The Big Mango

There is a small gecko hunting the mosquitoes that are hunting me.  I am sitting on my balcony at the back of the guesthouse, sweating slightly in the moist night air.  It is 80 degrees Fahrenheit and 80% humidity.  The balcony overlooks the maze and tangle of tiny walkways and damp rooftops behind the guesthouse.  It is the rainy season here in Bangkok, my most favorite of Asian cities.  Bangkok es mi barrio.  When I walk out of the chilly aircon of the airport into that first blast of encompassing heat, feel the caress of the moist air, I know I am returning home.  

The press of humanity on the airport train.

I am packing far heavier than normal, lugging a heavy carry on, my trusty shoulder bag and a huge duffel.  There are things that need to be carried from Seattle back to Vienna and I am paying the price. Although I will stow most of this stuff at my guesthouse, retrieving it for the run back to chilly Europe, I still have to get the cargo from the airport to my secret lair near Chinatown.  Alas for the traveler carrying big bags.

Here is how it is done.  From the airport, one can take a taxi to the city, but that is 500 baht, or five good meals in Bangkok.  And I'm stubborn.  So it's onboard the airport train for 35 baht (one dollar) with a transfer at Makasan Station to the Petchuburi MRT station.  The frigid aircon of the subway will chill my sorry ass until I arrive at the end of the line, Hua Lumphong.  The guesthouse is tucked up a tiny soi (alley) just off busy Rama Avenue.  

The chaos of rush hour in Bangkok viewed from the Phetchaburi pedestrian overpass.

Sweating bullets and smashed cheek to jowl on the airport train at morning rush hour, I am reminded that I am in Thailand.  At my stop, I have to lug my heavy bags past the crush of Thai folks and out the door.  Instead of grumbling as I bump into them, they offer to help me.  Welcome to Thailand.

It's easy!  Just follow the signs and for a mere 30 Bhat, the MRT will drop you at the end of the line.

I have some laughs with the security check lady at the entrance to the MRT.  She wants to look in my carry on, sees the toothbrush on top, and waves me through with a big smile and a "Same-same," the ubiquitous Thai phrase for all is as it should be.  Arriving at Hua Lumphong is to be back in my neighborhood.  Exit #4 puts me out on Rama, threading my way past the noodle stands and food carts, the smiling Moto taxi dudes and the Tuk-tuk drivers lounging in their tri-wheelers.  No Brothers, no fare for you today, I know where I'm going and it's not far.  I turn up the quiet soi, walk to the end, and there is my last stop for the day.  Twenty-four hours of travel to reach this place.  

The view from my balcony after a long-awaited shower.  With the travel crud rinsed from my body, I enjoy a good cigar.

I had every intention of heading out for dinner, but the lack of sleep caught up with me.  From six PM until 5:30 AM, I slept the sleep of the dead, waking on Bangkok time ready to go.  I was up and awake with the early rush hour and heading back out to the airport to meet My Heart who is flying in from Vienna.

So, Friends and Neighbors, Sa-wa-Dee-Kap from the Big Mango.  More adventures to follow, of that I can assure you.  As ever, Ciao for Now!