River Kwai and the Tiger Temple

The bus arrives on the dot of 7am and in a few minutes our group is heading west out of Bangkok in a mini-bus. First stop is the Kanchanaburi War Cemetry, where thousands of allied POWs are laid to rest.

For those unfamiliar with the history, the Japanese needed a rail link between Burma and Thailand in 1942 to supply the expansion of their southern war effort. 15,000 POWs (British, Dutch, Australians, New Zealanders and Indians) plus 100,000 civilians died of malnutrition, disease and mistreatment under their Japanese masters. The bridge over the River Kwai was a strategic link on this line, and its difficult construction exacted a heavy toll on workers. They say that every sleeper represents a life lost on its construction.



From the grave of an unknown soldier, looking over the peaceful park.


This one is particularly poignant - a family member has sought out the grave and left a photo.

It's a time for reflection. My Dad was in the Tank Corps in the Pacific Islands during the war. To paraphrase, "There but for the grace of God lies my father". Of course, if he was, he wouldn't be.
On to the Jeath Museum not far from the bridge itself.


With some realistic models of what conditions were like.


The bridge itself has been rebuilt - it was heavily bombed during the closing stages of the war, with more POW casualties - the Japanese had lined them up on the bridge in an attempt to deter the bomber pilots.

As you can see, the bridge is still in active service. All the tourists on the bridge have scrambled to safety on the viewing platforms, from where I'm taking the photo.

Not only would OSH have a fit at that, but notice the lack of hand rails. A stream of tourists walk the centre section in single file. Meeting others coming towards you means an awkward shuffle on to the rails to get past. A few of us walk the narrow section outside the rails just to get anywhere. A degree of sure-footedness on the ageing boards is required to avoid a 15m drop in to the river below.

We stop off at a waterfall where I take the opportunity for a refreshing swim in the midday heat. It's 30 degrees typically. And I have an ulterior motive - if I'm nice and clean, perhaps the tigers won't smell me and consider me their afternoon snack.

We've been warned to not to wear bright clothing - particularly pinks and reds. I don my darkest, most tiger-like shirt in dark green with yellow stripes.

And the strategy seems to work! While tigers are tearing chunks off other tourists, I can sneak up on this big pussy snoozing in the afternoon sun and give him a tickle.


The Tiger Temple is actually a Buddhist farm/temple complex. In the 1990s villagers started bringing injured animals to the monks for healing, and the farm is full of boars, deer, buffalo, peacocks and other assorted animals.

The Burmese border is close, and tiger poaching in this mountainous and poorly patrolled area is common. Unfortunately poachers leave orphaned cubs behind after their dirty work, and occasionally these are rescued and brought to the monks as well. So what we're actually seeing here is a fully grown tiger hand-reared by the monks from a cub - so well fed, well-socialised to humans, and not much danger while taking their afternoon nap.

Of course it helps that I'm not Indian.