I made it onto this flight at the 10-minutes-to-takeoff point by bribing the ticket agent with a twenty and then paying an extra $125 to fly Business-class. Well, what the hell, I figured, I've always been curious about Business Class. Well here I am, and I now know it means slightly better seats and greatly improved food. But at least I am out of the limbo of Kathmandu. Now I have just over a week in Bangkok to look forward to. As a postscript to my trip to Nepal the sad news came over the wire that a German/Swiss expedition of 14 people had died in an avalanche attempting one of the peaks of the Himalaya. I cannot help but feel incredibly sad about this. They were reported missing while I was still in Kathmandu, and it was strange to see that every traveler, myself included, hoped with their hearts for the safe return of the mountaineers. It sounds cold-hearted, but think about it- when you hear about deaths in remote places on the news, you don't feel good about it, but at the same time you don't feel a great sadness because pragmatically your life is unaffected. In Kathmandu, however, all the travelers that I met seemed to share the same concern - because this had happened to a group of people around our ages who were somewhere in the mountains less than an hour's flight to the north. And then the news this morning.

I feel it important to jot down some first impressions of Bangkok while they are fresh in my head. I'll be comparing it to Kathmandu, which I had grown very used to.

First of all, the size comparison is bewildering. Kathmandu is a village compared to Bangkok. It is a 30-minute drive in just from the airport, along a modern highway with billboards advertising Toshiba and Canon (yes, there's a lot of Japanese influence here) and everything's so *clean* compared to Kathmandu. I have started to miss the ever-present dust that one experienced in Nepal. I guess it just makes it hit home that Nepal is one of the poorest countries in Asia. Bangkok is metropolitan, an attribute no-one will ever bestow upon Kathmandu.

The other thing that one notices in comparison is the relative decadence of Bangkok. Admittedly it's hot as hell here (on cool nights it sometimes dips into the upper 70s) but the difference in dress styles both native and foriegn is amazing. In Kathmandu, if you saw leg it was scandalous - here it's almost expected. Men wander around shirtless. Women wander around braless. It's like I'm back in Greece! (Except for the clean bit of course - the Greeks and Nepalis shared a belief in the "if you ignore the trash it will go away" school of thought).

I'll continue my tirade if you don't mind. By the way, I have changed locales to somewhere almost three times as expensive as last night, and I've settled in. What justifies the expense is a decent room, a decent bed, and an attached private bath. Of course it is still without A/C and tonight promises to be another restless battle to expose as much of myself as possible to the airflow from the ceiling fan. But hey, who can complain at $7/night?

Anyway, I have a few more comparisons to make. One thing of interest is the difference in attitudes between travelers in the two cities. I am staying in the "westerners budget accommodation area" of Bangkok, just as I did in Kathmandu, so I can say I have bumped into a great number of fellow travelers in both cities. My impression is that, while the travelers in Thamel were generally outgoing, most of them were here to go Trekking in Nepal and were on their Quest for Spiritual Peace, and when they went home they would be the Adventurous Traveler of the neighborhood. Therefore there was a kind of tension in Thamel because everyone was doing the same thing - Yeah, you're going Trekking? Big deal, you and 50,000 other people. So many of the westerners in Nepal were very serious because this was the part of their trip where they were supposed to be Socially Conscious. That attitude (or my perception of that attitude) put me off a bit. On the other hand we have the Bangkok traveler who is staying on Khao San Rd. for $4/night and whose sole purpose in being here is to maybe see a few temples, hit some beaches and have a few beers every night. No pretensions there. Though at first glance the travelers on this strip may appear less outgoing, I wonder if that's just me having withdrawn a bit after so much time alone in Kathmandu.

Note: Since I have returned from my trip, during some Net surfing I found this hilarious comment on the Lonely Planet Web Server:

Bangkok's Khao San Road seems to attract, or rather to produce, a particular sort of traveller. The newcomer arrives ashen-skinned, sporting jeans, t-shirt and comfortable shoes. Within a couple of days, the Khao San ambience has had a pronounced sartorial effect. The traveller now wears a pair of baggy tie-dyed Banglamphu pants, a waist-coat of many zany colours, a bandanna or ethnic pill-box hat and a pair of flip-flops. The picture is completed with an outdated Lonely Planet guide and an Anthony Burgess novel. This is Khao San Man. The emphasis seems to be on ethnicity; the look is so authentic that the locals don't ever dress this way - they wear the jeans and t-shirts. Khao San Man espouses his own brand of flip-flop philosophy, an inarticulate semi-anti-authoritarian attitude. Place-name-dropping is rife (''I just came back from 'Nam, man") and travel tips are cliched (''Phi Phi really is ruined, man", and ''Those full-moon parties onPha-Ngan are wild").

