Thai Hotel

Our trip to Thailand had been long awaited, originally planned for the winter of 94/95. My wife Karin had bought the maps and books and even packed; we were off. The balloon was ready at Thunder and Colt with a heavy duty basket tailor made for hard use overseas. And then they went bust. The delay meant that we missed the relatively short window available for flying in Thailand. So it was rainy old England for most of the winter and a rethink of the plan for us. I had been asked to go out there by Jon Nunns having previously worked for him in South Africa flying passenger ride balloons.

Jon’s interest in Thailand comes from several commercial tours he’s probably had the most experience of flying in Thailand. Sky balloons agent in Thailand managed to sell one of the first balloons to roll off the production line to a pair of business men who wanted to learn to fly and fly advertising banners in I come again, this time to train and point them the right way.

So after a fantastic summer passenger flying in England, it was off on a Quantas Jumbo from a snowy December Heathrow. We caught a connecting flight from Bangkok to Chaing Mai, a city in the North which was hosting the South East Asia Games, ( SEA games ) our first port of call. Jon, returning from SAGA, was there for three days to ease us into things.

Our hosts had managed to find sponsor’s a cell phone company and we had a busy schedule ahead. The city was humming with activity related to the games and it was great fun to be there. We generally flew across the city in the mornings and over the main stadium in the evenings.

The stadium itself was about 10km from the centre of the city and lay under an east facing slope which of course moved into shade in the evening allowing us to fly over the stadium and away into open countryside, the mornings had the ability to take us up the slope and away to the west which was not a good idea as there was about 50km of forest and national park before the next road.

It was always fairly calm and finding places to land was not a problem. We were not alone in the air a Carlsburg balloon had been shipped in from Europe and a Cameron Gas airship from America. Strangely neither thought to visit or call the international airport 8km south of the stadium. This caused some amount of trouble as Thai’s love complicated permissions to fly and neither had any. As we did have permission we were contactable and received some amount of flack from their CAA. We smoothed the path quite well for them, prison was mentioned on more than one occasion!

The airship did a fantastic job seemingly never out of the air and carrying a TV camera beaming live pictures from the stadium. During the evening we tethered next to the stadium and the airship still plodded around dropping leaflets.

Thai’s are football fanatics and the Asian cup was also held during the games in the evening. Our tethers coincided with all the home team games. As Thailand progressed through the ranks tickets sold out and it started to get ugly at the gates. For the semi final the fans burnt down the ticket tents in protest and several thousand extra tried to get in causing an outbreak of police brutality.

We tethered high allowing us to see the matches and carried PR people, they tended to want to stay up a while as we had the best view in the house!

On the first and last day of the games we flew into the stadium itself, the first flight by Jon, with me on board and the last by myself. What a fantastic feeling when you drop over the edge of the stadium roof and come to a dead stop amid all that noise and then pile out again, really good fun, it comes highly recommended!

The flights over the city were also commendable. The airport required us to stay below 1000′ and if we required to fly higher then we had to call them on VHF. It worked well and of course flying across temples at low level was fascinating. Chaing Mai old city lies within a square canel and contains some 300 temples in total. It was here that we aimed to overfly every day. The River Ping winds it’s way to the east of the old city and was very handy for big direction changes. As a rule most wind directions could be found and staying over the city centre for an hour or so and then climbing and departing was fairly easy.

I have to say that Northern Thai’s seemed more fun loving than their Southern countrymen. To this end they enjoy letting off fireworks and tissue balloons carrying balls of burning rag to keep them aloft. Not uncommon to see 10 or so cross the night sky glowing red when drinking a beer. They climb quite high as well I flew with some at 3000′. On a couple of occasions, on landing villagers let off tissue balloons in our honour. They also flew bigger ones with strings of fireworks blasting away underneath. All good stuff for balloonists to watch. The last night of the games saw the launch of in excess of 1000 of these balloons in about 10 minutes from all around the stadium, and as it was a calm night it was the prettiest balloon thing I’ve ever seen.

So once that was all over it was off to Bangkok eight hours South by road. Unbeknown to myself we had come to the notice of the Prime Ministers office and were sought out for a job!

The deputy Prime Minister, Thakasin Shinawat, had said on coming into office early in 1995, that by the middle of January 1996 (or 2539 as it is over there) he would sort out Bangkoks traffic problems. He has been pouring millions of Baht of his own money into what is basically an impossible task. He has also been doing all sorts of stunts to show the people that he is trying to remedy the situation.

