Skyscrapers, Markets, Ice Cubes, Tourism, and Waterfalls... Thailand's Excesses

When someone suggested I go to India nearly 20 years ago, I replied: "It’s really the last country I’d ever want to visit!" But after they kept showing me the beautiful side from every angle, I caved! I fell head over heels in love—even at the risk of my life. Turandot. Ring any bells?

It was the same with Thailand. - I’ll never set foot in Thailand! I had so many preconceptions... I imagined it as too clean, some kind of sanitized tourism, as I used to say. Those stunning beaches with turquoise waters seemed boring to me. I’d already experienced *my* beaches—secret ones—in Guadeloupe. Because for me, back then, that’s what Thailand was: just beaches. And then there was that stupid rivalry between the pro-India and pro-Thailand crowds. I heard so many arguments from the latter that I didn’t appreciate, justifying their enthusiasm! I couldn’t stand their criticisms of India, which had completely captivated me. I felt like a traitorous lover if I went to Thailand. And then, shame on me, I worried about what people would say. Me, who had adopted my grandmother’s "philosophy"—a very old Spanish woman from the Balearic Islands, a bit rough around the edges: "Whoever talks behind my back is talking to my ass." (She didn’t actually say *ass*.) What would people think: my family, especially my kids, my friends, my neighbors. An old man traveling alone to Thailand... You can guess why.

And it’s funny because recently, a friend from VF—*a real friend*, I’d say—barely 40 years old (I’ve made some truly great friends in real life after meeting them in the "vir...tual life," as Kola put it), told me: - I’d never dare go to Thailand because of its reputation. And I played dumb: - Oh really? What’s Thailand’s reputation? He took my question literally: - The girls! I died laughing.

But in 2025, when it came time to leave India after those damn 90 consecutive days max, I wasn’t thinking the same way anymore. And then I thought: Sri Lanka didn’t really do it for me. Nepal, I’ve loved multiple times, but it’s just too cold there in December/January. Bali last year was great, but I didn’t get to enjoy it much because of the torrential rains at that time. Go back to France? Too expensive, and then there’s the cold—no way!

So why not Thailand?

What an interesting and addictive writing style. What a pleasure to rediscover a country I know so well through someone else’s eyes.

The man of character shines through immediately, along with the man of direct speech.

Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your point. It’d be a shame after taking so many.

I was so impatient to see this!!

Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your point.

My title was changed without my knowledge, and it no longer has anything to do with what I was saying. My original title was: "Skyscrapers, markets, ice, tourism, and waterfalls... Thailand's extravagance" Why talk about wandering and digressions when I was specifically discussing the thought process behind planning my itinerary and trip? "Wandering" is really pejorative and judgmental—it’s the complete opposite of "thoughtful." My travel plan was carefully considered; I didn’t decide on a whim or randomly. Quite the opposite! With a title like that, everything I’ve said and intend to share is completely misrepresented. The title doesn’t reflect—at all—what I’ve written or will write, and it won’t make sense with the rest of my story. I’ve already written several pages, but I wasn’t going to publish them all at once. With a title like that, I sound like some lost soul! Actually, these first few pages are just the INTRODUCTION to my travel journal, which I’m crafting as a literary piece. It was precisely through reflection, wisdom, hesitation, weighing the pros and cons, etc., that I was able to have the amazing trip I was about to recount. The exact opposite of wandering and digressions. I didn’t just charge in blindly—I took a very personal journey at my own pace, and I’m returning dazzled, ready to share it all.

Another AI blunder—I did say we should be wary of it Seriously, whoever made that call could’ve at least given you a heads-up. But we all know, Jean-Marie, that the real magic of your stories lies far beyond the title.

Apart from the fact that I’m surprised VF took the liberty of changing the title of this travel journal, which wasn’t at all objectionable, I also find this edit distorting and quite pejorative. While the original title was quite clear, it now gives the impression of the ramblings of a traveler who’s not quite all there, lost in their travel delusions and memories.

Yet, I think this journal’s opening is wonderfully well-written. Sure, it goes against the grain of the travel journals we’re used to reading, but it’s ultimately more interesting. And not at all delusional—just approached from a different angle.

Thanks to the mods for restoring my title. Sure, it’s unusual and might raise eyebrows, but that’s exactly why I wanted it to be intriguing—enough to make people curious and check out what’s written. And then, "La Thaïlande de la démesure" has a nuance that "la démesure de la Thaïlande" doesn’t. Just like "un grand homme" doesn’t mean the same as "un homme grand," or "avoir un certain âge" vs. "un âge certain"—and so many other turns of phrase. I love the richness of the French language. As for "errances," it perfectly captured a pejorative sense, like ramblings or wild ideas. I’m not naive or clueless. And I’m not the only one who interpreted it that way—Pagaljavab got it too. As for digressions in a travel story, they’re nothing like the ones implied in the changed title. Alright, shall we move on? The critiques and comments are coming in hot… Come on! Shovel some coal into the locomotive! !

A few attached images of the sheer scale, seen from the 74th floor. I’ll delete them in a few days so I don’t clutter up the travel journal...

Don’t hesitate to add a few more photos than planned—they won’t detract from your post. It’d be a shame after taking so many.

