Millenium Travel Pt 5

29/1/02 - Sparrows fart/ Kanchanaburi

It’s the crack of dawn and I’m up and about (what’s wrong with this equation…ah yes that’s it, I’m up and about!). The IT is about to sample a “travel by elephant” experience. You may be thinking to yourself, “Self, what’s so special about an elephant ride?”

“Sure c’mere an I’ll tell ye.” Says I. For me, the elephant is one of the most exotic animals there is. Apart from being one of the largest, strongest mammals on the planet, (blue whale not withstanding) and, the mammal that helped Hannibal (circa, 218-202 BC) cross the Alps with the thought of whipping the Romans ancient butts, they are incredibly interesting animals.

When I look at an elephant* I see a creature as old as time with a look on its face which states, “well, if I knew then, what I know now…things would be different I can tell you!”

*Obviously I only really did this for the first time today. I did go to the elephant house at the Zoo once but they were disinclined to acquiesce to an audience with the great human unwashed…in other words, they wouldn’t come out of the enclosure.

At this point I should like to point out that if anyone from the BBC/Discovery channel happens to read this little missive, I’m available to take part in any narration/filming of animal doco. I love animals, I really do…except maybe cockroaches. Can someone please explain to me the reason for cockroaches? I mean, what purpose do they actually serve (apart from giving most people the heebie jeebies) and why, why, why (sorry, Esther Rantzan “That’s Life” moment,1973-1994, classic British T.V. Blimey I’m showing my age now so I am) do they deserve to be one of the very few creatures that will be able to survive a nuclear attack (or disaster based on human error which is probably more likely!).

Anyway, I digress, again, which I do quite regularly, you will get used to it I’m sure. Now, where were we, ah yes, the elephant ride. Interesting mode of transport your average elephant, as a horse rider I have to say I wouldn’t fancy trying to stop one if it decided it wanted to run free. What I found really odd, apart from the fact that the concrete jungle I have become accustomed to has been replaced by an actual real green Tarzanesque* jungle…complete with wild animals…one of which I happen to be sitting on the back of, which, for the record isn’t something your average Belfast woman does on a regular basis!, is the fact that both the elephant and the little dude who appears to be in charge of the elephant, are competing to see who can grab the juiciest leaves of the trees as we pass. The elephant, as you may imagine, intends to ingest said leaf whereas the “little dude” appears to be rolling his and smoking it! Hhmmm, interesting, must investigate further.

*Tarzan the Ape Man, 1932 – Olympic swimmer Johnny Weissmuller apparently produced the famous Tarzan yodel we have all come to know and love.

In case some of you are at this point thinking about illegal smoking substances, let me remind you that we are in Thailand, home of the Bangkok Hilton. In movie metaphor land I’m talking “Midnight Express, 1978 – replace Turkey with Thailand. Moral message “Don’t indulge kids”! Crazy idea you would think…wouldn’t you? More on this later!

Our friendly neighbourhood elephant deposited us by a beautiful, quiet, calm river which we proceeded along by bamboo raft. The ride itself was very peaceful and serene. I felt a bit like Katharine Hepburn in “The African Queen”, 1951 (from the 1935 novel from C.S. Forester) but without Humphrey Bogart, the leeches, the torrential rain and of course the German soldiers. Sorry digressing again.

Our jungle experience came to an abrupt ending when we were kicked off the raft and left by a petrol station, in the arse end of nowhere, to await our guide. To add insult to injury they, as in the petrol station employees,’ attempted to fleece us again for a can of juice, I mean, 30bt for a juice…that’s a whole 50p that is. I can get a tuk tuk* to Khao San Rd for 60bt for goodness sake! We have decided that we are on an economy drive, TC’s culture starting to rub off (have you guessed what it is yet? as Mr R Harris would've said, if he was not currently spending time at her Majesties pleasure). Well, we've been travelling a week already and of course when you have to pay for accommodation EVERY night, one can’t be too careful can one? See, turning into tight backpacker and English upper class twit, I am becoming an oxymoron…I wonder if the chemist has anything for that?

*Tuk Tuk, small open sided vehicle driven by mad manic Thai person.

When we were finally picked up by our guide we went for lunch and I was delighted to come into contact with my first monkey* It was of the “small grey monkey” family and was, for me, another big reminder that I had indeed gone “forn” (this word must be read with a Belfast accent then you will understand). Our Asian body sized lunch (veg and rice) behind us, TC and I took a trip on the death railway**

*The first of many on this trip…and not all necessarily of the hairy non-speaking primate kind either!

**Named for the amount of POW’s killed while building it and not, as I assumed at the time, because of the 3,000,000ft drop down a craggy cliff face to certain death at the bottom although, I’m sure whoever named it thusly took aforementioned drop into consideration…I’m sure I would.

