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Bangkok’s River of Kings

Finding gold in the haze of history

By Tony Perrottet
The New York Times
May 14, 2017
Colorful and fast long tail boats ply the Chao Phraya River, in Bangkok. Photos by Lauryn Ishak/The New York Times, except where indicated.

Photo: Dusk along the Chao Phraya River, as seen from the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok in March 2016.

When Somerset Maugham staggered from the Bangkok train station one steaming day in 1923, he knew exactly where to head: the Chao Phraya — the River of Kings — whose fresh breezes and open skies were even then a relief from the intensity of the Thai capital. Feeling the onset of malaria, Maugham checked into the Oriental Hotel, where verandas overlooked the busy waterfront. As his temperature climbed to 105 degrees, the writer, soaked in sweat and addled by hallucinations, overheard the Oriental’s owner telling his doctor that it would be bad for business if the author should die on the premises.

Laden with literary reference, the Oriental — now the Mandarin Oriental, although nobody calls it that — is still the obvious introduction to the Chao Phraya, which has in recent years returned to its status as an escape from the city’s urban chaos. The colonial-era edifice where Maugham stayed is now called the Author’s Wing. Although overshadowed by a 1970s addition, its exterior looks much as it did when it opened in 1887 and astonished the city with its luxurious imported carpets, Parisian wallpaper and electrified chandeliers. And the setting has not lost its soothing effect.

I pulled up a chair feet away from the “liver-coloured water swirling by,” as another famous guest, Noel Coward, put it. A parade of ferries, barges and steamboats still battles the surging currents, while islands of vegetation float past, washed downriver from the jungles of the northern provinces. It was a step back into a leisurely past, worlds away from the explosive neon energy of the central city.

It’s no secret that, despite recent political disorder, Bangkok has emerged as the unofficial capital of Southeast Asia. Everyone from Swedish aid workers to Vietnamese IT specialists prefers to live there and commute around the region to less dynamic cities.

The most alluring consequence for travelers has been the revival of the Chao Phraya, which was once the heart and soul of Bangkok. It was by its shores that the sumptuous royal district was built in the 18th century and, although Thailand is one of the few Asian countries never to be colonized, where European powers erected their legations and warehouses in the 19th.

It was along the river that Bangkok’s first road was built (an elephant track that became known as the New Road) and where a raucous Chinatown sprang up. The river was then so alluring that Bangkok was affectionately called “the Venice of the East,” a serene warren of canals, floating markets and stilt houses.

But after World War II, the focus of Bangkok moved north and east. The river districts fell into decay, their waters polluted. Travelers mostly stayed away and visited the waterfront as part of a day trip to the famous wats. It is only over the past two or three years that the river has been rediscovered by bohemian Thais and intrepid expats, creating a mix of decay and contemporary chic that evokes an Eastern New Orleans.

“The Chao Phraya is a lifeline of history, culture and spirituality,” said David Robinson, director of Bangkok River Partners, founded in 2013 to help coordinate the revival. “It’s changing but keeping its traditions. There are roast duck and congee shops there that are 100 years old.” Novelist Lawrence Osborne, who moved here from New York three years ago, agreed: “The modern city was thrown up over the last 40 years in gimcrack style. It looks like it might collapse any moment. You don’t feel that at all by the river — there’s a real sense of continuity.”

Photo: An afternoon at the Cafe Samsara on Bangkok's river, the Chao Phraya, in Thailand.

There are no continuous walkways along the river, so I made surgical strikes from the piers on foot, ducking in and out of laneways to `the lapping waves. All along the right bank stood poetic ruins. The splendid 1887 offices of the East Asiatic Co. sat vacant and awaiting rescue, while the stately Old Customs House had become a fire station sprouting greenery from gaping cracks. Catholic cathedrals and European embassies staggered on in crumbling glory, while the iron pins used to moor steamers that Conrad may have used quietly rusted.

One crooked lane led to the river temple where albino elephants were cremated, another to the sacred slab upon which Thai royals could be executed. (It was forbidden for royal blood to be spilled, so a bag was placed over the victim’s head and he was cudgeled to death — a considerate gesture.)

And yet, around every corner, ventures of startling modernity were sprouting: boutique hotels, restaurants and bars, often housed in small antique buildings, alongside a pioneering art gallery called Speedy Grandma or a bespoke furniture store like P. Tendercool. A new “Creative District” is even being marked out by the city on both sides of the river to promote local talent.

Its marquee site is the Jam Factory, a renovated warehouse complex set around a grassy courtyard with a high-end restaurant called the Never Ending Summer,designed to appeal to natives first, tourists second. “Our real ambition is to get Bangkokians back to the river,” said Robinson of River Partners. “Travelers will follow. People want authenticity.”

To get a sense of the potential for the grandiose historic structures, I headed a few minutes away to Sathorn Road on the back of a motorbike-taxi. A century ago, this was the Fifth Avenue of Bangkok, lined with the palatial mansions of Thai sea merchants. Today, a lonely vestige from 1896, the House on Sathorn, is dwarfed on three sides by glassy skyscrapers. Originally the residence of a rice baron, it survived the demolition blitz that has ravaged Bangkok since the 1960s because it housed the Russian Embassy. The landmark reopened last year after a multimillion-dollar renovation as a glamorous restaurant and event space and has become a symbol of a new spirit of preservation.

