Bangkok airport at 8:30am is like a shopping mall at Christmas time.
I can barely bring myself to admit this...but I'm sitting at... Starbucks.
I'm so embarrassed, in fact, that I keep glancing around nervously in case I see someone I know. It's pathetic, I'm aware of this. But my options are limited. I'm hungry and I cannot stomach the thought of minced pork rice porridge. So I sheepishly slide into Starbucks and choose a croissant and a small americano and try to be invisible amongst the obvious American tourists.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
My Asian Fitness Haven
My alarm went off at 6am.
This is OK though, because I fell asleep at 7:30pm. I probably overslept.
I'm back from my run and I am shivering. It's probably about 36 degrees outside and 70% humidity. Did I drink enough water yesterday? I cannot remember. My skin is hot to touch but I am really really cold.
I take a shower. I lie down and drink about a litre of water.
The run was well worth it though - I wouldn't take it back for a second...
After running for about 15 minutes along the sidewalk of a very straight long road, I had been wondering if people here exercised. I hadn't seen any joggers or walkers. Not that I expected to - but I just wondered.
Then all of a sudden, a park came into view on my left and and no shit it looked like Central Park in the middle of summer. Walkers, joggers, people stretching, practicing yoga, Thai Chi, you name it - they were probably doing it. I veered left and entered the park. Anything to get off the road, and this clearly looked like the place to be exercising. I was grinning like a fool.
I spotted some young men coming past in running singlets and shorts. They were setting a good pace so I settled in about 10 paces or so behind them and kept up as we weaved through through this large recreational paradise.
I could even hear music playing somewhere. Wow. We need more of these in NZ! I was on this super dorky high, being surrounded by so many fitness fanatics. It was like some freaky Asian fitness haven designed just for me. Seriously. I was loving it.
And then that's when I noticed the photographer on the grass. I smiled and he snapped a photo.
Then someone overtook me and he snapped their photo too.
Another guy overtook me and being somewhat slightly competitive, I picked up the pace a little. They were going pretty hard and it annoyed me. 'Jeeeeez, it's not a race!' I thought. Just as it became glaringly obvious that it was a race. And I was smack.bang. in the middle of it.
WTF?
Who has a race event with no race numbers?
We approached a drink station. Oh what the hell.. I grabbed a cup and kept going.
I could hear cheering and the music was pretty loud now. We turned a corner and there was a long straight lined with photographers and crowds cheering.
Oh fuck.
Embarrassing? Amusing?
I couldn't decide... I was naturally leaning more towards embarrassing whilst still trying to see the funnier side of the situation.
People were photographing me. They were clapping for me. Reaching out their arms and cheering for me. How.the.fuck. did I end up here? I must have been so caught up in following those guys I didn't even notice the rest of the walkers/joggers fade away as we were clearly on the 'race track' now.
I couldn't help laughing now. So I was grinning madly, pouring with sweat, sprinting my little heart out and waving to the fully asian crowd.
Fuck, maybe I looked like a celebrity?
We turned another corner and there it was. The finish line. The finish line surrounded by media-type, officials and more runners/crowds. I couldn't bring myself to cross it.
Avoiding eye contact with anyone, I jumped over the little barrier onto the grass and sprinted off in the opposite direction. It would have looked hilarious to the people watching me. They maybe thought I got frightened or something.
I made it home in about an hour and 10 minutes and my clothes are hanging up by the air conditioning. They are drenched.
I feel a little better now.
This is OK though, because I fell asleep at 7:30pm. I probably overslept.
I'm back from my run and I am shivering. It's probably about 36 degrees outside and 70% humidity. Did I drink enough water yesterday? I cannot remember. My skin is hot to touch but I am really really cold.
I take a shower. I lie down and drink about a litre of water.
The run was well worth it though - I wouldn't take it back for a second...
After running for about 15 minutes along the sidewalk of a very straight long road, I had been wondering if people here exercised. I hadn't seen any joggers or walkers. Not that I expected to - but I just wondered.
Then all of a sudden, a park came into view on my left and and no shit it looked like Central Park in the middle of summer. Walkers, joggers, people stretching, practicing yoga, Thai Chi, you name it - they were probably doing it. I veered left and entered the park. Anything to get off the road, and this clearly looked like the place to be exercising. I was grinning like a fool.
I spotted some young men coming past in running singlets and shorts. They were setting a good pace so I settled in about 10 paces or so behind them and kept up as we weaved through through this large recreational paradise.
I could even hear music playing somewhere. Wow. We need more of these in NZ! I was on this super dorky high, being surrounded by so many fitness fanatics. It was like some freaky Asian fitness haven designed just for me. Seriously. I was loving it.
And then that's when I noticed the photographer on the grass. I smiled and he snapped a photo.
Then someone overtook me and he snapped their photo too.
