One Night -- I mean Week in Bangkok

A clichéd title, but hey, I am a child of the 80’s.  Not to mention the fact that that song was running though my head the entire time I was in the city.

That wasn’t the only way my head was messed up upon starting my three weeks in Thailand.  My last night in Istanbul still loomed large in my memory for multiple reasons.  More on that later.

First, getting to Thailand.  I’d been through Istanbul airport twice by this point so I thought I knew what to expect.  Ha!  The second you enter the departures section of the place, they scan your bags.  I initially thought that this was a time-saving measure and a lot less intrusive than the full security scan.  No, this was just the preliminary scan.  You still have to go through security later just like with any other flight.  This is just an extra annoyance since one security check isn’t enough fun.

My first flight was mercifully short at 3 ½ hours.  Then it was time for what I knew was going to be a long layover in Kuwait airport.  It immediately got off to a bad start.  Coming off the plane, they make you go through security.  Huh?  Everything got scanned again and they even made me turn on my laptop and tablet.  When the agent told me to leave those items out, I heard him, but had no idea why he’d ask me to do that.  He had to tell me twice more before I understood him.  Still don’t understand the need to turn the machines on (again, I was coming off a flight and was only in the airport for a transfer), only to immediately turn them off once the staff were satisfied that they were actual computers and not mock-ups.  How paranoid can you get?

The airport was deserted when my plane landed, but over that almost 6-hour layover, the place filled up fast.  Why so long a layover when that’s not what I signed up for?  Because mine was the only flight that got delayed.  Great. 

I had way too much time to wander the airport, noting just how much it was designed for this region of the world.  I know nothing about Kuwait but judging by the number of head scarf/burka wearing women, I’d say I was still in deeply Muslim territory.  There is a separate meditation/prayer room for men and women on each floor (also in Istanbul airport).  This sign was posted by the bathroom sink across from a separate stall with a squat toilet, something I’d never seen before.

It was another seven hours to Thailand, then a good hour of wait time in the airport.  I wasn’t scheduled to get to my AirBNB until 2 and I’d arrived before noon.  The host texted me that the room was ready early, so I grabbed a taxi and headed in.  The taxi driver was another beaut – he kept talking into this phone in Thai (not a conversation, mind you, he was the only one speaking) while weaving in and out of traffic.

Just as Istanbul was multicultural chaos, Bangkok is chaos: Asian style.  They drive on the other side of the street and the other side of the car. Traffic is crazy with a massive number of motorcycles weaving in and out between the cars, in the shoulder, in the opposite lane as they’re passing.  Again, it was time to keep my head down and hope we didn’t have an accident.

Good thoughts worked again and we made it to the condo in one piece.   The gated high rise has a pool and a gym on the first floor that I could access (but didn’t).  The host left instructions for me to get in and I managed to make my way to the very nice apartment.  A small studio designed with Asian efficiency with everything you need in it.  

 

Covid still has its sickly sway over this country.  Understandable since Asian countries, with their huge, densely populated cities, have dealt with more than their fair share of outbreaks.  Masks are still widely worn here, even on the streets.  Since I didn’t want to stand out any more than I do as a single, almost six-foot tall, black woman(!) roaming the streets, I also put on the mask.  That was not an easy habit to maintain because of the heat.

I knew I was coming to Thailand during the rainy season (also the off-season for tourism), so I was always prepared for a downfall by carrying my umbrella.  But the heat was much more than I was ready to handle.  As soon as I would step out of an air-conditioned building, my glasses would fog up and I’d start sweating.  By the end of the day, I was a damp, sticky mess.

Part of the sweating resulted from just getting out of the condo.  My building was the furthest back from the road of the three buildings in the complex (you can search online for Chambers On Nut for more pictures).  It was nice and quiet because of this, making it easy to forget that the complex is located just a short walk from Sukhumvit Road, the main drag of the city.  To get to that road, you have to get off the side road by hugging the nearest walls on the rarely-there shoulder or the short, intermittent sidewalks while remembering that Thais drive on the opposite side of the road and praying you don’t get clipped by a passing motorcycle. Just trying to get to the main road was enough of a chore to get the sweat pouring.

Part of the reason this side road was so busy was because of the motorcycle taxi stand on the corner.  At any given time, there would be a line of dudes on either side of the road waiting for fares.  Then, with a helmet-less passenger clinging to them for dear life, they would speed off around that corner.  I avoided at least three near-collisions with guys doing this.  I still don’t know why there aren’t more dead bodies on the city streets.

If you’re familiar with the Murray Head song referenced in the title of this post, you know it mentions the bars, temples, and massage parlors all over the city.  That song was released in the 80’s and nothing has changed in that regard.  Walking down Sukhumvit, getting a lay of the land, it is indeed one massage parlor after another.  Mixed in with those are the restaurants, bars, and the occasional weed shop.  And in front of all of those are small carts of people selling all kinds of things; fresh fruit, smoothies, Thai sticks of various meats, desserts – you name it.  No really, you name it.  I passed by all these carts completely baffled as to what I was looking at most of the time.

I am not a foodie.  I didn’t go there to eat.  That and the sheer volume, variety and availability of food is rather intimidating.  Eating in Thailand for me was a lot of ‘I don’t know what this is, but I’m gonna put it in my face.  Hey!  That’s not too bad!’  I did try some street food, but mostly stuck with restaurants where at least I had a written description of what I was about to eat.

The number of carts multiplied exponentially once night fell.  The night markets would crop up everywhere selling food as well as clothing, shoes, and household appliances.  There were even a bunch of ladies doing manicures on the street.  Only at night, though.  Once daylight came, all the structures would be dismantled only to go right back up the next night.

Once again, I can’t give you any firsthand experience with the infamous nightlife of Bangkok.  Obviously, I wasn’t there to get blackout drunk and troll for Thai women, but even I could feel the energy of the place.  While there are people walking around and handling their business during the day, it feels like the city is just recovering from the previous evening and getting ready for the night to come. That’s some powerful stuff and I can see the attraction.