Bangkok Jan 2026:
I was indeed on the ‘flight of the damned.’ I had earplugs jammed into my ear canals, placed noise-canceling headphones over the top, and cranked up the German industrial metal band Rammstein to 11. Finally, I took off my shirt and wrapped it around my head; I looked like a cross between Flea, the bassist from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Peter Pumpkinhead.
After the screaming, crying, and general mayhem of the flight, I found myself at Suvarnabhumi Airport using the moving walkways that give one the illusion of walking at roughly 25 mph. The empowering feel of the wind in my hair returned me to an invigorated state. Now, we are in the Zen world of waiting for luggage at the carousel, surrounded by like-minded travelers. These kind souls agree that it is best to walk on and off the plane as cool as a cucumber, without the necessity of lifting 40 lb. luggage from an overhead bin while trying not to maim someone as it crashes to the floor.
I live for the day when overhead bins are deemed a frustrating annoyance and are forever removed from airplanes. They add nothing but friction and a free-for-all at the end of the flight. After landing and taxiing to the jetway, you should be sitting and having a quiet conversation with your neighbor about the joys of calm and restful travel.
Traveling comes in different shapes and sizes. From going from the bedroom to the kitchen or traveling the world. The mode of travel matters. It would have been an option just to take a rideshare, stare out the window in silence and call it good. Fortunately, we had friends that volunteered to pick us up at the airport and deliver us to our Airbnb. That 30-minute drive was full of laughter and stories about life and family. Life is good.
I’m glad I put away the cameras and cell phones and just enjoyed our first dinner in Bangkok. On a rooftop restaurant 31 stories up, nestled in between lit up skyscrapers at night that loomed over us. Trust me, there are a lot of opportunities and temptations to film or even just take pictures. Yes, I had my GoPro with me, but I never touched it. It really changes the trajectory of the evening once unleashed. After a warm and magical evening dinner with friends in this beautiful setting, we all walked the darkened Bangkok streets to the elevated train station to go our separate ways home.
Bijoux: Breakfast from the gods
Sometimes I am like a cat when it comes to breakfast, or the morning in general. I like it the same and predictable. I began mine with my usual walk of the neighborhood at sunrise. But this time it was in the Ekkamai area of Bangkok. If we were ever to move here, it would probably be to this enclave. It’s kind of our speed. Food carts intermittently found their way onto the sidewalk. The usual sounds of sweeping caress my ears. I found, then walked through, a wet market getting ready for restaurateurs of the day. We met Ishya for world class croissants and cappuccinos (cappuccini?). As good as it was, I was reminded that in Thailand the cost of living is somewhere between 30-50% of what we spent in Seattle but, Bangkok especially, they allow you to spend… a lot of money. Our breakfast shown in the photo above was $17.54. Those are what I refer to as Seattle prices and worth every penny. OMG the croissants were amazing. So flaky that each bite instigated an explosion of bread shrapnel in 180 degrees like a Claymore (a directional landmine), covering anyone in a 2-meter perimeter with flakes sticking to hair, makeup, and linens. This all was followed by a shopping trip requested by Bill. The two shirts I planned to bring still remain on hangers next to where I was packing. They will be waiting for me when we get home.
We made a run to the Grand Palace to meet our visiting family group, involving two trains and a twenty-minute canal boat ride. Unfortunately, we arrived late, and the sheer scale of the palace was overwhelming. We spent our time—and $30 on tickets—fruitlessly searching for the group, though we did manage a quick peek at the Textile Museum; amazing… really. When the family moved on to another temple, we decided to leapfrog ahead, traveling to Siam Paragon Mall to wait and “trap our prey.”
Finding lunch seating for twelve in a food court the size of a football field was a challenge, but we managed to eat and spend an hour together before taking a family photo and saying our goodbyes. (BTW… a food court in Thailand is not what a food court is in the US. The food is nothing less than amazing).
Chinatown: Bangkok
In the heart of Chinatown, back alleys seem to retreat into perpetual twilight, dark and hidden from the Bangkok sun by encroaching buildings, though there still remains a relentless stagnant heat. These alleys, sometimes not much more than 3 meters across, but enough for a storefront for silk, shoes, or even a trinket or two. From time to time, you must dive into a cubby hole mixed up on the flotsam and jetsam of commerce to allow a motorcycle to go by. There is nothing of everyday use one cannot find here.
We find ourselves voluntary prisoners, lost in an urban labyrinth that has felt footsteps, smelled spices, and seen exotic curiosities for over 2 centuries. Our said destination was neighborhood art that was displayed on sides of buildings, but it was the journey that filled the coffers of my mind and memory. For over an hour I don’t think there was a moment where I thought to myself “yep, I know exactly where I am”. On the contrary, when Diane would say, “what’s down that alley” I’d think ‘let’s find out.’ Maybe it was this cavalier attitude that simultaneously entertained us and got us lost. It wasn’t the kind of ‘lost’ born of fear, rather like wonderment and curiosity. Maybe Google Maps in my pocket gave us a net for our high-wire odyssey, but it still remained an ‘adventure’.
A few times we poked our heads out of the catacombs and found the necessity to cross a busy arterial. Four lanes of bumper-to-bumper cars, motorcycles cheating and driving between the sidewalk and cars. Sidewalks were just real estate, stolen from pedestrians, for more commerce. All amongst this were the people just trying not to get injured or maimed.
The smells are as loud as the sights and sounds. I remember being surrounded by the aromatics of cooking, then suddenly it was as if someone had quickly murdered a thousand ripe oranges as we walked by a fruit stand.
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Some final random thoughts:
There is an old and lost magic in getting lost, then found again. On our 4th trip to Bangkok, we traded the comfort of a guide for that powerful magic. In the past we’ve had ‘guides’ in the form of Thai friends who knew the city. When you are not going along for the ride, skills of getting around sharpen. This time we were solo and it felt less daunting and maybe more of a playground. The result was a slight shrinking of the metropolis and a doubling of our confidence. I wouldn’t go so far as to say BKK is now ‘our town’, but we could ‘guide’ uninitiated friends in the future.
The result is that… we like BKK even better. Not that we would, but we could even live there. That did not cross our minds before, but it came up in a conversation, after a glass of wine. Bangkok has everything that one would want from a city, and more. Chiang Mai is more our speed, slow and mellow, but we know where to go if we want to turn up the volume.
Unrelated…there is an oddity here in SE Asia, which at first, I thought was a quirky anomaly. Perhaps a remnant from the brothel’s era? Sometimes in apt/rooms there is a glass wall between the bathroom and the bedroom. A few years ago, when we first came across this, I had three thoughts in 2 seconds. Huh, huh? And HUH?!! Which went from confusion to horror. I simply have zero interest in seeing ‘that’. OMG!!! The frosted glass offers some dignity, but come on, really!!
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(Click photos to enlarge)
