Standing on Guard

I still wear a black t-shirt that I bought in 1998. Having bought it in a hot country, I've always been surprised at how thick the cotton on it is. The collar is still intact and there are no holes, and the print is only slightly faded, though still bright.

It reads "Amazing Thailand, 1998-1999."

Indeed, Thailand is amazing. DW and I visited twice, in 1998 and 1999. Highlights included Chiang Mai, in the north, Phuket and Ko Lanta, in the southwest, and Ko Pha Ngan, in the southeast.

And, of course, there's Bangkok.

The capital city was only starting its growth as a modern city, with huge skyscrapers beginning to stretch upward throughout the vast sprawl of low-rise buildings. The population, a staggering 6.27 million, was less than two-thirds of what it is today, and everywhere we went, we were faced by a crush of citizens.

We were eager to leave the city for the smaller towns and islands, away from the crowds. But while we were in Bangkok, we visited many of its temples, museums, and of course, the palace.

Dress codes were in effect at the palace. Shorts were prohibited, as were short skirts. Because of the heat, DW and I packed mostly shorts, though I did have one pair of black denim jeans and DW had a sarong that she could wrap around her shorts and cover her legs. These articles of clothing seemed to pacify the guards at the front gates and we were allowed in.

It wasn't until we saw the changing of the guard at the front of the main palace that I realized I was dressed in the same colours (or lack of colour) as the guards: 

Black pants. White top.

All I was missing were the black shoes, helmet, and the matching rifle. That's okay: he wore it better.

Happy Thursday!