The dining room at the House on Sathorn, an 1896 mansion from the glory days of Thai sea merchants, in Bangkok, March 2016.

“It has been an epic journey,” said Christine McGinnis, then the director of the Bangkok office of the U.S. design company AvroKO, which has overseen the project since 2008. “If this house was a child, it would be speaking and in school by now.” Construction problems included dealing with the ghost of the first owner’s mistress, who regularly spooked workers by overturning paintings she didn’t like during the night. (“It’s Thailand; there is always a story,” McGinnis said, laughing.)

Working with the city’s Fine Arts Department, the designers had to maintain the building’s historic integrity while making it commercially viable. Its Corinthian columns have elephant motifs carved into their wooden pediments; the color scheme is drawn from the Royal Thai costume, but the tapestries and artworks are all by contemporary local artists.

Afterward, we strolled back to the nearby pier to catch ferries in different directions. “Everyone is getting back to the river,” McGinnis said. “Everyone is getting inspired.”

“There is definitely a new interest in preserving Thai history,” said Dan Fraser, a Canadian expat who qualifies as a walking atlas to forgotten Bangkok, as we plunged by foot along the dark waterfront of the Talat Noi (“small market”) neighborhood. Here, the streets were built only broad enough to allow two rickshaws to pass, while shoulder-width alleys snake to the docks. “Wealthy Thais are coming back from trips to Europe, looking around and asking, ‘What have we done? Why are there so many 7-Elevens,’” Fraser said. “For the first time, people are openly admitting that unchecked development has all but destroyed Bangkok.”

Even a year ago, the conventional wisdom was that the river is thriving by day but dead after dark. All that has changed — if you know where to look. At least that was what I had been assured by Fraser, who has one of the most colorful résumés in the Thai expat world. He arrived 15 years ago to tutor the children of the royal family in English and tennis, and he later achieved minor celebrity status as the star of Thai-language TV shows exploring local culture and food “through the eyes of a foreigner.”

The riverfront at night is his ideal stamping ground. “This used to be the real core of the city,” he said, as we zigzagged from the old Portuguese district toward Chinatown. “But since the 1960s, people have wanted to get away from here. So development has bypassed this area altogether, which is perfect for me. It’s maintained its Old World charm.”

In Talat Noi, the alleys were dark and deserted but concealed secret worlds. Behind one screen door lay a bar with a broad wooden porch opening directly onto the river and decorated with mismatched retro furniture as if for a backyard barbecue. On the edge of Chinatown, a carved portal marked Teens of Thailand turned out to be the entrance to a bar by that name, with a dozen rickety seats and erotic photographs hanging on distressed concrete walls.

It was about 3 a.m. when I wandered back to a lonely pier, staring out at the inky waters reflecting the lights of passing barges. A decade from now, Robinson, of the Bangkok River Partners, predicted, the Chao Phraya would be transformed but still be recognizable. “Our vision is of a cleaner river, with more walkable areas, enriched with creative industries and renovated warehouses and clusters of art galleries you can visit without sitting all day in a taxi,” he said. “But at the same time, all the old roast duck shops and congee stores will still be there. They’ll just be 10 years older.”

Even Somerset Maugham would have to approve.

Plates of food at the Never Ending Summer, a high-end restaurant at the Jam Factory, a renovated warehouse complex set around a grassy courtyard in Bangkok.

Young Buddhist monks in training at Wat Arun, in Bangkok, March 2016, along with some of the city's dining and drinking options.

Insider tips

Navigating the river: An excellent resource for finding out the latest on the ever-changing waterfront is the website of the Bangkok River Partners, bangkokriver.com.

Where to stay

The grande dame of Bangkok hotels, the Mandarin Oriental, is celebrating its 140th anniversary this year with a major renovation. Even if you can’t afford to stay there, a meal on the veranda, high tea in the Author’s Lounge or a cocktail in the Bamboo Bar are rites of passage; 48 Oriental Ave.; mandarinoriental.com/bangkok; rooms from $340.

The most theatrical recent addition to the waterfront is The Siam, an over-the-top resort owned by the family of the Thai rock star and actor Krissada Sukosol Clapp and filled with antiques from their collection, many of which are like enigmatic objets d’art — rusted musical instruments from the Jazz Age, stuffed crocodiles dancing on their hind legs; 3/2 Thanon Khao, Vachirapayabal, Dusit; thesiamhotel.com; rooms from $393.

Among newer boutique hotels by the river, the Sala Rattanakosin is a standout for its proximity to wats, or temple complexes, and outdoor restaurant views of the Wat Arun, temple of dawn; 39 Maharat Road, Rattanakosin Island; www.salaresorts.com/rattanakosin; rooms from $84.

What to see

To savor the lesser known corners of the riverfront, track down the Teens of Thailand cocktail lounge (76 Soi Nana; facebook.com/teensofthailand), the Tep Bar (69-71 Soi Nana) and Samsara Cafe and Meal (which can be best be located via a map link on its Facebook page).

About the author
Tony Perrottet is the author of five books on history and travel, most recently “The Sinner’s Grand Tour.”