Chapter 5; Southeast Asia, Tuk Tuk Thailand

Monday 23rd November 2015

The alarm sung at 4am, and it was far too early on that still dark morning, even for me. But onwards we continued, as you can never go back anyway. We heaved our packs down the steps and into the inky hostel lobby. All was silent apart from our apprehensive whispers on what was to come next.
Suddenly, within the darkness, an Indian man appeared who apparently worked the night shifts there. He revealed to be a lovely soul, as he helped us out with our arranged transport.
The mini bus was due to pick us up outside of the hostel at 5am, and mum began to pace frantically up and down when it had got to quarter past, and there was no sign of it whatsoever. I myself was straining to keep my nerves at bay as I scanned the street, sidestepping to occupy to mind. It was the only time that I remember seeing a street in Penang that was desolate. The Indian man phoned the company for us and said that it was on it's way.
"Do not worry, this is how our transport is, it will come, " he kept repeating the lines over to us, and we calmed down somewhat. He explained that he worked night shifts at the hostel and day shifts at a flower stall opposite.
"Soon I shall have to go to my other work!" he exclaimed, grinning widely. I felt bad for keeping him awake, but without him we would have been at a lost cause.
"We are sorry for keeping you up," I apologised, "but we really do appreciate your help"
His grin stayed planted on his tired face. "No problem, this is why I'm here!"
The mini bus arrived. After hugging goodbye to our saviour, full of gratitude, we climbed in. It was already jam packed full of other tourists, so it was literally a climb over their limbs to reach and sink into a spare seat. On my ticket it had stated that we were meant to have a van transfer to the main bus terminal station, but it turned out that the small container we were already in was delivering us all the way to Phuket. Oh, and the surprises didn't stop there. We were actually going to be getting two mini buses, but we were unaware of that until we arrived in a town named Hat Yai. We couldn't really complain as they were spacious and comfortable once you had gotten used to the constant jiggling around and the speed. It was of course, a natural way of Asian life to drive like an utter lunatic and make our dubious British hearts stammer.
The exit part of the boarder crossing was a breeze. Actually, even a little amusing. The guard looked up into my eyes as he stamped me out of Malaysia and gave me a shy grin. "Hey miss, you are beautiful and welcome back to Malaysia at any time." Oh boy. I returned a smile of my own and thanked him. Well, I certainly wouldn't have any trouble getting back into the country if he was to be there again. My ears even pricked up to the question that the young man had asked my mother, which was if I had a boyfriend or not. Still smiling to myself, I shook my head and briskly made my way to the toilet, as the minivan would leave us surrounded by dust and not care. The hole in this particular cubical was quite horrendous, and I tried my best not to cringe at the water that seeped in between my toes from the bathroom floor. Then it was back into our transport with wet feet and ready for the bedlam ahead.
The boarder crossing took a long time. Every queue snaked up and around the barriers, bodies like dominoes, individuals on the verge of exasperation. If one domino falls, all will. The mini van dumped us at the entry and drove off to wait for us at the other side. We picked a queue and began to wait. I flicked through my documents and almost dropped them in sheer panic. "Mum, I forgot to grab the papers that told us we are moving on from Thailand!" I had read that you are meant to have the documents on you for proof, to be stamped at ease. Mum was also looking at a sign that clearly stated the rule. "Oh Amber. Well there is nothing that you can do now." She was right, as the mini bus was a few metres away yet in another country, with my papers buried somewhere in my bag and laughing at my forgetfulness. I sighed and tried not to let my nerves rattle me. Surely we wasn't the only ones. Every queue seemed to be moving apart from ours, which did not surprise us.
Another passport stamp was produced in our British ID. One passenger who had been riding with us didn't get so lucky, and I felt a stab of pity as I watched him walk away frantically, deciding what to do within the small proximity of the area. Turned out somebody was legitimately going to be left in the dust..
And so, we were in Thailand. The wheels of the van scurried on, and time passed by as we spoke to a fellow English man who was sat next to me. He had taken part in the Penang marathon (which we had planned to watch until we realised what time the race started. 1:30am was disgustingly early to be out running). The humidity is the cause of why the marathon has to be throughout the night, and we praised the man for taking part in such a challenge. He parted with us at Krabbi.
The waiting wasn't over. We pulled up next to a little bus office, on an unexciting street somewhere in Hat Yai, and was told to stay there until the next minivan came along. The office interior was pleasant, but the further you went into the interior, the dingier it became. The boarder crossing toilet had been bad enough, but the state of the hole in that place was ridiculous. You didn't want to look anywhere but into your own closed lids. Waste lurked when you looked down, and the filth was so heavy on the ceiling that it could have dropped and draped around you, a cape of muck. But my bowels had shifted into a gear and I quite simply had to go. I muttered over and over that it could have been worse, flushed quickly and slumped back onto my backpack next to mum. She threw a knowing wolfish grin my way as she had been in the hell hole before me. "Mum, I had to go,” I exclaimed, throwing my hard into the air, eyes bulging out of their sockets, “ Like, GO..." She snorted. "You sound like me, but how on earth could you have gone in there?!" I snorted. "No holding on,” I replied, “ I just added to the pile of shit in there. I feel better now." It was gross, and I'm gross, but mother knows that so she just smirked again before sighing deeply. “All of this waiting…” she murmured quietly,

lowering her eyes to ground, her hand scratching her upper arm. I scanned the street once again.
The minivan was sure taking it's time, but it turned up at least.