We were asked to fly him over Bangkok to observe the traffic from the air, this being in their words, a low cost solution. Permissions obviously had to be sought. We were summoned for our first meeting with the CAA on Christmas Day, at 10 O’clock, everybody apparently finding it amusing that I was missing my Christmas day. On arriving it transpired that they didn’t really want us to fly as it is a military state and they didn’t want me to see anything I shouldn’t. The Kings Palace is a no no to fly over as you should never have your head higher than his! However the civilian run Prime ministers office had put big pressure on and they felt they had to relent and by the way, what could we tell them about the other balloon and airship in Chaing Mai ( are you getting the picture that this is a warning). It transpired that we held the winning hand but they really had to tell us they did not like it first. There one and only request was that I didn’t fly higher than 500′. Now what! a pleasure. Royal helicopters fly at 800′ so that was that. I walked away on Christmas days with a piece of paper that ordered me to fly not above 500 AGL wherever I liked! A trip then to the tower at Bangkok International to let them know what was happening and pick up an air chart. They already knew all about us and wouldn’t give me an air chart: military secrets and all that. If I’d known I could have brought them in England before we left!

Thus it came to pass that I was doing balloon traffic reports over the city of Bangkok with the deputy Prime Minister on board and a film crew and five TV crews following through the traffic. We flew two days doing four flights. The flights themselves were pretty exciting to the point that I wouldn’t rush to do them again. The tallest building is getting on for 1000′ and we flew right between a bunch of them of course stopping all the traffic as we went. For those that know we launched from just above Siam Square and flew across generally towards the Queen Siriket Convention centre and then over the river. The 500′ level became a real pain in the afternoons as the OAT was some 37C and thermals were popping off all over the place I may or may not actually flown quite a bit higher at the beginning of these flights and came down when it cooled down, but perhaps I’d set the altimeter incorrectly!

So after all the fun and games it was off to train three people in total: our agent and the two business men. To start with we went off to Rayong a Province to the SE of Bangkok renowned for it’s beach resort Pattaya. The guys for some reason where keen to train there. Unfortunately it proved too coastal and the sea breeze knocked out the evening flights and the land breeze in the mornings. Our permission was only for a 25 km square so we couldn’t go any further inland.

Not a problem as one of the guys had relatives with a farm near Kanchanaburi, home of the bridge over the river Kwai in the west of the country. It was here that most of the training was done. It was an ideal area for ballooning, being generally flat with occasional 5-600 foot hills popping up like islands. The fields are mainly of Sugar Cane roughly three quarters and the rest are rice paddies. Everything went fine and after three return trips to Bangkok on business the guys where ready. They will be travelling to England to take their PPL’s shortly.

One more surprise lay in store. Seeing as the flying into the stadium in Chaing Mai had gone so well I was asked to fly into another with a football to start The Thai football league. Not such a big deal but the stadium as 500 metres from the sea with houses all the way to it. Luck was on our side once more and after two days of strong monsoon winds on the day in question it was calm. We inflated behind a five story building which was right next to the stadium and bang on for the wind direction. The signal for us to launch was a series of fireworks the ninth being our go. At the practices which we couldn’t fly into because of the wind we made sure that the marching bands had left and we had a clear stage. You know whats coming next.1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 Go, we rose from behind the building to see that everybody was still stood there,down between them all I came our official hopped out with the football and handed it to the President of Yamaha and we quickly deflated the balloon,! no way was I going to fly out of that one!

So thats briefly it, I haven’t touched on the really infuriating stuff, the stuff thats supposed to add character afterwards. I’ll let you find out all those bits for yourselves.

If you are interested in going out there then the man to contact In fact the head man of the brand new Balloon Club Of Thailand is:-

YUTAKIT WANICHANOND

125/135 CHANGWATANA ROAD

PAKRET

NONTABURI

11120

THAILAND

FAX 584 0042

To update the story in June 04, the deputy Prime Minister became the Prime Minister and is poised to buy a share of Liverpool Football club in the UK. I have since flown in Australia, Kenya and am now back in South Africa with my own ride business. http://www.airborneadventuresafrica.com

About The Author
Gary Mortimer
A commercial hot air balloon pilot that has flown throughout the world.
Currently living and working in South Africa.
balloonsafaris@hotmail.com

Tags: asia, thailand, travel, vacationasia, thailand, travel, vacation

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It is the end of an era in Thailand. Political changes occur rapidly in SE Asia. Nowhere is that more evident than inside the Land of Smiles. In the wake of the John Karr / JonBenet Ramsey fiasco, Thailand has tightened restrictions on Tourism Visas and stymied the lives of tens of thousands of travelers. Officials claim the two are not connected.

