Back in Bangkok, back in Khao Sarn Road

Thailand, Bangkok,
13 Jan. 2011.

The strong smell of black tabacco is doing a little Hunkpapa Sioux wardance insde my nostrils, having a small skermish withe the equally strong spicy smells of Pat Tai Chicken sold all over Khao Sarn Road at make shift fast food stalls...the smoker of this typically Thai tabacco rolled in strips of local newspaper, a hilltribe woman in tradional garb, hung with trincklets, Hmong iron earrings in the form of the Holy Elefant and a colorfull Hmong hat decorated with shining coins, eyes me shrewdly, her gums dark yellow due to a life time of beetle chewing, scaning my Farang face por possible interest in her little ambulant street business. For a short moment I detect the hand wrapped Bhurmese sigars I am so fond off but I manage to ignore yet another addiction in my life, instead hurrying on to the Gecko Bar in Soi Rambuttri, the place to go for people watching while enjoying a big bottle of Leo beer, cold to the touch, maybe get into a conversation with fellow backpackers about the ins and outs of this Asian kingdom, mystic and captivating even after all these visits, never mind King Bhumipol Himself has been in the hospital for the last two years, artificially being kept alive to avoid yet another uproar of the dregs of Thai society against the established succes of the Krung Thep Amataya - the Bangkok elite...

The Khao Sarn road is The backpackers mekka in the whole of Asia with numerous travel agencies, Internet cafes full to overflow with international mostly young travellers, Swedes with a serious suntan, half drunk rowdy Germans and totally smashed English lagerlouds who run around the place taking constants swigs from half liter bottles of Chang bought at the 7/Eleven or maybe Mart Supermarket, loud mouthed big *ssed female Israelis who have just retired from a two year stint in their army and demand to know of me the location of the Riverview Hotel, where to get off the 150 Baht airport bus downtown...

The Thais themselves whose lingo is so difficult to grasp though I tend to do better with each trip, their open character taking in first time visitors but never showing their real inner emotions, their coyless attitude to the number one sextrade of southeast Asia stunning even the most open minded johns who have heard all about it but blush in the face upon their first arrival, however get to learn the rules mightily fast...

I wonder if I should hit the Shukumvit nightlife later on, risking my very life taking a motorbike taxi or maybe turn in early, prepare for tomorrow's meeting with Nong, sleep the sleep of the innocent in a mega city where everything goes...