Another guy overtook me and being somewhat slightly competitive, I picked up the pace a little. They were going pretty hard and it annoyed me. 'Jeeeeez, it's not a race!' I thought. Just as it became glaringly obvious that it was a race. And I was smack.bang. in the middle of it.
WTF?
Who has a race event with no race numbers?
We approached a drink station. Oh what the hell.. I grabbed a cup and kept going.
I could hear cheering and the music was pretty loud now. We turned a corner and there was a long straight lined with photographers and crowds cheering.
Oh fuck.
Embarrassing? Amusing?
I couldn't decide... I was naturally leaning more towards embarrassing whilst still trying to see the funnier side of the situation.
People were photographing me. They were clapping for me. Reaching out their arms and cheering for me. How.the.fuck. did I end up here? I must have been so caught up in following those guys I didn't even notice the rest of the walkers/joggers fade away as we were clearly on the 'race track' now.
I couldn't help laughing now. So I was grinning madly, pouring with sweat, sprinting my little heart out and waving to the fully asian crowd.
Fuck, maybe I looked like a celebrity?
We turned another corner and there it was. The finish line. The finish line surrounded by media-type, officials and more runners/crowds. I couldn't bring myself to cross it.
Avoiding eye contact with anyone, I jumped over the little barrier onto the grass and sprinted off in the opposite direction. It would have looked hilarious to the people watching me. They maybe thought I got frightened or something.
I made it home in about an hour and 10 minutes and my clothes are hanging up by the air conditioning. They are drenched.
I feel a little better now.
130km/hr
I cannot be 'present' when the taxi driver is driving. I must shut my eyes. It is the only way I can endure it.
Nobody indicates. It's madness.
The car shakes at 100km/h ... so why does he drive at 130?
Nobody indicates. It's madness.
The car shakes at 100km/h ... so why does he drive at 130?
White.
So the place I'm staying at is 3 months old. It's called the Airport Residence and Spa (for future reference). None of the staff speak English except for the manager and even then - I'm sure she doesn't understand half of what I'm saying the way she nods and smiles so much.
I think I'm the only person here. It's nice, but.
I take a cold shower. My room is big. And cool.
I change into some shorter shorts and a smaller singlet, I drape my camera over my neck, chuck 200 Baht into my pocket and stroll down the stairs outside.
The air is suffocating. It's thick and heavy. The sky is dark grey. Rubbish lines the streets. I stand with no purpose on the sidewalk, casually glancing left and right. To my right I notice some activity so I wander over.
Looks like a night market.. I smell food and the sun is low... probably around 6pm.
I feel completely.out.of.place.
I feel strikingly and uncomfortably white. And tall.
It's like everyone is staring at me. Well it's not like they are.. they actually are. I must look ridiculous. A gigantic white skinned girl with short shorts, jandals (flip-flops), sunglasses and a huge camera. What the fuck is she doing here? There are no other tourists in sight. No other white people at all actually...
But it turns out to be somewhat amusing. They like the camera. And they like my reaction to their pigs heads and dead fish and funny children. I (nervously) photograph a small child who has fallen asleep on a table next to a display of dead fish for 20 Baht a plate. The parents(?) laugh kindly and smile. I relax (a little).
I think I'm the only person here. It's nice, but.
I take a cold shower. My room is big. And cool.
I change into some shorter shorts and a smaller singlet, I drape my camera over my neck, chuck 200 Baht into my pocket and stroll down the stairs outside.
The air is suffocating. It's thick and heavy. The sky is dark grey. Rubbish lines the streets. I stand with no purpose on the sidewalk, casually glancing left and right. To my right I notice some activity so I wander over.
Looks like a night market.. I smell food and the sun is low... probably around 6pm.
I feel completely.out.of.place.
I feel strikingly and uncomfortably white. And tall.
It's like everyone is staring at me. Well it's not like they are.. they actually are. I must look ridiculous. A gigantic white skinned girl with short shorts, jandals (flip-flops), sunglasses and a huge camera. What the fuck is she doing here? There are no other tourists in sight. No other white people at all actually...
But it turns out to be somewhat amusing. They like the camera. And they like my reaction to their pigs heads and dead fish and funny children. I (nervously) photograph a small child who has fallen asleep on a table next to a display of dead fish for 20 Baht a plate. The parents(?) laugh kindly and smile. I relax (a little).
Lost in Bangkok
I'm pretty relaxed when it comes to travel.
So relaxed, in fact, that I forget to write down the name of the hotel I am staying at in Bangkok. No problem though. I have the address and about a million people or so offering me a ride. I ask a Thai girl if she speaks English (OK - I lie... Jake asks the Thai girl if she speaks English). She does - and she's a local.
"Take taxi outside. Fastest and cheapest way." She tells us.
So Jake helps me outside and into a taxi and looks somewhat concerned as I drive off in my taxi.
