Discovering Bangkok

London Heathrow airport: 16 hours later, with a stop-over in Amsterdam, and we`re in Bangkok. It's 9:30am on Thursday 19th May 2016. Walking through the wide airport corridors, I`m stunned with how fresh and clean things appear. Thai women water the plants and orchids, gentleman wait patiently with a smile and name tag for their guests. We trott along to the train and head towards our hostel, our first connection is to Makkasan Station, then the metro to Hua Lam Pong. Trains are spacious, passengers are neatly dressed, fingers tapping on their cellphone keys. Our backs begin to sweat. It is undoubtedly hot and humid. A whiff of warm air hits us as we head out of the station, greeted by a sea of desperate tuck tuck drivers. The first shows us no sign of understanding where we are wanting to go. The second takes Matt`s phone out of his hands to show the map to his friend. Hard to know whether they were exchanging routes to our destination or contracting on a way to steal an iPhone 4. My eyes batter as we drive through the town, I had only slept a couple of hours on the plane. Glimpses of small bodies walking along the streets, buildings with muted colours, some green, others orange, red, blue, yellow, but all a dirty shade, faded by the sun. Having dropped our bags off at our hostel, we wander the streets in search of food. `This street: full of food,`, the man at the check-in highlighted on our map. It`s mid 30 degrees. We find a neighbourhood with food trolleys parked in front of what appears to be open tiled-floor garages. Except they`re not. They are homes. The living room, bedroom and kitchen all shared the same space. A curtain separated the toilet. Food trolleys are filled with large pots and pans that harboured food. We didn`t know who for or how long that food had been there, we wondered why all these houses on this street seemed to extend their daily cooking as a business to the locals. We were yet to find out that hundreds of houses did this all over Bangkok. Not having laid an eye on a tourist, we decide to stick to a simple Chinese meal in a local restaurant, fearing food poisoning on our first day. And thus, we were welcomed into the Old Town of  Bangkok. 

Fearful of using our cameras, both due to safety reasons and denial of being foreign tourists, we walk along Baan Mo Road. We come across jewellers, music shops, benches of men restoring old radios and techy materials, and several flower boutiques. Crossing the road was impossible; it required bravery. With no attention to zebra crossing, no roundabouts, and stop signs that neglected turns, we run across as quickly as we can. On Chakphet Road and Phahumat Road, we walk past cheap goods aimed at the locals: tables and rails full of clothes and fabrics, walls filled with products, make-up, phone cases and home decorations. ChinaWorld was just around the corner, although we didn't see any Chinese people. With the sun almost setting, 6:30pm, we stroll through Romaneenart Park to find hundreds of locals running. Several groups practice tai-chi and a few stretch or meditate on their own; others sit and listen to the radio or pack up their picnics. While taking a breather on a bench, we are surprised to see running as a communal sport. Back in London, we all fight for our own stretch of space in which to keep fit.

Curving around the Giant Swing, our stomachs rumbling, we are finding Bangkok to be lacking in restaurants and western tourists. After a few quiet roads of large Buddhas and shrines, Matt uses his Map.Me app to discover that just 100m north are hundreds of bars, cafes, pubs, restaurants. And so we find Khao San Road, a haven of tourists, with bright lights, plentiful of western food and spoken English. We settle for an Indian, greeted by an inviting smile, and are surprised to only pay £7 for dinner. 

Climbing into bed that night, we realised we discovered the real Bangkok yet we don't think we know it at all.