Travel
A Tale of Two Cities
ARTHUR PEACH
Fall 2008 |
Our plan was to spend the first (spring-like) week of March in Hong Kong, most of March to April 10 in Bangkok—just before the wet season and where the temperatures average 35 C year round—and the last few days back in Hong Kong when the daytime temperatures were warming upwards to 25 C.
Although quite different physically, many comparisons can be made of these huge, but in many ways most human and intimate, conglomerations of communities.
With sophisticated and varied transit systems, both have new international airports with integrated train connections to their respective city centres, high standards of traveller services that almost make them tourist destinations in themselves.
Both cities boast a number of multi-level shopping, entertainment and service complexes concentrated in the city centres, not in the suburbs as is the North American model. Alive with people at all hours of the day and night, they can contain great subterranean aquariums, real snow slopes for skiing and boarding, and even luxury car showrooms surrounding a great, light filled atrium. Fine dining establishments with overlooks to spectacular harbour views are not uncommon in Hong Kong, as are teeming avenue scenes with elevated skytrains gliding by within a stone’s throw outside high and wide restaurant windows in Bangkok.
While the restaurants in the big, glossy hotels and department stores of each city have their own distinctive attractions, in the quantity of food offerings, the luxurious surround, and superb service, it was the smaller neighbourhood establishments that gained the greatest favour with us. A number we became familiar with in Bangkok stood out for their ambiance, friendliness, authenticity and especially the food.
During our few weeks in Bangkok, living with our son and family, we frequently travelled from their suburban apartment into town either by taxi or the Chao Phraya River express transit boat. After a full day of touring the sights of the big city, we usually stopped at an open-air, floating restaurant on the side of the river near the boat station. Two or three shared dishes such as shrimp and noodles, chicken with vegetables, done up in hot Thai style accompanied by a glass of wine and a litre of Singha beer were more than enough to satisfy the two of us, for a total cost of 300 Baht or $10.
With temperatures moderating to a comfortable 30 C, a gentle breeze off the river, the motion of the floating platform, the view of the river as boat traffic passed by, the Oriental sun setting behind the dense tree growth on the other side, the live music provided by locals doing karaoke or with a small band, all combined to make us linger into the evening.
Then our cell would ring and it would be our son calling to inquire where we were and when would we be home. (A bit of role reversal here. “It’s 10 o’clock, do you know where your parents are?”) We would then amble down to the taxi circle at the other end of the waterfront promenade where entrepreneurial families had set up small outdoor shops and eating places for the evening. They dispensed everything one would ever need or want along with street food being cooked on portable stoves and woks, and served to small groups of patrons.
A weekend excursion to the world famous beaches of Phuket was one of the many highlights of our time in Thailand. Its reputation is well founded in the reality we encountered. The broad, fine sand surfaces, the sea and sky receding into the forever distance suggested no evidence of the day in December 2004 when the tsunami changed their world.
One dining room server was the only person to reluctantly give us impressions of the event, and then only to the extent of showing us how high the wave came over the hotel floor. The Thai people bore their sorrows stoically, fixed things and looked forward to welcoming again visitors from around the world.
Happy hour on our last afternoon before departing to Canada was spent in the spectacular Felix Lounge at the top of the legendary Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong. It’s a series of spaces designed to startle, titillate and anticipate, but it was the men’s room that was truly sensational.
I’ll recall for a long time the huge floor to ceiling mirrors, the sheer silk draperies, the marble table cum sink upon which are set amorphous sculptures – the taps and dryers, and the pièce de resistance, behind another flowing drapery, three free-standing, chest-high urinals carved in black marble inferential of lotus forms, all positioned in front of a vast window wall enabling the user to experience one of the best views of the harbour far below. What a memorably dramatic way to answer the call of nature!
As suggested previously, Hong Kong Airport and its environs could very well be a tourist destination. So, on our last day there we decided to test the theory and arrived three hours before the scheduled departure time. A high-end shopping mall on the departure concourse, lunch at one of the many very good restaurants providing excellent choice, quality and value, as well as a great view of the airfield activity turned out to be an enjoyable, relaxing interlude.
Then, it was on to the Triple 7 for the 15-hour non-stop, over the pole to Toronto.
