I soon learn his presence also signals the arrival of fresh flowers, exotic fruit, bottled water, afternoon tea and breakfast, at which time corn flakes is served with the attention normally accorded beluga caviar. Passengers bedecked in jewels and haute couture eventually split between two restaurants, one decorated with lacquered Chinese flower panels, the other more Thai-inspired with light wood inlays. An encounter with the bridge over the River Kwai. Pulling into Bangkok's steamy main station that afternoon, I gleefully realize I am only halfway through my odyssey. Oxen still pull the ploughs that till the fields and power the millstones that grind grain into flour.
Boats are dugout trees, paddles are hand-hewn and the muscle that moves people is human.
On board ship I overhear, and engage in, conversations with Australians, French, South Africans, Italians, Americans, Spanish, Germans and Canadians. I learn to nod slowly, listen intently, wear white linen, red lipstick and drink vodka martinis, shaken not stirred. Stretching as far as the eye can see, and then some, miraculous carved stupas dot the terrain like so many wedding cakes. Hours slip by as I contemplate the peace, serenity and beauty around me. In fact, the Buddha himself was said to have visited these parts in 653 B.C. on his path towards enlightenment.