Alright, sir. So I’ll try to attach more, but I’ll delete them after a few days to avoid cluttering my photo account. The issue is that right now I’m working on the text, which takes hours—digging through memories, finding the right words… And I don’t have time to pick the best photos yet.

I’ll be following this travel journal closely—just to see if, like me between Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Chiang Rai (and their surrounding areas, which I know just a tiny tiny tiny bit), you’ve bypassed some of the must-sees to discover where there’s nothing to see [:)]

Plus, I love reading when it’s well-written and when there are no photos, so…

I’ll be following this travel journal closely—just to see if, like me between Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Chiang Rai (and their surrounding areas, which I know just a tiny tiny tiny bit), you’ve bypassed some must-sees (not all, of course) to discover places where there’s ‘nothing to see’

Still, since I like to form my own opinions, there are a number of must-sees I didn’t skip—precisely because they *are* must-sees ;). And others I thought were "off the beaten path," to use the now-standard phrase, but really weren’t. Or more accurately, they *used* to be, until they got "recommended" left and right without much thought. A few times, I was unpleasantly surprised to find crowds where I expected to be alone. But I also ended up alone in spots where I’d normally expect crowds. Though, careful—I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Crowds or no crowds, excess or not, I’m coming back with a ton of images burned into my memory and so much happiness and emotion in my head. And that’s what makes a trip successful!

Thanks for the link to your travel journal on mine, Jean Marie. I hadn’t noticed you’d started sharing your Thailand trip! 👍

I don’t say this too loudly, but out of all the countries I’ve visited in my life, Thailand is the only one I really didn’t like! I have to admit, I went there AFTER visiting almost every other Southeast Asian country—when I should’ve gone BEFORE! Plus, I was in Karnataka in April and then Thailand in September (this was back in 2011), and the contrast was just too much for me in terms of tourist pressure and how welcoming the locals were. I really missed the curiosity of the Indians—Thais just couldn’t have cared less about us 😅 (which is totally understandable given how many Westerners pass through there!). But I’ll definitely be following your journal with interest. Christelle

Hi Christelle, and thanks for following my travel journal!

I really missed the curiosity of Indians because the Thais couldn’t care less about us

Well, for me it’s the complete opposite!!! Haha! I really appreciated the Thais’ discretion, and the awful curiosity/nosiness of Indians drove me crazy as soon as I arrived at Bangalore airport, and it continues daily here. Just this morning, an Indian guy who I replied to: "What’s it to you?" in French, but from my look, I think he got the message loud and clear.

I was sure you’d reply, Jean Marie 😄

But I also handle the “were you from?” questions on my vacation way better than my neighbor who spies on me from behind her curtains 🕵️‍♀️

I totally agree with you, Solène, that Thailand is the country we liked the least out of all the ones we visited in Asia. Still, we went up north, near the border with Laos, in the villages along the Mekong, and we have really fond memories of that. If I ever go back to Thailand, that’s where I’ll head first...

Hi Anne, and thanks for following my travel journal!

I totally agree with you, Solène, that Thailand was the country we liked the least out of all the ones we visited in Asia.

Before I go on, could you elaborate? Why didn’t you like it? Where did you go? How long did you spend in the different places you stayed?

I dunno 🤔. I’m kinda scared you’ll hit me with a “why do you even care?” 😅

I hear a lot of tourists asking questions about consuming ice cubes in Thailand. Many people are afraid of getting sick during their stay. Personally, I’ve had them everywhere I’ve been and never had a problem. I found all the answers in this article: https://www.ouiauparadis.com/glacons-thailande/glacons-en-thailande/

Just to be clear, that wasn’t my point at all. Thanks

I just realized tonight that there’s a big omission in my list—one that really carries some weight. Because it’s excess on top of excess. How could I have forgotten it?

I’ll continue tomorrow

Hi Anne, and thanks for following my travel journal

I completely agree with you, Solène, that Thailand is the country we liked the least of all the ones we visited in Asia.

Before I continue, could you elaborate? Why didn’t you like it? Where did you go? How long did you spend in the different places you stayed?

Hey Jean-Marie, we went to Thailand in 2017 after spending a month in Myanmar. We stayed in Thailand for a month. If we liked it less, it was because of the number of Western tourists... When we arrived in Chiang Mai, it felt like stepping out of the Paris metro with crowds on the sidewalks. Coming from Myanmar, it was quite a shock! We crossed the border at Mae Sot, and here’s what I wrote about it on my site:

In Chiang Mai: We were stunned by the number of tourists, go-go bars, shops, tour agencies, huge ads for elephant camps or zip lines with monkeys, etc. Everything we hate... Okay, to be honest, we still have good memories of Thailand, especially in the north (scooter rides around Chian Mai, and especially our stay in villages along the Mekong: Chiang Khan, Sangkom, Nong Khai and its wild sculpture park...). We wanted to avoid the touristy islands and preferred the coast below Bangkok: Prachuap Khiri Khan and Ban Krut... In Bangkok, visiting the beautiful temples by taking the river transport and exploring the stunning temples of Ayutthaya by bike are also great memories...

I’ll keep reading your travel journal with interest... and maybe return to Thailand one day!

and it’s totally understandable given the number of Westerners who travel there!

