The plan for getting to Thailand was kind of complicated. There was no direct flight from Taipei to Bangkok that was within my budget so I bought two one-way tickets (on the same airline-learning from my Egyptian fiasco), to Manila and then on to Bangkok. I was spending a few hours back at my hostel before taking the train to the airport when I got an e-mail from my friend Daisy, who I was to meet in Bangkok. It started with “Omg. I don’t have my wallet,” and continued with “Freaking out. Also, typhoon is coming.”

I reassured her that we would figure out the money later, and then googled the typhoon. And where was it headed, but the Philippines. At that point they still thought it would hit Manila and were canceling flights, but not my flight. I used to love flying but at some point in my life (probably after watching Lost) I developed a fear of falling out of the sky. It wasn’t the fear of dying, but more the thought of falling for minutes, knowing death is certain. I have been assured by pilots and flight attendants that my fear scenario will never happen, but the emotional fear is still there.

Anyway, I was not excited about a flight through possibly the largest typhoon on record. I spoke to my Mom on Skype who was amazed at how calm I was as I was deciding whether I would even get on the plane or not. Either way I still needed to get to the airport by 11 pm, so I continued on with my original plan and after being reassured by both ticket counter attendants I ended up on the plane after all. It was a bumpy flight but I luckily had an empty seat next to me and was able to lie down which changed the turbulence sensation that my body reacts to, so I didn’t panic.

The ominous sky in Manila

In Manila the transfer desk was un-manned at 4 am so I had to actually leave the airport and check back in. I did a walk around the parking lot and touched some ferns while in the Philippines and then got on my next bumpy flight to Bangkok.

I will say that after 8 months I am finally recognizing that I have gained some skills. I was expecting Bangkok to be stressful but really, it was easier than some places I have been, but more than that I could feel myself going through the motions of asking random people questions, finding the at , reading maps, figuring out the ticket machine, all without any stress. I’ve done it all before and I know generally how it works. It was a cool realization.

First I got breakfast, then I stashed my pack at the left luggage counter for the next 8 hours. I got to the train station at the airport, cobbled together a plan using two different transportation maps, bought a token and away I went. After changing trains twice with some confusion but no problems, I ended up leading a Spanish man to the pier where we caught the ferry down the river to the Grand Temple. He was wearing shorts which is not allowed at many temples so I left him in the line waiting to rent long pants at the entrance. The bright green smocks that they give to women who have their shoulders exposed became a sort of “dress of shame” in my mind, although I shouldn’t really blame anyone because it was extremely hot out in the sun. I ended up doing the Asian thing and using my umbrella as a parasol, which did get me a fair number of looks.
Wat Arun from the river:

When talking to people about Bangkok I have usually been told, “spend one day there to see the Grand Palace, and then get out,” which was my plan. The Palace is very impressive and could be seen in one hour or six hours depending on how much you want to see (and can stand the crowds). It was Saturday which unfortunately meant most of the buildings were closed but I spent two hours getting lost oogling the golden buildings from the outside.

Next I made me way down a block, ignoring all of the hawkers and tuk tuk drivers telling me I was going the wrong way, to a back entrance of Wat Pho which houses the worlds largest reclining buddha. It also contains a famed massage school where I spontaneously got a 30 thai massage complete with odd manipulations and back cracking.

From there I walked maybe 30 minutes to where I had booked a $10 hotel room for the afternoon. Unknowingly I had picked a place on Khao San Road which is a tourist haven; tons of foreigners, shops, hawkers, and cheap hotel rooms. My room was pretty gross but good enough for a 3 hour nap after grabbing some pad thai and a cold beer downstairs. The “no Thai girls allowed upstairs. Supporting prostitution is illegal” sign threw me off a bit.

Concerned about walking back to the train station at night I asked the hotel to arrange a shuttle for me to the airport at 9 pm to meet Daisy around midnight. A guy showed up and after a confirming nod from the hotel owner I followed him through dark back alleys with one eye over my shoulder, around to two other hostels to pick up other travelers, and then magically to a fancy air conditioned van which got us there is record time. I retrieved my bag from the luggage storage counter, got some dinner, and met Daisy’s plane which arrived almost an hour early.
Late night reunion:

The transit did not end there. We had to get to the other airport 40 km away for our flight to southern Thailand at 5:50 am. Instructions were vague and we were prepared to cobble together a train and taxi route but amazingly I saw a sign for a free transit shuttle that runs until 11:30 pm. Thank goodness Daisy’s flight was early! We hopped in the shuttle, got to DMK airport and tried to nap on some chairs for a couple hours until we could check in for our flight to Phuket.

But the transit didn’t end there! Once we arrived in Phuket, we had another tight connection to make! We had decided to stay in Koh Lanta, an island across the bay which I have had recommended to me multiple times as a really relaxed, chill place where the massive tourists crowds haven’t made it to yet. There are two ferries that run there and we were hoping to catch the 9:00, from a pier an hour drive away, after landing at 7:30. We found a metered taxi and told him of our timeline and he totally booked it down the coast. We arrived with 20 minutes to spare.

These 36 hours seemed a miracle. Before leaving Taiwan I completely believed that we would not end up on the beach as planned. Daisy’s plane could have been grounded in Japan, mine in Taipei or Manila. We could have missed numerous connections. We could have gotten lost or ripped off, but none of those things happened. So far, Thailand was working for us, and in our exhausted, incredulous state, this was our view: