Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Bangkok

March 1st, 2006:

Well, in case there was any doubt Bangkok is HOT! According to the local American(?!) radio station it feels like 45C today in downtown Bangkok... so, pleasantly warm, and just a bit warmer than Ireland's 8C, so I ain't complaining.

The flight over was... interesting. It started off well: I had watched many, many episodes of Air Crash Investigations and fully expected the improbably large 747 to explode as soon as he started the engines, but somehow we managed to take off. It was packed with people in their 20s and 30s, except for the 5 year old directly behind me who shall forever more be known as The Plague-Ridden Demon Child (TPRDC for short).
The first sign of trouble was when I and my neighboring passengers heard what sounded like somebody eviscerating himself(!): a loud "Urrrgggg!" sound followed by a wet splashing sound.... Hmmmm.... And then came the smell: quite unique. So, at least once an hour the quiet tranquility on the plane was shattered by the cry from TPRDC: "I need a sick bag!" and the rest of us groaning.
Still, after about eight hours of that he managed to recover sufficiently to be able to repeatedly kick the back of my seat. Ahh yes, good times!
On a brighter note, British Airways is no Ryanair: they poured on the food and drink, each seat had its own TV and when they made a little culinary error (they forgot the knives and forks for breakfast) the captain kept coming on the intercom sounding very contrite and apologizing and wanted us all to lodge customer service complaints with BA: Ryanair, on the other hand, would probably have tried to charge us extra for the privilege of getting that authentic Far-Eastern no-knife-or-fork experience!

As for Bangkok, well I've good news: the King is alive and he's crooning in my hotel, although he's gained a strange Thai look to him. The city itself is VAST: it stretches to the horizon in every direction and there are skyscrapers everywhere. Its strange to see roadside billboards in no less than three languages (Thai, English and French) and quite a few people here wear filters over their mouth to help with breathing in the city streets. Other oddities are that the shower head only gets up (my) chest height and the dinner portions are smaller than you'd find in the poshist restaurant in France.

So, would I want to be anywhere else? Not a chance.

P.S. If you're in the area, try the local "Singha" beer: at 6% proof it shure hitsh de schpot!