Picture This...

Sunday, July 5

Arrived in Bangkok by bus about 10.30 this morning. Having already been scammed by a taxi driver once, I was wary when I got off and was instantly swarmed by a group of orange-jacketed drivers: "Where you go, Ma-Dammmmm! My sister run guest house, very nice, cheap-cheap!"

I ignored them and dug out the card for Swani Guest House, passed on to me by a fellow traveler at the last place I stayed. {It's about double what I've been paying, but worth it.}
I held up the card and showed it to one confident man who approached. "Tuk-tuk? Tao-roi", I asked. He examined the card, then handed it back to me.

"300 baht."
I took my card back and pocketed it, then hoisted my pack. "Sorry, that's too much, " I told him.
"Ok, ok, for you special price first customer, I drive you 250.
"I don't have that much," I said, and kept walking. He conferred with two or three still clustered, then came back.
"How much you pay," he asked.

I showed him my wallet with its lonely 100bt bill and change. "This is it, this is all I have," I told him. He recoiled, and looked at me in disbelief. "Ok, two hundred," he offered.

I took the bill and change out and held it in my hand. "This. Is. All baht. Mai baht."

He went back to his cronies and conferred again. A heated debate broke out, and I began to suspect maybe I really was asking too much for too little. Finally he jogged back to me holding a young man by the arm and rattled off something, of which all I heard was, "take you okay."

The younger man examined my card closely, then shrugged. He motioned for me to stay put, then jogged off. He appeared a few minutes later as the jackets were buzzing about in a cloud once again, this time wearing a helmet and carrying another... and astride a pink and silver Vespa-type scooter. He smiled and waved for me to hop on, the smile fading a bit as he took in my small backpack, my jumbo sized carrying bag, and the hiker pack strapped to my back that is nearly as big as I am.

For a split second, reason and common sense attempted to put in an appearance, but were squashed by sheer impulse and I climbed aboard -

- and nearly fell over the other side as my pack shifted. With the help of a kindly and slightly amused transit official I got the straps tightened to prevent any further sliding, and climbed back on. My two smaller bags were wedged between his feet on the flat, shelf-like footrest behind the back wheel. A nod of his head, a cloud of blue smoke, and we were off on the moped I called "Flame."
[I would like to add here that he and the other drivers had all read my card, so I assumed that him showing up on a scooter meant this would be a fairly short trip. NOT!!!]

I felt reasonably comfortable, since I have spent a month riding around ThaiMeuang on the backs of all kinds of scooters, on all kinds of terrain, with all kinds of drivers. I have not,however, spent any time at all doing this in TRAFFIC! Whole new type of terror to experience.

Thais are very friendly and outgoing, but touching in public even among longterm couples is not encouraged, so in that way it is a very Hands-Off society. I have learned to be a passenger without touching the driver at all, basically by doing the butt clench where you hope to hell your glutes grab the seat and cling for dear life. Maybe I can't crack a walnut with my behind, but I can hang on through sharp turns with the best of them.

About thirty seconds into it I lost any sense of decorum and did everything but wrap around my driver like a snake, trying my damndest not to fall off every time we cut someone off to make a right across four lanes of left-turning drivers, or into oncoming traffic to pass someone slower. The ten-ton pack felt like it wanted to leap off and take me with it at every corner, speed bump, and cigarette butt we went over.

I wish I had a picture of me on the back of a scooter, pack towering above me, scared to death and loving it.