Bangkok 2012 - Part 1

When viewing South-east Asia on a map, and using a modicum of imagination, we see Singapore as a tropical fruit grasped by the strong hand of Southern Malaysia. The combined peninsulas of Thailand and Malaysia are the arm; and there is Bangkok, nestled right in the pit.

Now, this is not some big, hairy road-worker’s armpit. This is the smooth shaved pit of the ubiquitous lady-boys, albeit with a nick and cut here or there, and like armpits everywhere, hot and sweaty. I was pleasantly surprised at the clean and orderly state of this city. This can be attributed to the nature of its inhabitants, unrivalled as they are in their ability to rally for a political cause, or together as a community when faced with the unprecedented level of recent flooding.

Within seconds of leaving the frosty air-conditioned comfort of the German manufactured airport train, I was drenched from scalp to toenail in perspiration: a sweat whose speed of arrival and volume can only be compared to that induced by a Scandinavian sauna. Unfortunately, the Bangkok version can't be tempered or relieved by periodic romps in the snow with nubile Nords.

I was suddenly grasped by the knowledge that if I didn’t maintain my hydration levels, my usual body fluid content would be drained away through every pore before I could say 'Yingluck Shinawatra'.