Bang

The bus ride to Bangkok contained about as much bullshit as we'd come to expect travelling through SE Asia, so nothing much surprised us during this day-long trip. Pointless 7am pick up to take us to the bus, wait there for 45 minutes, and then drive directly past our hotel on the way out of town? Yep. Musty old tin can with lumpy seats when we were told it would be a new coach? Mm-hm. Overly-talkative Swedish-Iranian businessman next to me explaining how he divides his time between Sweden and Cambodia, house and hut, wife and girlfriend? Ok. Draining 2.5 hour boarder crossing? Naturally. Arriving in Bangkok during rush hour? Whatever. We were pretty travel-hardened by this point, and none of this second-rate bullshit could touch us. In fact, anything less than a band of bus pirates hijacking our ride and robbing us blind could piss right off. We'd seen it all.

The transition from Cambodia to Thailand, however, was an interesting one. Buildings grew taller and roads smoother. The jungle thinned, then disappeared entirely, until only pavement, billboards and brand names ruled. Darkness gave way to neon light. We checked into a hip, modern hostel just 30 meters from the infamous Khao San Road, a place I'd hoped to find every bit as dicey, debaucherous and alcohol-soaked as I'd heard, but it was completely tame. Perhaps the party scene was played out, people had moved on, but I would have felt a lot better if I'd seen just one drunken shemale puking on a pantless foreigner.

Next day, we were talked into a 20 baht (66 cent) tuk tuk tour, the only catch being that we had to make a stop at a couple of preselected stores, so our driver would get a kickback. So the day whizzed by in a blur of buddhas and Armani suits, glittering wats and jewelery emporiums, a surging juxtaposition of spiritual traditions and modern moneymaking. After this, we visited the Royal Palace, the sparkling centerpiece of Bangkok, gilded to the gills, and bursting with enough bling to make Mr. T blush. But the most striking feature of the Royal Palace were its wall paintings, a series of mind-bending murals depicting warriors, ape-men, and gods in such epic scenes as divine death-matches and elephant battles, in all their glorious gore.

Later, after a great deal of haggling, we secured a tour of the surrounding canal system in a longtail boat; a slender craft propelled by an engine that looked like it belonged to an airplane. We ripped around canals lined with quaint wooden houses bursting with flowers, burnt-out buildings and rusty tin roofs, checking off another wat at sunset. We explored Khao San Road more fully after dark, finding a number of trendy restaurants, shops, and cheap drinks. Unfortunately, around 3am, some drunk, belligerent wankers made a point of proving they were dicks, making a loud, obnoxious entrance into our dorm, and keeping everybody up for a good 15 minutes. Apparently, Khao San had some life left in it yet.