I get to Bangkok and back

Michael invited me to go out in Bangkok with him and his girlfriend. He gave me all the instructions I need, exactly which ferry to get (the one with the orange flags, because that's the fast ferry) and where to get off. And then I got Smile to write down everything in Thai, “is this the ferry to Wang Lang?”, “how do I get to Lok Pranok road?”, so if I got lost and confused I could just show someone my notebook. He wrote down directions to the house too, for the return journey. Grandma was very worried about the thought of me getting a taxi home in the middle of the night. I assured her and Smile that I would be just fine, but he gave me four phone numbers in case of emergency (his mobile, his home number, and Pee Dar's mobile and home numbers!).

So I got the songtau into town, walked down to the pier, and tried to find a boat with orange flags. No orange flags. When I asked about Wang Lang I was told “boat no go to Wang Lang now. Taxi.” Oh right. So I get a taxi. Arrive safely. Michael had booked us a table at a club called Q Bar, so we (Michael, his girlfriend, their Thai friend, and me) head there. It's supposed to be good. But it turns out to be where fat, old or ugly western men go to pick up Thai women. It was disturbing. There was this big fat ugly bloke practically getting a lapdance right next to me. And two old grey haired men with their arms draped over these Thai girls. Not good. But no matter. We danced. It was fun.

And then all that remained was to get home again. Taxi! The fourth taxi we tried agreed to put on the meter (you have to be careful about that – especially the Bangkok taxi drivers (they're a little more chilled in Nonthaburi) – they see a farang and immediately try and rip you off). I got Michael's Thai friend to give the instructions from the notebook to the taxi driver. And half an hour later I'm home. I've been up for 22 hours. I'm exhausted. I fall into bed. Thunk. Ouch.