed, as long as there are only two), big polished brass framed doors, guarded by country boys dressed up like cruise ship captains, low lighting inside, fawning greeters, million-watt smiles, heavy teak (“reclaimed,” of course) check-in desks, shimmering tile floors, whisper quiet elevators, colourful embroidered passcard holders, luxurious linens and silks on the bed, complimentary guest basket . . .
I’ve never been in the world famous Oriental Bangkok on the Chao Phraya River but this is how I imagine things to be. Have a look at the hotel’s web site photo player. Decadent, eh? Wouldn’t you like to sit at the windows shown in the photo montage and gaze at the river day or night. Looks beautiful indeed.
Now how many of those guests get out onto the street and mix with the locals? A few, I would imagine. Yet I can see how sitting in these beautiful surroundings would be very satisfying and comfortable and habit forming. But everyone has to get out of the hotel once or twice and I can imagine these folks would move by private car to the flower market or Emerald Buddha or jazz club at Victory Monument or Silom. And watch out the window of the Merc and see and smell the food carts and moto taxis and open sewers. Then again, most German sedans have air filtration systems, so maybe the passengers would be insulated from the real world just outside the tempered, sun-shielded, double-paned glass.
At the Oriental, a 40 square metre “cheap” room is $365 U.S. a night, or about 12,000 baht. My room on soi 19 (Honey Hotel) is $27 or 900 baht. It’s very decent actually. Central to everything and I walk. Prefer to walk. Prefer to experience things firsthand, such as getting a whiff of a wok full of chillis, or khao muu daeng (barbecue pork and rice) , or coffee sludge from a street cart, Or ducking and diving among moto taxis, or taking in the figure of a slim, brown-skinned Thai beauty, and should I be half asleep while walking, nothing quite wakes me up like a good wallop of a nearby khlong.
I was reminded of all this by two things. I attended the screening of an archival print of a 1932 film, Shanghai Express, starring Marlene Dietrich (Cinematheque series). When she enters a scene in dirtiest Beijing (or “Peiping,” in the movie), she arrives with just the most outlandish feathers, black gown and dainty hat and face veil one could ever imagine. Scene after scene she pulls clothes from what is truly the most inappropriate travelling wardrobe for a hot, dirty, arduous trip through civil war China. Her fellow travellers wear, layers and layers of clothing, medals, hats and whips, reflecting their wealth and political status.
The second thing I saw was a transit shelter ad that said: Be a traveller, not a tourist. Lonely Planet, you might think? National Geographic subscription? Train travel? Nope. An ad for a credit card giant that starts with the letter “A” and is often used to describe a nationality from North America.
I’m not at all sure what the difference is between traveller and tourist. But I would think that if you need a credit card for all your travels, we won’t be seeing each other on the street.
Now how many of those guests get out onto the street and mix with the locals? A few, I would imagine. Yet I can see how sitting in these beautiful surroundings would be very satisfying and comfortable and habit forming. But everyone has to get out of the hotel once or twice and I can imagine these folks would move by private car to the flower market or Emerald Buddha or jazz club at Victory Monument or Silom. And watch out the window of the Merc and see and smell the food carts and moto taxis and open sewers. Then again, most German sedans have air filtration systems, so maybe the passengers would be insulated from the real world just outside the tempered, sun-shielded, double-paned glass.
At the Oriental, a 40 square metre “cheap” room is $365 U.S. a night, or about 12,000 baht. My room on soi 19 (Honey Hotel) is $27 or 900 baht. It’s very decent actually. Central to everything and I walk. Prefer to walk. Prefer to experience things firsthand, such as getting a whiff of a wok full of chillis, or khao muu daeng (barbecue pork and rice) , or coffee sludge from a street cart, Or ducking and diving among moto taxis, or taking in the figure of a slim, brown-skinned Thai beauty, and should I be half asleep while walking, nothing quite wakes me up like a good wallop of a nearby khlong.
I was reminded of all this by two things. I attended the screening of an archival print of a 1932 film, Shanghai Express, starring Marlene Dietrich (Cinematheque series). When she enters a scene in dirtiest Beijing (or “Peiping,” in the movie), she arrives with just the most outlandish feathers, black gown and dainty hat and face veil one could ever imagine. Scene after scene she pulls clothes from what is truly the most inappropriate travelling wardrobe for a hot, dirty, arduous trip through civil war China. Her fellow travellers wear, layers and layers of clothing, medals, hats and whips, reflecting their wealth and political status.
The second thing I saw was a transit shelter ad that said: Be a traveller, not a tourist. Lonely Planet, you might think? National Geographic subscription? Train travel? Nope. An ad for a credit card giant that starts with the letter “A” and is often used to describe a nationality from North America.
I’m not at all sure what the difference is between traveller and tourist. But I would think that if you need a credit card for all your travels, we won’t be seeing each other on the street.