I mostly get the feeling that it’s locals passing through who are traveling there. I’d say more than 80% in Bangkok right now.

I think Thailand’s bad reputation comes from the fact that all Westerners pretty much go to the same places in the same way.

I’m currently renting a car, and my experience is different. (Something that’s harder to do in Southeast Asia, I think. Even more difficult in India. Here, it’s manageable.)

Except when I end up in tourist ghettos where, just like everywhere else, the same causes produce the same effects.

I’ve had the unpleasant surprise of finding crowds where I thought I’d be alone a few times

It happened to me this morning.[;)]

Except it was Asians, not Westerners.

The effect’s a little different...

Hey Agnès, we’re gonna end up bumping into each other at an airport if this keeps up! 😄

Seriously, I don’t doubt there are still places in Thailand untouched by tourist pressure. All the spots that aren’t in guidebooks, on Insta, or TikTok... 😩

But I haven’t been lucky either. Once, I had a layover in Bangkok after 3 weeks in Myanmar. I booked a random hotel on Booking, and even though I’d barely seen any Westerners during my trip, I ran into 4 or 5 old/ugly guys, all with *very* young Thai companions 🤢. And I’m not sure you can avoid that, even just in the airport!

But of course, I’d never say Thailand is "terrible"—I’m just saying it’s not for me.

Have a blast and tell us all about it when you get back! 😉

Christelle

I come across 4 or 5 old/ugly guys all with very, very young Thai women

It’s kinda the same all over the world...

Rich as Croesus...

After that, there are plenty of Croesuses who get fleeced.

I just realized tonight that there’s a big omission in my list, and yet it’s a heavyweight one. Because it’s extravagance within extravagance. How could I have forgotten it?

I’ll continue tomorrow

Emmanuel Macron? Voyajou? Buddha? The Thais?

Whether a trip succeeds—or doesn’t—depends a lot on how you approach it. What it means to you. What your mindset is. I mean, your psychological sea conditions... Calm sea? Beautiful? Slightly choppy? Choppy? Rough? And the wind? A gentle breeze? A nice breeze? A fresh wind? Strong wind? And the weather? And visibility?

For me, it wasn’t any of that. More like fleeing forward, or rather, the lifeboat. Leaving the one I was on, which was taking on water from all sides...

So why not Thailand?

- From India, it’s really not expensive. I’ll go for 2 or 3 weeks to explore, to "get a feel for the place"...

I needed a change of scenery. My heart was heavy... I loved India so much, yet I was discovering all its disguises, all its quirks. Still, I loved it. I still love it as I write these lines. But it feels like it’s doing everything to push me away. Actually, it’s not me being unfaithful—it’s India rejecting me, through the way it is. It’s changed so much! Even if tourists say nothing’s changed, that it’s timeless. But tourists only see the surface—the first layer, the folklore, the chaos, the mess, really. They’re the ones who want it to stay the same.

It seems like Anita Nair put it well in ** (a brick of a book!): We can’t keep living in the Middle Ages just to please them! "Them" being us Westerners, the tourists.

What’s changed, and what tourists don’t notice, are the mentalities, the behaviors. And all sorts of little things that, in the end, make all the difference.

I still love India, but India doesn’t love me anymore.

If I stopped coming to India, could I start a new life? If I left, would I find comfort in the arms of its rival, Thailand—the beautiful, new Siren, or maybe Circe?

Today, I make Anne Vanderlove’s "Ballad in November" my own:

Let me keep my memories Let me keep my lost loves It’s time to close the door Time to go to sleep...

It’s raining On the garden, on the shore And if there’s water in my eyes It’s because it’s raining On my face...

If I’ve burned so many candles Since the time we last saw each other And if I remain faithful to her What good is so much virtue Let me keep my lost loves Let me keep my memories But before closing the door Let me take the time to laugh about it The time to try to smile...

It’s raining On the garden, on the shore And if there’s water in my eyes It’s because it’s raining On my face...

I bought no fewer than four paper guides and browsed the web. But I’m a terrible spider—I couldn’t make sense of all the contradictory information.

I searched for "Thailand off the beaten path," hoping to find some traveler blogs with tips. No luck! They all pounced on me like flies on jam—"stay here, trek there," this one with this tribe, that one in that village. No one goes to the East, but we’ll take you. The West is packed with tourists, but we know spots with no one...

In all that mess, the only thing I figured out was that 3 weeks wasn’t enough. I switched to a month. I started getting a rough idea of what I’d like to visit, thanks to the paper guides—especially the *Michelin Green Guide*, which I recommend.

- Oh, look at you, recommending things now too! - Stop interrupting me!

You recognize her, right? You know her already... She’s always there... She never leaves me...

As I was saying, I started getting a rough idea of my trip, so I booked my flight tickets for a 46-day stay. I’d just learned that Thailand had extended its visa exemption from 30 to 60 days.

And then—oh, miracle!—VF reopened!

The success—or failure—of a trip depends a lot on how we approach it. What it means to us. What our state of mind is. I mean our psychological sea weather...

Well said! That’s why returning to the same place multiple times won’t give us the same feeling depending on the moment in our lives, the season, the people we’re traveling with, etc.

