Published: 06.03.2018
When we arrived in Bangkok after a 12-hour flight with a layover in Dubai, we went through the usual procedure: queuing at the immigration counter for passport and visa checks. They also took a photo upon entry. After picking up our luggage, we continued our journey. We got a Thai Sim card and decided to take the railway to the center (Phaya Thai). When we arrived after about 30 minutes, we were confronted with the humidity and tropical temperature for the first time. We took a deep breath and braced ourselves.
At the end of the railway station, we met a German backpacker couple. We briefly joined them, but unfortunately, we had different routes. We split up and took a taxi with a fixed price (which is always worse than using the meter).
Once we finally sat in the taxi, we were relieved to be closer to our hostel. But to our dismay, the taxi driver started making small talk in broken English, and soon it became clear that he was a creepy person. Luckily, I was sitting in the passenger seat... A short time later, his hand landed on my butt/thigh. I pushed his hand away and said, 'Leave your hands at your side'.
The atmosphere in the taxi was tense, and shortly after, we were relieved that we could get off: not at our hostel, but on a side street of Khao San Road.
We walked through the side street, taking in the sights of Bangkok. We were hungry, tired, and sweating. With our backpacks, we walked through and found a 7/11 market (a supermarket chain found on every corner). We bought water and asked for directions to the hostel. They couldn't help us. Half desperate, we stood at the cash register when a girl approached us. She was French and had been in Bangkok for a week. She helped us, and 5 minutes later, we had directions to the hostel. After about another 20 minutes of walking, we finally arrived, drenched in sweat. The water was pouring out of every pore, and when I tried to use the fingerprint recognition on my phone to unlock it, it didn't work because my phone was completely underwater.
At the reception, there was another problem: 'no booking under my name.' I panicked and mentioned Airbnb (the app I had booked through). I only saw question marks on their faces, and after 10 minutes and 5 panic attacks, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. We could check-in. The girl at the reception pointed to a wooden staircase with a sign that said 'Take your shoes off'. Sweating profusely, we took off our shoes and walked barefoot up the stairs. At the top, we found a hallway with countless lights on the ceiling. The door to our room was unlocked, and when we finally stood alone in the room, we couldn't help but laugh happily. The room was nice and very clean. Edina immediately jumped into the shower, while I could hardly believe that we had finally arrived.
After a shower and a change of clothes, we finally walked to Khao San Road - our hunger was stronger than our lack of sleep. Due to the overwhelming sensory experience, we went to the nearest street food stall. 'The chef' behind it was wearing a shirt that was black with dirt. We didn't care. We ate Pad Thai for less than 50 cents, and damn it! - it tasted so good!
After a long walk, we walked back to the hostel and collapsed into bed, completely exhausted.
The next day, we woke up relatively early, and for a moment, I felt energetic. I jumped into the shower, but just 10 minutes later, the jet lag hit me: I felt like I had been partying and drinking all night. Totally exhausted, we went down to the terrace by the canal. We ordered breakfast and ate scrambled eggs, toast, and the most delicious mango on this planet.
Breakfast helped against the jet lag, and shortly after, we explored Bangkok on foot wearing flip flops. We took a tuk-tuk to Chinatown and treated ourselves to fresh coconut water. We continued on foot to the Memorial Bridge, Little India, and back. With blisters on our feet, we checked if we could return to Khao San by bus, and only 3 minutes later, we were sitting in a local bus with locals, especially many school children. The locals were very friendly and sociable, asking us where we wanted to go. An older Thai man even contacted the bus conductor (before he got off himself) and spoke to her in Thai while pointing at us. From their body language, we could tell that he asked her to tell us when to get off. The conductor, wearing socks in her ballerinas, came to us three times during the journey, saying 'more, more' and drawing a circle in the air. So we had to ride until the end. Along the way, school children waved at us and giggled.
When we finally arrived near Khao San, we still had a long walk ahead of us. On Khao San, we first bought sarongs and light clothes and once again ate Pad Thai - this time at a different street food stall, but again for less than 50 cents. I also ordered a kiwi smoothie. Simply yummie.
