One day in Bangkok

It's 5am. Kho San road is crawling with last night's leftover rendez vous. Drunkard louts are held up by their scantly dressed Thai escorts. A man is passed out on the side of the road. He looks happy to be asleep. Enterprising Guest Houses are still open serving come-down cocktails for the die hards, and water for the more sensible. Although the sun has not yet hit Bangkok it is hot and humid. The thick air sticks to your skin along with the reek of stale cigarrettes and beer.

My pack is heavy on my back. My knees are sore after sitting scrunched up on the bus from Vientiane to Bangkok for 12 hours. I have met a french guy, Martin. He is24 years old, he works in China and has a few days to kill. He is not too sure what to do or where to go. He is a first timer in this famous travellers road.

We go to the first guest house we see. The receptionist doesn't even look us as we walk to the desk. She continues to stare into the distance even when we are infront of her and I, in a very friendly voice say "hello". Perhaps it is too early in the morning. Perhaps she is just sick and tired of tourists. I ask her if we can leave our stuff here for the day, and take a shower. I am looking out for Martin now because he is tired and has no idea how to manage this situation. She mumbles "no". We leave. I want to swear at her.

We go to Lumphu guest house on Ram Butri Road adjacent to Khoa San. This is the guest house I have tried to get into the 3 times I have stopped in Bangkok. It is always fully booked because it is cheap, clean and comfortable. I never remember to book so I lose out. This time I don't want a room though. I want to drop my pack and the three gifts I am lugging around. I want to arrange transport to the airport later this evening and negotiate a shower. A cold, clean shower. I need to wash the bus trip and morning grime off my skin.

The receptionist here greets us with a smile, even though it is now 5.45 am. She is happy to let us leave our stuff in a secure room for 20 Bhat. She tells me I can book a seat in a mini bus to share with others for 150Bhat to get me to the airport. And for 50 Bhat I am welcome to have a fresh, clean shower. I say, "yes, yes, yes." Martin nods nonchalantly.

We go get luke warm, milky coffee at the Tuppin Guest House. And I bump into the hippie girl I met on the balcony party in Vientian on my first night. We ask eachother where we've been and what's been going on. Our answers are brief because we both know we will forget one another once we are out of sight.

The coffee goes down like a school canteen meal you're forced to eat as a kid. I give up half way. The day starts to buzz around us, and I am keen to get on with it. I say goodbye to Martin and start walking. I am on a mission. Post these heavy gifts I am lugging around. First I have to wrap them - they are wedding gifts. So I look on the BKK tourist map, find a stationary shop and start walking. I am relieved to see they have all that I need. Bubble wrap, gift wrap, gold ribbon, nice paper. The store assistant is kind enough to let me sit in the corner at a desk whilst I write the messages to the couples to be. She helps me bubble wrap the gifts and asks where I got them from and how much I paid. I tell her Laos. She looks confused. We fumble over the bubble wrap and get the gifts organised. I am pleased. One step at a time closer to getting them into the post.

I pay and leave.

It is now too hot outside. The sun is heaving it's heat onto me. It is unbearable. I get directions to the Post office. Pass a food market. The stalls sell hot, clear noodle soup, pork balls on sticks, bbq chicken, cold drinks in plastic packets, curries in packets - convenient for take away. People slurp, drink, chew. I pass the bustle of the clothes market. Cheap clothes from china are for sale. People push and pull wanting to see what's on offer. The streets are crowded now. It is nearly mid-day. I pass a Seven Eleven - one of the many on the same road. Seven Eleven in BKK is like Starbucks in central London. There is one on every corner. I get to the post office. It is closed. It is a public holiday. But everything else is open. I am directed to a courier company. Not DHL - too expensive.

The lady behind the counter gives me boxes to post the gifts. I get talking to an American couple on a 6 month trip. We share tales and I give them tips on India. They write everything I say down in a note book. I know they will go to Hampi. I finish off writing the addresses on the boxes and start talking cost with the lady when a rude man enters and pushes his envelopes in front of the assistant. She starts dealing with him. I am getting pissed off. I want to get out of here and get on with my day. He is confused. She cannot understand him. Their exchange continues for a bit and eventually she is back to me. I hand over two of the three parcels ( I have not got the address for the one damnit). I leave.

I want to get an aircon taxi straight to the MBK center. I am meeting Graeme tonite at the airport. I want to get him some nice shirts. I flag down a cab. The driver refuses to use the meter but it's OK because I manage to share the taxi with a 24 year old Israeli girl who has just spent 6 months travelling Australia. She is excited to be going home. In fact all the Israeli's I have met LOVE home and look forward to returning. She is going to MBK to buy gifts for her family. Her dad wants running shoes and her brothers want clothes.

The taxi is cool. We are both relieved. It negotiates itself through the mad traffic and in 30 minutes we are there. we pay 40Bhat each - bargain. We make a plan to meet outside the Noodle restaurant at 4pm to potentially share a taxi back - in 2 hours. I want to get back to have a pedicure on Kho San Road. My feet are cracked and look like they need some TLC. I know two hours won't be enough for her, but we make the plan anyway. If she is not there I will leave without her.

MBK is heaving. It is mad. 7 floors of shopping. You can buy anything in the world here. It is packed and manic. But it's cool.

I rush through and try avoid getting pulled into a handbag store. I am close to buying a handbag, when something clicks and I say no thank you. "Please missus, cheap price for you today. You buy, you buy". Sorry, not today.

I get drawn to a shoe store. MBK is paradise for shoe shopping. But it's hell when you're a size 7. The shoes here are gorgeous, unique, cute, exciting, fun, but small. Too small for my big feet. I am irritated.

On the 5th floor I find shirts. Good. They are nice. But I am not sure they will fit Graeme. The shop assistant gets me to go up to an Indian guy and ask him to try them on for me. We get talking about India and he does me the favour. His girlfriend and mother giggle on the side. They fit him perfectly. I guess he's about the same size as Graeme so I get a few and decide to leave.

Outside the heat hits me again. You cannot escape. I flag down 3 taxis. They all want to charge me 200Bhat. No way. I eventually get a tuk tuk who will take me to Khoa San for 100. Fine.

Back at Khoa San I head straight to Orchid Beauty Parlour. The same place I had my hair cut and the most memorable massage on this planet. I ask for a pedicure. Wow. And it's a good one. After scraping, scrubbing, filing, polishing my feet look new again. I wear my haggard Havaianas proudly showing off my cerise toes.

I rush from the parlour to Lumphu guest house. I have a cold shower and then it's time to go. The mini bus collects me on time and we head to the airport. We pick up a couple of German tourists on the way. They tell me of their experience in Thailand. They have had a good trip.

At the airport I meet Graeme. We have not seen each other for 2.5 months! It is so exciting. I get a little nervous when I see him approaching, but when he is close to me, it feels like we've not been apart at all. We both look forward to the next week. Island, beaches, sun, swimming and time together.

The flight is delayed by two hours. No problem, we have a lot to catch up on. Where do I start. It's difficult. So much has happened to me in this time we have spent apart and it is difficult to express this verbally. I am disappointed that some of my most memorable experiences are mine alone. I cannot share them with anyone. I still have them. They are amazing. They are mine.