One Night in Bangkok...

And I felt like I'd made totally the wrong decision with my life. I arrived, as expected at around 11pm, and got lost on the way to baggage claim with a lovely Australian architect (we were too busy complaining about the bad aesthetic of the airport design and missed the baggage turn-off - ironic really). That was all okay.

THEN my taxi driver couldn't find the hotel I had booked, so we spent literally one hour driving around side alleys of China town (which was scary looking and deserted) in meaningless circles. I was losing the plot and seeing things I was so tired (I had, by this point, been awake for over 23 hours and my last sleep was only 3 hours). Once at the guest house, I almost cried when I saw the room and had a minor anxiety attack. There were gaping holes in the wall leading into plumbing and gutter areas, and in my sleep-deprived mind (and reality probably) a sea of rats.

I left the room, cancelled my reservation and told the lady she could keep 100 baht, but took the rest. Called a cab and went to the traveller's ghetto like the lame falang I am. I booked into a much cheaper, and cleaner, guest house and went to sleep to the sounds of football yobbos vomiting in the streets and dumb half-naked girls trying to come onto them. I felt like I was back in Otago, KC's had re-opened and I lived next door.

Things changed in the morning though, when the light peered through and I remembered - hey! I love Bangkok! Here's why: