Arrival in Bangkok

Gliding over the suburbs of bangkok on tiger airways flight 2104, it was apparent that Bangkok would be a city entirely different from Singapore. The view from above showed waterways and crowded streets splayed off from larger arteries at odd angles. A massive city of skyscrapers loomed along the horizon, partially hidden by the intervening cloud of smog. A massive mixture of cultures, old and new, this city clearly held many more surprises than the closely regulated island of Singapore.

We disembarked from the plane, and headed toward immigration. As each of us passed through the security checkpoint, the immigration official laughed at us because none of us had been able to correctly write down the address of our hostel. After clearing customs, we went in search of the bus line that would take us to our hostel. We discovered that the bus was closed, but were quickly approached by a man from a rival van service. He didn't know exactly where our hostel was, but nonetheless he said that he could deliver us there for 1500 baht. Being in an adventurous spirit, he haggled the man down to 1200 baht, and all hopped in the '90s decor toyota van.

With "Rock it like a hurricane" playing in the background, we sped through the crowded and frenetic highways of bangkok. Mercedes and Lexus dealerships dotted the street corners, interspaced with burger king, mcdonalds, and the ever-present 7-11. But in between were often slums, shanties with corrugated roofs and unsteady walls, men "hanging out" between freeway ramps, and concrete shells that apparently were buildings. The ride itself took maybe 45 minutes, and by the end of it I was completely disoriented. None of the streets seemed to follow any sort of plan.

The van dropped us in the middle of a street lined with hawkers. To my right I could buy Ray-Ban, and to my left St. Armani. The van driver had done the best that he could, and he couldn't do any more to help us find "5 Tani Street." We picked a direction and went with it. Luckily in Bangkok many of the street corners have maps, and a pushy young man asked us where we were going and pointed out how to get there on the map. We had been going the wrong direction, so we turned around and retraced our steps. Thanks to Pramod, we kept heading in the right direction, passing by stalls with cooked internal organs, more knock-offs, and beggars with adorable kittens. We were a train of giant white men. Somehow we managed to find the hostel, and we all sidled in.