The long black pencil of tarmac grew before us and the miniature city below us expanded to life size. After spending the last 12 hours as a seated statue we skidded into Bangkok airport around 5pm local time and I set eyes on Asia for the first time. My foggy mind was whirling, trying to figure out if I was dreaming. Bangkok? It certainly sounded like a dream for someone who rarely crossed the cattlegrid bordering the edge of his sleepy Welsh village. I would soon find out, to my surprise, that not everyone knows of Wales. For those who don’t it’s a small country in the United Kingdom, attached to England. It is not England and Welsh people still have deeply buried memories of the historical bloody battles with the English so are likely to get offended if they are referred to as English and not Welsh.
The plane taxied to a halt and a long forgotten silence returned to our world as the captain killed the engines. At home I had been using a standing desk since the Covid years so I was not accustomed to sitting down for long periods of time. I hadn’t moved from my seat for the whole flight (my first flight over three hours) thus setting a new record of longest flight AND longest single sitting session of 12 hours. I did start to need a pee at the 7 hour point but there was no way I was going to let that break my sitting streak. My knees creaked as I stood up as I simultaneously craned my neck to avoid the overhead luggage compartment. The only sound of the passengers were muffled movements but a tangible wave of excited energy swept up the aisle as we all slowly filed out of our cylindrical capsule in an orderly line. We drifted past the polite flight attendants returning their exaggerated smiles, up the windowless walkway that opened into larger and larger corridors where eventually we found a toilet for a well earned pee. It took 30 minutes of stumbling through the sprawling airport corridors and checkpoints for my joints to relearn how to move. We avoided the travelators and toddled along like giant babies, EVERYBODY else looking at us like we were crazy.
The flight itself was without incident and the time slipped past easily despite the cramped economy conditions. The newness of everything was overwhelming so I was grateful for the time I had spent honing my meditation skills over the last two years, my breath grounding me and stopping me from really losing my shit. Initially the screen on the back of the chair in front of me, inches from my face and beaming straight into my brain was extremely irritating particularly as it was initially adverts which, after years of not watching TV, I had forgotten they existed and I hated them. I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off so submitted to its torture and that acceptance opened the door to let the irritation flow away. I also hadn’t played a ‘game’ for years (not since Snake 2) but let my hair down and got locked into Angry Birds, occasionally pushing the screen a little too hard in excitement, much to the annoyance of the passenger in front. I spent a large part of the flight watching some films (a rarity for me). Initially I tried to watch Deadpool and wolverine simultaneously with my partner (Em) but I couldn’t suffer it for long before disengaging. Later I tried again and watched a film called Burnt about a chef, a film that I could just about swallow. As I got into the groove I tuned into Dunkirk which I found to be a highly emotional and powerful film. It led me to contemplate the horrors of war and just how lucky I was to have been born this side of the great wars. The horrors of which are unimaginable to us now, even when comprehensively played out by actors in front of our eyes.
I was uncomfortable with all the people in close proximity and could feel my anxiety growing, this was something that would have freaked me right out in the past but Em was on the case and acted as a safety blanket wrapping me up when she detected it was needed. She is amazing and has her shit together even when things go wrong she makes me feel so safe. Well, she did until she slipped through passport control abandoning me on my yellow line, leaving me to panic that I wouldn’t make it through to the other side due to some crazy reason I hadn’t yet had chance to invent. Moments later, safely through, we were grabbing our rucksacks off the suitcase sushi belt and on our way to the taxi rank. The building was so huge I had forgotten that we were air conditioned and inside so was shocked as I stepped out of a revolving door and was firmly slapped across the face by the heat. It was so ridiculous it made me laugh. We joined a que and plucked a ticket from a machine which informed us our taxi would appear at bay 19. At this point, about 3 minutes post emergence, I couldn’t fight it anymore…..I had to take off my jumper and stuff it into my bag, already sweating. 300 yards to bay 19 and our taxi pulled in, this was all going smoothly so of course I was fully expecting some kind of disaster. Em showed the address of our hotel to the driver and he informed us with a bow that the price was 500 Baht and the smoothness rolled on.
