4th April - Bangkok

For breakfast we thought we'd try the chicken place that Kathleen had recommended. Apparently he started cooking early in the morning and had sold out by lunchtime so breakfast was the best time to indulge.
The chicken stall stood on the edge of the stangnant 'canal' than ran the length of the street round the corner from our hostel. The smell of it barbequeing somehow overpowered the stench of the water and could make your mouth water from 100 paces.

On the way, we were chatting away when I suddenly felt something much bigger than the usual mosquito or ant bite my thigh. I yelped and turned round to see a brown dog, scurrying away and looking back at me with an odd doggy look on his face. It dawned on me what had happened and the sickness and panic set in.
Matt coaxed me back to the hostel and half a minute later I was stood in their foyer, snotty, sweaty and sobbing. I went to the toilet to check if the skin was broken but it was only bruised. The concerned receptionist asked what had happened and asked what the dog had looked like.

Still shaking, Matt made me eat some chicken and we discussed what would make a dog that didn't growl or bark, make a grab at my leg and not the fresh, tasty chicken that was in Matt's hand. Matt suggested my flappy Indian trousers and I had to agree it was possible, although they may have also saved me from a better aimed bite.

Then the rain started. There was no pitter patter leading up to a steady beat but simply a big crash that didn't stop ringing. It was the first rain we'd seen in so long and the first taste of air even slightly fresher than that in a steam room, so we ran outside and got drenched. The receptionist and surrounding locals looked a bit bemused to see me opened armed and face-to-the-sky when they were all fleeing inside but it couldn't have come at a better time than for me.

We needed to get some clothes adjusted and Matt wanted to have his hair cut so the lady owner of the hostel sent her younger sister to show us where the best place for a hair cut was. The rain susbsided a little and gave us an excuse to carry a big brolly for protection but I was still super-nervous walking to the alleyway of the dog.

The girl asked the barber for some magazines of sample haircuts so that Matt could select one and explained that he would be next in line if he sat and waited. We'd passed an old man with a sewing machine sat on the corner of the street and I asked her to help me to explain to him what needed to be done to the clothes. It was fairly straight forward despite the numerous requests of what the clothes needed and I was soon back in the barber shop.

Matt was sat looking at very dated pictures of hairstyles, including a few punky numbers and the odd mullet, but had narrowed it down to a few. I took a picture of the one we wanted so we could compare it to the later result.

When Matt's turn came he sat in the chair and took off his glasses. He said it was so they didn't get in the way but I think he just didn't want to look! The barber was very lovely and completely helpful, miming questions about what was required and checking with me that he was doing what we wanted. The range of tools that he used, far exceeded the number that had been used on Matt's hair over his entire lifetime and about half an hour later, something was starting to take shape. The barber in Belper seemed not to know what to do with long hair and generally gave Matt something approximating a 'bob', but this guy was doing a cracking job.

After a final trimming of the length at the back, he moved on to Matt's beloved beard. It was soon very short and looking great so we asked him to go one step further give the bottom section around Matt's neck, a closer shave. Out came the cut-throat and within an hour we had a very new looking, slightly covered in baby powder, Matt. The guy who was patiently waiting his turn in line gave it a big thumbs up and the barber agreed to pose for a photo with his new work of art.

When we went to pay, the barber held up his hand to show five fingers. Matt said that it must been 50 baht but since that was such a small sum, I found that very unlikely. I wasn't thinking properly and scrapped around to find 500 baht to pay him. When I handed over the money he just laughed at me and handed it back. Turns out a hunky new Matty only costs £1! Bargain!

We had to go back to the hostel so Matt could have a shower to get rid of all the fine hairs that were sticking to him and we were half way there when we realised that we'd forgotten our brolly. The barber looked very relieved to see us and pointed towards where he had hung it for safekeeping.