The remainder of the journey unfolded uneventfully, and our drowsy eyes struggled to keep up with the oncoming sights of Phuket town out of the window. We were dropped off just outside the Southern bus terminal 2, and we scrambled up the small incline into the building. I had researched into which local bus we had then needed to board, and it was thankfully only a short wait for it until it pulled in. We were joined by no others as we stepped onto the windowless, wooden automobile, and used our first batch of thai baht notes for the cheap fare. The open air was a gift after being cooped up inside a stuffy van for almost the entire day. Darkness slowly began to draw it's first curtain above us, causing the street lamps to languidly light up, symbolising that dusk was upon us. The drive took a brief twenty minutes, and the receptionist smiled at us sympathetically as we wrestled our luggage off to rummage for our identity. She tapped away at her computer, then hopped out of her chair. "Okay, you are checked in! Follow me, I have put you in upgrade room." I hissed out a yes to mother and a wave of relief transitioned onto her face. We had been looking over the reviews on Hostelworld on the accommodation, but I failed to see why so many had something to complain about, with or without an upgrade. Our room was ambrosial, with charming artwork hanging from it's summery walls, and it catered all of the necessary amenities. Especially the fan that was stood boastfully in one of the corners. It knew that we were going to be using it. Being tired and hungry, we sorted out what was only required at that time and then set off into the what was then full darkness, commencing a search for food.

http://www.phuket.com/phuket-magazine/phuket-local-bus.htm

The people that we mostly saw along the streets were locals. The majority of tourists usually stay and kick it back by surrounding sands of Phuket, but for us it was refreshing to be residing in a quieter area. After a fifteen or so minute treasure hunt, we found a swanky looking eating house that rewarded us greatly with thai curry. Buried under the blanket of noodle that sat before me must have been some kind of chilly, because my mouth exploded with fire. My sweat level intensified and I had to guzzle down a gallon of water, but the overheated uproar had been worth it. Totally full up and exhausted, we decided on an early night. Fan on, lights out.

Tuesday 24th November 2015

A single full day was all that I had planned for us in Phuket. With the short time span in mind, we made the decision to transform ourselves into typical tourists and squeeze every drop out of the place. Rejuvenated from kip and surprised from an unknown free breakfast in the morning, our happiness levels had sprialed upwards and our minds were eager for the busy day that awaited. We chewed on some toast and sipped coffee as I googled the local bus services to take us to the beach of Patong. The bus station sat only a minute or two up the road. After some puzzled communication and various finger pointing at different buses, we climbed aboard the steps of one of the wooden based vehicles once again, and

settled for the ride. We didn't have the bus to ourselves, unlike the previous experience. The closer the driver bobbed his way toward the beach, the busier it became, and we found ourselves to be sandwiched snugly in between various mortals. By the time we had detached our asses from the wooden seats, our feet solidly set on pavement, the mass of people had quadrupled. The town was bedlam. Everywhere dripped tremendously with tourism. Holiday makers were already inebriated before the hour of noon. Seemed to me that their brains resembled sponges, soaking up everything and anything alcoholic. The main strip of bars were heavily stained with debauchery, showing no sign of control over rules or regulations. Males, females...she-males... anything and everything was outgoing and not stopping. We reached the end of the strip and hurriedly crossed the road to be on the side of the beach. I imagined the shores to be stripped of beings, the ignorant destroyers, as nature is always pleasing for ones eye and soul. There can always be a way to discover the trampled, true beauty that connects with insanity.

http://www.phuket.com/island/beaches_patong.htm

We continued to walk among the drunks along the shores and turned into a street that was lined with tour agencies. We eyed up the sellers and stopped at a place where we felt comfortable with. Two phone calls and ten minutes later, we were booked in for a combined tour of the famous Big Buddha statue and an elephant ride. We thanked the booking officer and jumped into the taxi after it had pulled into the street.
The tour was conclusively worth the baht. As well as the Big Buddha and Elephant ride, our small group of six made a first stop at Wat Chalong Temple Chalong, allowing us to explore the fine detail of the traditional Thai architecture. Chosen colours of reds and golds stood proudly and predominantly against the white structures, with the warm tones merging sweetly into the aura of peace that sailed through the air.

