To reach this mecca of sin we took a two day train voyage and discovered, the hard way, the definition of 'Thai time'. A 20 hour train journey is a long time, and really isn't helped when another 5 hours are accumulated by random, unexplained stopping. English tourists that we are we tried to establish a reason for this fits and bursts method of travel and understood only why the Thais are known for massages - all that shrugging must put a terrible strain on the shoulder muscles. I was in my little train bunk for so long I had fully adjusted to it as home for the rest of my life and left it only to forage for food; darting back to the safety of the den at the first sign of movement. Never before have I felt such empathy for the life of a town mouse. Having said that, a rat I encountered in Bangkok the other night had such confidence and swagger about him I'm pretty sure he'd have taken me down if I had a bit more meat on me.
In between getting drunk and having Mexican stand-offs with obnoxious rodents we did have time for a little tourism. We saw the King's old palace which is so bling it makes Mr. T's entire jewellery collection look like the Primark bargain bin - of course in the face of such historic splendor we behaved with silent respect and awe...
The highlight of the experience was definitely our guide; who regarded it an opportunity for information exchange - he told us about the palace and I provided him with information on UK economic policy and a list of the airports (which come to think of it is a little suspicious - "yes yes, and what of the security at these airports?"). Still he was a nice man and we took a photo with him both to commemorate our time together and because it may come in handy with a future British Transport Police investigation.
Until next time, good night and good luck. This is CNN.
Peace
Joe
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