Acting as a pair of bookends, a March trip–east to India–and a November trip–west to Thailand–took me to destinations about as far from Chicago as you can get in opposite directions. Yet, since the world isn’t flat, I ended up in places that on a global scale were almost next door to each other.
There were a few other trips during the year. But those were the biggies. So you might say 2000 was the year I was driven–literally–to see Asia.
Rules of the road: You can see a lot more from a car than a tour bus, but don’t even think about doing your own driving in most of Asia. Especially India. You’ve probably heard about the sacred cows languidly lounging on the roads. They’re not alone. Camels, elephants, horses, water buffaloes, pigs, goats, dogs–not to mention dancing bears (no joke), chickens and one low-flying peacock (which on the road to Agra, alas, didn’t make it to the other side)–are all there, either on their own or pulling something. Then there are the trucks and buses and cars and bikes and carts, all weaving in and out of traffic (animal, human and otherwise) on roads that range from passable to awful in a terrific and terrifying imitation of a berserk video road game.
Hire a driver, and close your eyes, if you can.
Least recommended drive: New Delhi to Jaipur (or anywhere in India) at night. There seems to be an unwritten rule that all trucks must operate without tail lights or reflectors, and when they break down–which they do, a lot–they must be fixed on the spot, even if that spot is the middle of the passing lane on one of India’s rare divided highways.
The most-of-just-about-everything country: India. OK, so traffic is horrendous, hawkers and beggars are persistent, and the overcrowding and poverty can grind down even a seasoned traveler. But where else on Earth can you see so much history and grandeur and–yes–beauty in one relatively small space?
If you go to India, you just have to give up on the idea that you can see everything, because you can’t–unless you have a few years to spare. The whole country is a spectacle. In our mad, 10-day dash to see as much as we could of northern India, we passed dozens of forts, palaces, walled cities, temples and shrines–places that would have been big-deal destinations anywhere else in the world–with barely a glance.
But we did see the old Delhi of the moguls and the New Delhi of the British Raj, Amber Palace and the Palace of the Winds in the “pink city” of Jaipur, Ranthambore National Park (famed for its tigers–we saw only tracks), the abandoned city of Fatehpur Sikri, the fortress palaces of Gwalior, the quiet little town of Orchha, the “love temples” of Khajuraho, the sun rising over the Ganges River in the holy city of Varanasi, the Agra Fort and, of course…
The must-see place for every serious world traveler: The Taj Mahal. A few years ago, the Tribune picked this as one of the modern Seven Wonders of Man. We weren’t wrong.
Family matters: I traveled with Christie, my kid sister from California, as a late replacement for her girlfriend who had to cancel six weeks before the trip. We made it clear to all our guides that we were brother-sister not husband-wife–and as a result got the PG-rated version of the Kamasutra-style carvings in Khajuraho rather than the steamier tale reserved for married couples and single men.
The joy of letting someone else do all the work: One of the “honors” of being a travel editor is that when you travel with friends it’s sort of expected that you will take care of the planning. In this case, though, Christie had done all the work before I came aboard. In her own L.A. backyard, she found one of the leading India travel experts in the United States (Ceylon Express International; 714-964-6896; www.ceylonexpress.com), which set up a budget-minded personalized, independent tour. The cost–including two internal flights, two short rail trips, nine nights in quite acceptable “moderate” hotels, admissions, private car/driver and excellent guides–was $1,435 each, about what you’d pay for a comparable bus tour with 40 other travelers. (We arranged our air to India separately.)
The other direction: In Thailand, I also was driven–on a five-day trip into the country’s central and northeast regions. Sure, Westerners could drive in Thailand (at least, outside of Bangkok and other main cities); the roads are generally good to excellent and the roadside menagerie tame compared to India. But the driving on the left (as in India) and the Thai driving style (too close for comfort, and fast) scares away most of us sensible ones. Besides, the point of this drive around some of the least-visited areas of Thailand wasn’t to get from Point A to Point B. Rather, the trip was the trip.
Five for the road: I’ve been coming to Thailand almost annually for a dozen years, so my guide/driver in Chiang Mai was no stranger. I’d first met Sonn 10 years ago through friends who’d toured with him and raved about the experience. On five trips back since then, Sonn had shown me around Chiang Mai and led me on extended driving trips to the Golden Triangle, Mae Hong Son and other areas in the north. The sights are wonderful, but mainly I like the fascinating interaction with the Thai people that Sonn–a champion schmoozer–provides. I’ve especially enjoyed the chance to be a small part of his family, visiting his house and going on outings with his wife and two boys, now 6 1/2 and 9.
So this time we took along the whole family.
And we had a wonderful time, visiting the ancient capital of Sukothai, chatting with monks at the “halo buddha” in Phitsanulok, seeing a mini-Angkor Wat in Phimai, keeping a careful eye on larcenous monkeys in Lopburi, dipping into three national parks and–a big hit with the kids–exploring a dinosaur dig in the middle of nowhere. We drove more than 1,000 miles, eating our way across the countryside. Once we left Sukothai, I didn’t see a single American tourist and very few Westerners in general, but I sure met a lot of friendly and curious Thais. (More about this trip in a future issue of Travel.)
Guide lines: Sonn does not have a set rate, but I paid him $100 a day (including the rental of an old but dependable station wagon) for our time on the road, plus a generous tip at the end. Since the family was along, he bought lunch and most snacks along the way, and I paid other expenses (hotels $8 to $13 each for two rooms, evening meals $8 to $15–including several beers and lots of ice cream–for the five of us). To contact him, write: Gosonn (Sonn) Vonganuwong, PO Box 97, Phrasing, Mueng, Chiang Mai 50200 Thailand; or phone/fax 011-66-53-438254. Tell him I sent you.
Above it all: Meanwhile, in Bangkok, the new elevated rail system (Skytrain) makes getting around much of the Thai capital dramatically easier. There are only two lines, but they serve many tourist areas. And it’s farang (foreigner) friendly.
Cheapest luxury: $85 a night (plus about $15 tax/service) for a room with a river view at the Peninsula Bangkok. Alas, that introductory rate expired a few weeks ago, and now you’ll probably have to pay twice that–still a great bargain for a hotel that is the newest contender for best hotel in the world.
The trip not taken: Java. When Muslim radicals invaded hotels near Borobodur–perhaps the most important Buddhist site in Asia–looking for Americans in late October, I chickened out and made my Indonesia/Thailand trip an all-Thailand vacation. Some day…
Back in the U.S.A.: Finally made it to the Grand Canyon. It is.
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Best meal: Didn’t make it to France (or anywhere in Europe) in 2000, yet my best dining experiences were just down the road from Paris–the one in Las Vegas. Renoir (in the Mirage) and Aureole (in Mandalay Bay) each has its gimmick–millions of dollars of art at Renoir including, of course, Renoirs; a wine tower with aerial act worthy of Cirque de Soleil at Aureole. But still, it’s the food that counts. And at both places it does.
Least stylish visitors: Las Vegas. Just look around…
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Randy Curwen, Travel editor since 1992, only drives on the right. His e-mail address is [email protected].