Travelbug

In the sweltering summer of 2005 I visited Asia for the first time; I spent four days in Bangkok, changing my perspective forever. I spent the first couple of days in the city, wondering the bustling markets and clinging on to tuktuks as they rattled me between the ancient Thai Buddhist temples – visiting these was the smallest, but most calm, I’d ever felt; I was overwhelmed by the copious amounts of dazzling gold, and the sheer size of the monuments. Seeing these temples as a contrast to the bustling, pungent city life of Bangkok in this way was brilliant for absorbing Bangkok’s atmosphere, but after being hurtled round in a tuktuk, with four of us jammed in the back of this slightly oversized motorized shopping trolley, (brilliantly cheap though, compared to taxis at home!) it was somewhat a relief to change to a slightly more sedate mode of travel.

Gliding along the tributaries of the Chao Phraya river takes you past juxtaposed extremes: huge, flashy, luxurious hotels crammed full of the world’s elite, emerald green, vibrant rainforest and tiny disheveled hovels, on the verge of collapse into the immense waters. These dilapidated wooden houses have the appearance of great poverty, and to the western mind, provoke feelings of concern over the living standards of their inhabitants. However, on a closer look, this view changed hugely. Peering through a glass-less window, there were 3 giggling children perched in front of a massive flat screen TV, watching Dora the Explorer. In a moment, my perspective flipped completely, and I realized how naïve I’d been to pity these happy, laughing people; travel teaches you that one doesn’t need your lifestyle to have your quality of life.

Drifting on, we come to a Floating Market, one of the largest in Bangkok, with tiny, lithe bodies, leaping from boat to boat with all sorts of exotic treasures – key rings, trinkets, souvenirs of all kinds, sold with the widest grin one could imagine. As our boat passed those selling food, the irresistible smell of Thai green curry fills my nostrils, the tropical, gleaming fruit and vegetables seemed to dance in the sunlight and the powerful incense that burnt all around made the whole experience ever more surreal and foreign. There, I fell in love with travelling; the exciting, exotic cultures of the world drew me to want to know more. Leaving the market with a dozen ‘Thailand’ bookmarks, and an excellent fan-come-hat, I knew that I’d caught the travel bug.