These people are instant experts who, while in Bangkok, rarely step outside Khao San Road after their first day's temple-trekking.

And then we have Khao San Rd. itself, the merchant's alley of fakery: fake Rolexes, fake Levi's, fake Armani suits, fake Polo shirts, fake Student ID Cards, fake Press Cards, you name it they got it, and they have some stuff you can't name, too, if you want that. Khao San Rd. is full of people selling stuff you didn't know you needed to have, and if you don't ask where it came from, all the better. Hell, it's not just this street - I hit Pantip Plaza today, which aside from the distraction of a few restaurants is basically a five-story mall completely dedicated to computer stores of various flavors. I had of course arrived with a mission: to pick up a copy of Doom II. And that's what I got when I asked at the counter of the software store I had been browsing through: five regular floppies with "doom 2" scrawled haphazardly across the labels. I of course refused to only pay $6 for the game and stalked out of the store with a fixed grimace. Next I enjoyed a fine seafood dinner, and then perused a music store and emerged with Kenny G's greatest hits. Then I bit my tongue because it was wedged in my cheek. I'm not exaggerating when I say there must have been over a hundred different computer shops in this mall - the phrase "kid in a candy shop" comes to mind without much prodding. It's no wonder I managed to spend almost 3 hours there.

Well I have a week until (supposedly) I take off for Jakarta and points beyond. Hope Bangkok doesn't get too stale. I also have a date with American Express as funds have seriously begun to dry up - after I pay for the room tomorrow I shall have $5 for the day. I tried going today, but when I got to their office in Siam center at 12:30 I found out that they had closed at noon (today is Saturday) and would not reopen until Monday. D'oh! If only I knew which ATMs accepted Amex I would be cruising. How the hell have I spent so much money in the past few days? I think there's something about this place that just sucks money out of your pocket. I'll have to watch myself in the next week.

By the way, I tried to call home, got an answering machine (almost unheard-of in our house) which indicated that possibly the family was still in Columbia spending the weekend with Ann after the traditional Turkey Day Feast. But no, there was no answer at the McAden Residence, so I think the Robinsons are either at the Lake with Milton and Catherine or in Manhattan for the quarterly ACLU meeting. I am anxious to find out which. Also called Tamara and woke her up (Bangkok is exactly 12 hours ahead of EST so I rang at 8AM their time) and had a disjointed 12-minute conversation with her - to be continued, she was hardly with it. But I did learn that my expensive Internet message from Kathmandu got through to Robert and that he was trying to send it out to all the people on the list, Tamara included. Apparently it got through to Eric, no word on the parents though. Add another reason to the list that I would like to get in touch with them.

Wow, I just realized that it's near the end of November. Here below the 15th parallel, where it is in the high 90s during the day and at night it dips all the way down into the high 70s. Contrast that with Kathmandu, which was having weather about like home: low 70s during the day, low 40s at night. Then again I think this is the farthest south I've ever been - no wonder I'm not getting the usual Christmas vibes that this time of year normally brings. Hell, it's hot.

Well I pulled off one of those jobs today which succeeded in making me feel like a total schmuck. Out of boredom I wandered around the various money exchange places asking if anyone knew if there was an ATM which took American Express. Finally one of them acknowledged that there was a machine at the New World department store which accepted Amex down the road. I dashed off in that direction. After a bit of walking I found the department store and the ATM in front of it. I pulled out my Amex card and showed it to the guard, asked if the machine took it. He nodded his head with all due enthusiasm, and I hesitantly inserted my card. It asked for my PIN, asked me what I wanted to do, I said withdraw, it said how much, I said "1000 baht" ($40), and it replied with

PLEASE INSERT CARD

But I really feel like a schmuck for seeing that other ATM when my card was sitting impotently in another machine, waiting for me to rescue it. I don't know if I'm better off than before - now I know where I can get money with the card, but I have managed to get rid of the card. Oh well, I suppose fate intended for me to wait until Monday one way or another. Until then I have about $8.50 to live on (that's after selling my Nepal guide). I should be able to manage, however it will be interesting to try and see how I am going to tell the proprietor of this guesthouse not to kick me out if I am not paid up by exactly noon.

ADDENDUM AS OF 3PM - I actually took the time out to peruse the various Exchange Bureaus on Khao San Rd. to see if any of them represented the ATM which ate my card. After a few redirections I ended up at the little booth for the Thai Farmer's Bank. They were very helpful about the situation. I still have to wait until tomorrow, but at least I know now where to go at 8:30AM. They even gave me a map and let me know that I was to go to the 2nd floor of that branch. My only problem now lies in remembering thhat he probably actually means the third floor by my reckoning :). If that is the biggest problem I face tomorrow I shall be lucky.

