Off to Market

The Thais love their markets. They pop up pretty much everywhere - by the side of the highway, on a scrap of wasteland, on the pavement, in front of a shopping centre, in a park, even on the river with the vendors selling their wares from little boats. New ones appear regularly, whenever a piece of land is vacated in fact. An army of people rock up, tables, fold-up chairs, racks and rails all tucked under their arms, and set up en mass. Soon the (normally very loud) sounds of (normally very bad) Thai music will be heard, along with the aromas of a variety of food sizzling and bubbling away. Anything from row after row of socks and briefs to kittens and baby hedgehogs might be sold at these markets, which is why they're always worth a visit. You just never know what you might find.

We went to the mother of all Thai markets yesterday - Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok. It is immense. It covers over thirty five acres, contains some fifteen thousand stalls and receives several hundred thousand visitors a day. There is nothing that this market does not sell. Clothes, household items, food, pets (and animals that look like they’d rather kill you than cuddle up and play ball with you), antiques, religious paraphernalia, CDs and DVDs, gardening equipment and plants, Thai handicrafts, art, furniture... I could go on but I won't as that would make for a rather boring blog. Of course, the sheer size of the place provides a challenge for even the most dedicated shopper. It is essential to be organised and have a plan of attack, tackling the warren of lanes in a logical order. That, however, is rarely achieved as it is all too easy to be sucked into the cavern of narrow lines of stalls and shops and, before you know it, you're at the other side of the market and have missed whole sections. In a way though, the beauty of markets is just wandering around and coming across new and unexpected stalls.

We started off in the handicrafts section and I was wandering down a lane, looking at bronze Buddha statues, incense holders and paintings of temples, when I was startled to find myself looking down at a large tub of mice. Raising my eyes, I stared into the eyes of a lizard, then looked round to see a large snake in a glass case. Evidently we had stumbled into the live animals section. Again, pretty much anything goes here. We spotted monkeys, turtles, exotic birds, rabbits, guinea pigs, iguanas, spiders, scorpions, and lots and lots of gorgeous puppies and kittens. Unfortunately, many were kept in cramped conditions but they seemed to be alert at least, unlike at other markets I have been to where the puppies had clearly been drugged to keep them from making too much noise. I’d read that smugglers illegally selling endangered animals operated in some of these shops so I wasn’t about to give them any of my money and anyway, The Husband didn’t seem to want to let me take a baby Basset Hound home.

Moving on from the virtual zoo that made up the pet section, we emerged into an Aladdin’s cave of clothes stalls. There were of course the beer and fake designer t-shirts you see everywhere but there was also stall after stall of original, independent clothing. I was in heaven. We wandered up and down the lanes, popping into little shops, honing our bartering skills and picking up some bargains. It didn’t take long though before the heat and humidity started to take their effect, but I brought out my trusty hand-held fan acquired for free at the tennis event we went to last month, used my travel towel to mop my brow and gratefully gulped down the bottles of water stored in the pocket of my bag . Like any serious shopper, I had come prepared and was glad that I had. It would be all too easy to give up after an hour or two, the heat and dehydration simply becoming too much. The Husband started to become cranky a few hours in but, for a man, I will admit that he did fairly well. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of going into an air-conditioned shop as it was only upon leaving its cool interior that he realised just how hot and sticky it was outside. It was then that the grumpy faces started, accompanied by lots of sighing and I knew it was time to leave. We jumped into the blissfully air-conditioned car with many exciting purchases, none of which, I can assure you, had fur, scales or spikes.