There was no sign of the dog on the way back but I still didn't fancy risking another run-in so we chilled out for a while in our air-conditioned room and looked at making a few plans. We wanted to go for a Thai massage and had thought we might visit the one recommended on the wall at the hostel in the evening.
We were joined in our room by a big French guy who had a flat in Thailand and was just hanging around without a job at all. He recommended a different, significantly cheaper massage place so we thought we'd give that a try. It was so cheap that even if it was rubbish, we wouldn't have lost much if we then went to the posh place too.

I had a quick conversation with the owner of the hostel who told me that she had had to call City Hall to report the dog. I explained that it was probably only playing because it had not given us any warning but she was unconvinced, explaining that many dogs went mad in the heat and had to be dealt with. I tried to persuade her to tell me that the dog would go on doggy holiday but I could tell from her face that it wasn't the case. Poor dog. I'm sure he didn't mean it.

The massage place was over a pizza shop but looked pretty ok when we walked in. We selected our massage from the board and were taken upstairs to a darkened room, where there were a series of 'beds' on the floor. We were led past the lady being contorted by a strapping great masseur and told to put on some pyjamas. It felt a little like a visit to an odd hospital when she drew the curtain around each of our individual beds.

We changed and opened the curtains between us, whispering and giggling a little when two woman turned up. They had a short discussion about which one of us to take and I was assigned the young one, while Matt got the older one with her wrist in an elasticated bandage.

They started work straight away, working the muscles in our calves in a non-too-comfortable way. They both had slightly different sequences and I kept glancing over at Matt, wondering how he was coping with the drastic techniques and hoping that my lady was a little more gentle with me. Seconds later, I was chuckling uncontrollably as this tiny lady put her hands on my thighs at either side of my groin and then leaned all of her weight onto it. She did not miss a beat and continued on while I tried to compose myself. It was so uncomfortable, tender, alien and not at all funny but I struggled to to stop. Eventually I got my breathing into shape but still could not relax. It did not help that  we were so vulnerable and both women constantly talked to one another, most likely about us.

We were manipulated, twisted, crawled on, cracked, pressed, poked and pummelled for the next 40 mins until both ladies held their palms together, bowed their heads, thanked us and left. We grinned and grimaced at each other in the darkness and tried to dress in silence as the woman next to us continued to whimper, gasp and murmer behind her curtain.

I did not feel any more relaxed or an less achey than before we had gone in and my feet still throbbed and so we decided to stay for a foot massage. Matt was a little hesistant after his first experience of a massage but I persuaded him that this time would be less intrusive.

The ladies had swopped and the bandage had come off so both of us were a little more comfortable. Unfortunately, my lady was the manager of the place and now we were downstairs in the the reclining chairs next to the reception, she was a lot more distracted and kept stopping to deal with other things.
Nevertheless, the massage felt much more like the tension relief that I needed, especially when it was completed with a quick shoulder and head massage - and just one weird little crack of course.

As we walked back to the Metro, Matt was still not convinced about the massage as a whole but I felt a little better.  Although we both resolved to try again later but pay more cash next time. We had planned to see more of Bangkok's evening sights but were hungry and so decided to give the seedier side a miss and go to find the duck noodles we'd been told about. Despite a long search we didn't find them, but we did find our first genuine Thai curry so weren't too disappointed.

Just after we'd returned to the hotel, a girl turned up to check in. The hostel only had opening hours of 7am to 9pm and so there was no-one there to assign her a room or a key. We felt a bit awkward letting her in but since no-one was answering the phone number left on reception, we couldn't just leave her outside. We weren't sure she understood the problem because she kept looking at Matt like he was being difficult. Luckily, a girl from the female dorm, Lauren, was in the commom room chatting to Anderson (a guy from our dorm) and so she let her into the room.

I spent some time talking to Lauren after Matt and Anderson went to bed. She was really lovely and was very brave to be travelling on her own at 19. She's left her boyfriend behind and come to explore (mostly the beaches of) Cambodia and Thailand. She was interesting to talk to because she shared many of the ambitions I'd had at the same age but had perhaps done a little bit more about them.