I awoke on the outskirts of Bangkok. The stewardess was back, gruffly reconfiguring our tiny quarters into seats. I cupped my hands against the window to block the fluorescent lights and watched the city slowly wake up, its squalid habitations and their inhabitants made more mysterious by the blue dawn.
We emerged in the middle of Bangkok with a long list of things to accomplish, first being breakfast. Mercifully, it wasn’t a long walk to —— where we procured an English Breakfast and internet. No taxis this time: we were doing Bangkok like the locals and mapped our route to Bangkok Self Storage via elevated tram. Okay, tram and tuk-tuk. I was not going to walk 3 km in the heat.
Bags procured, the oppressive heat became even more oppressive and it was a long, bitter slog to catch the airport-bound express. With our flight to Stockholm first thing in the morning, I booked a hostel near Suvarnabhumi for the night. There, we did laundry and re-packed our bags, setting aside over five pounds to mail home when we arrived in Europe.
Our gracious hostess thoughtfully organized our breakfast for dinner, since we would leave to early to eat it in the morning. After one last Leo beer, we fell asleep to the sound of rain pounding on the roof of our little attic. It was the first we’ve heard in over a month and, boy, did it sound good.