From -5C in Beijing to 39C in Bangkok

Before we leave Beijing someone says we have not been to the silk market yet. We decide to make a last-minute visit. We pile into a couple of taxis and end up in the vast six-floor silk market building. Besides all the silk scarves, pajamas, underwear and much else there is a never-ending collection of top-end brand name rip-offs. I see Hermes, Paul&Shark, GANT Ralph Lauren MaxMara all at rock-bottom prices. And on the face of it the quality does not seem bad. We start to wonder. These days, just about every genuine big brand has their stuff manufactured in China. So if you are buying the real stuff from China anyway why feel bad about the rip-offs? And is it even vaguely possible that the copies are made in the same sweat-shops as the real ones, and if so, why pay the difference? I pick up a good looking GANT shirt which would sell in Sandton for around R1500, and the price here is about R200, before trying to bargain down. But I have no appetite for more stuff, and so leave it.

We arrive in clammy hot traffic-choked Bangkok, schlepping all the heavy padded winter gear.We look like freaks.When we settle in we start walking the side walks and realize how much of life for them happens right there on the pavement. Not surprising really, because they have warm weather all year round so no need to seek the shelter of life indoors. In front of the Isetan department store there are two big shrines. One for the Bhuddists and one for the Hindus Many people praying earnestly and lighting joss sticks and bowing in reverence. On the shrines are figures of elephants, bulls, roosters ,dogs and other mythical animal deities. We wonder what it all means.

The next day we start the departure program for the Easter&Oriental Express. We have been looking forward to this, imagining all the Oriental luxury, but are somewhat taken aback by the tiny pullman compartment. All beautifully wood-paneled but so small that we have to unpack our big suitcases, take out the necessary summer clothes and have the rest stored in a wagon at the back of the train. But the service is immaculate. We have our own charming Thai butler/attendant who services the pullman, brings splendid trays of tea and puts on fresh beautiful bed-linen every morning. The dining experience is quite formal and the food is the best we have ever eaten, anywhere. Table settings with silver, crystal and starched cotton At one point one of the chefs walks past us, through the dining carriage. We stop him and compliment him on the food. He says he comes from La Rochelle in France. We should have known.