I would just like to add at this point that, while we were waiting for the train, we encountered quite a few wee saffron robed persons looking very Dalai Lama like in orientation although…do proper monks wear socks and carry video cameras? Was I wrong to expect cymbals and chanting? Takes all sorts I suppose. Travel really does broaden the mind, but not the waistband…I think I am definitely well on the way to size velly velly rittle*.

*Apologies for very bad stereotyping of Asian way of speaking.

Same day – Mountain Museum somewhere near Hell Fire Pass

The next stage of our day took us to a place called “Hell Fire Pass”*. Before embarking on the trek to the pass, TC and I made our way round the museum (WWII) and watched a short documentary on the liberation of the POW’s in the area. Ok people I am about to become very serious in my description of the sights, sounds (or lack of them) and feelings that I experienced while in this area. I don’t do this very often as I do try to look at the world in a humerous fashion however, sometimes that is just not possible.

*A pass blasted straight through the mountains creating a more direct route for the Burma railway. Built by the POW’s who worked 24/7. The prisoners literally worked at night using bamboo torches so as to complete the railway on schedule…hence the name Hell Fire.

Firstly, the museum itself offered very little in the way of exciting artifacts. More rifles, a few medals and some rivets and bolts from the railway, uninspiring you might say. At this stage I was not feeling particularly moved nor, as happens when I’m around places or objects of antiquity, did I have that feeling of awe which leads to a perceived idea of what it felt like to be part of the environment or situation of the time.

As we moved through the museum we followed the corridor to the screening room and there, in the dark, for the next seven minutes I began to experience the emotions which would stay with me for quite some time.

On the screen I watched as line after line of emaciated men stood beside the same rusty train carriages as I had seen in Kanchanaburi. I looked at their faces and felt the despair that I saw etched there. Although this was photo graphical evidence of their emancipation, there was no joy, relief or excited anticipation of returning home. Instead, all that was visible to me was misery and confusion. The men that were staring out at me from their celluloid window gave me a glimpse of what it looks like to have lost all hope, faith and joy. I grew up in a country that was gripped in what some have referred to as “civil war”, (I say some because as far as I’m aware, neither my peers, family nor colleagues ever thought of life in Belfast in this way. It was what it was and, when I think of civil war, I always picture Iraq or Afghanistan which are areas that I considered to be a lot worse off than Belfast.) I can honestly say that I have been fortunate enough to never have felt such a total absence of hope.

As we trekked through the jungle towards Hell Fire Pass I am thinking, “How on earth did these poor men keep going?” The heat and humidity are unbearable and we are not even here at the hottest time of the year. As well as the climate, these Australasian warriors* also had to cope with dysentery, malaria and many other diseases which are equally as unpleasant. What struck me as we neared the pass was the silence. If any of you have experienced a jungle, forest or countryside environment you will have noticed how incredibly noisy it can be…lack of people and vehicles doth not the silence make. So the lack of insect, bird or reptile noise made for a very eerie atmos. The pass itself was silent as the grave and I have only experienced this type of stillness once before, in the WWI memorial park at the Somme in France. It’s as if all things, with a natural capacity for life and living, have deserted these places due to the essence of pain, horror and evil left behind by the thoughts and deeds carried out by one group of humans towards another.

As a species I do wonder where we get off and I do not believe for one minute that we are the most intelligent of all living things. The most destructive, yes, the most arrogant, yes, the greediest most self absorbed egocentric creatures around, yes, yes and thrice yes. Let’s face it, in developmental life stages your average human is in the 0-6yrs old, “all about me” phase. Heaven help the world if we ever reach the equivalence of adolescence! Ok Universe, put the cosmic car keys right out of reach and empty the drinks cabinet. The human race in general is not to be trusted.

Hell Fire Pass During WWll

Hell Fire pass Today

*Most of the soldiers where from Australia and New Zealand.

So, heavy laden with so much despair, TC suggests that we move to another raft house. The saving of another 0.03p per night has lifted our spirits tolerably (see how fickle we are) and we are now within walking distance of the bus station (always a bonus). We have come to the conclusion that a trip to anywhere that does not involve war, famine or human suffering is on the cards and have therefore opted to visit a set of waterfalls somewhere in the vicinity which requires a trip on local transport (go the bus station). The Plan for the evening is as follows; a beer or two, a movie in communal guest area and bed. The IT sleeps safe in the knowledge that a saving of o.o6p per night in accommodation costs has been attained.

N.B. So, how did these chain of events change my life as I knew it? 

In the space of one day I understood AGAIN how lucky we "post war people" are and felt gratitude for the life I was able to have thanks to the people who fought and died to make it so...AND I SAW AN ELEPHANT AND  MONKEY :)