I’m really happy with how you’re approaching your travel journal. I started in a similar style for my Rajasthan journal, which I still haven’t published because I thought it might be too long and digressive for people. But you’re encouraging me to keep going this time—I find it much more interesting in the end. If only to capture that mood of the moment you’re talking about, which determines the whole perception and success of the trip.

And through your words, I’m discovering Thailand better—a place I don’t know and may never visit.

For me, it wasn’t any of that. More like running away, or more precisely, the lifeboat. Leaving the one I was on that was taking on water from all sides...

But isn’t there still a lot of "psychological sea weather" in that?

Yeah, it really depends a lot on our mindset and interests too: monuments, landscapes, or people 😊. One place will be super interesting for one person and not for another. But I love the start of your travel journal—you can really feel the sincerity. Can’t wait for the rest! 😄

And I’m getting to know Thailand better through your words—a country I don’t know and may never visit.

But I haven’t even started talking about Thailand yet... [;)] I was just thinking you’d find this intro a bit long-winded. But for me, it feels essential to explain my mindset when I arrived in Bangkok. I’ll continue tomorrow.

But I haven’t even started talking about Thailand yet... I was actually thinking you’d find this intro a bit long-winded.

No, not at all—I’m already finding it really vivid. And the way you’ve started describing it speaks to me just as much as a detailed itinerary, encounters, or sightseeing descriptions.

And lo and behold—oh, miracle!—VF has reopened!

Quick, quick, my first request for advice, then a second, then a third... I was helped a lot by several members. I shared my plan—way too ambitious. Too exhausting for an old guy, or so I was told. I shot back in my usual feisty style that I wasn’t bedridden. Old, me? No way! I can say it, but others can’t . The gentleman didn’t like that. Too bad—he took my humor the wrong way. People often don’t get my humor, especially when it’s caustic. Caustic doesn’t mean mean. Hard to prove when people label you without knowing you... and refuse to get to know you because the label’s already stuck.

So I trimmed it down. But then *they* all started sending me completely contradictory “advice,” competing with each other. Even started throwing compliments—with plenty of thorns. And there I was, feeling like an idiot, keeping score but not knowing whose advice to follow. Luckily, I found Jojoone’s travel journals, which gave me some direction and a serious urge to follow in their footsteps. Especially the stunning photos by his professional photographer wife.

I say *their* footsteps because, well, there are two of them. A four-handed travel journal before it was even a thing. He writes, she takes the photos. The pioneers of the four-handed journal, in a way. How many years has it been? But she prefers to stay in the background—no spotlight, no loud voice. So the four hands went unnoticed. But what photos! With every new page, I thought: *I want to see that, I want to go there.* But the guy was discreet, stingy with public details, so we swapped emails, and I got a clearer picture of how to shape my trip.

They followed up via email and WhatsApp, but I kept doing my own research too—I’m not the type to say, *I want to go to Thailand, plan my itinerary for free, you VF Thailand regulars.*

More disagreements popped up: *You’re staying here too long, not enough there...* And then this one saying *Go here*, and that one immediately writing, *No, don’t do that, it’s stupid—go there instead.* And they started throwing shade again. This time, Jojo went quiet—him, so chatty [;)]—and just kept score. So I thanked them both. I mulled it over and leaned toward what seemed like the wiser advice—wiser for me, for my tastes, for my age. The other guy got offended—who knows why? No sweet words this time, just some bitter remarks. We’re free to listen to whoever we want, right? I’d thanked them plenty of times, after all. I always say thanks, even if I don’t follow the advice. Because I don’t like being forgotten after bending over backward to help—sending tons of photos I spent ages digging up, sharing details about renting perks in a place or region...

I’d already trimmed my itinerary *a lot*—2 days here, one night there, then 3 or 4 somewhere else—with the first two weeks in Bangkok as my base.

Later, I listened to everyone saying two weeks in Bangkok was crazy or pointless: too much noise, insane traffic, too much pollution, nothing interesting to see outside the major temples—packed with tourists. So I canceled my second week in the apartment.

Another aside: when I stay somewhere long-term, I always pick an apartment over a hotel room, even if I eat out. But buying a great dish from a great restaurant and savoring it at home? Love that. And mornings? I’m slow. *Slow* is an understatement. It takes me a good two hours after waking up to be functional. Plus, an apartment always has a microwave, a washing machine, and sometimes even a dishwasher. Budget-wise, it’s barely pricier than a good hotel room—which, in India these days, runs between 1800 and 2500 rupees (20 to 25 € for those allergic to local currencies). And I’ve even paid less for an apartment than a hotel room in some cities because demand was lower.

Everything was finally planned when, while casually browsing through my paper and online guides, I discovered a great list of sites to visit and things to do in Bangkok. And above all, Chinatown—without even having seen it, but just from reading what people said about it—struck me as a first cousin to India. I could tell, I just knew, that I was going to love it.

Most of all, I listened to myself because I know myself inside out. I knew that with my pace of life, my desires, and my temperament, a week wouldn’t be enough to follow my new itinerary without rushing, without pushing myself, without stressing. I need time—lots of it—to wander and stroll through a city I’m discovering.

When I arrive, I don’t rush out within ten minutes to visit some temple or the local big-shot palace. I prefer to start by exploring the area around my accommodation. And often, you stumble upon surprises—a hidden gem that no one’s ever mentioned anywhere.

