Chitti-chitti Bangkok

I had arranged to meet my local contact on the day I was to land in Bangkok. When he came to pick me up at SuvarnabhumiAirport, I realized that he was of Indian origin. Fifteen minutes into the conversation, I gathered to both our astonishment that we were from the same neighbourhood back in Mumbai!

Bangkok is a city where Mumbaikars will easily feel at home. The vibe (read chaos), its people, its public transport, its roads – everything reflects the life as we know it back home.

It’s also a very easy city to live in. I met (and saw) so many Indians living there and running successful businesses, most of which are into precious and semi precious stones since Bangkok has a huge market for this.

As a tourist, i loved it. Bangkok was recently rated as the number one destination for international visitor arrivals this year according to the MasterCardGlobal Destination Cities Index, managing to surpass even London by a slim margin! This makes Bangkok the first Asian city to figure in the top rank since the Index was launched in 2010.

And why not. I found it to be a pretty safe city (unless of course you are not too smart and venture out alone to places you’re not supposed to after dark). Any doubt I had regarding this was removed by one particular incident that occurred on my second night there.

I stayed at a pretty decent and basic hotel called Princeton Park Suites which is close to the city centre. There’s also a Carrefour close by! And since I was travelling alone, I took advantage of their oh-so-convenient motorcycle taxis instead of taking a tuk-tuk. They’re fast, cheap and absolutely thrilling! There’s no meter of course so fares are to be pre-fixed.  

I was out for dinner with some friends not too far from my hotel at this Indian dhaba-style restaurant that had ghazal nights every Friday. Unfortunately, we were there on a Friday too. Now, I’m not a big fan of Indian food when travelling abroad. But my friends insisted. And come to think of it, there is a certain kind of perverseness to go to an Indian restaurant abroad.

So when at midnight we decided to call it a night, I decided to take one of the bike taxis back to the hotel. I was told that it’d be safe what with the hotel being only 15 minutes away at that time. And so I went.

When I told my ‘biker’ my destination (I even showed him my hotel business card) he nodded aggressively, which if translated would mean ‘I know, I know’. So I hopped on and waved my friends goodbye. Soon I realized that we were on a highway that had a line of brightly lit Go-Go bars.

I gulped and asked the rider again if he knew where he was going, and he nodded again. I had not realized the extent of the language barrier that I was about to face that night. Apparently, English – or more precisely English as is spoken by Indians – is not understood that well in Bangkok.

Twenty minutes later and still on the highway, I began to wonder whether he would need to kill me before taking all my money, my card and my passport that was in my sack. Still praying like the dickens, I forced him to stop whenever we were lucky to spot a smattering of people and ask for directions. Apparently, Princeton Park Suites isn't that well-known among the locals!

After 35 minutes, it looked like we had gotten off the highway and finally nearing the city centre and my hotel. And five minutes later I was getting off the bike outside my hotel.

A motorcycle taxi

To my rider’s credit, he didn’t ask me for more than what was decided even though we had taken a major detour. He sat there smiling an apologetic smile and all I could do was pretend that I hadn’t minded the ride too much. So I paid 20 baht over and above the 50 that we had agreed upon and climbed up the stairs to my hotel. 

Note to self: Don't panic until it's time to panic.