Siam

In the morning, we took a tuk-tuk to the Friendship Bridge, crossed back into Nong Khai in Thailand, and, unfortunately, ended back up in Udan Thanee, a place I never hoped to go again. We didn’t have a choice, though, so we had lunch in town before taking a bus to Ayutthaya, the second Siamese capital after Sukothai and another city filled with ancient ruins. At midnight, we were dropped off about 15 minutes outside of the city. We were being ripped off again, but we were stranded with no where to go. A tuk-tuk driver wanted to charge us 300 baht to take us into the city, when it would only cost 20 baht to take a bus there the following morning. So we decided to stay where we were, and he convinced us that the hotel he would take us to was far away and charged us 60 baht to take us there. It turns out it was only a block away, and the hotel was very expensive for the dirty state its rooms were in. But, alas, it was a bed to sleep in, and in the morning, we walked around a small courtyard where vendors sold food before getting on the public bus into town.

We found an expensive but very nice guest house (It was called the P.U. Inn, but didn't smell--it was actually quite clean) where we ate lunch (green curry and a watermelon shake) and then rented bikes to go check out the ruins. It wasn’t as cool as biking in Sukothai, because the ruins were interspersed throughout the new city, so it wasn’t as peaceful and empty, and we did have to cross busy streets to follow the recommended biking path. But it was beautiful—crumbling red-brick stupas and Buddhas with their heads knocked off but bright flowers in their laps. I made a 20 baht offering at one of the temples, where I placed a flower on the altar, lit a candle and incense, and put a gold leaf on the left knee of a Buddha statue, asking for the healing after Scott’s knee surgery to go well.  I remember that day being very hot, but the sunlight on the temple ruins brought out so much color.  As beautiful as the ruins were, though, they are remnants of a terrible time in Siamese history, when the Burmese invaded, destroying their temples and raping, enslaving, and killing their people.  You can't stand in front of the headless Buddhas without silence and respect.

My journal from our time in Ayutthaya is sparse because I was playing catch-up, but I do remember drinking a Coke in a gazebo overlooking the water, where brilliant flowers hung from willowy trees; costumed elephants walking by and a baby elephant chained to a post; biking past the ruins as the sun set, silhouetting them against the sky; checking out a small market within temple grounds; and having a long talk with Malone that evening over dinner and beer, one where secrets were revealed and I realized just how close we were getting as we traveled together, far from home.