This is my 11th day, third city away from home and third major readjustment. My legs are coping just fine with all the walking but I wonder if my mind is beginning to struggle. I realise now that constantly having to adapt is, and will continue to be, tough, especially in places like this that are so far removed from what I'm used to. What makes this experience even harder is the fact I don't have a travel companion, just a few nice messages now and then from people back home. Maybe my choice to stay predominantly in private rooms wasn't the best.
After eventually leaving my hostel in Sukumvit, I took the subway to the city centre and main train station at Hua Lampong. The station is filthy and noisy. The roads outside are busy and largely unsigned.
I bought some water in the station. The screw cap just turned around and around and wouldn't pop off. While I struggled with the bottle, I was also struggling to get my bearings, all the while I was being harassed from all directions to take a taxi, tuk-tuk or motorbike. The further I walked from the station, the louder the screams of "hey, ride?" became.
I stopped a local and pointed at Grand Palace on the map and gestured at the six or seven roads to find out which one I should take. "Bus one", he said. That meant nothing to me. "And to walk?" I asked. "Too far", he replied. I plumped for a road and walked a short distance to a bridge over a river to consider my options.
I felt I was going through a period of depression and wanted to bring forwards my flight out of here. As I was going through the logistics in my head, an older local man came over and spoke. I could only hear the odd word due to the noise of the traffic: fish, canal, flood. The disgusting river was the last thing on my mind but I smiled and nodded and made noises of agreement. He asked if I had time to walk with him. I guessed maybe he wanted to practice his English.
We passed along a busy, narrow street where he pointed out the diversity of the shops and stalls: Chinese and Thai coffins (pictured below), Chinese medicine, kitchen sink taps, "you can take photos, do you have a camera?", second-hand goods, more Chinese medicine. He'd kept my map after showing me where we were when we met. I wanted it back so reached out for it at an intersection and asked where we were now. "If you have a camera, you could take photos of the street signs to show your friends." More shops: engine parts, sewing machines, eye glasses.
My paranoia levels were increasing so I said I was a little tired and wanted to head back. He suggested we catch a bus to the other side of the river but I said we'd come far and I didn't want to get lost, so, at that, I shook his hand and thanked him for the help. I turned to leave and he suggested we meet at the station tomorrow between 9:30 and 10am. I agreed, because I didn't have time to think, then left. Maybe he was just being friendly or maybe it was something more sinister; either way, the feeling of being lured somewhere and his apparent determination to know if I had a camera in my bag were a little too much for me.
Hua Lamphong must be the wrong part of town, surely. For a city so big on tourism, there are remarkably few westerners or folk with cameras.
On my way back along Charoen Krung Road, I stopped for a bite to eat at a Thai cafe. I ordered Pad See Iew noodles and a drink. The feeling of that iced coffee passing my lips was almost enough to turn my bad day into a good one. It surprised me.
1 comment:
Whooa, you were so right to be suspicious. That guy sounded very dodgy. It's always better to be on the safe side.
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