Bangkok is very much like Vegas. But on steroids. A shitty brand of steroids you could only find at a shady gym in a city like Bangkok.
We left our brothel/hotel downtown to find a little more friendly accommodations for the second (and last) night I will ever spend in this godforsaken hell of an urban disaster.
We try to go to Koh Sahn (road) where most of the tourists concentrate. We quickly find out, the cab will only take us as far as a Royal Thai Army stand and drops us off with no explanation. Ummmm, shit. So we are standing on the side of the road by the Army with no ride and our giant bags like the biggest farangs around.
He says to us in perfect English, "ok guys we will take you by the protests, but you must keep going straight to Koh Sahn."
The lizard/journalist part of my brain kicks in. I lie. "I work for the Gazette, I need to take pictures."
Journalist? |
He looks me up and down and must have decided I was wiry and stupid enough to be a journalist. "Ask your driver," he said. Ok, I guess that is that, jump on the back of a bike and away we go.
As we got closer to the madness the drumming slowly crept ever louder. Boom... boom... boom... BOOM... BOOM... BOOM! My heart started to synchronize and I had a death grip on the holy shit handles of the bike.
Finally we drive up to the main protest area, police everywhere, flags the size of your house being waved, tear gas, gunshots and smoke. This is my second day in the country. I am quite close to soiling myself and I completely forget to even ask to get off the bike. Shock and awe does not even begin to describe how I felt. I took pictures of other peoples pictures because I value my eyes and life.
I stumbled into bed and planned my escape at first sight of the sun.
Police efforts to quell the riots proved unsuccessful. Four people died that day.
Peace out Bangkok,
Daniel Double-u
No comments:
Post a Comment