The spinning globe below us, the ancient weaver of time, spun without sleeping and made three hours more than QF1. That lumbering airborne nursery wasted a quarter of the night in weaving only its children’s dreams. Thus, waking at 6am we rise and find the fields below our balcony reclining in the damp warm air, clothed in a lush garment of heavy leaved bush and banana trees, embroidered with the gaudy tin roofs and fences of Bangkok houses. But this overdressed steamy suburbia is denuded, without bells for this Sunday morning, Day 49, 10th July 2011.

Suvarnabhumi Airport last night measured 19C but weighed on us like 30C as we stepped out from its high-ceilinged air-conditioned halls of glass into parking lots under the hot blanketing night sky.

As we leave the hotel we realise that even our mere 5 hours’ sleep was made possible only by a Mitsubishi cooling box of industrial proportion. authentically, we ate rice for breakfast and surprised the staff by leaving the air conditioned dining room to eat with them at wooden tables shaded by the wide leaves of tropical branches. there was hurried native discussion over whether they should move to prevent us sharing a table with two young German girls.

We enjoy navigating a city where you can make three spelling mistakes in a single street name. We enjoy the streets, tak-taks, temples, the river,.. Much is different in Bangkok.



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