Travel

“Scoot”-ing to Bangkok

This is Part 2 of my series on our trip to Singapore and Bangkok. .  It was truly the trip of a lifetime, so telling you about it will include several posts.  I hope you will enjoy reading all of them.  If you are following my blog via email, be sure to click on the link so you can see the pictures, or access any posts you may have missed. Enjoy!

We were up early for our 6:30 flight on Scoot, a division of Singapore Airlines. Makeup for me consisted of moisturizer and possibly eyebrows, and that was enough. We had a nice walk back into the airport security. (That’s when I took the blue and gold photos of the funnel-shaped Jewel tower in the previous post. it also changed to pink!) The flight was uneventful, very bare-bones service—they were happy to sell you anything, including water, but nothing was free. Thankfully, I had filled my water bottle after security, and we had pre-paid for a snack box, which included hummus and a chocolate bar we enjoyed later. For my in-flight entertainment, I brought along paperbacks, Garth Stein’s The Art of Racing in the Rain, which was recently made into a movie, Danielle Steel’s Echoes, a hopeful WWII novel, and Linda Grant’s, The Thoughtful Dressser. I look forward to sharing my reviews of these with you at a later date.


We had been advised to arrange transportation through our Conrad Hilton, which worked wonderfully. (It’s important to choose an American hotel, and you can use points.) A lovely young lady in impeccable business attire greeted us in perfect English after customs, and escorted us to our transportation. I hesitate to call it a taxi, it seemed too elegant, very large pearl grey leather armchairs, with the pale grey uniformed driver offering very welcome beverages, cool air conditioning counteracting the extreme heat.


The hotel was beautiful, quietly elegant, access hidden on a narrow street we could never have found on our own. The registration and concierge workers wore tailored pale raw silk suits with deep floral cuffs. Our room was the most sophisticated we’d ever experienced, although we were quick to lower the shade on the impressive glass wall separating the luxurious bathroom and bedroom.


We had reservations for lunch at Sana John, a short walk, with help from google maps, which we could access in our room. My husband has a great sense of direction, so we never got lost, winding through narrow streets or wide boulevards without benefit of GPS. Our meal at Sana John was wonderful Thai food (when in Bangkok, one must try Thai!), amazing aromatic rice, and a beautiful dessert that was probably mostly made from rice, formed many ways including bright green noodles, which we poured coconut milk over. Due to the language difficulties, in Bangkok I avoided all seafood, not just my particular allergens, and for health, we drank bottled water. As we left Sana John, we noted on the window a Michelin Star—no wonder we were so impressed!


After lunch, we took a walk through a red-walled park near our hotel, where crews seemed to be setting up for an event, possibly coronation celebrations for the newly-crowned king. We saw portraits of the new king and queen, and the queen mother all over town. Locals referred to the king by number, not by name, which reminded me of #41 and #43, our two Bush presidents, but of course, we refer to them as “George, Sr.” and “W.” There was a large, child-care facility just inside the gates, but it was obviously nap time, as all was quiet.

We walked on, my husband marveling at electrical connections not up to American codes, me agreeing, especially with how accessible they were to pedestrian crossways—a child carried on daddy’s shoulders could have reached out and touched them. We were fatigued by the heat and humidity, thankful we’d brought water bottles. The heavy city traffic was increased by swarms of motorcycles, many carrying two people—we learned later these were taxis! We decided to walk back to the hotel—we needed a nap before meeting the tour guide at 5:30. After all, it was almost 3 a.m. at home.

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