Also, I travel with a bit of my home on my back: my laptop, an external hard drive for photos, my camera and accessories, and a few comfort items. As you get older, you need to keep your little habits and quirks. It’s a hassle to unpack just to find the one thing you need at that moment, only to repack a few days later.

So, suddenly, I turned everything upside down. Back to square one: I’ll stay two weeks in Bangkok. Meanwhile, a woman on the forum advised me to check out Thailandee.com (with two e’s), a free, well-documented virtual guide.

The few new discoveries I made there complemented the many details I’d gathered from Jojoone’s various travel journals. And the ones he shared with me confidentially made me think that Chiang Mai would be the highlight of my trip. So, I decided to stay there for 20 days, exploring the surrounding area within a 50 to 80 km radius, and finish my short journey with 9 days in Chiang Rai for the same reasons and under the same conditions.

I quickly reinstated my apartment booking in Bangkok for two weeks and canceled the ones in the cities where I’d planned to stay for several days.

Jojo didn’t say anything, but I could tell he disapproved of my plan. A little disappointed (hurt?) that I wasn’t following his advice. I didn’t say anything either.

Of course, for these two destinations, I planned to get around by private vehicle. I knew I was resourceful enough not to pay top dollar—17 years of travel-stays in India really helps.

When I announced this on VF, I got all kinds of negative comments, but nothing would make me change my mind this time. I wouldn’t alter anything no matter what anyone said. I’d see once I was there if any adjustments were needed.

Yet, in hindsight, it would’ve been better to do the opposite: 9 days in Chiang Mai and 20 in Chiang Rai. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

A big thank you to Partirdeloin, Songsam, Langsuan, Quensol, Attila, and two or three others whose usernames I’ve forgotten (please forgive me).

Alright, enough chit-chat—are you coming with me?

You’ve often lent me thoughts I didn’t have! I was sometimes thrown off by your changes of direction, but given that this was your first discovery—a long stay on top of that—it’s not surprising you shifted course several times. I understand it all the more since, when I organize my trips alone, I adjust the route based on the info I dig up and/or the complications I run into.

I sensed you were pretty organized and thoughtful, which turned out to be true, and I gathered that your final choice was a solid synthesis of your research and the advice you got from others. I can admit that, in hindsight, most of my trips would’ve been split up differently.

Oh, some of your choices threw me off, like the White Temple I never saw and never will—but you were the one on the ground, so it was up to you to decide. Unlike many, you put in the effort to dig for info over and over, not just swallowing everything you were handed whole. I just hope it paid off for you.

Anyway, the first time is all about discovery, making contact, and feeling things out. Only that first experience will let *you*, Jean-Marie, decide your options for any future trips.

What would I have looked like if I’d suggested spending more time in Chiang Rai than Chiang Mai? People would’ve laughed in my face. Just look at how crowded those regions are, and you’ll see one is way more appealing than the other. For me, no contest—I’d vote CM hands down. That said, my opinion comes from someone who’s only ever been there in July, not during peak season. Plus, without knowing someone personally, how much can you really advise them? It’s the same issue people on VF often face when trying to answer questions…

You don’t travel the same way I do, and I’d say your approach might even be more interesting than mine. You’re probably a better walker, a keen observer, with different preferences—but hey, vive la différence!

Your intro hints at a sprawling travel journal; as Baudelaire said: "To the happy few!" !

Just look at the attendance in these regions and you can tell that one is clearly more appealing than the other.

Good evening Joël, I don’t feel like diving into a debate about these cities/regions at the start of my travel journal. We can revisit it later if you’d like, but for now, I can tell you that what attracts others doesn’t matter to me. What interests and excites *me* is what attracts *me*.

What would I have looked like if I’d suggested spending more time in Chiang Rai than in Chiang Mai? People would’ve laughed in my face.

You’ve got to not care what others think. You saw what I wrote earlier—everyone has the right to share their opinion or advice without someone else jumping in to criticize or mock. It just messes with the person who asked for advice in the first place.

I was writing to one of you in private this morning that I was afraid I had nothing to tell you and that this travel journal was fizzling out. Indeed, I’ve taken a lot of photos, but nothing particularly interesting has happened to share. For me, a journal with lots of photos and very little text—or just captions like "here you see a Buddha" and "here’s a lobster"—isn’t a very exciting journal.

Actually, I wasn’t expecting anything from this trip. It was just necessary to leave India after 90 days. I’d also considered Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam... After all that hesitation, changes, and second-guessing, I wondered if my trip wasn’t going to turn into a disaster. And it nearly did.

I almost missed my flight!

I’d calculated that I had to leave India by January 19th after 88 days, because I always keep a safety margin from the 90-day limit—Indian immigration doesn’t mess around when you overstay. One of my worst moments at Bangalore immigration was that question about the last allowed date. (By the way, please stop saying "customs" and "customs officers" for immigration and its staff. Immigration has nothing to do with customs. Customs checks your luggage and what you’re importing or exporting. Immigration checks your identity and your comings and goings in the country.)

