December 20, 2008.

And so, what about Bangkok? Bereft of tourists? Dull and dreary? Empty airports, silent sois? Think again, this has always been the Magic Kingdom!

Last night my partner and I were invited to dinner on the terrace of the Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok – always just ‘The Oriental’ to you and me. Our hostess, an eminent, recently-retired American doctor of internal medicine specializing in Chinese medicine, had just arrived in Bangkok from six weeks as a guest of the royals in Bhutan. We were meeting for the first time thanks to the recommendation of a mutual friend who said something silly to the effect that, “if you’re ever in Bangkok, you’ve got to meet Uncle Ted!”

As we neared the hotel in our taxi, extra policemen were trying to control the traffic; and down the middle of the soi were dozens of carefully-coiffed, elegant ladies in ball gowns, and gentlemen in white tie and tails. You’d have sworn you were on Park Avenue not so long ago! Tan and I fielded the crush, made it to the front doors, and spied a vivacious blond who returned our questioning smiles. Polite air-kisses, and we moved through the throng to the terrace on The River of Kings.

The world’s most venerable and venerated hotel General Manger, Kurt Wachtveitl, glided over (I'd just sent him a Jacquie Lawson Christmas card), air-kissed the doctor’s hand, and said, “Welcome Home!” to each of us. Le plus ça change...etc.

The recently renovated, stainless steel, open, buffet kitchen was adorned with culinary jewels of all colors and shapes. And there were queues for the sushi, the pâtés, soups, and breads; further along came all matter of seafood, then lamb, duck, roast ham, and beef. Along the marble balustrade were stacks of cakes and puddings, meringues and cheeses.

As for more than 130 years, the glamorous diners were candle-lit along the river’s edge, interspersed with tall, fragrant trees covered with fairy lights. Up behind us, silhouetted in the orange glow from the windows of Le Normandie, were tables of revelers, no seat unfilled.

Downstairs the ballrooms were bursting with wedding receptions, and at that very moment as I stood to look across the long garden pool, the new Prime Minister arrived — self-driving his old BMW. Now that’s a change! He moved up the stairs and into each party in turn—no entourage, no body guards, just open-faced honesty!

Then across the river, there arose such a clatter...Santa? No; two helicopters landing one after the other on top of The Peninsula...more parties!

The dinner was divine, the lady doctor thought Thai food was the most healthy in the world, and looking around the dazzling crowd, said, “I’ve been coming here several times a year for a long time, but now maybe I’ll stay a while.”

So, come back to Bangkok, it’s more magical than ever!

Happy Holidays from Uncle Ted

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