Bangkok Boils

A heavy dome of smog descends on the city of Bangkok as the sun appears over the corrugated roof tops, setting the streets ablaze in an inferno of heat and sealing it's inhabitants inside an immense pressure cooker which rattles and fizzes with increased ferocity as the hours pass. Tuk-tuks, their drivers chugging down tiny medicine bottles of Red Bull, buzz through the narrow alleyways, swerving frantically around the street food vendors who push their aluminium clad carts along the kerbside. The whine of engines, the shrill calls of the street hawkers and the growing ring of crickets and cicadas echo around the fresh white walls of our forth floor hotel room. In the tree outside, a bird begins it's whistle like chant, drawing the local cockerel into a lengthy discussion which forces my eyes to open and another day in the world's hottest city to begin.

Bangkok is like a solar powered blender, blitzing up all of the best parts of our favourite cities with a splash of Thai spice. It is a place where the East meets the West, where cultures from every part of the world come together, where tradition swirls with modern technology spawning a seemingly autonomous monster of a city which roars along at light-speed, catching everything that happens to pass between it's heels and kicking it into the fray. Roads on top of roads, sky-trains and elevated walkways, it's sometimes difficult to know where the ground is. The place really comes to life at night when the heat of the day fades and neon lights cast a warm glow on the pleasure seekers below. Thai restaurants spread diners far and wide across the pavement on tiny plastic chairs, the zingy aroma of citrus and chili float in the air alongside the frantic intermittent chatter of Thai teens, broken only as they take long swigs from dewy bottles of local beer. As the energy builds, the bars begin to swell. Bangkok has everything from giant, booming emporiums of bass driven dance music, to dark, cosy dives serving bourbon and rum.  The latter being our favourite.  Long, narrow rooms cut between two buildings with makeshift bars built from scrap wood and nails, their walls adorned with vintage record sleeves and faded photographs of the much beloved Thai King meeting Elvis.  Somewhere int h shadows, a blues guitarist concocts silky smooth licks behind a twisting veil of cigarette smoke.

Between Bangkok's dizzying lights, the spires of gold edged temples sparkle in the moonlight and the steady twinkle of distant skyscrapers fills in the gaps, forming an enshrining wall around everyone and everything, a panorama broken only by the wide meandering river, a dark serpent slicing through the city which roars and gargles with the engines of public water buses, tourist friendly long-tails and giant glitter and glass party boats.

Bangkok held us captive for one week and we sweated our way through the busy streets each day, avoiding the many scams and cons, taking in as much as we could possibly endure before the heat devoured us and forced us to seek the shelter of our hotel room or a chilly movie-theatre. We drank far too much Thai rum in a tiny bar rammed with local college kids who took turns to play guitar, sing and beat-box (very well); we peered inquisitively into the clubs of the red-light district before making our escape; we strolled along miles and miles of marble flooring in various shopping malls; we watched the sun set over the river from a crooked little bar on the floating wooden ferry boat pier, and wandered in wide mouthed amazement through an enormous late night vintage market, set around a disused railway station.  Spread across the open train yards and tucked inside various wooden storage sheds and vast warehouses, the entire scene was lit by strings of sepia tinged fairy lights which gave light to some of the coolest vintage cars, clothes, antiques and furniture we've ever seen... Oh, and there was also one of the biggest markets in the world.

But all good things must come to an end and a couple of days ago we took a sleeper bus from Bangkok to Phuket, and this morning, a speedboat from Phuket to the sleepy island of Koh Yao Noi, where the majestic Waterhouse waited for us. This three bedroom wooden house, built on stilts over the sea and accessed via a small bridge, will be home for the two of us over the Christmas week. We collected a few cheap decorations on our way here and with the help of the Mothers (and the Royal Mail) who both sent festive care packages in the mail, we now have a very Christmassy looking living room. The tide is in and the jade coloured sea is lapping just a metre or so below my feet. The veranda and a large glass of red wine are calling...