That evening, the immigration officer inspected my passport with great suspicion. He looked at me like I was a criminal, then looked back at the passport, flipped through the pages, stared endlessly at his computer, then looked at me again. Without saying a word. And in those situations, it’s better to say nothing, not ask questions. After a good while of this routine, he walked off to an office, still without a word and still eyeing me like I was a dangerous person. The wait dragged on, and I wondered what kind of trouble I was in. He finally came back, stamped my passport, and gave me a big smile as he handed it back. More than half an hour had passed. So I risked asking: - What was the problem? - You're leaving on the last day of your stay. That was suspicious!

So I’d planned to leave on January 19th and had booked my apartment for arrival on the 19th. But by leaving on the 19th, I’d arrive after midnight—so the 20th. So I’d changed my flight to leave Kochi on the 18th to arrive on the 19th. Only my brain didn’t register that detail. I’d told everyone—and myself—that I was leaving for Thailand on January 19th. It was written everywhere, even in my planner: "departure for Thailand" on the January 19th page. On the 17th, my suitcases were packed, with just last-minute items left to add. I’d do that the next evening, the 18th, the day before departure. Then, while checking my train ticket, I realized it was dated the 18th, not the 19th. - Damn, I got the date wrong when booking the train! And to be sure, I checked the flight date too—January 18th.

I’d completely forgotten about changing the flight date!

If that’s not a "Freudian slip," then I’m the pope. Bad omen. I concluded that, in my head, I didn’t want to leave.

So I left Kannur by train for Angamaly, which I mentioned about my return (post 192). Angamaly has the advantage of being very close to the airport. And to wait comfortably during the eight hours before check-in, I rented—a stroke of luck—a nice, spacious apartment for just 1500 rupees, much cheaper than the surrounding hotels, and so close to the airport that without luggage, I could’ve walked. The very friendly residence manager went out of his way to have a meal delivered so I wouldn’t have to go out. I’d had a pretty restless, sleepless night because of the thousand thoughts swirling in my head about this trip. I’d told my VF friends who’d helped me that I was pretty anxious about traveling to a country I knew nothing about. In fact, I was almost in the same state of mind as during my first trip to India. Read it—you’ll probably laugh, I think.

What was really freaking me out was arriving at Bangkok’s huge airport. I dreaded immigration formalities (I’m traumatized by India’s, almost every time I arrive in Bangalore), a customs check of my luggage packed with meds for two months plus a buffer... The currency exchange too. I’d budgeted 3000 €, thinking I’d planned generously. But some people seemed to think it might be a bit tight. Luckily, others said it’d be more than enough. Yes, but I didn’t tell them I’m kind of a compulsive shopper of local crafts. A lot for gifts, a little for myself. I get as much—if not more—pleasure from choosing presents as I do from buying things for myself. I’d planned to exchange only 2000 €, hoping it’d be enough. Then Joël advised me to exchange the whole amount. - Do you think I can leave most of it in the apartment, hidden, since there’s no safe? - Never leave money in hotel rooms. Get a money belt or a hidden bag. And never leave any electronics or cameras either. - You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to walk around everywhere with my laptop and accessories, my camera and its gear...

Well, with my AMEX and REVOLUT cards, I should manage if I run short on cash. But I had to think about the three months in India after this Thailand stay.

I also dreaded the taxi hassles that jump on you, used to that scenario repeating every time I arrived in India before UBER let me escape it. And then there were my worries about getting around Bangkok. People had raved about the metro, but I was afraid of getting lost. Tuk-tuks? Not highly recommended, and endless negotiations... Joël swears by taxis, but someone else said that even if they’re cheap for a Westerner, they still add up and would eat into my budget.

But everyone agreed: - Stop stressing like that! You’ll see how easy Thailand is to travel. Everything’s so much simpler. After all the hassles, scams, and complications of India, you’ll feel really comfortable traveling in Thailand...

And as I rested, lying in a comfortable bed instead of waiting for check-in slumped in an uncomfortable airport chair, I fell asleep feeling completely at ease. I’d just realized all my anxiety had suddenly vanished, and a little flame of joy had lit up deep in my heart.

I’d just started my trip...

I had just started my trip...

I was actually wondering when we’d get to Thailand! Well, it might not be too long now [:)] And I can’t wait to read your thoughts and emotions from your journey—that’s what’s so interesting! So, bring on the next part...

Even those pre-trip feelings and thoughts, I find them at least as important as what comes after. For me, the journey started the moment I began this travel journal.

Oh, I’m not disputing the start of the trip—I can’t wait to get to Thailand! That said, I think I get that with this travel journal’s author, you’ve gotta be patient [:)].

I think I get that with the author of this travel journal, you’ve gotta be patient [:)].

Patient and attentive [;)] to the details, the circumstances, the setting of the scene, the different characters and their personalities. And when there aren’t any photos, you’ve gotta use your imagination. I’m sorry, but I must have the gene of the Arab storyteller who keeps their audience on the edge of their seats for hours and saves the rest for the next day at the most gripping moment. And who even imagines different versions, can’t remember them, doesn’t tell the same details depending on the audience, the day, or the place… So immersed in their own story that they live or relive it as they tell it. If you want, I can also give you the short version: I went to Thailand, I saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions. If my photos even express my emotion or don’t express anything at all.

