Wednesday 23 July 2014

Man, I feel like a woman

Our arrival in Bangkok could not be referred to as ‘smooth sailing’ by any remark. We got off our flight, I estimated around 10/11pm. Dazed, hung over and as always with me; generally confused about things and life in general, we were keen to get somewhere to stay and hit the pillow.

Whilst waiting for our backpacks to be birthed from the belly of the plane, it dawned on me that although we had booked some accommodation, but we had no money, no energy and very little will to do anything about it.

We were instantly bombarded by locals; offering us tuk tuks, offering us souvenirs; scarves, beads, buddas…We tried desperately to communicate with a Thai lady at the tourist office but the language barrier proved too steep for both of us and with the aid of a measly map, were left to sort things out for ourselves. We didn’t know how far away we were from the town, how much the going rate was for a cab, or what the exchange rate was.
Luckily this typical, nuclear Australian family from Melbourne, spied us out and took us under their wing. They had a mini van and it was heading to Khao San Road; which was close enough to where we wanted to be. Dad was wearing board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, mum was wearing typical ‘mum’ clothes and the assortment of pre-teen children had their hair in braids and flowers in their hair. Thank god for the Australians. They had it all sorted; it wasn’t their first family trip to Thailand, they knew where to go and chatted to us along the way. We were an unlikely group, with me and Ann being around 8 years senior to their eldest child, but they had it together; and a little bit of me wanted them to adopt us and take us around with them. Sometimes being and adult is hard.

But nonetheless, we tried to pay them for the ride and they pushed our money away, and soon we were left standing on the side of the road, backpacks and a measly map. After a lot of wrong turns, helpful strangers and a creepy guy shadowing us, offering the help us and then stalking us for a good 10 minutes we finally made it to our area. We were still being bombarded by locals trying to sell us things or talk to us, and every sensory system was working overtime to accommodate them all.

After we arrived at the ‘Swasadee Smile Inn’ we were confronted with a man of questionable sexuality and gender, who was incredibly rude. Like, so rude. We laugh it now…I don’t know, but we were tired and I was keenly aware of the friction and the sweat between my backpack and my skin.

We checked in, only to be confronted with a room that was in quite a state. Thailand hostels; ya gotta love em. We opened to door to our room, and it hit the bed. The whole place looked like a cheap brothel, satin pillows on stained sheets, holes in the wall and wallpaper literally peeling off the walls. Holes had been plugged with soggy toilet paper.

For $6 a night we were confronted with leaky bathroom, visible mould and an air con that dripped on our faces while we slept….I thought it was bugs crawling on my face and jumped up multiple times throughout the night. Our nightly slumber was restless and hot.

The signs on the doors advised us to lock ourselves in every time we went to sleep for ‘safetly’. The hostel staff also had to availability to lock guest inside their room by using a bolt operated on the outside. The shower was cold and you had to sit on the toilet to use it. I’m afraid to say though, it was by no means the worst backpackers I’ve ever stayed in.


Stay classy, Thailand.

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