Hello again, Blogonauts!

Bangkok seems like a high-capacity sponge that has thirstily absorbed multiple splashes from the West, large spills from the rest of Asia, and kettle-fulls of its own Thai heritage. And within this sponge, each element changes the others and is similarly changed in return.

So we'll start with that Thai heritage. Wat Phra Kaeo, which includes the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, and the adjoining Grand Palace were fully open to the public on Thursday. And, wow! They were, beyond a doubt, worth the wait!

The complex contains a variety of ornately detailed artwork and architecture, all clustered tightly together. I had decided to rent an audio guide, but even so, choosing where to focus my attention presented a true challenge. Murals depicted battles with man-sized monster-monkeys as both enemies and allies. Conquests by kings and generals are interwoven with the local brand of Buddhism. Mythological critters and golden idols of gods stand scattered about the grounds. The Emerald Buddha itself is dwarfed by the majesty and grandeur both within its temple and surrounding it. (Taking photos of the 2-foot-high Buddha image were not allowed within its temple.)

The Grand Palace remains a royal residence, but at present it is used more for state occasions and to house visiting dignitaries. The King and his family live in Bangkok's suburbs.

Across the river stands Arun Wat, another royally established worship center. But there visitors are permitted to climb the steep staircases to the upper terraces. Vistas abound up, down, and across the river.

Thailand had for several generations ruled over Cambodia, and Arun Wat, more than other temples, shows the influence of Cambodian architecture similar to Ankor Wat. Oddly, some of the mosaics on Arun Wat were comprised of broken china plates that trading ships had used as ballast.

So after time gawking at temples I decided to wander. Easier said than done.

Recent protests had left many of Bangkok's busiest streets choked by reducing the number of available lanes. But luckily, few streets were entirely blocked.

I was simply walking cross-town trying to reach the Sky Train. Soon, however, I found myself walking through the thick of the protest zones.

The encampment looked more like a Boy Scout Jamboree than like a riotous melee. Dome-shaped tents were everywhere. Organizers had rented ranks of Port-A-Potties and created make-shift shower areas to help maintain hygiene.

The protest zone was surrounded by street hawkers' stalls selling food and commemorative T-shirts. But the protest zones also backed up against two of Bangkok's largest shopping malls. Protesters could easily take a break from the political speeches to go shopping at Gucci or ogling Lamborghinis in the 3rd floor show room. (Not exactly a great set-up for going on a test drive.)

Bangkok's reputation is sometimes spicier than its food, so I poked around the night and weekend markets, too. A daylight amble through the red light district seemed harmless. Still touts vigorously tried to entice me into the sex shows. Ignoring them usually works; sometimes a verbal rebuff was necessary.

Bangkok was definitely open for business, regardless of the political disarray. But even that may qualify as normal life in the Thai capital. Their reputation for fiery political disputes is like a red-hot curry, too.

Next we fly north to see how Thai life fares outside of the capital.

Blog to you later!