Thailand Day T+4

My liquid diet began today and I imagined myself doubling over with hunger pangs by the end of the day, attempting to suck the blood out of a stone. I made a note of what I was allowed to eat and decided to stock up at the supermarket in the giant shopping complex next door. If it was possible, I was going to get through the next two days at comfortably as possible and I had a plan. Usually, my plans are plans for disaster and I had no idea why I thought it would be different this time, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.


First one off the list was soy milk. This was an Asian country and so this should be simple, so I headed for the soy milk aisle. It indeed was a soy milk aisle. It was a very log aisle dedicated to nothing but soy milk... I nervously headed in, perusing the products trying to figure out what I wanted, it's true that sometimes too much choice is a bad thing. A nice sales rep started telling me, in Thai, about some wonderful product that had B1 and B2 vitamins, that was about all I could understand and I think she was talking about vitamins. I tried not to laugh at the silliness of the the situation as she tried to promote the product to me with me not understanding a thing (except B1 and B2 and I'm assuming she wasn't talking about bananas in pyjamas). She asked me a question and I had to come clean and tell her that I didn't understand Thai. I only had to say the first word and she giggled and smiled and stopped trying to sell her products to me.


I saw something in a bottle that looked like regular soy milk so I took a six pack. Regular people would have just taken a few, but I'm not normal and another lesson to be learned is not to go shopping when you're hungry and can't eat what you're used to. 


Clear soup was next on the list, surely I would be able to find this at this supermarket. When I finally managed to find the aisle that contained instant soups, I was disappointed to see that everything was a cream of something soup. I was almost happy to see miso soup but that came with either seaweed or tofu, neither of which was on my approved diet. Then a moment of inspiration dawned on me. I was right next to the instant noodle section and I could just make the clear soup base and not worry about the noodles. Actually, another Asian snack is the equivalent of broken up instant noodles by themselves eaten like chips, so  figures I could do that later too. Again, normal people would have taken a few loose packets, but they were the same brand that I could get back home and that's no fun. Instead, in my totally illogical state, I took three packs of six. 


A few more mundane items later and I was back at my hotel cooking up some instant noodle soup. Perhaps a chilli tom yum soup isn't the best thing to have as lunch on an empty stomach. I could feel the chilli at war with my stomach, but I wasn't about to let that keep me in the hotel room. This was going to be my last day of freedom before my operation and I was going to go out, no matter what.


I perused my Lonely Planet guide trying to decide what would make a good half day excursion. Picking up the hotel guide book, I saw a recommendation for the Siamese Fighting Fish Gallery. Sounded interesting I thought, so I looked up their website and wrote down their address. Directions on their side suggested crossing the river via a ferry and I decided I would try that on the way back and put up with the extended taxi ride on the way there.


Perhaps it was an omen that even the concierge didn't even know about a place that was recommended in their own hotel's guide book. I figured the problems of cross-language translation had struck again and several minutes later he reappeared from behind the counter with some Thai writing on a piece of paper. Hailing a taxi and explaining the directions, I jumped in the back.


I was glad to have a friendly driver who spoke some English. He was shy about his capability and wasn't sure I could understand him but I tried to assure him that his English was very good. In the meantime, he even helped me in my pronunciation of a few of the Thai neighbourhoods. Nervousness set in, however, when he asked about the temple I was going to. I tried explaining that I didn't want to go to a temple, but to a fish gallery but it didn't seem like he understood. At least the suburb and street were right so hopefully I'd be able to find it. 


Getting to the destination meant travelling south until we could cross a bridge across the main Chao Phraya river. I fell asleep, waking only to pay the toll for the freeway.


Waking again after we had crossed the river, it became obvious that my driver didn't know where he was going. He stopped to ask several locals about where this temple was and one of them was able to tell direct him in the general direction.
"Far, far", he said to me, getting back in his seat.
"Oh, ok", I said and we both laughed. My lagging brilliance struck me again and I decided to check the location on my iPhone. Despite slow reception, I was able to determine that we were heading in the right direction, but the final destination was in the middle of nowhere with not even a road on the map to mark it's location... hrmm...
"I've never been here before", explained my driver.
"It's new for both of us", I replied and we both laughed again.


Roadside scenery changed from suburban shops, to shanty towns to rainforest. We were still heading in the right direction but our taxi was starting to attract inquisitive glances from locals. Once again, my driver decided to check his directions and a couple of locals were unable to help although we finally managed to find one that reassured us that we were heading in the right direction. 
"Far, far", reiterated my driver as he got back in his seat. I didn't even have to reply this time for us to both laugh.


All the greenery was actually quite attractive and I wouldn't have minded exploring if I wasn't in a foreign country whose language I couldn't speak or understand and, to top it off, I didn't really know where I was. My driver kept continuing along the thinning dirt road when suddenly, the gates of a large buddhist temple appeared. My driver seemed overjoyed and turned in but he seemed more disappointed than I was in the fact that everything appeared to be shut and nobody seemed to be around. It did look like an impressive temple, or set of temple buildings, but this wasn't why I was here.
"No people. Where you want to go?", my driver asked.
"Keep going", I replied with a smile.
"Ok, up to you", he laughed.