http://www.wat-chalong-phuket.com/

Despite the vast amount of controversy that is thrown around about elephant trekking, I enjoyed the experience that I never had ever considered doing or thought that I would ever do. There will always be an ongoing argument about which sanctuaries are good or bad. Even the good ones get pissed on by pissy people, because of the lapsed treatment the animals receive. The conditions will obviously be worse due to that part of the world being poorer in general, and I of course can understand all opinions, but you do not have to voice it violently over the internet. Will it get you anywhere? Probably not. Nothing is perfect, that word should be obsolete. The elephants were calm, their appearances healthy. Our elephant guide was absolutely hilarious. His intoxicating laugh echoed deafeningly outwards into the jungle that surrounded us. As he sat in front of us and held the reigns, he explained that

Charlie Chaplin (the name of the male elephant) had five girlfriends because of his (true quote here) 'big banana'. Tears were almost streaming down my creased up face. The guides actions whilst storytelling were amusing enough on their own, let alone the words that were spilling out from his mouth. The giggles continued until the end of the ride, as we were thrown forcefully left and right in a fun manor on the elephants back.

http://www.phuket.com/phuket-magazine/phuket-elephant-trekking-camps.htm

The mood dramatically sobered up at the Big Buddha. Jokes were set aside and laughter discontinued. The women had to cover up their knees and shoulders, so we were given shawls to wear during the visit. I wrapped my borrowed shawl around me tighter as I stared up the dominating Buddha statue that was sitting there in absolute contentment and composure. I bowed my head silently in respect. There were others that displayed nothing of the sort, which set my blood to boil after I had left the site. A girl had simply wanted to pose against the landscape viewpoint, and revealed a great amount of flesh in an attempt to arouse sexual energy in front of the camera lens. She clearly did not care for the sacred environment, and I had to refrain myself from the temptation of tying her disregarded shawl around her throat and wiping that idiotic pout from her face. The Buddha however, would not waste such time and effort with people like her. I sighed and released the

anger. For there are many that will never be able to remove their ego, only fuel it.

http://www.phuket-big-buddha.com/

Time had run off, resulting to sheer panic back in Patong to catch the last bus back into Phuket town. We thought that the pick up point would be the same as the drop off, as the buses loop. But no, that wasn't the case. The majority of taxi men that I asked for help didn't give us any help at all, as all they wanted to do was persuade us to get into their own method of transport, and rob us sneakily of our money. One driver however, stated that we were standing in the wrong place.
"You have to go down to the end of that street, and the bus picks you up there." He explained, pointing down the main strip where we had walked from. Mum strung a curse of sentences together once I had thanked him, her hands violently shaking in frustrated movement. I concealed my snigger as we walked down the strip of sin, where the behavior was only plummeting down into an abyss of hell. The gateway to gluttony was always open in every drinking hole. With being weak and needing food for fuel, I had gone beyond the point of frustration. The peace of the Buddha had inspired me. The situation was a little funny, but I didn't dare laugh directly in front of mother at that point. It was a bull in a china shop kind of moment.
And so, we found ourselves on the beach pathway again, still clueless as to how we were to get the final bus back. There was no sign of a bus sign post, only sights of gathering tourists who were drunk and prepared for the calamity of the night. I spotted a police officer that was stood outside an information office, and boldly asked him about this mystery machine that was becoming more and more of a myth. He told us to wait where we were and it will come. We should have known that the words 'Asia' and 'punctuation' do not agree with one another. There was nothing we could do but monitor the tumultuous traffic. I paced up and down, thoughts filled with beef and noodle, as mum tapped her foot, her rhythm as constant as the sound of the vespa engines that darted feverishly past.
The mythical last bus came into view at last some fifteen minutes later, and we had to pinch ourselves to be sure that it wasn't the imagination. An abounding wave of relief blanketed us as we headed out of town. The vehicle was old, complete with shattered windows and no doors at the front or back, but just open spaces. The wooden seats were hard and hurtful as the bus wheezed and spluttered along the start stop road, but the experience was one that we were getting used to by then. We reached our destination by nightfall.
It felt welcoming to be back in the quiet town. Our hunger was eradicated by a local restaurant with a meal that cost an inexpensive two pounds each. Then we retired to the hostel for the remaining couple of hours that we would only manage to keep awake for. There is a rice wine sold in bottles in 7/11 stores around Thailand called Siem Sato. It is cheap, local liquour and strong. It reminded me of the taste of perry cider, so I washed it down with an ease. Maybe too easy, as it went straight into the roots of my brain. Mum twisted her face into one of disgust as she took in it's taste, so it was all for me. It certainly assisted me with sleep. We sipped our drinks in the open spaced front terrace of our guest house, relishing the low volume of the street, and entertained by the ladyboy club that sat on the opposite side of the road. It would only be some time that our pleasure would be interrupted.
"Hey, you need taxi?"
I gave the man who had appeared at the hostel steps in front of us, a glare. "No thank you, we are staying here."
Instead of walking along and pestering somebody else, he sat down on a step and turned to face us. Mother answered his typical questions about our trip, and grew more weary of him as he persisted.
"You like rock music?" he asked, the gaps in his teeth visible as he grinned, "I know a rock bar not too far from here, I can show you it."
Anything to make money...we must have said the word no about a thousand times. Mothers wit came into play and she pointed to the club opposite. "Okay, well why don't you go into that club then?"
The taxi driver turned, then looked back sheepishly. "I do not go to places like that one."
Mum folded her arms. "Well, we don't want to go with you to this so called rock bar."
I sat there giggling away, enjoying the banter between them. I imagined that this so called rock band in this rock bar would consist of one man only, playing an instrument that was far from something electrical. Probably a banjo or something. We could see that the driver was admitting defeat, and eventually rose up onto his feet, internal walls crumbling. "Okay, well good luck on your travels! Where are you going next?."
"Cambodia, then Vietnam," mum answered.
"Ah," his missing teeth showed again, shadowy squares locked into his smile, "look out in Vietnam, the stray dogs are BBQ."
We studied him, eyebrows raised and smiles lurking at the corners of our lips. "BBQ?"
"Yes," He replied, "as they eat them!!".
He cackled mechanically and eventually walked away.
We erupted into laughter, being slightly drunk and marveling over the randomness of it all.

