Bangkok is an assault on the senses. Mad Max tuk-tuks careen wildly through traffic while the Skytrain glides effortlessly above. Sleep-deprived backpackers rub elbows with cellphone-toting monks and neighborhood masseuses.
Do you remember the scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy is knocked unconscious in a black and white Kansas, and wakes up in a vivid, Technicolor Oz?
As Noel Coward said, only “mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.” I’m neither, which is why I was safely ensconced on our deep, shady guesthouse balcony – bare feet propped up, cool Beer Lao in hand.
It was six in the morning and I sat on the balcony of our simple guesthouse, relishing the slight chill in the air and smooth teak floors under my bare feet. I was watching and listening as the day came to life. I wanted to soak it all in.
“You’ve visited tons of places, so what’s your favorite place in the world?” We get this question a lot, and it’s a tough one to answer.