Indiana Jonesing-it in Ayuthaya: Part II: A New Hope

Lady with her cocky pals

Back on the road in the decaying town of Ayuthaya I decide it's a fine idea to circle the perimeter of the town on my bike. I soon come to find that it's a bit larger then I'd imagined. Maybe I've bitten off more than I can chew? I'd sooner eat a handful of bat shit then give up! It's getting darker with each crank of the pedals and I'm not sporting any lights or reflectors. Of course I take the Ayuthaya Highway back. Cars and motorbikes whip past me, though it's more of a fast paced roadway than what I would think of as a highway. Heart thumping with adrenaline, I pedal like a maniac until I reach my next destination: the Ayuthaya Night Market.

Night sets in as I pedal on

Stalls of every variety explode with incredibly cheap goods. I bargain for some some sweet shades and stop into a riverside food operation for supper. That's where I meet Bob and Quan, a couple who own a home across the crocodile ridden waters of the river next to us. Bob comes from Holland and met Quan on a football club trip twenty odd years ago. They took a fancy to each other and the rest is history!

Thai kids watching a flick intently at a DVD stall

She's got a whole kitchen and restaurant on her shoulder!

The conversation begins when I ask the two for a food recommendation. Bob recommends the Yellow Crab Curry. It is as good as he claims! Bob tosses back a Chang, the local Thai beer, and tells me his story. He runs a screen printing store back in Rotterdam, and every chance he gets he and Quan return to Ayuthaya for a getaway. They have no internet or TV here. Sounds wonderful. Quan chips in enthusiastically every now and then. She makes up for her limited English with warmth. She's all smiles and bursting with love.

No pictures of Bob and Quan, but here's a monk watering a tree with some zebra statues in the background

Bob had a heart attack last year. He was legally dead for seventeen minutes. A friend of his, a French surgeon who just happened to be visiting the hospital he was growing cold in, performed a procedure (illegal in Holland) where he cracked open Bob's chest and hand pumped his heart back to life.

Now Bob's alive and well. He proudly sports a hefty rectangular electronic device beneath the skin over the left side of his chest. It regulates every single beat of his heart via satellite communication transmitted from doctors at some University far far away. He started at 60bpm, and now he's up to 70bpm. He informs me that when his heart rate is remotely increased a notch he feels pretty funny for a while.

Bob recounts to me what he saw when he died. Food for thought.

These gates pop up on the roads every now and again, the King's face is everywhere in Thailand and the people seem to love him like a big ol teddy bear (even if he's now too old to do much)

Later on I return the bike and head to B.J.'s guesthouse where I'm staying for the night. My room is literally upstairs from where B.J. lives with his entire family - wife, kids and grand kids. I wake up to the sound of my door handle being jiggled like a broken alarm at 5am. Rasping and wheezing follow.

I am in a haunted house in an ancient royal city in Thailand. The long dead Thai King Ramathibodi II has come back to reprimand me for disturbing his bat-kin inside his tomb. I reluctantly fall back asleep.

B.J., the dude who's house I slept in. The baby is borrowed for aesthetic purposes

Indiana-Jonesing it in Ayuthaya: Part I

Nothing wakes you up in the morning quite like flying towards oncoming traffic down a one way street in Bangkok on the back of a motorbike taxi with an oversized backpack in tow and travel guitar in hand. I arrive at the train station feeling like I just survived sky diving without a parachute.

The modern monk man awaits his train

After bidding a bittersweet goodbye to Bangkok, promising her I'll be back before too long, I coast an hour or so north on a train to Ayuthaya. A former capital of Thailand, the city was originally founded back in 1350 as the royal headquarters. The train chugs along past shanty towns hovering precariously over canal waters, and a seemingly endless series of cement pillars lovingly decked in some coolest street art I've ever seen.

I munched on some young mango for breakfast. A little bag of sugar and chili flakes is provided to counter the sour 

We've arrived! Ayuthaya is an island of sorts, flat and surrounded on all sides by rivers.  Countless crumbling temples cling to the arid landscape. I wonder what it all would have looked like during the city's heyday, with Thailand's king residing in one of these withering palaces. Peddling around from ruin to ruin on a rented bike (only $1.25 for a day, cheap cheap), I do what I can to explore every nook and cranny of the eroded orange brick temples.

When I asked to take a picture that dude gave me a handful of some strange plant pod and showed me how to eat it. It make my mouth all tingly and kind of numb. I ate some more

My favorite of all the ruins is the ancient royal palace, Wat Phra Si Saphet. Three enormous bell shaped chedi stand side by side in the center of the complex, while dozens of smaller stupas surround the perimeter. Some lean precariously to one side, flirting with gravity until they inevitably topple over.

A love letter from a leaning stupa: "Dear Gravity, I think I'm falling for you. Eternally yours, Stupa"

I pass a chain of tired looking elephants being ridden by some Chinese tourists. Elephant riding just isn't for me. The handlers control them by wielding sticks with metal hooks on their ends, and the elephants appear jaded, sad, and tired. It all just seems so -  parasitic.

For one day I'd like to see the elephants ride the handlers, see the tables turn, ya know?

Past the elephant path I enter the temple grounds and instantly go into Indiana-Jonesing-it mode. Curiosity bids me to climb around and see what secrets I might be able to unearth. These mysteries aren't going to unravel themselves you know! 

A hauntingly beautiful site from another ruin nearby

Chedi chedi bang bang

The central chedi is the only one who's door is open. Darkness beckons me to enter. As I stumble into the tomb, I notice the ground is blanketed with powdery little pellets that thicken with each step forward. The choking stench of ammonia oozes into my nostrils and I begin to hear something stirring up ahead. Or...somethings? I slowly creep inwards and peer up to hear the shrill squeaks and chirps of hundreds, perhaps thousands of bats. All of the winged pipsqueaks cling upside down and glare down at me as I've disturb their peaceful slumber. Maybe I'm the one who's upside down, staring down at them.

Bats and bats and bats and bats and bats

After I nearly pass out from the guano stank (I probably still smell like ammonia), I climb down the chedi and sit atop a nearby wall to render one of the mighty structures into my sketchbook. Time turns slippery when I go into drawing mode. Hours pass like minutes; I don't even seem to notice my hiney has gone numb after sitting on the bricks for so long.

My sketch for the day: a chedi sans the people posing for pictures constantly on its steps. Bwap!

Next I walk into the neighboring temple, this one the the biggest I've seen yet, fully decked out and full of Buddhists praying on their knees. It's comes complete with a towering Bronze Buddha figure that must be at least three stories tall. Am I intruding as I stroll into these temples? I am not Buddhist and know little of its traditions...to quote the great Wayne and Garth, "I'm not worthy!" Regardless, it's quite a sight to see.

That's a big ol Buddha right there