Any time is a good time to visit Bangkok, an amazing amalgam of towering office buildings, wooden houses built on pilings along ancient canals and fairyland temples containing Buddha in his many incarnations.

I had the great good luck to be there in June when Thailand celebrated the 60th anniversary of King Bhumibol's accession to the throne. The king's reign began after the never explained shooting of his brother when Bhumibol was only 18-years-old. He was studying in Switzerland at the time, and had no training for the task he was to assume, but he vowed to devote himself to alleviate poverty and bring the nation into the modern age -- a tall order that he has apparently worked tirelessly to fill.

The infamous Bangkok traffic was at a crawl when my fellow journalists and I came in from the airport. As we finally turned into the hotel driveway, we were stopped by two policemen who examined the car's undersides with large mirrors. We then went through an airport security scene, putting luggage on an X-ray conveyor belt and stepping through a security gate before we could enter the serene premises of the Sukhothai Hotel.

I'd forgotten all about it until the next morning when I noticed a man in an ill-fitting dark suit and black tie, taking uncomfortable notice of me but ostensibly waiting for the elevator. It came; he motioned to the door; I stepped in and when he didn't follow me, I was actually relieved. It all became clear in the lofty marble lobby of the Sukhothai where more men in black were stationed, and in the dining room where army officers were at breakfast. Rumor had it that the heavily protected hotel guest was the Sultan of Brunei, here for the anniversary celebration. But we never found out for sure.

The city was a sea of yellow for most of the week as citizens wore yellow shirts (and so did I) to honor the king by displaying Thailand's royal color. There were sightings of distinguished personages and royalty who came to Bangkok from all around the world. Kings and consorts, sheikhs and sheikhas, the king and queen of Sweden, the emperor and empress of Japan, Prince Andrew of Britain and Albert of Monaco, Jordan's King Abdullah, the King of Cambodia and others toured the tourist sights. Royals from Belgium, Netherlands and Sweden piled cozily together into a Thai longtailed boat for a scenic cruise along Bangkok's river and canals.

The most elaborate show in town was the stately twilight procession of 52 royal barges up the Chao Phraya River past the Royal Palace, the grandstands and a packed shoreline. Accompanied by a haunting, slow chanting, 2,082 crewmen from the Thai Navy moved their oars in perfect unison. The long, narrow barges were hand hewn out of teak, their gilded prows intricately carved into symbolic, mythological creatures - a magnificent, long-necked swan, the 7-headed serpent, Naga and the sacred bird, Garuda for example. As the last barge passed, the huge crowd began to sing the national song, "The King's Anthem." I turned to look at the grandstand crowd behind me. Men, women and children were on their feet and singing, tears streaming down many faces. Thailand's prosperity is due in many ways to His Majesty's efforts and the palpable devotion he receives from the people is almost beyond our Western understanding. I asked a young spectator who was standing next to me (She had learned her fluent English by listening to American TV.) about this obvious dedication to the monarch.

"Everyone loves the king," she told me. "And the king loves us."

On the following night, our small group was treated to a performance that surprised us all. On the huge stage of the new theater built especially for this production, a cast of 150 who wore over 500 exquisite costumes took us through the history and legends of ancient Siam using state-of-the-art special effects and magical scenery. There was music and dancing, a fierce battle and a scene from a scary, fanciful hell. At one point, a real river flowed across the stage. Angels, heroes and princesses wafted over the heads of the audience on unseen wires (I suppose there were wires -- unless they really were flying). Called "Siam Niramit," the production has a "Cirque Du Soleil" feeling, but with a delicate, intricate artistry that bespeaks Thailand. A long run seems inevitable. Not to be outdone by the royals, we too, tour Bangkok's important sights. The most impressive of these has to be the Grand Palace and its surrounding monuments. The Palace itself is only used on ceremonial occasions. The Royal Family has an official residence in Bangkok, as well as others around the country.

Unfortunately, we can't see the palace because preparations are going on for an elaborate state dinner, but the other buildings are amazing.

In fact, wherever I look within these palace walls, everything is fantastical, opulent and unfamiliar. Shining gold stupas point to the sky and are upheld by caryatids with faces of demons and monkeys. Fierce demons at least 20 feet tall guard the gate to the Royal Pantheon. And golden life-sized figures that are half human and half bird stand by. The Temple of the Emerald Buddha is the most important place inside the walls. This is the spiritual center of Buddhist Thailand. You must remove your shoes before you enter and proceed quietly. There are people praying here. But the Emerald Buddha isn't emerald at all. Carved out of jade at least 700 years ago, now covered with gold and only about 26 inches tall, he sits on a throne so high that its difficult to make out his features.

