The market was wonderful. Clothes, silks, flowers, food,
seafish, fruit, vegetables, statues, gramaphones, antique bronze fans,
endless displays of silver jewelry, chickens, singers, dancers… I
shopped a little (despite myself - I’ve already bought everything that
I needed to get and spent a week’s budget in two days), and wandered
around until I hit complete sensory overload.

A few wrong turns and several friendly Israeli tourists in
possession of maps later, I made it out of the market and to Moh Chit
bus station. Finally. I couldn’t help but think that I should have just
walked in the first place or chanced the public buses (which I hadn’t
thought myself quite ready to handle). I took the Skytrain to Siam
Square and, already tired and finding nothing but an oversized shopping
mall, decided to head straight for the canal.

Three hours later, I was still walking. I got close. I must have
gotten close. I probably walked in circles around it. I stopped and
asked for directions - not that I needed to, because every time I’d
start to move over to the side and pull my guidebook out of my bag,
someone would stop and ask where I was headed before I’d even had a
chance to open it. The Saen Saep Pier was near the Asia Hotel. The Asia
Hotel was near the Ratchathewi bus stop. The Ratchathewi bus stop was
near the pier. Just a ways on, and then left. A bit back and right. And
on it went. At least they were trying to be helpful. Finally, someone
said something about no river taxis on Sundays because of something
about the king (possibly a former king?) and I decided it was time to
get a taxi back to Khao San.

If nothing else, I got my exercise in today. Before leaving on the
ever-so-exciting tuk tuk adventure, I’d spent the morning wander Khao
San and Banglamphu in concentric circles. I did the same again this
evening, in slightly wider concentric circles. If nothing else, at
least Khao San is hard to lose. During the daylight you can hear the
ever-present cat-wailing and after dark the entire neighborhood not
only glows, but literally throbs from all the bass. Off-Khao San is
actually rather nice - in a dirty-but-interesting sort of a way. (Breakfast at my new favorite restaurant, Ranee’s.) Off-off Khao San is just dirty.

Thai is harder to pick up than I’d expected. Thanks to the cleaning
girl on my floor, who decided for some reason to make friends with me,
I’ve at least got “Hello” down. Most of the time. I’m doing pretty well
with “yes” but “no” only seems to work half the time. (Although, in
that case, I may be being deliberately misunderstood). I’ve given up on
the phrasebook; I can’t manage to pronounce anything with enough
accuracy to be understood. Even taking out the book and pointing
doesn’t seem to help much. It’s the tonal nature, I think, that’s
stumping me. I’ll think I’ve got it, I get someone to say it, I repeat
it ten times - and when I open my mouth to use the phrase, all I get is
blank stares. Attempting anything beyond hello is just
counter-productive; I can’t wait to get to Chiang Mai and take a class.

Haylee (the exchange of names is our biggest achievement yet; her
English is as bare as my Thai) helped me find a bucket so I could wash
my clothes and showed me the drying line on the roof. I’m rather inept
at hand-washing clothes - fragiles are one thing, but I doubt I got the
blue jeans even remotely clean. Hand-washing may need to tide me over
between paid-laundry, rather than replace it, but it will still help
save money.

I’m taking an “overnight” (it arrives at 1am) bus to Chiang Mai on
the eighth. Tomorrow I want to explore the major temples in the city
and, hopefully, make it out to the floating market on Tuesday morning
before catching the bus. I’m severely jet-lagged (Khao San’s nocturnal
schedule isn’t helping matters), so we’ll see how it goes.