I also feel like saying that for me, my trip actually started in August when I bought my paper guides to figure out where I was going. And describing the context in which I decided to take this trip to Thailand, as well as the situation I was in during the few weeks and days just before leaving, seemed essential to me. It’s clear that in a completely different context, the trip itself would have been entirely different too.

If you want, I can also do the short version: I went to Thailand, I saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions.

Brilliant. And to think some people stress over making elaborate travel journals when, really, it’s so simple to make a travel journal.

If you want, I can also do the short version: I went to Thailand, saw a lot of Buddhas. I loved Thailand—or I hated Thailand—and I’m attaching 300 photos to help you understand my emotions.

Brilliant. And to think some people stress over making elaborate travel journals when, really, it’s so simple to put together a travel journal.

The guy’s a genius—knows how to whip up either long or short journals on a whim. Journals with photos or without. [:P]

He’s a man of great talent, who can whip up either long travel journals or short ones at will. Travel journals with photos or without. [:P]

Come on, stop talking nonsense and just read on...

I’d taken an Indigo flight from Kochi to Bangkok with a layover in Hyderabad. Clearing immigration there took barely a few minutes, which reinforced my belief that it’s really the Bangalore team that’s nitpicky, incompetent, or poorly trained. The same went for the cabin baggage security check. At Bangalore, their detection equipment must be outdated and not very effective, because after scanning bags, they often can’t identify certain items and ask travelers to check their bags. More often than not, they make you empty almost everything, mixing it all up, disregarding the privacy of your belongings, and then you’re left to figure out how to put it all back in order. It was during one of these stressful checks that, a few years earlier, I’d forgotten to put my laptop back in its protective case, and it had stayed in the bin. I only realized when I got home to Kannur and opened my bag. I’d accused the restroom attendant of stealing my laptop because he’d kindly offered to watch my cart while I went to relieve myself. And I was convinced I’d put it back in my bag after the security check. Of course, the laptop was never found at Bangalore Airport! Despite a supposedly thorough investigation by their lost-and-found service after the security check.

So, with a light heart and the idiotic smile of a "happy camper" who hadn’t slept on Christmas Eve, I landed at Suvarnabhumi, Bangkok’s main airport. I’d mentally rehearsed my arrival thanks to the clear explanations on Thaïlandee.com (https://www.thailandee.com). This guy had the brilliant idea to make a full video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vmfC_0zTxU), playing the role of a confused traveler arriving in Thailand for the first time… It’s way clearer than the best explanations. You just put yourself in the guy’s shoes and do the same!

But I didn’t follow the exit route exactly the same way. I needed a SIM card right away and didn’t want to pay by credit card. (Even though French people still call it a "carte bleue"—when it hasn’t been blue for ages, there’s more than one type, and they come in all colors except blue. Same with saying "téléphone portable" when the whole world says "mobile phone." In my humble opinion, it’s best not to stay too "franchouillard" if you want to be understood when traveling outside France. 😜)

So I had to go down to the basement to exchange all my euros, then go back up to the second floor to buy my SIM card, and then down to the first floor to exit. I mention this detail to show just how comfortable and well-designed Bangkok Airport is. There are plenty of escalators, elevators, information signs, floor plans, and everything you need. Despite the travel fatigue, I had no trouble handling all these steps and back-and-forths before finally leaving the airport.

Things started to feel a bit Indian when the taxi driver asked for 500 THB instead of the 320 shown on the meter. I’d preferred to pay the tolls myself to get small change. But I quickly realized that everywhere—at counters, markets, even the smallest stalls—people had change, and I no longer heard the Indian refrain: "Sorry, sir, no change." I was floating in a kind of dazed mix of heat, fatigue, euphoria, and surprise, so I wasn’t about to argue with the driver over 180 THB! But I was already confusing THB and INR. I’ll come back to that later. This mistake caused me a few nasty disappointments during my stay.

I soon discovered that the optimistic legend dear to our friend Joël—the land of smiles—is just that: a legend. Smiles, yes, but often commercial, hypocritical, and only sincere and spontaneous in villages far from tourists. I quickly sensed the Thais’ exasperation with tourists. But I’ll develop that later. For now, I’m just talking about my first impressions upon arrival. For example, at the airport, the young women from the internet provider were downright unpleasant and impatient with my questions about the best plan. I even found out after a month that they’d either lied to me or were incompetent. But I think they were just in a really bad mood. On the other hand, one of my positive observations was finding competent and well-trained staff almost everywhere I went—unlike in India. May our friend Ragamuffin forgive me, if he reads these lines, for comparing these two countries. I’m not comparing them as destinations but as ways of life, daily behaviors, and comfort (or discomfort) for a traveler like me discovering Thailand.