I hope seriously for my sake that I resolve this problem, for some reason it has mentally blocked me from exploring this city fully. Perhaps I have a value judgment telling me I should not be "vacationing" with no money. Perhaps it is time to reevaluate this system of thought. I still feel the block, though. It may be unhealthy, but usually immediately upon receipt of funds after a period of financial anxiety I am immensely relieved and the day is usually marked as being one of heavy exploration (and more often than not a nice meal to mark the occasion). Maybe it's the symbolic freedom of not having to worry whether or not I will be able to eat or sleep in a room thr next day. Maybe that isn't so unhealthy.

Tried calling home as of 7PM our time (7AM home time) and got the answering machine again. Dammit. By virtue of the 12-hour lag to the East Coast I can wake up early Monday (which is in the works because of the bank anyway), say by 8AM, call home at 8:30AM and have it be 8:30PM Sunday night at home. Hopefully they'll be around by then. I am anxious to call, as it has been some time since I have spoken to them and the last time I spoke with Patricia she mentioned in passing, "I'm sure your mother would love to hear from you." It's pretty sad when you get a guilt trip from your travel agent. Ah well.

I am waiting now for 9PM to roll around, so I can head down to the Nat Guest House to catch the free showing of "The Fugitive". Well, 'free' is a bit misleading - if you want to sit down at a table to watch the film you're going to have to order something or risk the wrath of the proprietors. It's only common courtesy, after all. I have slightly over $2 to my name right now so I think I will be cheaping out tonight - maybe a couple of Cokes and that's it. And I mean the $.40 bottle Cokes, not the $.60 can Cokes :)

I look forward to having money again so that I can entertain the notion of buying a new book. Well, I have a book, technically, in "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance", but I cannot rely upon this as a main book or a form of entertainment - this is a heavy book which I admit I must digest in chunks. I have been working on it ever since the first week of Kathmandu, and progress is slow. When I say I have to buy a book that means a "time fodder" book of not much philosophical weight such as a Jeffrey Archer or Tom Clancy novel, a "cheap thrills" work that serves its purpose as a thriller. I have been devouring these types along the whole length of the journey. There is something strangely fitting about reading international intrigue books on a world trip. I must admit to several thoughts of, "I've been there, I know which bridge he's tallking about."

Well good lord! I have certainly produced a great volume of journals in three days. Perhaps this is as a result of having had to rely on the Zen book as my mainstay for the past few days - it is written as nonfiction in a highly detailed journal fashion bordering on the mundane. Sound familiar?

The American Express Affair turns out not to be so simple. After a fairly late night with some fellow travelers (I got back to the Guesthouse at 3AM) I failed to wake by 8:30. I made it down to the Post Office by 10AM, where I made contact with the Robinsons and dtermined that they had spent the Thanksgiving holiday visitng every known relative on the planet. I am happy and sad that I missed this :).

Anyway, I made it down to the regional office of the Thai Farmer's Bank by about 10:30, at which point it was revealed to me that it would take three to five days for the head office to come down and crack open the machine to get my card out. As I currently have about $1 to my name, you can imagine my disappointment and anger at the bureaucracy of the bank. I was polite, however - at least until I got out the front door, where I started cursing like a sailor.

Defeated, I returned to the Classic Place Guest House, made sure I still had a bed for the night, then started asking around for American Express's number. Shortly I was on the phone to them and had explained the situation. Apparently a duplicate card is to be delivered to the Classic Place tomorrow at around 1PM. I await its arrival with much anticipation. The woman claimed it would be identical in all respects to the old card, including still having the PIN number to use it in ATMs, and rest assured I shall be testing this property with all due haste once the card arrives, though it will be with some trepidation that I insert my card into the slot of the new machine. At least I will have the comfort of a giant Amex sign above the ATM, which I can break if my card is swallowed again.

In the meantime securing funds for the day is a problem. Jason, the Australian gent who offered me a loaner last night, was nowhere to be seen around his guesthouse, so that option was out. It is nearing lunchtime, and I am ravenously hungry, and I am seriously considering selling off my Lonely Planet Guide to Indonesia, which I will have to buy back at the end of the week. But by then I might have my Amex card back so, as they say, No Worries. With luck I should be able to get $8 or $10 for the book. If that pans out then the living will be easy for the rest of the day. But my promise to get piss drunk with everyone tonight may have to be postponed another day, as yet again I will not have the funds for such extravagances.