For many years now, backpackers have flocked to Thailand. It’s tropical climate, gentle citizens, inviting beaches and ease of travel beckon youthful exuberance. Over time, many of us have matured to suitcases and still less-stylish travelers followed suit.

During these Golden Years of Thai travel visitors form 39 countries could enter the Kingdom of Thailand for thirty days without obtaining a visa before their arrival. Those staying on longer would simply make a border run, cross out of the country and return, often within minutes. Whish! Stamp! Boom! They had another thirty days.

Currently details of the new regulations are as clear as mud in an unlit cave. It appears starting October 1, 2006, travelers such as myself will be able to make a maximum of two border runs. We receive thirty days on arrival. Then, we receive thirty days each for the two reentries. After that we may not enter Thailand again for ninety days. In other words, after ninety days in, we must leave for ninety days. Whish! Stamp! Stamp! Out!

The tourism industry will suffer! From taxi drivers and guest houses, to massage schools and laundry services, the impact will be felt. I imagine a Tuk Tuk driver will look up this January and think, “Hey, where’d everybody go?” I like to believe the cumulative economic loss will be more than the Kingdom fathoms and policies will loosen again over time. I also still hang a Christmas stocking up for myself.

Alongside Thais, how are long-term travelers being affected by the changes? If you think the inconvenience to individuals is negligible, consider the following. Here are some examples.

Donald Wood - UK
“My sister and her family were to spend February in Thailand with me. They have canceled their trip. Why? Because, I’ll be out for ninety days by then.”

Kelly Laidlaw - USA
“I paid for a one month TEFL Course and two months ‘volunteer’ teacher training on Samui next year. That’s three months total. I lose days from each 30 day allotment, because I have to do my visa border runs on weekend (to not miss class). This is what I’m left with. I leap into Thailand the day before class starts and sprint for Samui. Then, I fly out the day after I finish teaching/graduate. Perhaps a prospective school can interview me in the Tuk Tuk on the way to the airport.”

Claude DeVosjoli - France
“I had many plans for my six months- sure to travel, but more. I’m always doing something. Mahout training, an expansive meditation experience, maybe I learn to cook Thai. And, there’s trekking, Muay Thai courses There’s so much to do here. Now I can do only half. Half lose my francs. It’s so hard to choose.”

Barry Anderson - Australia
“Funny thing is Burma (a.k.a. Myanmar) lost business because of the Thai regs. I wanted to hop over there bouts for a week mid-November. Can’t now. That would use up one of my precious two visa runs early. Don’t wanna torch thirteen days I figure.”

Kathy Taylor - Canada
“I sold my home to come to SE Asia for a couple years. The thinking was I would maintain a small apartment in Chiang Mai, take some classes, travel around a bit and have a place to nest and write in between. Now when I travel to other countries it will go lock, stock and barrel, along with my tourism dollars for many months.”

Alan McLawrie - UK
“I’m currently taking classes to learn to speak Thai. I’ll miss the third level now. Of course, I’ll be off in Vietnam not able to practice what I just learned anyway. Also, I volunteer at a dog rescue and will miss the pups. I’m financially independent, yet too young to meet the 50 year old requirement for a Retirement Visa here. Officials actually said this new law will stop bad people and not hurt good people. Well, if financially successful, charitable volunteers who study their culture are bad guys, send me to the front of the line.”

Anita Kroll - USA
“This change is a bit of a pickle for me. I have a three month course this spring. So, in December when my 90 is up, I have to leave Thailand for almost four months, not three. I’ll need the whole next lot of ninety days to cover my class time. The course starts in late April and I’m out in December. I wish there had been more notice before the government changed things, though in retrospect I did not have to pay in advance.”

As you see there are dozens of ways Thailand’s new policies will cause little inconveniences. But, how little are they? You see, I am Anita. I am Alan. I am Kathy, Barry, Kelly, Donald and even Claude DeVosjoli. All these issues occurred for just one peaceful gal who simply loves Thailand. What else do these issues have in common? That’s easy. They take money away (Whish!) from the Kingdom of Thailand and its citizens.

Nola L. Kelsey is the author of Bitch Unleashed: The Harsh Realities of Goin’ Country and coauthor of the scathing political satire Keeping the Masses Down. To read more of Kelsey’s work, visit her rarely up-to-date website at: http://www.nolakelsey.com

Tags: asia, book, changes, guides, lonely planet, Nola Kelsey, SE, thailand, tourism, travel, visa, visasasia, book, changes, guides, lonely planet, Nola Kelsey, SE, thailand, tourism, travel, visa, visas

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Embarking on a Holy Adventure

I had a strong grip on the seat in front of mine. I could have felt my stomach shrinking in fear and moving upward, toward my chest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some turbulence. Please keep your seat belts fastened until the seatbelt sign is off,” announced the pilot.

