After effort comes relaxation. Back in Kathmandu I already noticed the impact of my trip. I have a massive calorie deficit and enormous hunger, and I’m basically spending the entire day searching for food and restaurants to catch up.
It’s a beautiful side effect to learn more about how to deal with your body this way—feeling what you need and ultimately getting to know yourself better. I’ve chosen to relax, and that’s why I’m going to Thailand: some islands, taking it easy, that’s the plan. I fly to Bangkok and even though, after India, no city will really shock me anymore, I still opt for a soft landing. I stay in a suburb because the next day I’m meeting up with Michelle, with whom I did the summit. She lives with her husband Trevor in a suburb of Bangkok.
In the morning I wake up and head out onto the street for some food—local street food, of course. Food remains a magical reflection of culture, so there I am, sitting outside on a plastic chair with my backpack, slurping a noodle soup with pork. Guay Teow, for those interested. Delicious. A Thai tea to wash it down and a great first introduction to Thai street cuisine.
That calorie deficit actually comes in handy here, because Thailand is known for its food. After a pleasant lunch with Michelle and Trevor—including my first tears from the spicy food—I’m pretty well acclimatized. I enjoy the food: Pad Thai, curry, chicken, pork, shrimp, and mango sticky rice. Super sweet of Michelle to drop me off at my hostel in the city center. What strikes me is that despite the crowds, traffic is quite manageable. Fairly organized—Bangkok’s my first impression. A very nice and cozy hostel as well.
That Thai tea gives me a caffeine rush, so I’m restless. Out onto the street I go, heading to Songwat—a beautiful neighborhood with street art and some food spots. In the evening I go out with Maxime, girlfriend of my good friend Joram. It’s always nice to see a familiar face. Together we visit Wat Pho in the evening. An incredibly beautiful Buddha lying on his side. After that, a drink on the busiest and most famous street in Bangkok: Khao San Road. After a beer and some jokes, it quickly gets renamed Khao Stan Road. Maxime has been here for three weeks and is leaving the next day, so it’s nice that it worked out to see each other.
My first impressions of Thailand are that it’s very easy for tourists. Everyone is friendly, but at the same time you feel that it’s transactional. People are probably just as kind and friendly as anywhere else in the world, but it feels less open than India or Nepal. People keep more to themselves, which is completely understandable. The system drives behavior, and given how developed tourism is here, that makes perfect sense.
The weather is a bit cloudy and I meet Vinay, a sweet gay guy from Australia with Indian roots. We go shopping in one of Bangkok’s malls. I score a fun pair of cow-print pants under the motto: why not do something crazy. They fit and look good on me, if I may say so myself. Ideal for a night out and definitely outside my comfort zone. So of course I wear them that very evening for a night out on Khao Stan Road… Pff, rows of partying tourists and gigantic balloon-inhaling Thai women… Yeah, better stay alert. A fun night with the hostel crowd and nice to tick this one off the bucket list. “One night in Bangkok…”
The plan is to head to the islands in the south, so I book a flight to Hat Yai. The weather there is bad, but with my stubborn head I think: it’ll be fine, how bad can it be? Stubbornly, I book the flight. I arrive in pouring rain and all the transport booths to the islands are closed. The roads to the city are blocked due to flooding. When I later see footage, it’s indeed severely flooded and no one can move around in the Hat Yai region. At the information desk I’m told there will be no transport for the next three days. Massive devastation from the rainfall, so I have to change my plans. Flying back to Bangkok is the best option.
Things aren’t going my way, especially when I lose my passport… luckily it’s quickly found again. It’s one of those days where I want everything, but I have to surrender and learn a lesson about not being so stubborn. End result: 12 hours of waiting at Hat Yai airport and a return flight to Bangkok.
Back in the same hostel, I surrender a bit and I’m almost forced to slow down instead of trying to control everything and go everywhere. Still, there’s that feeling: what am I going to do now? Taking it easy in Bangkok—heading out for food, doing laundry, watching a documentary, chilling with people in the hostel, and in the evening taking a walk through Chinatown.
Being as open as I am, I know I look at things differently than others, and tourist shops always amaze me. I often have this thought when walking past tourist shops or markets, and in this specific case Chinatown triggered me to share it. It’s about the thought and realization of extreme overproduction of “stuff.” Bags, magnets, slippers, shoes, Christmas decorations, bowls, socks, souvenirs, scarves, T-shirts, all the way to tiny trinkets to decorate your Crocs—hundreds of each. I don’t believe this all ever gets sold. I wonder where it all comes from—China, of course—but which factory, and where does it all go when it’s out of fashion or no longer wanted? My feeling is mainly focused on the clear overproduction of goods not only here but all over the world. In my opinion, a lot of junk is made for no real reason. Again, I’m not going to solve the “plastic” problem, but it does occupy my mind when I walk through markets and shops like these—especially the sheer volume. “Why worry about this?” you might think as a reader. It’s just a thought in my head.
The next day I head out on my own. I visit the parks, enjoying long walks through Lumphini and Benchakitti Park. Beautiful and calming, and also a nice scale model of Bangkok in a museum to see the city in 3D for a moment. I have a drink at a rooftop bar and enjoy a quiet day. My conclusion: Bangkok is an easy city. After six days, the sun finally comes out, so I continue my route to the islands.
I realize that I needed the calm—Bangkok is a less extreme city, which means I also end up in fewer bizarre or extreme situations. Of course, that largely depends on what you’re looking for and what you want. For me, it was time to slow down. Maybe a bit boring for readers, but it’s what I needed. And no, no exciting massage parlor stories—I’m not burning my fingers or my dick on that. Although those Thai women might think differently when they see me walking down the street. I’m not doing it, and so my route continues from Bangkok to Koh Phangan.
A night bus and a ferry, and then island life can begin.
“One night in Bangkok” turned into a few, and the world, that was already my oyster!
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