Our green and yellow car crawled out of the airport in a line of green and yellow traffic, the lanes either side of us multiplying over and over again. Now we were in our own travel show, locked in a taxi that’s locked in lanes of traffic as mopeds flowed past us through the tinniest of gaps, moving like magicians. Their uncrowned passengers visibly breathing in to assist moving past stationary busses. For 30 minutes I sat and gaped out of the window as we moved deeper into the city. Home felt like a 2-dimensional world where you rarely encounter buildings bigger than 3 storeys. As the buildings began to tower above us and a new 3-dimensional reality set in. We stopped, for the 300th time and our driver announced we had arrived at our hotel. As soon as we stepped outside a Thai gentleman swept up our bags and beckoned us to follow, I thought the smoothness had ended and we were being robbed but it turned out he worked at our hotel and he guided us across the busy street and into the air conditioned lobby where he did introduced himself as Sean (well, that’s what I heard but Em informed me his name was definitely not Sean) and advised he worked at the hotel. He laid down our bags at reception (it was strange letting someone carry my bag and I was a little uncomfortable about it) and we checked in. Sean immediately grabbed our bags again (so quickly that for a split second I again thought we were being robbed) and took us to our room, showed us around and then just stood there. I was ready for this moment, I knew what I had to do despite never being in this situation before! It was tip time! I had a sweaty note ready in my hand, it had been there for some time, I triumphantly and extravagantly handed it to Sean who was completely oblivious to the significance of this moment. Now, having successfully tipped a porter I was capable of climbing any mountain that life laid before me! For the record it was a 100 Baht tip (about £2.40) I was playing it safe, not being a flash Harry nor an Ebeneezer Scrooge (according to the all-knowing google A.I.).
First things first, I was formerly introduced by Em to the ubiquitous ‘Bum Gun’, the Asian ass power washer that I had heard so much about. As I mentally prepared myself for this trip the Bum gun was up there in my perceived list of challenges and a top new traveller skill for me to overcome and master. Having never seen one let alone used one in my 50 years on this planet my mind struggled to comprehend the dynamics of how it works. Now, I’ve cleaned a patio with a Karcher power washer and there is no doubt they get the patio clean but overspray is a real problem! I had concluded it must work as whole nations use it so it must be all about the angles. We had a long and detailed discussion about the dynamics and stepping bravely into the unknown I slowly pushed the bathroom door shut. I’ll spare you the details but I can confirm 2 things –
- That the first attempt was fairly successful and
- That this particular Bum gun was equipped with a very powerful stream.
After a shower we decided to hit the street and again, I had forgotten about the air conditioning until the heat slapped me across the face as Sean opened the hotel door for us. The street was busy, very busy. People everywhere heading in every direction. Prior to departure I had run along the coast path back in Wales where I was irritated about other people getting in my way, I was concerned about how this irritation would play out in a busy city like Bangkok but it turned out to be absolutely fine. The street and it was busy busy busy! It’s weird, prior to departure I ran along the coast path and was irritated about other people getting in my way, I was concerned about this irritation and how that would be in a city like Bangkok but it was absolutely fine. Everyone here appears blessed with spatial awareness and it actually felt deeply safe wandering around. I felt like I was in a human murmuration and like starlings we all closely danced with the innate understanding that we would not touch. Me and Em talked as we walked along the sky way and I was hypnotised by the neon lights crazy traffic and general hustle and bustle, above, below and around us. The streets were lined with locals vying for your custom, desperate to sell you something and lighten the load of your pockets, these were normal people hustling for a living and I got a real sense of the struggle to survive.
Ems Dad had suggested we go for a massage to squeeze the flight out of our system, the streets were lined with massage parlours but we didn’t play massage roulette by jumping into the first one, we played it cool and quickly found a likely establishment checking the ‘menu’ thoroughly. I confirmed with Em that it was a ‘therapeutic’ massage rather than the other type of famous Thai massage, she assured me there would be no funny business. We asked for a 1 hr foot massage (350 baht plus 100 tip). I was about to experience another first, my first therapeutic massage! This truly was a day of firsts. We were led into a dark stairway and up some creaking stairs, directed with hand gestures from our assigned Thai ladies to sit and they gently washed our feet in warm soapy water (another first) before applying a salt scrub that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It felt good but felt weird having a stranger touch my feet, for non-medical purposes! Was I paying for someone to touch my feet for my own pleasure? Where would this end?! The salt was rinsed off and our feet were softly towelled. We were then led into a quiet, dark room whose ceiling was dotted with star like fairy lights. I was nervous. There were a number of shadowy recliner easy chairs in the room and we were directed to two adjacent vacant ones, we creaked into the soft seats, I closed my eyes and ‘went with it’ experiencing a blissful hour that both flew by and lasted an eternity. There was some mild discomfort for me as I wrestled with the incompatibility of my definition of ‘foot massage’ and what was actually occurring to me but I focussed on Ems relaxed shadow and the safety that comes from her saved me from spiralling away as I would have if I was on my own. So, for clarity, a foot massage basically involves massaging your foot, lower leg, knee, upper leg, shoulders and head. There was a moment of heightened panic as hands worked the very top of my thighs and I thought again, maybe this isn’t just a therauptic massage after all but that panic quickly dispersed as my lady moved on and stretched and popped my toes. I emerged from the darkness a new man, no really, a new man! I thanked my masseuse and gave her a tip and we exchanged sincere smiles.