Wednesday 25th November 2015

Our bus that was due to take us to Bangkok wasn't until the early evening, so we explored our preferred central town of Phuket a little more. Google maps took the lead and we put our faith into the blue dot, to take us to a shopping centre. A healthy four or five floored building with plenty of stores to pace leisurely around, under the coolness of the air conditioning. One souvenir place presented some excellent items, where everything was priced at only 100 baht. Mum took full advantage of the bargains and purchased a rucksack load to take back home for the family. An unforgettable moment was created during our time in the shop, and it was only a simple gesture, of mother trying to say thank you in Thai to the shop assistant. The wording is 'Kob Khun Ka" and mothers voice came tumbling out with them, along with a small bow, palms pressed together for curtsey. The assistant laughed gleefully, hands squeezing one another, and she shook with a joy.
"Ohhh!" she cried out, almost ecstatic. "lady speak Thai!"
I had to turn away and disguise my snort for a cough, because it was damn funny. We still repeat the phrase to this day. She seemed to had been very overjoyed by the fact that mum attempted the native language. After that escapade, I was never going to be able to say thank you in Thai to anybody without wolfishly grinning.
Anyway. I, for once, spent 100 of my own baht to buy some elephant patterned pants, which was an absolute brilliant buy, as I still wear them frequently to this day and always reach to top levels of comfort. Comfort rules. It was a typical travellers purchase, and I would from then onward blend in with the majority of backpackers. However, most would not be wearing a death metal shirt for their top halves, so you would still be able to spot me in the crowd.
For dinner we dined in a Vietnamese restaurant. We shared an amusement, to discover that there was no dog on the menu whatsoever.

http://www.phuket.com/shopping/central-festival.htm

Before we found ourselves sat on the pink local bus to the terminal, we said goodbye to the receptionist and to two fellow male guests who were sat on the terrace. The two men were German, and had been sitting noiselessly in the same chairs since we had arrived, only moving when it was required. It happened to be that they enjoyed the simple action of raising their arms to their mouths to either drink their endless supply of Chang beer bottles, or to click away at the guest house computer. We were leaving when they were each doing precisely this, and had DJ Tiesto booming out of the computer speakers, as if preparing for a party. We wished them well and bopped down the road to the uplifting trance beats until it grew out of earshot.

The traffic was a hell of a lot thicker returning to the bus terminal that afternoon, and I remember my determination level being in full focus, as I tried not reach down into my pocket, to keep checking the time on my phone. Going at a pace no faster than a snails, the bus braked heavily on and off, chugging with weak strength, which gave us an opportunity to watch the natives act in their everyday way, plotted in their vehicles and accustomed to the unsystematic congestion. An open aired truck crept up next to us, packed full of workers huddled together, done for the day and ready to relax. They noticed us and couldn't help but stare in wander. Oh look, westerners! I flashed my teeth and waved, grateful for the distraction and receiving friendliness. Although we didn't make it to the terminal at the time we would have liked, we realised, as we pulled into the living quarters for buses, that there was still an hour or so before ours was due to depart. The check in office was the first port of call once we were through the swinging entrance door, and sliding along the cool marble. The office was full of women, yapping loudly away about who knew what, a mixture of curiosity and ordeal hovered within the cave sized walls. With hands throwing shapes of dramatic gestures and hyena like screeches, I speculated on what on earth they were speaking about. I had to suppress a smile as the lady boy, sat in an office chair directly in front of us behind glass, handed over the tickets and fluttered his fake, thick eye lashes. His shoulder length brown hair swished and his eye shadow was neater than what I could ever paint on myself.
We pre peed and purchased a couple of nibbles before boarding. As we were one of the first couples to board, we managed to snag a front row seat on the top deck. The seats reclined so we rocked them back to collect as much comfort as possible, as a long-lasting lounge in our elephant pants was ahead of us.