Well, I did it. The Indonesia Lonely Planet fetched a handy $9 on the market. I made use of some of the newly acquired riches to have a decent lunch at the Khao San Center, where me and and Aussie were almost on the floor, howling in derisive laughter at the pathetic Thai versions of some popular Rolling Stones and CCR tunes. Things just Weren't Quite Right. Oh andd the Nat Guest House (where The Fugitive aired last night and where I met up with Jason & Co.) has taken a a considerable value slump in the quality of movies it is to be airing today. Among them are Hard Target, Universal Soldier, Home Alone, and Hear No Evil, See No Evil. I would rather be hung by my testicles off the side of the Eiffel Tower.

By the way, as of this sentence the byte-size of my journals for four days in Thailand has surpassed the journals for three weeks in Nepal. I'm not sure, but I think that confirms that I was in some sort of Limbo state in Kathmandu, and now that I have passed out of this state my mind is rejoicing in actually being active again.

Well last night I ended up at the Nat Guest House after all, as that's where Jason & Co. were hanging out, watching Hear No Evil, See No Evil. Not a bad movie after all, from the bits I caught. But when it stopped and they put in Hard Target, we decided to move on to the Hello Bar down the road, wherein several consecutive bottles of local rum were purchased (not on my conscience; I had no funds for such extravagances) and we took care of them rather more quickly than was wise - towards the end we were sculling each glass as it was poured. To use my catchphrase: BAD IDEA. My memory of the night fades as the sculling progresses, so the tale I am about to tell has been related to me by my erstwhile companions. Apparently after about 15 minutes the rum stood up, told me to piss off, then hit me with a surprise right hook to the jaw. At this point I lost all control of myself, babbling in fluent Swahili and shaking the table up and down violently, before smashing my glass to the floor, and soon afterward following it down. Apparently they then decided that it was high time that I get home, but I was having none of it. So it was that I was escorted a block back to the Classic Place - and I don't mean they walked me home, I was carried back in the manner of a dying soldier; Ian had one leg, Anna the other, with Michael on the one arm and Jason opposite. They embellished further with the note that they had managed to bang my head on the sidewalk several times to try and shut me up because I was crying out like a Neanderthal. When they carried me through the lobby of the Classic Place, the boy on graveyard shift asked if I was on drugs. "No, mate, 'e's pissed!" was Jason's reply. They got me to my room (they cursed me relentlessly as my room is the last down the hall of the top floor and they had to carry me up four flights of stairs) and into my bed. Of course, I was still fully dressed. They came back to check on me about an hour later and brought some bottled water. At this point the rum and my dinner of fried rice had reemerged for an encore appearance. Mind you, I am still relating this in the third person; I have no recollection of any of this.

Waking up this morning was a considerable displeasure as I had to clean up after myself. I was awake and functional by 7:30, which was good because Jason and Michael came knocking at my door at around 8. They had never gone to bed and were at the very moment working on a large beer. They told me what an ass I had made out off myself last night, and I was laughing and cursing at the same time. They managed to break my knife and spill beer all over the wall, so I kicked them out in order that I might have a shower and go grab some breakfast. During and after breakfast I felt a bit dodgy, but was never close to violent illness.

I helped Jason move into the Nat Guest House, into the same room with Thomas and Michael. They were pretty stagnant and still drinking, which I found rather apalling as it was 10:30 in the morning and they still hadn't had any sleep. I left, as I felt that conversationally they weren't going to be up to much. I assume they fell asleep, and I felt pity for them as I'm sure waking up would be none too pleasant for them as well. 11:30AM, I'm in my room typing, and I get a knock on the door and a loud Thai woman's voice screeches, "You come downstairs now." I oblige, and waiting for me at the desk is Hay-el Jeezus a sealed envelope containing my new American Express card. They're early, but I don't mind, no sirree! I'm right out the door to make out a counter check at the Thai Farmer's Bank (nice irony that the bank whose machine ate my old card is now giving me money off the new one) and then I buy some tinidazole for Thomas who is having a bit of diarhea and fever, and a 1-liter bottle of J&B (rather expensive I might add) for Jason and Michael, to repay them for paying my 320 baht ($13) bar tab, in addition to the considerable service of carting me home. I sent this up with Thomas at the Nat, as the other two were asleep.

Actually I think they are still asleep right now (9:30 PM) as I haven't seen them on Khao San Rd. all night. Maybe it's a message from God that tonight I should take a break. Who knows?

Oh, by the way, I bought a book today. Yep, you guessed it - Jeffrey Archer :).

I'll have to get out and do something culturally enriching tomorrow. It's just so darn hot you never feel like going particularly far.