Take me to the Bridge (on the River Kwai)

After the whirlwind that was Chiang Mai, I came to Kanchanaburi for just 2 things: the Death Railway/Bridge on the River Kwai, and to visit a waterfall. It took me just a day to accomplish both, which is good because that’s all I had. Despite a pre-dawn flight to Bangkok, it cost me almost as much time and money (less time, more money) to get across Bangkok as it did to take a regional bus to the town over 100 km away! By the time I arrived I was exhausted and had missed the day tours, so I booked a tour for the following day and settled down for a bit of a nap. Another friend suggested a guesthouse and I’m glad she did, for novelty’s sake alone. My room was actually on the River Kwai! Fun, though it did rock a little if a boat went by too fast. Kanchanaburi has these large floating restaurants, which look like an open shed on a raft, pulled by a small boat. These restaurants double as karaoke bars and are apparently very popular with Thais on the weekends, so in the interest of sleep I was grateful to miss them at their peak.

I awoke just in time to visit the Railway museum in preparation for the following day and I’m glad I did, as it gave me greater insight into the tragedy of the Railway. I’d watched the movie right before leaving on this trip (which was filmed in Sri Lanka, BTW), but hadn’t really learned the full story. I think as an American, I tend to overestimate our role in any situation and this was no different. It hit home when they had a display comparing the number of casualties by country during the railway’s construction. Relatively speaking, we only lost a few because there weren’t many Americans there to begin with. By contrast, the number of Burmese and Malaysians was staggering. I later learned that Japan had an agreement with Thailand that they wouldn’t force Thais to work on the railway, so while many chose to work as paid laborers, they weren’t subjected to the same hours and living conditions and hence had a negligible mortality rate. I was also surprised at the high number from the Netherlands, given their population compared to Britain. The museum is adjacent to an Allied cemetery with nearly 7,000 graves, and I imagine their families were grateful for the closure it provided—many families weren’t so lucky and have no idea where their loved ones are buried. From there, I walked to the famous bridge itself as the sun was setting, walking along its tracks as I tried to get my head around this. The bridge was indeed bombed by the Allies as the movie depicts, so a replacement for the middle was actually brought in from Java. So many men were forced to build the railway and died in the process for various reasons, only to have their comrades destroy it and accidentally kill many of them as well in the attempt, as their housing was difficult to distinguish from other strategic targets. A rather melancholy way to end the day, but it was good for me in a cathartic sense.


The next morning began on a far happier note. My very international group (Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, and Russia) started with a hike in Erawan National Park to visit their most famous waterfall. The waterfall actually consists of 7 tiers, which you hike up along and swim in their pools as you please. The geologist in me was in heaven! The karst topography (weathered limestone) made for jagged peaks, and the water created white terraces that reminded me of Yellowstone (but the water wasn’t hot). The minerals in the water also turned it a pale blue. The biggest surprise was seeing fish in all these pools—how the heck did they get 2 km upstream and into pools that had sheer drops of several feet? There may have been more than one species, because it was only the little ones that nibbled at you. That’s right, it was Mother Nature’s fish spa! It tickled when they nibbled at your feet, but made me uncomfortable when there would be too many of them going at your arms and legs. As long as I kept moving, though, I was fine. I also noticed that several of the bigger trees had fabric tied around them. I’d seen this before, but these had additional offerings including whole sets of traditional clothing! The guide explained to me that they believed those older trees had angels inside which people would pray to when they asked for things. If their prayer was answered, they’d return with a gift to thank her. Kinda cute, though initially perplexing. In general, I’m finding my never-ending questions test the extremes of my guides’ language skills, so I’m never sure if I’m getting the complete answer since some things are just too hard to explain. I should probably also give props to the intern guide. It was her first time visiting this park, too, and it was her lot to accompany me as far as I wanted to go, despite the outfit and shoes she wore. I almost felt bad wanting to go all the way to the top, but she seemed happy once we made it up there and it was worth the extra climb for the beauty of that waterfall. Plus, the force of that water made for an excellent water massage to accompany the fish spa. On the way back I stopped at several pools for a quick dip, pausing longest at waterfall 4. This one had a vine swing and giant boulders you could slide down. I was so careful during the hike itself that I’m embarrassed to say it was only when I got careless that I slipped on a rock in the pool on my way to climb up the boulder. Let’s just say the bruise on my bum is a colorful, natural, Thai tattoo that will hopefully disappear soon.
(that's me sliding down a boulder)

My only frustration was learning there were cool caves in the Park that I couldn’t visit due to time constraints. Next time…

After lunch, we drove to a spot where we could catch the train and along the way we saw monkeys by the road that some tourists had stopped to feed. I’m sad to say these were the only ones I saw. The park had warned us about aggressive monkeys, but not one turned up. Elephants, gibbons…the forests were pretty empty compared to their potential. Besides the fish I did manage to see some gorgeous butterflies, though. When we arrived at the spot, we did visit a cave but it was for cultural rather the geologic significance. This cave was used as a POW camp, and after the war the locals had placed a statue of the Buddha inside of it. I should be ashamed of myself, but all I could think was how disappointed I was they’d broken all the stalactites. Again, I walked on the rickety wooden boards along the track while waiting for the train. At this spot they had to carve into the cliff and build bridges as it followed the river, and it was easy to take it for granted if you forgot they had no special equipment to work with. BTW, the Death Railway is only a remnant of its former self and they’re using a different gauge than the original one. Part of the track was flooded when a dam was built, and the portion closest to Burma was torn up to prevent separatist rebels from using is. At last, the train came. Again, if you forgot its tragic history is was actually a rather pleasant ride, sitting in an old car—or in my case, by the open door so I could get a better view. More karst topography in the distance, and up close were fields of various crops. BTW, the tapioca leaf bears an uncanny resemblance to marijuana, which must disappoint some backpackers. We didn’t even ride the train all the way to the bridge (I’m not sure who does), so we had to drive there in our minivan and walk across it once again.

By this point I’d had my fill of Kanchanaburi, so it was easy to bid farewell and take the next bus to Bangkok. By now the bus system was starting to feel familiar (I’m not sure if it will ever make sense) and I enjoyed watching the scenery as we drove back. I even started to play a game of timing how long we went between seeing larger-than-life pictures of the king or queen. In case you were wondering, it was about 4 seconds for the shortest and 5 minutes for the longest, but I should point out that area was fairly rural so I didn’t see much of anything in the dark.

Once in Bangkok, I was again surprised at how long it took to get across town to the hostel. Why I’m so accepting of that reality in other places, but demand that Bangkok be smaller, I can’t say. All I know is that when I got there it was late but I was still sore from my fall and hungry so I set out in search of relief. I erred on the side of massage and was happy I did, even happier that a friend suggested a place that was close by and not sketchy. Learning from the past, I was a bit more vocal this time to prevent her from going too hard on me and very vocal to make sure she didn’t stand on my bruises—though she tended to forget both occasionally. It was longer than I’d expected, so dinner that night consisted of bananas and chocolate Pokki from 7-11 before calling it a night. I'll pass through Bangkok 2 more times on this trip, and promise to actually stop and see a tourist site before I leave.

(BTW, the river is pronounced like "Kway", not "Kwhy", which apparently means water buffalo.)