A bottle of water and a generous cake was given to each passenger, then the telly that was set up right before our eyes switched automatically on. It looked like a movie was to be unveiled for entertainment before silence and slumber would overtake.
Mother was quite excited for a film, but her excitement soon demolished because it was in Thai. With no subtitles.
"Hey well it's better than nothing right?" I nudged her, teasing, my eyes semi closed and getting a kick out of her disappointment like an asshole. I'm sorry, but it was funny.
"Oh it's just pathetic!" she replied, tutting out of annoyance and tearing the plastic that covered her complimentary blanket aggressively free, to pull it over her. "Surely they would have at least subtitles in fucking English!"
...Nope!!!!!

Phuket To Bangkok vice Versa bus info-https://12go.asia/en/travel/bangkok/phuket

I woke up with the sun, and I watched it rise, striking, over Bangkok city. It's rays began to caress the tyrant of buildings that spread across the land, already a much busier, wealthier vibe than Phuket. We were driving on the outskirts of the capital, the city known for anything and everything to take place. The traffic began to build and we were at a standstill for a while. Car tail lights stretched out into depths of the architectural horizon. I watched mum as she drifted in and out of her slumber, with the morning rays gently touching her still youthful skin, moving in motion with the heavy rise and fall of her chest. A sleeping beauty. Out the window, I noticed school buses that were, with children bundled together, awaiting studies scheduled for the day. Their bodies were all squashed together, their faces set in various angles to avoid contact with one another. So many mortals, so little space.

Thursday 26th November 2015

The bus pulled into the terminal a little after 8am. The terminal was a giant, but we managed to find the taxi rank after going around in one or two dizzy circles. As the driver was taking us to the sky train, mum suddenly tensed up in her seat. Her back stood rigid, her face transforming into an expression of horror, eyes wide and mouth open.
"Oh no Amber, I have left my souvenir bag on the bus!!!"
Oh. Well, fuck. I suggested to her that we could turn around and go back to the station, but exhaustion was painted all over her face and she declined the idea.
"Well..." I sighed as I tried to think of an idea, "... Let's just get to the hostel and get them to help us, as there is nothing that can be done at the moment."
Mum's face creased up and she began to sob. I could only try to soothe her, hush her hitching of breath, and tell her that it could have been worse. She could have left her passport or purse on the bus, so leaving a bag of cheap souvenirs behind wasn't the most distasterous thing.
The BTS train system was cheap and easy to work out. It reminded us of the sky train in Singapore, and being able to solve the method of the train was proof that we were growing more accustomed to the Asian world every day. Through experience we gain knowledge, and our senses were sliding into a local tune within each country.
You can get a thirty day card pass that is valid for fifteen individual trips, and it costs around seven pounds. The hostel that I had made reservations for, wasn't in the central of the city, so we had to wave our arms frantically, like lunatics, out on the thronging lanes to haul down a taxi. Flagging down a taxi proved to be almost as difficult and frustrating as searching for a needle in a haystack. Drivers would either not stop, or already be occupied, and the rank that we were stood at wasn't situated in the easiest of places. My arms shot out, swinging rapidly around, my eyes frantic, rattling away in their sockets. I had to watch out for the off shoot pathways on the crossroads, where tuk tuks would appear from a secret place, and direct themselves right towards me.
"You want tuk tuk, you want tuk tuk?"
A broken record, I seemed to be hearing.
No, I did bloody well not want a tuk tuk. Eventually, we succeeded in our mission, and I had to grab hold of the taxi car to confirm that I was still in reality. We arrived at our hostel ten minutes later, limbs still in tact with bodies. Our room was still being cleaned, so we recovered in the chill out zone until we were given our key. Mother explained to the receptionist about her missing goods, and it took a grand total of around five fast minutes on the phone, to find out where they were residing. The receptionist was a young woman, with a tongue that was deeply fluent with a clean English accent, and used her native language to exchange locations and addresses, so we could go and retrieve the lost. The bag was sat in the lost property of the bus company office that we had rode with, next to the old bus terminal. At the time, we didn't know that it was the old terminal, but I will get to that part of the story later. I was splashed with the waves of relief that rolled over mothers face, and I was keen to see her gradually returning to her normal state.
For the remainder of the day we decided to explore Siam, which was the central for shopping. We were hungry (like always) and

went to order a quick meal in the food court, thinking that the process would be straight forward. But alas, there was always a surprise. It turned out that you needed a certain pass to pay for any meal within the quarters of the court, and it seemed to be quite troublesome to get one of them. I stared blankly around at the masses and tried to figure out what this magic pass was, so that we cure the stomach cramps. But no, I failed.
"Screw this place" I said, too tired for obscurity, and stalked towards the door. Inhaling the rich, intense smells were too much. Mother sighed silently, yet followed suite. We found a local independant restaurant on the other side of the main road, opposite the extravagant shopping mall, that required no stupid pass. I happily threw down my money on the table, satisfied with the intake of calories.

https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g293916-d2632570-Reviews-Marina_HK-Bangkok.html

The trek to the bus station was long, but as we had so much to grab our attention at on the way, we wasn't concerned or focused on time or duration. We were surrounded by tall, monstrous buildings, that towered over us and reached upwards into where the stars of space were gleaming. The city is constantly on the move at a consistant fast pace. There was something happening down every street, a surprise on every corner. The atmosphere was showered with wealth, but you can still feel the undertones of sleaze and the slums, in certain parts.

