Finding my way and often not…
So early to bed, early to rise and make my way to the 7am Vipassana meditation at Wat Mahathat. So proud of myself(!) weaving my way through packs of white-bowed girls and black-tied boys heading to school. I wonder what their lives will be like? They look sleepy and full of promise.
My hotel in the Old City is tucked away on a side alley, the only morning sound the Asian Koel, a cuckoo, distinctive in its black plumage and green beak and secretiveness.
The walk in early morning traffic is anything but mellow, Much as any city these days, except no horn honking. The relative quiet of life here and in this part of the world in general (or so I hear) is notable.
I watch my map, drawing closer, growing still prouder that I’m actually going to be a few minutes early, unusual for me.
“You’ve arrived!” Except it’s not here! The wrong Wat. Actually something under construction in burgeoning Bangkok.
I haven’t had morning coffee, let alone my morning meditation. Then I spot a McDonald's. I haven’t been in one for years, except for a pee while traveling and once-a-year french fries. But I do see a certain sweet irony in it, as my mood brightens. As my new Thai friend Topsi says, “It’s all ok.”
And so here I am, sipping a latte, watching Buddhist monks pass by with their alms bowls, reconnoitering for my next move, which I expect will be the Golden Temple, the area I was supposed to be heading to in the first place. It’s all ok.
Did I say the queen is everywhere? Lots of Buddha stayed, for sure. But in public, the Queen rules. Thrones of her portrait in the major road medians lined with a profusion of planted flowers. “Man oh man,” I say to myself. Don’t let “our (sic) president (sic) get wind of this.”
Then I find out she’s dead. October 24th, 2025, at 9:21pm. She was 93, and quite the girl and leader. And I begin to make greater sense of it all. The revered Queen. Black & white drapings on the walls of museums, public buildings, and major tourist sites. Thousands of men & women dressed in black arriving by the busload. Milling about in droves. Hawkers on the street selling black pins to those not appropriately in mourning, tourists exempted.
It was quite the morning. I’m getting my time’s worth, for sure. But I’m hungry now. There’s only so much amazing sights and sounds and dawning of understanding can fill you.
Google Maps. Vegan restaurants. Ethos. Which leads me to famed Khaosan Road. Honestly, I didn’t know this, but young and young-at-heart folks from the West mostly know about it.
First, a big wooden bowl of yummy tempeh-peanut sauce salad at Ethos, up some alley, away from the maddening crowd that is Khaosan. You can look it up if you’re interested.