I looked around. I was the only female in the vicinity. The Indian men kept staring at me. They had been looking since I got on the plane. The look was intense, and I almost felt it penetrating my skin.
The cabin looked run-down. The empty luggage storage bins hung wide-open, flapping in the air. There was water dripping from a rusty spot above a right-side window, and the seat below was missing. My seat kept shaking and so was the one onto which I was hanging.

“Turbulence only,” said the Indian man sitting on my left side.

He probably sensed my fear. I was afraid the plane would not survive through such strong air turbulence.

The plane hit a deep air hole and abruptly descended a few meters. I felt hopeless.

The aircraft stabilized a few minutes later. The seatbelt lights turned off. I let go of the chair in front and leaned back. I felt the sweat dripping down my chin. I tried to relax.

The flight attendants moved around quickly, distributing bread rolls and small white lunch boxes to the passengers.

“Is this a vegetarian meal?” I asked the stewardess who had handed it to me.

“There is no vegetarian meal on plane.”
I opened the box, and I smelled the rotten meat. I lost my appetite.

“Can I have a glass of water?”

“Wait, please.” She came back ten minutes later and handed me the water.

Half an hour later, we landed in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh.
The Indian men rushed outside the plane, pushing me out of the way. I had no choice but to move with the flow. I walked along the corridor and entered the waiting room.

I sat down. Two young Western guys came to sit next to me.

“Are you traveling alone?” asked one of them.

“Yes, but right now I wish I had a travel companion,” I said.

“You can hang out with us.”

Rick and Johan were friends. Johan was Swedish and Rick was a Kiwi (New Zealander). They met in Sweden. Rick had been away from home for five years. They looked tired. Big dark circles surrounded their eyes.

“We partied late last night in Bangkok,” Johan said.
The plane was two hours late, and there was no sign that it would take off soon.

Many Indian men stood by the information desk. I approached the desk.

“Do you know what time the plane will leave?” I asked one of the men standing up next to the desk.

“Sorry, Madame, don’t know,” he said. “The plane time two hours ago.”
I found it funny the way he wiggled his head while talking to me. He shook it fast from side to side.

I sat down. An hour later, the Indian men rushed inside the plane, pushing again along the way. This time I sat next to Rick and Johan. We arrived late at night in Calcutta and we shared a pre-paid taxi to Sudder Street, the backpackers’ district.

It felt like a different worlda world after a war. The buildings were run-down. Some had broken windows, and huge dirty spots covered the outside walls. There were garbage piles on the side of the road. I could smell it.

The streets were quiet at night. A cow moved nonchalantly along the street. A few metal busses with no window glass were parked along the side. They looked abandoned.

“It’s not as bad as I imagined,” I said out loud.

“You seem to be picking yourself up quickly,” Rick said.

The three of us looked around in shock.

“Sudder Street flooded,” said the driver. “A lot of waterTwo weeks raining,” he continued. “I know good hotel.”

Johan, Rick, and I looked at each other in disbelief.

“No, you bring us to Sudder Street now,” I told him firmly.

It looked like a scam: he would probably bring us to some expensive hotel where he could collect commission.

Sudder Street was not flooded. It took us an hour to find a decent open guesthouse. Inside the guesthouse, I looked at three rooms and chose the cleanest of the three. I settled for two hundred rupees.

I suddenly started regretting leaving Southeast Asia. In Bangkok, for two hundred rupees, I would have had a clean room with air-conditioning.

I couldn’t fall sleep. For the remainder of the night, I tossed and turned in bed.

I got off the bed early the next morning and took a cold shower. I felt my skin itching. I started inspecting my room. There were a couple black roaches running around. The walls were dirty, and there were a few small blood spots on top of the bed. As I approached to take a closer look at the wall, I saw a couple of tiny white worm-like insects wandering around in my bed. I packed my backpack and went down the stairs.

“You told me no bedbugs,” I told the guy at the reception.

“No bedbugs in guesthouse, Madame. We are clean people.” He wiggled his head.

“Come and I show you the bedbugs,” I told him.

He followed me into the room and I showed him the small insects wandering the bed.

“Maybe oneor two,” He said.

