Accidental Tourist

FIRST impressions of Bangkok are never complimentary. The airport is sterile and not dissimilar to any other big airport in any other big city. It’s also cold, thanks to the enthusiasm of whoever sets the air conditioning.

When you exit, you’re met with a wall of hot, humid air. It’s initially welcoming, until you realise that this temperature will be your lot for as long as you’re in the city. There is a relatively orderly queue of taxis. Off you go.

The ride to central Bangkok is about an hour. There is nothing remarkable to see along the way. This is a veritable concrete jungle, with extensive industrial areas and myriad high-rise, low-income apartment blocks. The driver asks where you’re from, but that’s about the extent of the conversation. He sniffs incessantly and, as you’re staring at a mug shot of him facing you from the back of the passenger seat, you wonder where this “Land of Smiles” tagline came from.

The driver is having difficulty finding your hotel and the trip is taking longer than expected. The car air-con level is set to “airport”. You crave the hot air outside, even though it looks filthy. You eventually reach your hotel.

Bags are trudged by you and the driver to reception and papers signed. You fall onto the bed and wonder how you are going to brave the beast outside. Your shirt is sweaty but cold, your trousers inappropriate for the weather.

A change of clothes and a bottle of water later, you’re outside.

Being at street level is initially overwhelming. You recall what you heard from friends before you left

The driver asks where you’re from, but that’s about It. He sniffs incessantly