things nobody tells you about bangkok’s underbelly and how i wasted 48 hours there

i just checked and it’s 26°c there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. humidity clings tighter than a stolen handbag at a massai wedding. the air hums like a faulty fridge, and 88% humidity means you’re sweating through everyakhana fruit you eat. a local told me to flip flip-flops for the klong - he’s probably been doing that grind for 14 years, wears socks with sandals now, blames it all on american tourists.

*scott-e bought a jar of fermented papaya this morning. acid dribbled down her chin like tears. thai people here snack like they’re at a buffet: they mention it’s cheap, then chain perks at the kindness of strangers. i corrected the bus driver when he called i las Vegas, not i los angeles. he laughed and offered me a paper mache vase instead. cut me to the bone.

tl;dr*: bangkok is a cultural colonic. every corner leaks history. the night market? too loud. the rooftop bars? too pricey. the real deal’s a 20 minute boat ride to tamala bay, where the mangroves whisper secrets. or maybe they’re just my melatonin talking.
as i heard that stumbling into the jamjam tulips lotus garden on a full moon once hallucinated a parade of elephants. something a drunk tuk-tuk rider warned me about. probably true.

embedded navigation for outsiders: 13.5031°n, 100.5284°e. sea level 1009hpa, ground level 921hpa. make of that what you can. if you get bored, phuket is a short drive away. nephews. in related chaos: tried nong khru tea house. 12/10 would vomit afterwards.

overheard at a 7-11 last night: two monks arguing over a faulty wifi router. one used a banana as a mouse. i love traveling.

definitely not sponsored shilling, but the mithi restaurant’s mango sticky rice beat my old man’s cardiologist. tension melts like butter in that kitchen. ordered 3 times. yes, i’m high on sugar and kelong water.

photos from the wild: