Why did the farangs cross the road?

In Thailand, there are many hair-raising activities to partake in.

One might, for instance, zipline through the jungle canopy like a monkey, in Flight of the Gibbon, available at several locations. This requires some training, a jungle guide, and the wearing of helmets and special gear. There, one may also rappel, climb rope "sky bridges," and indulge in honeymoon tandem-zipline packages, undoubtedly intended for those who have had second thoughts about their new marriage. "Dearest, let's do the honeymoon tandem package! It'll be rollicking fun!"

Such additional stunts as "Tarzan Jumps" and "Flying Fox"--hardly on everyone's bucket list--sound like nothing short of sheer, eye-popping terror.

These young women are clearly mad.
Note how delighted the suicidal one on the left is, having eschewed helmet-wearing entirely.

Then there are the snake, crocodile, and tiger shows, often way out in the sticks where safety statistics are hard to come by. There, visitors may drape themselves with massive boa constrictors controlled only by a hearty meal and the handler's state of sobriety.

Even elephant camp could be hazardous. Elephants, one worries, might have fleas the size of cats, which wouldn't hesitate to taste a tourist. And, sweet tempered as Asian elephants may be, riding any such animal elevates one to a life-threatening height of six to ten feet in the air. These beasts also have feet roughly the size of 18-wheeler hubcaps, with up to 10,000 pounds of weight behind them.

We were easily able to avoid all of these frightening adventures. We have free will, after all.

But come to the south end of the royal resort town of Hua Hin and you will find Thanon Phetkasem, Route 4, a divided highway connecting Bangkok and southern Thailand, which offers all the thrills you could possibly desire.

Unbeknownst to us, our hotel lay on one side of its heavily thicketed median, and everything else that we might want to reach, on the other. Among the delights on the other side are restaurants and the biggest mall in town, Market Village, thronged with happy shoppers and diners who were somehow able to get over there. Also on the other side is a huge night market offering unheard-of bargains, as well as the main taxi stand in our neighborhood.  Both sides of this six-lane highway are constantly abuzz with motorbikes, tour buses, cars, vans, trucks, tuk-tuks, song-taows, and bicycles. Crossing it takes the nerve and reflexes required to play a perfect game of Mario Kart. It is not unlike the Deadly Desert of The Wizard of Oz.

One imagines things would be easier if there were overpasses or timed crosswalks. Indeed, there are two. Each, however, is one-third of a kilometer away from our hotel in opposite directions. Appropriately, one of them crosses the highway to Bangkok Hospital; the other benefits the students of Hua Hin Wittayalai School. One mustn't have doctors, patients, or students taking chances (though I've seen plenty of the students doing so).  But for us to use one of these methods requires walking two-thirds of a kilometer out of our way, simply in order to cross the street.

At first, there was nothing for it but to take a tuk-tuk in a big U-turn across the street, for 100 baht, or roughly $3, per trip.

I'm sure that ferrying farangs across the street isn't unheard of among tuk-tuk drivers, who smile pleasantly, accept your $3, and, I suspect, purposely place the taxi stand on the wrong side of the street to capitalize on the practice.



After a while, this grated on our thrifty souls. We would brave one of the unmechanized crosswalks! How hard could it be? These Thais do it all the time. Look how closely they cut it.

This gent is more astute than most. He had sauntered nearly all the way
across before the crew hesitating on the median even dared set forth.

So, we faced our fear and tried. I got stranded on the median. 

An enterprising tuk-tuk driver once crossed the street on foot, all the way from the taxi stand, to escort us back across to his vehicle and then drive us on our way.

Another proven method is Strength in Numbers: Hang with a large enough throng of Thais who appear to know what they're doing, and most of the time none of you will be run over.

I was even lucky enough to happen upon the crosswalk when a traffic cop was there halting traffic. Why?  Maybe because it was Sunday? Was the King coming down the street? Who knows. It never happened again.

Why did the farangs cross the road? 

Because they had to. 

And they sometimes could.