Arriving in Thailand I expected to have a little shock - a more than tiny jolt as I landed slap bang in Asia. But the West has come East: the plush marble and sleek surroundings of BKK’s newest airport heralded our arrival and proved to be a precursor to the Western elements which pervade most of this city. It would be easy to jump in a silver Mercedes, speed into the city centre, stay at a Mandarin Oriental and never have to take a break from your daily skinny caramel macchiato – but this is probably a way of exploring that is better best left to the business class bunch.
Venturing away from these pricey looking automobiles we lugged our backpacks downstairs and grabbed a hot pink taxi, beautifully adorned with photos and ornaments. As the Tiger Balm ads whizzed past the window and we weaved in and out of vehicles and lanes, a text came through to my mobile; our flashpacking pals were installed at a lusher-than-travellers-deserve hotel on Kao San and were eagerly awaiting our arrival. Despite the hot and sticky leather seat, I wriggled with excitement in between Kate and Sam, and clapped my hands with glee - less than 30 minutes and our crew of 8 would be assembled.
Crazy taxi driver number one soon turned into Kao San, and after almost mowing down several travs and a small Thai child, we were soon within 400 yards of Boots and the sign which signalled the route to a well earned shower - the divine Buddy Lodge. Trudging past a giant model of Ronald Mcdonald, [palms together Thai style] we attempted to check-in - but the staff don’t get on so well with our European names, and so we put in a call to our Buddy-wise buddies. My announcement of our arrival was greeted by a screech - “Sophieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” - and very soon Megan appeared, tanned and gorgeous, with a big smile spread across her face. Charlie followed, and after a while, Chloe; later, Ben - all tanned and be-flipflopped, glowing from the heat and brimming with stories we were yet to hear.
We got a taster of their travels so far, that evening. Fighting past the braids, fakes and drunks, Chloe led the way off Kao San (phew) and down a couple of winding streets to a tiny and gorgeous family run Thai restaurant. Eight Singhas were ordered, and a stunning starter was served. Tea leaves were filled with roasted coconut, lime, green chilli, peanuts, ginger, red onion and dried shrimp, then dipped in a gloriously hot sauce. The food tasted better with friends, and the stories were funnier with Singhas. I drunk up the tales, from Chloe’s dream of India, to the travelling triumvirate’s Ko Pang Gnan mare, as we giggled and gasped our way through to the early hours, and finally, thankfully, sunk into white linen framed sleep.
The next day we all (excepting Ben, whose Thai tummy prevented such adventure) piled onto a Chloe-chartered longtail and explored the backwaters of the city. Fighting off enormous grey fish, tourist-money hungry Thai ladies, not to mention a commodo dragon, we managed to take a few snaps, drink up the culture and clamber out, bespattered with river water and tummys rumbling. Ricky’s Coffee beckoned; capps and omelettes were ordered and we watched the cooking unfold from above, as three women performed an almost choreographed dance around the kitchen, producing culinary perfection with not a hiccup, and then balancing a tray and climbing up the ladder-like staircase with gymnastic skill.
Another taxi and our first tourist attraction - the Grand Palace. We had worn the wrong attire for this - our shorts shocked and our shoulders provoked. After a visit to a small shack like building we emerged looking rather sexy - but suitably dressed to view an array of golden buddhas and an even more varied bunch of beautiful looking tourists - gentleman in purple skin-tight pants anyone?
After a little culture came a little shopping. Megan, Charlie and Ben weren’t able to stay away from Star Movies for too long, and so they trooped back to Buddy and we Skytrained it over to Chatuchak market. A map almost as large as Chloe charted the vast area over which the market was spread. Colour coded in fabulous fluorescent shades, we were forced to limit ourselves to just one area - funnily enough, we chose fashion. We purchased accessory after accessory and sighed as we realised the child-sized shorts were unlikely to even come close to our English-sized hips. The Sams dragged their heels and mused over some cheap tees - and then after some ice teas and shakes, we grabbed a cab, 5 in a bed style, and lay all over one another on the long trip home.[Images: Sam Battams and Kate Coman, 2007]
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