The second my foot left Indian soil and I climbed into the Royal Thai Airlines plane I felt more relaxed than I have in 4½ months. They were organized and polite and the queue to get on the plane did not require a Herculean effort of pushing, climbing, shoving, bloodied noses, chipped teeth, and wrestling old women to the tarmac. I will say though, I really wish the Indians would step up their airport security, especially in lieu of what happened with the Mumbai railway blasts. I'm certain that anybody could have smuggled anything past the so-called guards at Gandhi International in Delhi. I cannot remember the last time I actually wanted to stand in line longer at an airport, get searched a little more thoroughly, and be interrogated more aggressively about my motives for travel.

After a seamless journey we arrived in Bangkok at 5am. Luckily, we have a friend there who very graciously offered his apartment in his absence. He said it was a nice place, but we weren't expecting a door man, security passes, marble floors and when I saw the pool on the 10th floor I almost cried. Just as I almost cried when I was able to take a shower and get hot water for more than 25 seconds.

The Tourist Authority of Thailand has coined the tag line of "The Land of Smiles" and nothing could be more appropriate, except maybe "The Land of Politeness" or even "The Land of Really Nice People Who Are Very Laid back and Laugh A Lot". The first day we chartered a long-tail boat and took a tour of the Mae Nam Chao Phraya River and the maze of canals and floating markets that zig-zag around the west side of the huge city. Under the guise of being tourists, and undisclosed to each other, we were both secretly conducting real estate surveys for possible future rental. Each little stilted shack opened a wealth of opportunities for living amongst the locals and learning their customs. But we just got to Thailand so we decided it would be crazy to settle down without extensive country-wide research.

After being let off in Chinatown we met a smiling man who told us about the Emerald Buddha, one of the most important historical and religious sites in all of Siam. Then he told us about the White Sapphire Buddha, which is even more significant, but it's not listed in tour books because it is only open for viewing one afternoon a year, and that particular day was the day it was happening. We were under the impression that not many farang's (gringo's) get to see it. Naturally, by the time we got to the shrine it had been closed twenty minutes so we just wandered through the grounds. As we were leaving we met a very large and well built Thai man (who was smiling, of course) who asked in flawless English if we wanted to see the Buddha. He was obviously someone of stature because the guard wai'd (bowed) very deeply before and after giving him the keys. Upon entering the shrine Helen and I were already reeling from excitement, but what we saw was so incredibly beautiful that words cannot fully describe it. The hand painted scenes of Buddha's life cascade from the ceiling down the walls to create a narrative of his historic life's journey. At the end of the blood red carpet were huge ornate gold structures that stacked into a tower about 25 feet high and on it's apex was the White Sapphire Buddha. Sitting about 2 feet tall (that's a big chunk o' sapphire) and glowing with light it is truly thing of beauty and mysticism. Both the Emerald Buddha and the White Sapphire Buddha were discovered the same way. On separate occasions while being moved some six or seven hundred years ago they both fell and the protective plaster that hid the relics from robbers chipped to reveal the secret surprise underneath. Unfortunately, on both viewings we were not allowed to take pictures inside.

The next day we decided see the Reclining Buddha. The illustrious pose of him laying on his side represents entering into a state of nirvana. This very big and very gold Buddha measures in at 46 meters long and 15 meters high and it is a sight to behold. The feet are mother of pearl inlay and they depict 108 different auspicious characteristics of a Buddha. And again, the walls and ceiling were hand painted stories of the holy one's path. Then we jumped just across the street to the massive walled Palace compound that houses not only the government, but the Emerald Buddha as well. Upon entering, several smiling security guards informed us that we were not attired correctly and free clothes were available for the tour. When Helen and I met after changing we both looked like communist school kids in our plain, ugly, and very ill fitting clothes; the average Thai man is about 5'2", I'm 6'3". The historical architecture in the complex is, of course, beautiful, but when we got in to the really old buildings they were jaw-dropping. Gold, glass, precious and semi-precious stones in every color, spires, arches, pillars, columns, hand painted, hand inlayed, hand carved statues of birds, guards, monks, monkey's, and other mythical creatures embellish every nook and cranny of the place. And that's not even counting the endless Buddha imagery created from every conceivable medium. Then came the Emerald Buddha. The temple was much like that of it's sapphire brother, and in both cases the king ceremoniously clothes the Buddha four times a year to recognize the changing of the seasons. It too was spectacular, but I have to admit the circumstances surrounding our private audience with the White Sapphire Buddha were a bit more intriguing. Also, when I found out the Emerald Buddha is actually made out of jade it lost a bit of it's mojo too. One thing that must be noted, however, is for the last 700 years the location of the Emerald Buddha has been used to designate the sometimes changing capital city of Siam.

The markets in Bangkok are legendary for a good reason. Flowers to brass knuckles, panties to carburetors, copies of the Hollywood blockbusters that aren't even out yet to deep fried scorpions – everything you could ever need, not need, or never think existed can be found at these places. We even saw a karaoke drag show at the world's largest weekend market. Imagine a chubby Thai man stuffed into a chartreuse mini dress lip sinking Whitney Houston while his wig kept slipping and his Tammy Faye Baker makeup melted down his face in the noonday sun...now I hope you will understand when I tell you that was one of those moments that was too flustering to remember to take a snapshot (which is good because you really don't want that particular visual to be suck in your head, trust me).