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The day after Chatuchak, Mary and I decided we needed things to be a bit more calm than bustling Bangkok (because busy Bangkok bodies blasting by bade better backpacking bloopers bussing by boundaries to Kanchanburi).

Kanchanburi is where the Bridge over the River Kwai (and, not coincidentally, the river kwai itself) rests, but also happens to be relatively close to Erawan National Park wherein lie some beautiful waterfalls. We also heard tale of elephant riding and river rafting adventures.

The bus ride was easy enough and took about 2 hours. Upon arrival we were bombarded by the typical riff-raff looking for baht to taxi us to our guest house. Luckily we were smart enough to know that a safe Saamlaw with benches and doors was no place for people who had been traveling for 7 whole days and knew better than to get ripped off by some jerk with seat-belts.

Caution just wouldn’t do, so for 50 baht instead of 100 baht we found a guy who had a motor bike, some rickety old boards, a half-broken lawn chair, duct tape, and a little engineering know-how (you get engineering know-how from Legos, right?). He was very nice, somehow stacked our backpacks on his contraption, and drove slow enough that I probably wouldn’t have been in the hospital for more than a few days if I fell off.

Arriving unscathed we checked into our bungalow at Sam’s House and were stoked. The room was small but clean with a decent bed and A/C. It sat in a row of bungalows set atop pillars jutting from the river and would make a cozy and convenient base-camp for our Kanchanburi activities.

Our first order of business was to find some food and on recommendation from Sam’s House, headed to a place called Thai-Thai. It was delicious and cheap, and had free wi-fi. Who could complain? We powered down our lunch then Mary caught site of place across the street offering fish massage.

I wasn’t quite sure where exactly Mary had gotten a fish, or why on earth she’d want to have someone massage it, but I followed along as the owner of the shop (who also happened to be the waitress and cashier where we just ate) excitedly ushered us in.

For those of you not in the know, a fish massage is a very ticklish activity involving hundreds of nemo-sized fish. You wash your feet, step up onto a bench, and then plunge your legs into their tank. They immediately swarm to your feet and begin testing your reflexes and bladder control as they nibble away at the dead skin.

I can’t say that when the fish were done doing their thing I noticed a huge difference in how my feet felt, but since it was just the prequel to an hour long foot massage I wasn’t going to complain. After 60 minutes of elderly Thai women treating our feet like two salamis in need of physical therapy, Mary and I decided to rent some bikes and pedal to the bridge to finish off our first day at Kanchanburi.

The bike ride was only a few minutes and on a fairly serene street. As we pulled up to the bridge the sun was lowering in the sky and making for some really nice scenery. After snapping some photos we set off to cross the bridge.

Nearly at the other side of the river we caught wind of some mumblings that a train was coming. I arrogantly told Mary “Please, there is no way that they still run trains across this thing!” TOOT TOOT. In fact, there it came. We scootched to one of the platforms on the side of the bridge and watched as the train came and went. It’s used only for tourist purposes these days, but it’s amazing to think that 60 years ago this was one of the main trade lines for the Japanese.

That night we headed a bit further past Thai-thai’s for dinner after returning our bikes and had some good old fashion pizza…made by a Swiss guy. Whatever. At this point we were a bit tired of Thai food and just wanted to change things up a bit. The food was quite good and we headed back to Sam’s House on full stomachs, and ready for a good night’s sleep after a great first day in Kanchanburi.

After spending the previous day looking at temples, and having not done any shopping, Mary’s bargain-bone started tickling her. We’d heard some really great things about the Chatuchak market and decided to check it out on Saturday afternoon.

We hopped on the skytrain and headed North. The commute was easy and uneventful even though we were slightly unsure of which way to turn upon exiting the train. This dilemma was quickly solved by the gaggle of people streaming down the sidewalks in our general direction. We walked upstream.

It was almost 2 pm by the time we officially decided we were in the right place, and also very hungry. Luckily the first street we turned down (sort of an artery into the main market area) offered a great little sidewalk cafe.

When I say sidewalk cafe I mean it in the most literal sense. These are found all over Thailand and consist of some cheap plastic chairs and tables on the sidewalk next to some sort of food cart, and in this case two portable stoves with huge steaming pots on them. Our decision to eat here was based largely on the population of the cafe gentry: Thai.

The food proved delicious – some sort of pork ball in a spicy soup broth that had me licking chops and chopsticks alike. This lot for both of us plus a couple of waters cost roughly $4.