Adjacent to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, the temple of the Reclining Buddha. It's Bangkok's oldest and grandest temple but the 150-foot long, gold-plated Buddha, spectacular though he is, doesn't have the long history and spiritual significance of his tiny neighbor next door.

After such over-the-top magnificence, we were glad to board a longtailed boat to see the everyday way of life along Bangkok's canals. Some of the wooden houses were old and shabby; some were new. Some had waterside boxes for mail and newspaper delivery. There were many small temples. Children played and laundry hung over back porches. But the memory I will carry with me forever was when the boatman slowed down and pointed to the right. An eight-foot long Komodo Dragon was climbing out of the water with a huge carp in his mouth.

"This one is young," the boatman said. "I know because of the yellow stripes on its back. They can grow to 10 feet." Even without the royal celebration, Bangkok is exciting, but Thailand is full of exotic surprises and we wanted to go further afield. We flew to the far North -- so far in fact, that I could see the Thailand/Burma border from my balcony at the exquisitely laid-back Anantara Resort and Spa. This heavily wooded, 160-acre hilltop retreat contains bamboo forest, landscaped tropical gardens, a gorgeous pool, a smiling staff, and lush, but subdued Thai architecture that encourages relaxing. And also -- elephants.

Anantara is renowned for the Elephant Camp run by John Roberts, a soft-spoken Englishman, environmentalist and savior of abused elephants. Elephants are often taken from their native habitat to big cities where people will pay to touch, feed or play with them. "Walking in cities is undoubtedly not the life for an elephant," says Roberts, "and it's illegal. The situation's made worse by the tendency to split mothers and babies well before natural weaning age. The Anantara Elephant Foundation offers a sweet deal to rent or even buy elephants from their mahouts (caretaker/owners)."

Brought to the camp at Anantara, the elephants spend nights on very long chains in the forest, return to the camp in the morning for breakfast and a good bath which they greatly enjoy, and are available to interested hotel guests for lessons in mounting, dismounting -- not necessarily gracefully -- and driving from your seat on the elephant's neck. Yep. I rode an elephant. Bareback!

Much smaller and less hectic than Bangkok, Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand. It's also older, though it was abandoned in the 16th century when tigers roamed its deserted precincts. Visitors flock to this hospitable city for its historic monuments, many fine restaurants and to use as a base for trekking in the surrounding mountains. (The tigers have gone.) And for shopping. Chiang Mai's Night Market is world famous and bargaining is part of the fun, though the Thai sellers are so good-natured that I hated to take advantage of them. Locally made silk, silver and teak products are good buys. In fact, we visited the Shinawatra Silk Factory and Store where we watched the weavers at their looms. I paid full price for beautiful silk ties for my sons, but it was only a third of what I'd have paid at home I was only in Chiang Mai for a day and overnight -- a tantalizingly short time but it is high on my list of places to revisit. I would like to stay at the Mandarin Oriental Dhara Dhevi where we had an exquisite lunch while seated in a raised wooden pavilion that looked down on orchids, flame trees and fragrant jasmine.

We were delayed as we left the hotel because traffic had been stopped for the entry of a four-car convoy bearing the King of Lesotho who, like any tourist, wanted to see Chiang Mai and had reserved the hotel's Royal Villa for himself, the queen and their entourage. We were asked to bow and curtsy as they passed, but I hardly got a look at the king because the royal hand was waving in front of the royal face.

On our last night in Thailand, we stayed in a refreshingly different kind of accommodation at Chiang Mai's new D2 Hotel where rooms are distinctly minimalist and more than comfortable. I felt so at home that I flipped on TV and there -- on three different channels -- was a tape of Bhumibol and Sirikit bidding gracious good-byes to each guest after the farewell banquet in Bangkok. It was a long line and they must have been very tired but they never faltered. Stand-out guests were the dashing Henri, Grand Duke of Luxembourg, resplendent in gold epaulets and red sash as he kissed the queen's hand, the slender, serious, darkly handsome King of Bhutan in his unadorned black Buddhist robe, and Norwegian Crown Princess Matta-Merit, who wore a pink dress with flowers in her hair and stood in stark contrast to the crowd of jewel-bedecked attendees as she bid her animated good-bye.

The royals and the pomp and circumstance were certainly diverting, but the impression every visitor to Thailand comes home with is of the unfailing sweetness of the Thai people. Since the word "Thai" actually means, "smile," Thailand is an apt name for what used to be called Siam.

For more information: visit www.tourismthailand.org.