He gave me another room with a TV and more bedbugs for 250 rupees. I took it, as I realized all the rooms were the same.

I ordered the train ticket to Delhi with the guesthouse. I was going to leave the following evening. I left a note for Rick and Johan, and I went out in the city.

In the Streets of India

Sudder Street looked so much different in the daylight. A few tobacco stores opened for business. On the left side, a couple of rickshaw drivers were lying down, sleeping inside their rickshaws, waiting for passengers. Not far away from them, a cow sat chewing from a pile of garbage. Further down, a couple of men were lying down on bamboo sheets, sleeping. They must have been really poor. A couple of cars crossed each other in the streets, barely missing each other.

I tried to make my way through the busy street, passing a few Indians on the way.

“Rupees, Madame, please?” A woman walked toward me, begging for money.
She carried a baby in her hands. A couple of children followed her.

“Rupees, Madame?”

I searched my bag and gave them small change. They continued walking along.

“Rupees, Madame, please?”

“I gave you some, now go away, please.” They still followed me.

I entered a small restaurant at the corner of the street. I sat down and ordered tea and toast.

A few Westerners sat down in the restaurant. They looked rested and calm. I wished I felt that way. I lacked sleep and felt rather anxious.

A blond girl quietly sat at the table in front of me, reading a book. She
looked beautiful in her blue Salwar Kameez suit. I thought of buying one too.

The restaurant looked filthy. The waiter brought me breakfast. He cleaned my table. No matter how hard he cleaned it, it was still dirty.
I quickly ate and went back onto Sudder Street. It was hot. I thought of buying a bottle of water.

“No good water, Madame,” said a young boy passing by.
I took the bottle of water I bought from the tobacco shop and looked at it.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“This water bad name,” he explained.

It was another scam to make a few extra rupees. The bottles have been refilled with tap water. As a traveler, the number one survival rule in Asia was to neither drink the tap water nor eat the uncooked fruits or vegetables washed in it.

I threw away the bottle and bought a different brand. The bottle was sealed properly. It was safe to drink it.

The weather started to get hot. The air was polluted. I had hard time breathing.

I went inside the market and roamed around, searching for clothes to buy. I had the impression the Indian men’s eyes followed me everywhere I went, watching me.

“Madame, you need help? I show you nice store.” The Indian man started walking along with me.

“I will find the stores myself, thank you,” I told him.

“Madame, you want to buy?” said another Indian man as I approached his store.

I bought a red Salwar Kameez suit and put it on. I thought of buying a Bindi, the red dot the Indian women wear between their eyes.

“Madame, need help?” The salesman asked.

“I need a Bindi.”

“I give you beautiful Bindi.” He took out a bunch of small packets of Bindis of different colors and shapes. He chose one, took it out, and placed it on my forehead.

“Beautiful, Madame.” He smiled.

I bought a small pack.

Back in the streets, I noticed I was being stared at less than before. It must have been the Indian attire.

The traffic was chaotic: cars going in all directions, their horns honking. To my amazement the cars didn’t collide.

“Why do they use the horns so much?” I asked myself.

A strange vehicle passed in front of me: a two-seat and two-wheel rickshaw dragged by a tiny Indian man. Two women sat behind him.
On the other side of the street, a few Indian men waited by the bus stop. They wore white pajama-like clothes and slippers.

I walked along the sidewalk through the slums of Calcutta. There were blue tents set up all along the sidewalk, and many families found shelter underneath them. I tried to look inside a tent. I could only see colorful, ripped clothes hanged in front of the tent. A woman washed her skinny naked children. As I got closer to them, they started begging me for money. I gave away some change. As other families saw me, they came closer. I found myself surrounded by tens of people begging for money. I threw some rupees in the air, and as they tried to pick the money up I ran away.

I suddenly got dizzy. I felt exhausted and confused. I scanned the images in front of my eyes, but I had a hard time realizing what was happening. This was not the reality I knew. There was too much chaos and too much poverty all around.

The above is an excerpt from my book ‘Young Female, Traveling Alone.’ To find out more, please visit my website: http://www.neo-hippy.com

I am a computer engineer, living in Montreal, Canada. In November 2001, I took an assignment to work in Sweden, where I lived as an expatriate until July 2003. I then left my job in Sweden to embark on a seven-month backpacking journey through Asia/Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Malaysia and India. During this time, I became accustomed to the “traveler mentality” and learned to survive on the road.

Tags: asia, cambodia, India, Laos, Malaysia, thailand, young female travel aloneasia, cambodia, India, Laos, Malaysia, thailand, young female travel alone

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