On our way, we stopped at a 7/11 and got a cold Chang beer. When we reached the hostel, we collapsed on the terrace in bean bags and watched a Komodo dragon swimming in the canal. We weren't done yet and decided to shower and then go to a sky bar. So we walked through half of Bangkok on foot and in flip flops and took the second to last ferry to the other side. We asked about the last ferry back and where the pier was. Two Thai women told us that the last ferry leaves from a pier further ahead at 11 PM. A few minutes later, we were sitting in the 342 Bar with a magnificent view of Bangkok and the illuminated Grand Palace at night. We treated ourselves to a Mai Tai and hot roasted cashews with coriander and chilies. Extremely delicious. A short time later, we were on the move again because the last ferry was an hour away at a pier we didn't know. Lost, we wandered through the streets and alleyways of Bangkok. Along the way, we encountered stray dogs and homeless people, people and animals searching for food. We passed by open 'homes' where 5 people were sleeping on the floor, military bases, and police stations. It started to thunder, and we gave up. The ferry was long gone, and we couldn't find the pier. We called a taxi, and a short time later, we found ourselves on the terrace of the Canale Hostel. There was an older man dressed all in white. His name was Peter, and he was originally from Holland but currently lived in Las Vegas. He made a living there as a tour guide for six months. The other half of the year, he lived in India, partly in an Ashram. He worshiped a certain Yogi and practiced 'Pranic Healing.' Shortly after, I was on the terrace while Peter tried to sense and cleanse my 'energy flows' (without touching me). He sent me healing forces in the following days. In that moment, I felt very stupid.
We said goodbye and later, we lay in our bed at the Canale Hostel, feeling safe.
The next day was still very exhausting. Our feet hurt, and we were still feeling the effects of jet lag. Today, we had to check out of the hostel, but we wanted to visit the Grand Palace and Wat Pho. We packed our backpacks and left them at the hostel to pick up later. In our daypack, we took long clothing because strict dress codes were enforced at the entrance to the Grand Palace. From here, a true odyssey began: we hailed a taxi. The driver asked us about the destination. We said Grand Palace and even mentioned the Thai name (which we had obtained from the hostel reception). 'Ahhh, okay'...it seemed clear to the driver, and we set off. Along the way, she kept speaking to us in Thai and pointing up and back. We didn't understand a word, and she kept speaking Thai and pointing around while laughing. I flipped through my Stefan Loose travel guide and kept hearing the word 'left,' trying to communicate with her using the guidebook. No chance. After 30 minutes of driving, it felt strange because the girl at the reception had said '20 minutes drive'. Suddenly, the taxi driver stopped at a shopping mall. We said 'NO! Grand Palace!' and even showed her a photo on our phone (every Thai knows the Grand Palace because the king is sacred in Thailand!). She seemed very surprised and mumbled words in Thai. The meter kept running. We continued driving, and after another 20 minutes, she stopped at a place guarded by the military. Thais were gathered there in their finest festive attire, and we got out wearing shorts and casual tops. We were looked at strangely and even laughed at. An officer approached the taxi driver and asked where we wanted to go. I only heard the word 'Falang' (written: Farang), and from that point on, I realized that we had been completely fooled. We had to get out, and the very kind military personnel asked us again where we wanted to go. Again, we said Grand Palace. Before being shoved into a minivan and then thrown out a few meters later, a ladyboy wanted to take a photo with us and the soldier. We felt fooled.
When we got out of the minivan, there was still no Grand Palace in sight. We decided to walk, and along the way, a tuk-tuk driver stopped. We got in and said 'Grand Palace' again. From his facial expression, we could tell that he knew exactly where it was, and when he turned on his homemade sound system and cranked up Thai music, we also got in the mood. But it was too soon to celebrate because shortly after, he stopped at a booking agency for bus trips to Chiang Mai. He wanted me to go in and book something, but skillfully, I only asked for directions to the Grand Palace. When I came out, we got back into the tuk-tuk. This time, the driver headed in the opposite direction and stopped at a restaurant. He was taking an hour break, but how were we supposed to eat here? We had had enough and gave him the money, leaving him behind. We decided to walk with the help of Google Maps, and nothing and nobody could deter us from reaching our goal :)
20 minutes later, we stood drenched in sweat in front of the Grand Palace, and we put on our long pants - yuck.
Inside the Grand Palace, the heat was oppressive. It was beautiful to look at, and I recommend everyone to see it once. In the prayer hall, shoes were not allowed. We took off our shoes and walked barefoot into the hall with 1,000 other tourists. Fungus met stinky foot, and we only stayed briefly. After a few hours and some spiritual moments, we walked out of the Grand Palace with a slight sunburn and just wanted to go back to Khao San. We got into a taxi, and after 5 minutes of driving, we were told to 'Get out'. We panicked and said, 'No, this is not Khao San. We drove more than an hour to get to the Grand Palace.' 'Yes it is,' was the driver's response. Edina panicked and checked Google Maps. Sure enough, we were on Khao San, and it dawned on us: we had been fooled the whole time. The Grand Palace was a 15-minute walk from our hostel.
Drenched in sweat, we walked to our hostel. Now we had to wait another 3 hours until we had to go to the Mo Chit bus station. From there, we would take the overnight bus to Sukhothai. Planned arrival: 5 AM.