Noodle Soup on familiar Turf

It’s 7:20 when we take off from Colombo, en route for the short 3h hop over to Bangkok. Once arrived, it takes a while to clear the long queue at immigration but finally I’m on the train into the centre.

Seeing the city approach brings back memories. I’ve only visited Bangkok properly twice (I think) but also came through a few times on my way to other destinations. All-in-all it feels somewhat familiar, yet still excitingly unknown.

I forgot how warm this corner of the planet can be. After having hauled my bags to the hostel, I’m soaked and in dire need for a shower. As I didn’t get any proper rest on the plane(s), I spend the following 2h in some limbo between wake and sleep. My mind wants to go out and find food while my body considers it a ludicrous idea.

Finally the mind wins and I roam the neighbouring sois (lanes) for the promised land (aka noodle soup). A food cart surrounded by slurping locals heralds redemption and I sit down on a low plastic stool. Once the bowl full of tasty broth, some pork, fresh vegetables and the name-giving noodles arrives, I’m a happy camper.


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