Tuk tuk drivers dominated in terms of vehicles, and we had to watch out because they would creep up on us, as sneaky as a spy. The drivers would pedal their little legs beside us and repeatedly ask if we would like a ride. They only seemed to accept the turn down after the tenth time of asking. I admit, I gave them credit for their persistance, but they were, at times, a huge pain in the ass. When the hours early evening came upon us, our patience had worn thinner, and it was the first time that a tension had built up between mum and I. Her exhaustion had swooped down, captivating her, so her replies back in conversation were short or snappy. We trod carefully on the main road, as the pavement had suddenly ceased to exist. The cars zoomed dangerously by, a little too close to our liking. My own fatigue, and the toxic tension that hovered in the air, had driven me a little closer to insanity, so I cackled over the danger and allowed the adrenaline of being on the brink of death, turn me crazy. It was more of a possibility that mum was going to murder me instead of the speeding cars. I carried on laughing as the roaring engines drowned out mothers antagonising screams, barely hearing anything behind me.
"Amber, you slow down right now!!" her shouting just a distant, faint sound to my ears. "Are you listening to me?! AMBER, YOU ARE GOING TO GET US KILLED!"
I turned around and supplied her with a devilish grin, fueling more fire. Our patience with the souvenir retrieving mission was on a dangerously thin line, the tension between us almost exploding.
When we were told that we had gone to the wrong bus station, It surprises me still that no explosions occurred. Not. Fucking. Cool. Also, to add to the haphazard situation even further, there had been an accident on the road that lead to the correct bus terminal. That wasn't going to be on the cards for that evening. Our mission had failed, and we could do nothing but accept our failure. I placed my arm softly around mums shoulders, as a comfort seemed to be crucial.
"Look, we will sort this out tomorrow. I think it's best we just go back to the hostel and have an early night". Mum looked at me, red puffy eyes processing a little sadness, a weariness settled around the rims. "Yes, your are right, Amber. I'm sorry, lets go back."
We began to walk out of the confusing terminal, slowly, tiredness dragging us down. "I'm sorry too," I said, "Let's get some beer and rest up." I smiled at her, ignoring the surrounding bedlam of the travelers around us, the bright light becoming dimmer, seeking out positivity from the extraordinary woman beside me. The corners of her mouth raised up slightly, like sun breaking through the clouds, and that was enough for me.
We took the sky train back and raided the 7/11 stores until I had a bottle of the Siam Sato rice wine sat in my rucksack. Our private room supplied little light, but I found myself to be quite humbled by it's dark ambience. We sat, and propped our feet up on the single beds that were situated side by side, and plonked our bigger than average sized bottles on the shared bedside table in between. The previous tension had dissolved and the two of us laughed over the experience. Because, why cry? Both vocal and typed conversation passed between one another and to friends overseas as we sipped our drinks leisurely, until the bottles were depleted and our eyes could no longer focus.

Mochit 2 station-http://www.transitbangkok.com/stations/Bangkok%20Bus/Mochit%202%20_%20Northeastern%20Bus%20Terminal

Friday 27th November 2015

The room was still shrouded in a darkness when my eyes opened, and I gained conscious. The lack of windows did not affect my mood however, which had been uplifted from last nights antics. Mother was in a far better condition too. We were the brightness in the room that morning. The two of us took it in turns to soak our bronzed skin under the communal shower next door, and to study our refreshed appearances as we brushed our teeth in the hallway. The sink wedged in between the shower and toilet, was decorated plushly with tiles of various blues, decorated with a

pattern of vivid flowers, displaying a calming, oriental theme that spread throughout the hostel. The adorable faces that were embedded onto our toast greeted us happily, and I could not help but mirror their beams as I spread butter across them. Two happy faces, two happy souls.

Pridi Hostel-http://www.pridihostel.hostel.com/

Rejuvenated, we stepped outside after breakfast to begin round two of collecting the missing souvenirs. The sun was already scorching, it's strength and sweltering humidity had my sweat soaking through my shirt in no time. Part of the journey to the old bus terminal required a ride on one of the local buses. The bus option was far cheaper than a taxi, and I recommend it if you are able to withstand the old bus conditions. We took the ride in our stride as it was a similar vehicle to the one we had boarded in Phuket, a familiar sensation. The old terminal was far smaller than Mochit 2, but we still requested guidance by a member of staff, to take us to the company bus office. When the clerk behind the desk handed over the bag, mother seemed to melt into a puddle of joy, her face lit up brighter than a full moon glowing on a clear night. An invisible weight lifted in the room, a consolation to know that those gifts were in our possession again.
Once we had trailed slowly back through the heaving traffic back to

the famous Victory Monument (where we had boarded the bus from) we walked beside the sky train track, and retreated for solace in an independent coffee shop. An iced banana mocha was a remedy.