I'm not going to lie. I'm sorta scared. I don't recognise anything. I want to see something familiar and I feel pathetic because of this. Harden up P... you can handle this, it's not like you're in the middle of nowhere. You're in fucking Bangkok, a tourist MECCA.
So to make myself feel better I start conversation with my driver. It's hard because he understand nothing, but likes to pretend he does as he laughs and nods. So I think we're having a conversation but then soon I get blank stares. It's annoying and hard to maintain with enthusiasm.
Oh oh! I just saw a Nokia sign. It made me feel better. Safer. How peculiar...
I decide to ignore the irritating worried voice in my head and I start absorbing the sights.
Half an hour passes and so now I'm not sure what is more amusing/devastating:
So relaxed, in fact, that I forget to write down the name of the hotel I am staying at in Bangkok. No problem though. I have the address and about a million people or so offering me a ride. I ask a Thai girl if she speaks English (OK - I lie... Jake asks the Thai girl if she speaks English). She does - and she's a local.
"Take taxi outside. Fastest and cheapest way." She tells us.
So Jake helps me outside and into a taxi and looks somewhat concerned as I drive off in my taxi.
I'm not going to lie. I'm sorta scared. I don't recognise anything. I want to see something familiar and I feel pathetic because of this. Harden up P... you can handle this, it's not like you're in the middle of nowhere. You're in fucking Bangkok, a tourist MECCA.
So to make myself feel better I start conversation with my driver. It's hard because he understand nothing, but likes to pretend he does as he laughs and nods. So I think we're having a conversation but then soon I get blank stares. It's annoying and hard to maintain with enthusiasm.
Oh oh! I just saw a Nokia sign. It made me feel better. Safer. How peculiar...
I decide to ignore the irritating worried voice in my head and I start absorbing the sights.
Half an hour passes and so now I'm not sure what is more amusing/devastating:
- That we have just driven for more than 30 minutes in the wrong direction.
- That my taxi driver had to get out of the car and use a payphone to call my hotel and ask for directions
- That we are now in standstill traffic with over 300 Baht on the metre already
- Or that in our (very) broken English conversation, I still can't work out whether my taxi driver has 3 wives or 3 daughters. (Likely both).
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Above it all
I keep thinking how strange it all is. Countries and the like.
How every country has it's own currency, culture, rules, language, customs etc. And the airports are like the gateways into these different worlds. And then how each city/country must operate as a part of the wider context (the world). OK, I know this is uber obvious... but it's still fascinating.
Flying always gives me this odd feeling of being 'above' it all. And 'seeing' the way the world is put together.
It should be compulsory for all young people to travel. As soon as they leave school they should be put into a global travel/personal development programme. Experience different cultures, customs, etc. Work in a different city. Live in a different city. Volunteer. Experience less than what they are used to. Experience more than what they are used to.
How every country has it's own currency, culture, rules, language, customs etc. And the airports are like the gateways into these different worlds. And then how each city/country must operate as a part of the wider context (the world). OK, I know this is uber obvious... but it's still fascinating.
Flying always gives me this odd feeling of being 'above' it all. And 'seeing' the way the world is put together.
It should be compulsory for all young people to travel. As soon as they leave school they should be put into a global travel/personal development programme. Experience different cultures, customs, etc. Work in a different city. Live in a different city. Volunteer. Experience less than what they are used to. Experience more than what they are used to.
Jake
I meet Jake in Perth. (From Melbourne, we were flown to Perth and then from Perth we were flown to Singapore)
Jake is a pilot for Tiger in Singapore. Originally he's from this place just outside of Melbourne on the coast - he's a surfer. Cool.
Jake reminds me of a friend - Nick Harris - and so I instantly take a liking to him. It's funny how that happens, when someone reminds you of someone you like, you tend to like them too. Even if they just look the same! And likewise I suppose if they remind you of someone you don't like too much then that can be unfortunate.
So he's a pilot. He trained as a pilot as soon as he left high school. I can't imagine being a pilot. Already having been in transit for 48 hours or so, I just want to be grounded for a while. I look at the air hostesses and imagine what a feeling of permanent suspension/transience they must have. Are those the right words? I'm not sure. But it sure must feel weird.
Jake is a pilot for Tiger in Singapore. Originally he's from this place just outside of Melbourne on the coast - he's a surfer. Cool.
Jake reminds me of a friend - Nick Harris - and so I instantly take a liking to him. It's funny how that happens, when someone reminds you of someone you like, you tend to like them too. Even if they just look the same! And likewise I suppose if they remind you of someone you don't like too much then that can be unfortunate.
So he's a pilot. He trained as a pilot as soon as he left high school. I can't imagine being a pilot. Already having been in transit for 48 hours or so, I just want to be grounded for a while. I look at the air hostesses and imagine what a feeling of permanent suspension/transience they must have. Are those the right words? I'm not sure. But it sure must feel weird.
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