Getting out of Bangkok again

I had two beers last night, woke up today feeling dreadful. Maybe I should lay off the booze until after the marathon.

The Westin in Bangkok is admirably soulless, so I had a vaguely disappointing, transactional breakfast (when the doughnuts aren’t a source of infinite joy, something is very slightly wrong with the world and perhaps will never be right) then took the train to the airport.
If I can, I will never take a taxi to and from the airport ever again. Driving is at least an hour stuck in traffic, growing slowly nauseous and frustrated that your vehicle moves no faster than walking pace, or else is being driven at near lightspeed by a man who is intent on the sports pages of his newspaper. The train is a tenth of the price (or less than a twentieth of a limo service from the airport) and moves swiftly and smoothly above the traffic-snarled streets like a transport of delight.

Of course, it helped that Asoke station is right outside the Westin. I suppose that means there’s only one hotel I’ll ever stay in from now on, but travelling like this made Bangkok suddenly feel like a viable living option. Or perhaps I was still drunk on those Changs.

I had my boarding pass printed when I checked in at Changi so I breezed through departures. I had my computer in my amazing backpack and my belt in a plastic basket so I flowed through the security line, and then things ground to a halt at passport control. The officer on my line stopped processing passports and called over a Chinese woman, to spend ten minutes telling her not to take photos with her phone. It all seemed quite amicable though utter incomprehensible, until the third or fourth time that somebody pointed at the big "no mobile phone" sign on the wall, and then she went back to the end of the line and we started moving again.

Then all that was left for me was to prowl the halls of Suvarbharmi looking for homecoming presents for the girls (since December, all the Peppa Pig merchandise in the airport has inexplicably evaporated) and then go to the gate, where a ten minute delay in our departure was prodigiously apologised for. Ah, you don’t need to be so polite…

2 responses to “Getting out of Bangkok again”

  1. Feel for you man. Today’s commute for me involved waking up, putting on a dressing gown and walking several steps into the kitchen, whereupon I made some toast and a coffee. I then strolled about 3 years to my desk in the living room. Stanley has a cold or some such, so my assistant is manning the office today. I think you meant to say that “most things in cities in the Far East are admirably soulless”, not just the Westin!

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