Bangkok

Don’t start. Yes, Bangkok has a rude name and lots of unsavoury associations - ping pong shows, happy finishes, etc etc. But take your minds out of the gutter now, because as a sophisticated traveller I am above such lowbrow things. Pah - you people sicken me.

Cultured though I am, this was actually the first time I’d been to Asia and therefore concepts like 30+ degree heat and saturation-level humidity were rather novel. I’d love to say that I got used to this immediately but that would be a massive lie, and instead the scorching blast every time I stepped out from the shade or onto the balcony of our lovely air-conned room always caught me by surprise.

The other thing is, well… anyone who even slightly knows me will see through the above ‘citizen of the world’-style boasting as overcompensation for my safety-first, creature of habit personality. Making my way around a chaotic metropolis on the other side of the world without any language skills to fall back on was always going to be a challenge. And besides, Thailand is all sex tourism, amusing names and full moon parties anyway, right?

The taxi ride from the airport was not a gentle introduction, as Thai drivers seem to regard lane discipline and consideration for other road users as unhelpful distractions. Any bleating, elf-n-safety-gone-mad types should try being driven by a slightly crazed Thai gentleman, weaving in and out of the hard shoulder, taking handheld phone calls as he goes.

Meanwhile, as is my wont, I played spot-the-Western-influences with the buildings and billboards, the majority of which seemed to feature either Chelsea or Manchester United players (Juan Mata still in the former’s shirt, which added to the surreal feel).

The Shangri La hotel is a beautiful, top-notch establishment, and yet the entrance is tucked away on an unassuming street, a block away from a noisy, ugly intersection. If I hadn’t twigged at that point that Thai city planning is somewhat more haphazard than what us Westerners are used to, the location of the Jim Thompson’s House museum (up a tiny sidestreet, off a busy main road opposite the national stadium and a shopping mall) all but confirmed the fact.

Big Jimmy T's place

Thompson himself was an American officer who served in Thailand and loved it so much that he bought some properties and filled them up with all sorts of fancy Asian antiques. The museum is worth a visit, although my overriding memory is of a bunch of sweaty white tourists trudging barefoot around the rooms and trying to stand as close to the fans as possible. At least we were hardy enough not to require the shuttle bus option to carry us the few hundred yards or so back to the Skytrain station; although sadly one of our stomachs (mentioning no names, but interestingly not the one whose owner had never been to Asia before) was not hardy enough to cope with the spicy chicken soup we ate for lunch, and so the rest of our first day was spent in the luxurious confines of our hotel room.

View from the balcony - not too shabby

The Shangri La looks out onto the Chao Phraya river, one of Bangkok’s main features and its best way of getting to the main tourist attractions. The river boats certainly provide better value than the taxis, many of whose drivers will unscrupulously quote you excessive amounts for a journey rather than turning the meter on and charging a normal fare. So on our second day we headed upriver to check out the Grand Palace, Wat Pho and Wat Arun.

Grand Palace - managed to find a gap between the legions of Chinese

The former, home of the Thai monarchs until the early 20^th century and still a venue for official functions, state visits, etc, is magnificently gaudy and OTT in the way that Asian decorative art always seems to European eyes. Golden towers stand alongside dazzling jade and ceramic-studded temples. Statues of elephants and creatures from Buddhist iconography are all over the place. The main hall of worship contains the famous Emerald Buddha – which is not, it has to be said, a massive artefact and not actually made of emerald either. But, as is the case with sacred objects the world over, its status has accumulated over the years from being captured and recaptured by opposing forces as part of the spoils of war. It now perches on top of a massive shrine in a great hall that feels undeniably holy, where visitors are asked not only to be quiet but also not to point their feet at the sacred statue.

Speaking of conquering empires, there were by far and away more Chinese tourists here than from anyplace else, perhaps a sign of their country’s impending global ascendency. Although many of them do unfortunately come off as somewhat lacking in tourist etiquette, it’s worth bearing in mind that this is the first generation of Chinese where the middle classes have been wealthy and outward-looking enough to be able to travel in great numbers, so maybe the manners will come with time. Surreally, I was corralled by one teenager to pose with her for a photo, so somewhere in China soon there may be a tale being spun of a girl who went all the way to Thailand and managed to pull a tall, dark and somewhat confused-looking English guy.

He's big/He's gold/He's probably quite old/Reclining Buddha...

Wat Pho is a temple site whose buildings aren’t as impressive as the palace’s nextdoor, but which does boast an absolutely massive golden Reclining Buddha statue, which really needs to be seen to be believed (trans: I'm not clever enough to adequately describe it; see pic above though). It’s also home to the national Thai massage school, so although you can get a massage almost anywhere in Thailand, this is probably the best (and most legit) place. Yes, that does mean no happy finishes (at least not when your partner is being massaged on the bed next to yours, amirite fellas?).

Wat Arun: steep

Wat Arun is another temple on the other side of the river, whose chief USP is that you can climb a fair distance up its exterior. What the tourist books don’t tell you is that the steps are about as steep as steps can possibly be before outgrowing the name and becoming obstacles, and may actually cross that line when combined with the stifling midday heat. Therefore, it was back to the hotel for an afternoon siesta before heading out again in the evening, when it’s only a couple of degrees cooler but you take what you can get.

View from Moon Bar

We went for a drink at the skyscraping Moon Bar at the Banyan Tree hotel, followed by a fabulous dinner cruise, but I'm guessing you really want to hear about the Khao San Road. Subject of a million debauched backpackers’ anecdotes, some of which may even be true, for one of the world’s most infamous thoroughfares it’s actually not that big, but as an experiment in distilling pure hedonism into the most compact space possible it must take some beating. God knows how long people stay up till, but we got there just before 11 and weaved our way up through the umpteen dodgy market stalls and between the teeming traveller masses, then by the time we came back down to find a bar to have a quick drink, every available speaker had started pumping out punishing techno and the party seemed to be just getting started.

View from random Khao San Road bar - note Chang tower in foreground

I’ve now reached that tipping point in life where I can appreciate the buzz of such places, and indeed can sit in a bar, share a ‘bucket’ of unidentified liquors and enjoy perusing wristbands bearing slogans such as ‘I Y RAPE COCK’, whilst at the same time blanching at the thought of a Chang tower, feeling sorry for the local kids desperately trying to make a living from selling all sorts of tut, and being utterly thankful I’m not staying anywhere near that vicinity.

As we were in Bangkok for less than two full days, we didn’t have the time to do a lot of things. I’d have quite liked to ride in a tuk tuk, despite their reputation for taking you anywhere except your stated destination, or to go to the famous Chattachuk market, or maybe even spend a pleasant evening watching some Muai Thai fighters beat the shit out of each other. I certainly didn’t feel like I found the ‘essence’ of the city, but such concepts are overrated and unnecessary – and besides, I probably wouldn’t do a good job of putting it into words anyway. A city can be exactly what you make it, and what matters is having a good time.

Right, now for the beach…