Palm tree after palm tree passed our windows and then the gates of another temple appeared. I interjected before my driver turned in. 
"Keep going", I said.
"Up to you", he laughed again.


Another intersection came up ahead and this time I spotted the large sign proudly pointing to the "Siamese Fighting Fish Museum".
"Here, here!", I exclaimed excitedly to the driver.
"Oh! Museum, fishing, not temple", said my driver. I thought I had said that before but I obviously hadn't said it right. We were obviously both fatigued and missed the entrance completely and it took another local to send us back. But within a few minutes, we were inside and the driver had caught the attention of one the workers who became my personal tour guide.


My driver offered to wait for me as long as I would pay a tip and I graciously accepted because I had no idea how I would get back otherwise. At this point, I was glad I had decided to take a taxi here since coming across by boat would probably have ended up with me on the news back home.


My personal guide took me to the first building and showed be the directions of the other buildings I could go to after I finished walking through this one. Each fish was housed in its own little vase like tank complete with it's own little friendly plant. Each vase was separated by an appropriate amount since I assume that if the fish saw each other, they would flare up and begin to become aggressive.


At this point I must confess that I'm not a fish geek. I enjoy watching them flit about and admiring their grace and beauty  but I don't remember what they are called, let alone their characteristics or habitats. Actually, I'm a bit like that with people and just tend to take things for what they are presented in front of me. So, if I ever forget your name, you'll now know why....


As I proceeded out of the first building, I took a detour around a little lake before heading into the second. A hedge was trimmed neatly at the edge of the lake, the bushes carved into what I can only imagine was the name of the museum in Thai. As I was admiring the handiwork, the resident mosquitoes took this as their opportunity to have dinner on imported legs.

The second and third buildings housed more fish and I took my time admiring the uniqueness and beauty of each one. There were other non-aggressive schooling fish housed in these areas too and I watched them all swim gracefully in formation.


One tank housed a particularly large pale fish and both my guide and I took turns teasing by waving our fingers just in front of the glass and giggling as the fish opened it's huge mouth expecting a feast of something. 


Fish weren't the only attraction however, and there were a couple of shrines set up to previous kings such as King Taksin the Great and there was also a large Buddha which we both bowed to in respect as we walked past.


At the end of the third building, was a little path leading to a cute little bridge crossing over a lake. It was the sort of bridge that, given a morning sunrise and some fog, would have been the perfect setting for a Chinese love tragedy story. 


"Future", said my guide, pointing to the area beyond the bridge. A worker appeared to be preparing the landscape for the future renovations. 
"How long?", I asked and she began counting on her fingers.
"Three months", she replied. 
"Oh", I nodded, wondering whether their concept of months and schedules was the same as mine.


We walked back to the taxi where the driver was squatting off to the side having a smoke. They exchanged some words in Thai and the guide thanked me.
"Kop Kun Ka", I replied. Thank you. The driver asked her something in Thai and she thought about it for a second and then replied to me, "You're welcome." I smiled and waved and took my seat back in the taxi.

"Back to hotel?", asked the driver.
"Yes", I replied. For some reason, I was still to chicken to ever say "Chai", yes. 
The driver smiled and we drove off. 
"Nice forest", remarked the driver as the palm trees engulfed the sides of the roads again. I agreed and peered out the window before falling asleep. I was glad to be in the taxi on the way back and was feeling somewhat relieved that my earlier plan to try and catch a ferry back had not been attempted. Once again I awoke only to pay the toll for the freeway and soon enough we were back at the hotel. The taxi journey had been a long one and the fare was relatively large as far as Thai taxi fares go. I decided therefore, to give him a relatively large tip also.
"Kop Kun mak mak", I said as I handed him a note. Thank you very much. 
"How much do you want to give as tip?", he asked.
"All for you", I replied smiling. His jovial manner brightened even further upon hearing this.
"Thank you. Thank you. I take you to see other other temples next week?", he offered. 
"Uhm, not next week", I replied thinking about my surgery dates.
"I give you my card. Call me if you need taxi. I call you too, to take you to see temples?" 
Next thing I knew, I had exchanged telephone numbers with a taxi driver.. hrmm... 


Was it worth the travel to go to the fish museum? I don't know, but sometimes the journey is more interesting than the destination. Enjoy the ride I guess and that is a mantra that I'm learning to take on even more each day.


I headed back upstairs to my room to await the dreaded time when I would have to being my preparations for surgery in a couple of days time. Tonight began with a self administered enema. I'll spare everyone the details, but it was potent and I felt like it would have been more comfortable if my entire insides had been passed out. 


Ok, so sometimes there are parts of the journey that are difficult to enjoy.