I also felt a bit of disillusionment upon arriving at my accommodation. While it was indeed a residential apartment building, it wasn’t really one in the usual sense. Let’s say it was halfway between a hotel and a residence, with some hotel perks but also quite a few drawbacks that a "real" residence wouldn’t have. Starting with my lodging, which was neither a room nor an apartment. At best, a large studio with no kitchen or living area. No chairs either. Just two stools. One in front of a long shelf meant to serve as a desk. The other in front of a sort of desk-table converted into a kitchen table by a plastic-coated cover featuring an electric kettle, two plates, two sets of cutlery, two mugs, no glasses, and two large soup bowls. I quickly realized that what they call "soup"—more like a broth—is the most commonly served and eaten dish by guests. On the fridge (which had no freezer) sat a microwave. No closet, just two measly drawers and two nightstands serving as storage. A huge 2m x 2m bed that was *very* comfortable. A glass cage in front of a gaping opening with no window, overlooking a narrow alley dominated by the opposite building’s wall, blocking all natural light. The so-called cage replacing a window could be opened, but why, except to air out the place? The whole thing bathed in a sober atmosphere meant to feel luxury-chic-modern, with walls painted in burgundy, gray, and black. The height of this ultra-"trendy" design was the heavy plastic curtain serving as a door to separate the bedroom from the bathroom with toilet. Needless to say, in case of traveler’s diarrhea, the smell would spread throughout the room. In the hallways, from reception to the terrace, wafted the sweet smell of hashish smoke, which perfumed the place. I say "perfumed" because I love that smell. But the icing on the cake—or should I say the champagne—was a huge terrace beautifully decorated to give the illusion of a garden, surrounded by a stunning effect of a forest of fantastic skyscrapers, day and night. Next to the terrace, a large laundry area with three big washing machines and a dry cleaner (I don’t know what it’s called in French). Plenty of clotheslines, drying racks, hangers, and clothespins—enough for all the tenants. And free detergent. The whole area was sheltered but well-ventilated, allowing clothes to dry in an hour or two max given the heat. A very sweet little tortoiseshell cat often hanging around the hallways and terrace, never intrusive or bothersome. The owners, a gay couple—one British, the other Thai—were only present from 10 AM to 12 or 1 PM but *very* available via WhatsApp. This—too?—long description to say that despite all its drawbacks and shortcomings, I felt like I was in a warm cocoon where it was nice to settle in at the end of the day for a good night’s sleep in a peaceful, restful silence.

From the very first hours—even the first minutes—I noticed two things: drivers didn’t honk like maniacs as they do in India. In fact, THEY DIDN’T HONK AT ALL. And they respected pedestrians, didn’t speed toward them or brush past them like crazy. And they didn’t drive fast either. These two facts alone made Bangkok instantly pleasant to visit, despite its reputation as hellish, and its inhabitants seemed friendly.

Hello,

I’m enjoying following your adventures!

I’d rehearsed my arrival in my head thanks to the clear explanations on Thaïlandee.com

Just a heads-up that Mike (thailandee) is a former (and prominent) member of VF!

https://voyageforum.com/membres/asianmike/

have a great trip

A bit like back home, smiles are less common in the capital. The same goes for immigration services, government offices, certain tourist-heavy areas, professionals trained abroad, and people who are educated and financially comfortable—they tend to put on a bit of an act. It might be different in other galaxies, but on this planet, a smile is more of a tool to smooth social interactions than a constant display of kindness and bliss. In Thailand, I also see it as a mark of politeness—something we don’t really find much in Europe anymore.

No matter where we were in Bangkok, when it came to SIM cards, we always had charming and patient ladies helping us out. Again, a single unique experience doesn’t make a rule.

As for professionalism, there’s a lot to say. In short, Thai education, lifestyle, and work culture don’t really encourage it. That said, it’s far from universal—I’ve met plenty of Thais who were incredibly efficient. Okay, many of them had been trained by *farangs* or worked with them. [:)]

A quick note on horn usage: in Thailand, it’s mostly used to say hi to a friend or acquaintance. Using it in other situations is seen as a serious breach of etiquette—even the ultimate provocation. Many drivers avoid honking at all costs to prevent ending up in a regrettable shootout. Thais are generally calm and measured, but when the veneer cracks for one reason or another, things can escalate quickly.

It’s a shame that other noises—like the roar of aging engines, poorly maintained exhaust systems, or missing mufflers—create so much noise pollution. But compared to somewhere like Vietnam, Thailand is definitely quieter sound-wise.

Hi there, I’m loving following your adventures!

Thanks, I’m glad! Hope you won’t be disappointed.

Hi Joël, Thanks so much for following my travel journal so closely. It really means a lot to me. But are you only going to chime in to contradict me when what I say doesn’t align with your views? You asked me to share my impressions, my feelings, etc. about my trip to Thailand, and that’s what I’m doing. What I write only reflects my own perception of what I’ve seen and observed. I’m not generalizing at all, my friend, when I give an example. It’s just an example, not a generalization. And please, don’t pull the “if that’s how it is, I won’t say anything anymore” card on me too. That would be really childish. Have a great weekend.

And I thought: she must not have liked it, Dolma!!!

Haha! From Scotland to Thailand, it’s just a few pages away—so handy [:)]

The way you describe a room isn’t just a basic, monotonous list—it’s more like a dance set to the rhythm of your words. It twirls, it calms, then it takes off again.

I’ll be following your adventures with the occasional surprise, plenty of smiles and laughs, and always with pleasure…

But are you only going to step in to contradict me when what I say doesn’t align with your views?

It happens often in a travel journal. People’s feelings clash with each other’s.

That’s why it’s best to avoid reading certain authors who are the complete opposite of you...

A travel journal isn’t the truth. It’s just one story.

Personally, I now steer clear of stories that might annoy me.