Set our alarm + got up at an extraordinarily early hour, so that we would still have time to go + have some breakfast before getting over to a different railway station, just across the river. We were however, nonetheless a little pushed for time, so we were particularly annoyed when our breakfast at Ronny the Rat’s (the only place open) was so appallingly slow in coming. It wasn’t as tho’ they were particularly busy, or that our order was very complicated. So, by the time we left, we were both even more pushed for time than we had been before, + flustered. Both of which factors contributed to the balls-up we made of getting to the station. Tho’ the Tourist Office, in giving us some confusing information, had also played their part. At any rate, we got on the wrong bus, going in the wrong direction, + tho’ we got off again as soon as we discovered this bus wasn’t right, we promptly got on another bus which wasn’t right either. Our train for Kanchanaburi left at 8 – we had about 20 mins to get there from where we now found ourselves. There was only one way we cold possibly get there now, by taxi (or tuk-tuk) – with the help of a Tourist Police officer to whom we’d gone for help, we were able to negotiate with a driver. So I was furious when, arriving at a price that wasn’t too painful, Val said she didn’t want to pay. So off went our driver, + with him our chances of making it to the station. I blew up at Val for penny-pinching, + in a rage, stormed off. It didn’t take me long to relent however – amongst other considerations I had the key to our room in my pocket – but I was very very pleased to see Val, who had also turned back. I was contrite for having raged at her; she was contrite for having turned down our chance. That’s the trouble with attempting to have a democratic relationship. Mum + Dad never fought, at least in public, because Dad made all those sorts of decisions.
Our emotional response was to give up on the day entirely, but once we’d both calmed down, + were able to think about things, we decided to try to get to Kanchanaburi by bus. Which we did. It wasn’t a very comfortable ride, it must be said, but I lost myself in a book of short stories by J D Salinger, + survived the discomfort.
On arriving at Kanchaburi we went straight to the Tourist Office. They were very helpful, + supplied us with a simple map of the area, as well as providing a machine supplying fresh, cold water. So, thus equipped, we set off to explore the town. First stop was the JEATH museum, run by a Buddhist monk. Kanchanaburi is best known as the site of the bridge over the River Kwai; it was also at the head of the Japanese death railway, + the museum has been set up to commemorate those 2 constructions, + the people who worked on them. It was, in many ways, a primitive museum, housed in a rude bamboo hut, apparently modelled after the huts the POWs lived in at the time. The exhibition was mostly of old black + white photographs, + many of these were deteriorating.
From there, we walked along the river a little, + caught the simple ferry across the river. On the other side we were walking to one of the town’s 2 war cemeteries, + then on to some caves another km or 2 beyond that. In fact, however, we were lucky enough not to have to walk very far, getting a lift to both places. Which was just as well, since it was a good bit further than we’d anticipated. And we didn’t have all that much time – we’d arrived in town at 11, + the train went back at 2.25 (we were determined not to have to return by bus as well.) The cemetery was laid lout as an attractive garden, peaceful, + even beautiful, but lacking in the emotion or character that the years lend to such a place. The caves were very odd, being in the grounds of, + administered by, a wat. We went down some steps to a locked gate across the entrance to a cave, but we had been spotted, + 2 small boys came running across to open up for us, + act as our guides. We needed them too, for the place was a veritable labyrinth. The first 2 caves were laid out as temples, with buddhas + other religious images, but from then on they were more or less as nature designed them, with the exception of brilliant fluorescent lighting, useful to guide one’s path, but destructive of any atmosphere. The path was tortuous + narrow, with a number of tight squeezes thro’ tiny gateways + arches. Quite a lot of stalactites, but most had been broken off – a pity. Received a shock when we reached the end, + one of the boys (dressed in the robes of a novice, as well) asked for B30. I thought this extortionate, +m gave them 20 – even that was considerably more than we’d anticipated.
We had to walk all the way back to town, a long + tedious journey in blazing sunshine. We were running short of time by now, + were dealt a severe blow when, after wasting time chasing around the bus station, we discovered there was no bus out to the Bridge – that was what we were told, in any case. So, in something of a panic, we rushed out to the main road, determined to hitch if necessary. We didn’t have to, luckily – a bus came along, took us along to the junction to the station – + after a swift march along the road, we arrived at our destination: the Bridge over the River Kwai. It was now about 2.10, so didn’t have very much time at all, but in fact everything worked out very well. We discovered we could board the train here, rather than have to return to town, + really there wasn’t all that much to see: just an ordinary iron bridge across an ordinary muddy river. The whole David Lean, Alec Guinness thing was cinematic fabrication.
Drank an ice-cold Pepsi, so cold that it hurt, + climbed on the train. Sat thro’ a long + uneventful train journey, arrived at Thornburi Station at a little after 6, caught the half-baht ferry across the river, + strolled back form there across the park. Had we but known, we could have strolled there this morning, without getting in such a flap. I bought a replacement kite, this one in the shape of an owl, + we joined the thousands of others hanging onto the other end of a piece of string. Kevin II proved a far more erratic + unpredictable fellow than his predecessor. Our first kite had sat placid in the sky – this one soared + swooped at whim, sometimes plunging to earth. We were very tired after a long day, so were happy to retire at an early hour, as soon as we had eaten.
A pretty full-on day, what with breakfast frustration, transport confusion, and a lot to see, but in the end we managed everything successfully, even at a severe cost to our mental well-being.