Next mission was food and Em found a nearby plant based eatery named the UFO garden bar (Unadulterated Fun Outside) with a quick google search. We found the building it was supposed to be in but walked back and fore quite a few times looking for the entrance. Eventually we found a small unassuming door with a staircase leading into the building, we walked past the first floor shop called Med Man whose window was full of the finest Thai weed. Still not convinced we knew where we were going or what we would walk into we continued up the stairs and stepped onto the next landing where a gaggle of bikini glad girls exploded into animation from phone starring statues, but disappointment appeared on their faces just as quickly as they realized we were looking for food and not them and they reverted back to statue mode. Onwards, through a door into a completely dark corridor we had yet to see a sign for UFO, we decided to walk up one more flight of steps and lucky we did, as we emerged into a neon alien themed UFO roof garden with a giant rotating chandelier made out of fluorescent glasses illuminated like a disco ball.
There was only one other table occupied and the emptiness added to the surrealness, the waiter was straight to us and serving with that ultimate skill you can never find in the UK. We went with his recommendations and had a few sharing plates and an ice cold Singha beer. Spicy corn skewers…..little kebabs where someone had hand skewered dozens of single ears of corn onto a sliver of bamboo before showering it in chili and showing it to the flames. Delicious. Next was a savoury mushroom ‘soup’ with spicy veg dumplings (deep fried) and crispy deep fried noodles far superior to my last portion of crispy noodles in the 1980’s (1980 – My parents would occasionally treat themselves to an exotic vesta meal out of a box—maybe the first UK appearance of a ready meal? One of these was topped with deep fried “noodles’ dribbled with a sachet of soy sauce, these were fiercely fought over by me and my brothers). Delicious. Next up was a beautiful coconut curry with more spicy dumplings (steamed this time). Bill and tip paid we descended back onto the street that was now visibly busier. Unusually it was not freaking me out. Through the hustle there were some amazing smells from the street cooking mixed with tones of drainage strangely not unpleasant when diffused with deep fried spice.
Almost everyone is trying to sell you something, mainly food, drink or weed with the occasional ‘rolex’ thrown in. The streets were built up with bricks of Drink. Eat. Massage. Buy weed.
Weed was everywhere ……big glass jars of buds. Legally sold for ‘medicinal’ use, everybody appeared to have medical issues. But we did not see anybody smoking it, or smell any smoke which reenforced the advice to tourists that you can buy it, but don’t smoke it on the street, smoke it in private. Eventually curiosity overcame us and we went in a weed shop and laughed at the invented strain names on the ‘cocktail lists’ of options. Having given up smoking many moons ago we opted for some intermediate level weed gummies, paid the cashier, slipped one into my mouth and the rest into my pocket and stepped back out into the night, tired but wired by the sights and sounds. Either by chance ……or (Em’s) design we ended up turning into a packed neon alley filled 50/50 with single men/bikini clad girls that pawed at you as you passed (the girls not the men). They were all beautiful and the alley had an air of light hearted fun that almost covered the underlying sinister stones (the ones that appear if you leave your mind to really ask questions about what you are seeing). I think I held my breath for the whole of the alley as I tried to compute (and uncompute) what my eyes were seeing. I clutched my safety blanket more than once. It’s funny, in real life these alleys really engulf you in a way that cannot be captured by text or film, it was more like a tunnel with so much going on, so many individual people, just trying to comprehend the dynamics of the whole place and the lives there made the whole thing super intense.
Just as the gummies leached out the last remaining internal fibres of home life we arrived back at the safety of our hotel, I felt triumphant at just surviving! We climbed into bed and fell asleep between crisp sheets to the lullaby hum of the air conditioning.