We wandered towards the older parts of the city, and unexpectedly found a temple, where within it's quarters held a fair. It is a tradition to hold such at events sometimes, and any money that is collected from the stalls goes towards the temple itself, so it's a pleasing and positive charitable cause. Because of that admiring concept, (and because mother dared me) I bought some fried crickets to eat. Yes, you did read that correctly. There were stalls of all various objects that circled the temple; some beautiful, some curious, and some edible. A couple of them were dedicated to fried insects, as eating the weird and wonderful creatures was a regular

practice in Thailand. My eyes looked over each type, all dead, unmoving and embracing one another sickly within their containers. Some were bigger than others, and I wondered how one would even begin to eat one of the beetles, half the size of my hand, legs long and glazed shell shining. Do you start with a leg, and crunch your way into it from there? Who knew. I began to relish in my slight revolt for it all, and fascinated, I bought the crickets. I wasn't daring enough to go for the big beetle.
Mum looked from me to the bugs laying lifelessly in the plastic bag within my grip, her expression twisted. "Are you really going to eat those?"
I held up the bag and studied them, adrenaline kicking in. "Well, you dared me, and for a hundred baht you said, right? So yes, of course."
Mother swallowed, as if holding back a rising, unwanted nausea. "Jesus Amber. Yes, I give you my word..."
I had requested for the crickets to be glazed in soy sauce, to make the experience a little easier. We found a spare piece of wall just outside of the temple, to perch upon for the tasting test to take place. Mother had the video camera rolling, and performed a comical commentary as I popped one of the bugs in my mouth. I remember it being crunchy, yet I couldn't distinguish any particular part of it's body, and I swallowed at ease. What I could mainly taste was the soy!
"...Yeah, it's good!" I declared, and picked another couple more out to eat.
The camera peered in closer. "Amber, open up so we have proof," mum instructed.
Rolling my eyes, I did as told, then chewed on another. A local lady, little in height and older in age, then stopped in her tracks to watch our antic. She came up to me and pointed at the bag.
"Dingley!' she exclaimed, face breaking out into a smile, eyes almost frantic with glee, "Dingley!"
So that is what the crickets were called. We thanked her and she carried on, her tiny frame disappearing quickly within the ambling tourists around.
"So, I guess I owe you now right?" mum asked, still looking slightly sick in the face, as I carried on munching.
"Just buy a beer or dinner, that's cool," I replied, grinning, still with a mouth full of bug and hoping that some of it was stuck in my teeth, to make her even more revolted.
"Urgh," she grunted, and shuddered.
I carried on devouring my new bug buddies as we roamed, until I couldn't stomach anymore.

http://www.bangkok.com/attraction-temple/wat-saket.htm

http://www.thai-blogs.com/2005/10/26/fried-insects-at-the-temple-fair/

A man tried to scam us on the next part of our wander, whilst we were photographing one of the temples. All of the scammers act

the same; they will begin by appearing to be your friend, pursuing in a polite manner, and asking you questions about your stay in the city. Then they will inquire you, about whether or not you have tickets out of the country. Now, this should send red flags up anyway, because such information to a stranger should not be required, and would not be relevant. This particular man that questioned us, even said that he worked at a school across the road from the temple. A school that couldn't be seen. He spun out a string of lies, right in the heart of the temple grounds, because where else would tourists most likely be? You cannot trust anybody, and sadly that is the case for not just the scammers in the world. Humanity, I feel, is slowly becoming more oblivious to the world around them, chained to the invisible shackles of the system. Wake up, and be free, and act with kindness. For goodness sake, it isn't difficult...
On how long we actually walked for on that day, I wasn't sure. But it was a lot. We ended up trekking through the flower market within the China town, after a surprise parade that took place at the palace. Heaps of banquets, piled on top of one another, covering the whole surface of the stalls. Such, strong colour against the dull, slumming streets. Then, after some very spicy green curry in a local

restaurant, mouth on fire, we checked out Asiatique; one of Bangkok's biggest night markets. Full of clothes, food stalls, restaurants, and tourists. A major hub and key attraction, but it is worth a visit. If one is willing to be ripped off, then spend away. If not, eat locally like we did, and still share the same experience without having to depart with any cash at all.

10 MUST SEE temples-http://www.bangkok.com/magazine/10-temples.htm

http://www.bangkok.com/shopping-mall/asiatique.htm

Saturday 28th November 2015

The following day, we were curious to see the famous, seedy side to Bangkok, which is known world wide. The areas are named Soi

cowboy, Patpong and Nana, all accessible by Sky Train. We walked down these dirty streets of debauchery during the day, and already, an underground essence that reeked of an exuberant yet twisted pleasure, were lurking behind the closed doors of the bars. Sinful, erotic fantasy would certainly arise to the surface once the sun had vanished, the city to then keep it's secrets easier in the dark. They do say that the freaks come out at night. We as a society in Britain are so prudish when it comes to the subject of sex, and the majority of us are embarrassed to even speak about such a common, human act to one another. Which is a shame, because we shouldn't be so closed minded, and unlock our minds to a situation that can be so, incredibly spiritual, even if it all based on those expressive chemicals that rapidly buzz around within us. Bangkok is quite certainly, however, more than just an eye opener. Care to be shocked? You shall be.