On full bellies we headed into the market. Going into this situation I knew I was in for a lot of looking, waiting, and giving my opinion as Mary proclaimed each shop better than the last! I tried to remind her that we only had what space was left in our backpacks to which she happily replied that she noticed I had more than enough space in my pack should she run out of room.

Mary picked up a black dress and a pair of what I can only describe as ‘Hammer Pants with an apron sewn on the front,’ and I bought some rice cakes from a lady on the street. I thought they were going to be coconut.

I can’t explain the disappointment in biting into something expecting a coconut taste and getting a rice taste, other than saying if it were my child it would have issues once it grew up. I left the extras somewhere in a vendor’s market stall.

A few hours had passed and after a quick restroom stop that would’ve put most US highway gas stations to shame, we started to make our way out of the market. Luckily, we passed another stall that caught Mary’s eye!

I told her I was going to head around the corner to browse on my own – grumpy partly that I had to wait for her again, but mostly because I hadn’t found anything to buy for myself.

Darting out of the stall I took a quick left and took maybe 5 steps when I instantly saw my treasure. Like a weathered fisherman spotting a lighthouse in the perfect storm, or a drunk guy spotting a Denny’s at the height of an all night drunk, it practically sang out to me.

Hanging from the tips of a shabby table umbrella was a white t-shirt, depicting Robocop. But not the disciplined and principled kill-machine Robocop you and I know. No, this Robocop is different. He’s obese and happily munching on a donut, coffee in his opposite hand, and smiling merrily as his waist-line heaves with the girth of his rotund belly. $1. I didn’t even bother to try to negotiate.

I can’t even remember what happened the rest of the day I was so excited! Mary got something else, not as cool as my shirt, and we took the train back, to our room for our last night in Bangkok.

Our hotel includes a free half-day tour of guest’s choice of 3 sights in Bangkok and we chose to go see the major temples – I tried haggling them into paying usto go on the tour since I read that everything is negotiable, but it fell on deaf on ears. Our guide Jean met us in front of the hotel and off we went.

The first stop was Temple of the Dawn – which I thought would be filled with dish-washing detergent since the outside of it is completely covered in broken dishes – but surprisingly it was just some hundred-year-old temple!

Apparently King Rama (don’t ask me which number) had a bunch of porcelain dishware imported from China and since bubble wrap hadn’t been invented yet, much of it broke. The king, in what must have been the first ever green initiative, decided to have a temple constructed and decorated with the shattered bits. Eat your heart out Al Gore.

It was very cool to see the designs up close, but also interesting to learn that the temple was about 120 years old. Initially I thought it would be much more ancient. It made the temple no less ornate, however, and the gradient of the steps made for a heart-pounding climb for more reasons than one!

This would be one of many times that Mary and I are happy we’re on our travels now. When we retire knees and ankles would fare no better than the porcelain shipped from China on climbs like this!

We moved on to Wat Pho where the reclining Buddah…reclines. He is truly massive! Covered in some ridiculous amount of gold leaf made from real gold, it was enough to make an old prospector bang his pots and pans with excitement! Not to mention the feet inlaid with mother of pearl.

Mostly I was taking pictures during this part of the tour so I wasn’t paying very close attention to the guide. The whole lot is very impressive and it was also interesting to see Buddhists paying their respects in traditional fashion. This involves kneeling with legs together and feet pointing away from the Buddah shrine, and then bowing from the waist to the floor.

I am convinced that if Americans had to do this activity it would put a large percentage of the larger ones in the hospital – it is no small flexible feat (it does however require flexible feet).

After Wat Pho we moved on to the final site which was a more modern temple constructed of marble rather than stone – keeping the temple

much more cool in the heat and humidity of Thailand. Again a Buddah shrine was contained therein.

The temples offer a great opportunity to get away from the hustle of Bangkok and reflect on a very peaceful religion while taking in some beautifully ornate detail and history at the same time.

Once our tour was over we headed back to the hotel and, due to traffic it took a while. Late for the dinner we had schedule with Mark, his wife Boon, their son, and his wife’s mom, Mary and I arrived hungry.

They took us to a traditional Thai restaurant where Boon’s mom practically force fed us some delicious delicacies until we nearly popped! I’d blame Thailand’s very friendly and caring attitude towards visitors for my expanded belly, but I’d be lying if I told you I tried my hardest to refuse the second helpings.

Next on the agenda, the Chatuchak weekend market!