http://www.bangkok.com/sport-parks---activities/lumpini-park.htm

http://www.bangkok.com/nightlife-go-go-bar/patpong.htm

In the evening, our minds culturally expanded, we paid a visit to the well established rock bar for a couple of drinks. Metal bands such as Lamb of God, Napalm Death and Dragonforce have all taken in this venue on their tours, and it was pretty awesome to be stood in a venue that I would never have thought to step foot in, as I had seen all three of those bands back in the UK. Hell,I even know Dragonforce, and have kicked it back with the guitarist often, drinking beer down the cold streets of London during the winter months and conducting stupid antics as we passed the frosty windows, icy puffs of our breath showing as we exhaled.

In the bar, we sang along to a band who covered the classic pop rock songs such An American Idiot and All The Small Things. I felt like I was living through my teen years once again. Thrown back to those school days, where I was nick named a dirty grunger. Back to those times, when hormones were flying due to pubity and our ignorance made everything so problematic. I used to whip out Kerrang! magazine in maths class, slap it down on the table and begin to read, believing that I was a cool kid. Man, all of that teen angst, yet I lol back at smile at the nostalgia. Anyway, we had a great time bopping away to the cover band, and time flew by. Before we knew it we were sprinting with all the strength that we could circulate in our rubbery legs, back to the sky train station as the clock had struck midnight, our elongated shadows staying ahead for motivation, under the deep velvet, violet clouds of the night. Gasping, we threw ourselves on the final train, just as it's door firmly shut. I collapsed on a chair. "Let's not do that again mum," I managed to say, breathing unsteadily. Mother nodded as she was trying to subside her own irregular heartbeat, and we rode the train in silence to redeem ourselves.

http://www.therockpub-bangkok.com/

Sunday 29th November 2015

Our last day in Bangkok consisted of exploring the extraordinary, multiple shopping malls. You can tell that we love them, huh? There were plenty of malls to see and shop in all along the sky train line, and as we had to use up our train passes, we took full advantage of it, riding countless times through the day. I remember that morning in particular, whilst I was gathering up some belongings, slowly preparing for departure the next day. There was still one of dough bread balls that mum had purchased in Penang, left in its box, hardening and lonely. Half blinded by the poor lighting, I didn’t see the cluster of ants that were swarming around the remaining food. I popped the insect ridden bread into my mouth and began chewing, without noticing the extra, unwanted topping. Oblivious, I began to to write out my Thailand departing visa card, until then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied the trail of ants crawling all over the table and along the back wall. The bread had long been swallowed and traveling into my digestive system, but after picking up the box again and peering into it to discover more of the creatures, I could feel the almost disintegrated food attempting to rise back up. Cooked crickets I was prepared for,but this was taking bug eating to a whole new level. The more I thought about it, the more my stomach churned, and I soon found myself gagging over the bowl of the shared bathroom toilet. Mum, who was in the shower, heard me next door. "Amber!? Are you okay?" She called out, her voice traveling over the walls of the communal bathroom. "Yep...!" I managed to spurt out, in between fast retches, "Just swallowed some ants, but I'll be okay!" The faucet of the shower switched off and I heard her shout. "WHAT?!"
It was a positive thing that I had eaten the rotten food, even if It did make me queasy. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have had any idea about the ants and may have returned to the room that evening to them again, only multiplied. I had also spotted a problem with my Cambodia Evisa; they had left a number out of my passport number on it. So I had to urgently email (I sent the email four times because when I want something done, I go overboard. Plus, as I have described, Asia move at a leisurely pace!) and they responded, surprisingly straight away with it fixed up. What an eventful morning.
Fatigue began to kick in early afternoon, after enthusiastically wandering around a couple of the gigantic malls, so we stopped for some grub and beers down a street that was off of Soi Cowboy. The first bar that we sat in felt like we were back at home, a typical tourist spot. A sports bar and English characters, need I say more? The second place was the complete opposite. It was a local restaurant, with it's dirty walls, small plastic seats, and a young waiter who couldnt' speak a word of English and couldn't seem to smile. But, I ate one of the best meals so far on the trip, a generous serving of Pad Thai for an equivalent price of pennies. Very cheap and very cheerful. Well, the waiter wasn't.

http://www.bangkok.com/top10-shopping-malls.htm

Full and recovered, we took in the remainder of the malls and photographed them as night drew upon us. The lights surrounding the buildings dazzled us, and we snapped away passionately, captivated by the rows of vibrant colour, a cosmic pattern of electric rainbows displayed like paint being splashed on an empty canvas. Such a contrast against the shadowy, sunless evenfall.

http://www.theclubhousebangkok.com/

http://www.bangkok.com/nightlife-go-go-bar/soi-cowboy.htm