Thailand: The Land of Smiles, Part 1

It was almost midnight, and I was tired, cranky, and lost!!! Exiting the subway after leaving the night market, I had no idea which direction I was or should have been heading. Turning left instead of turning right, my sense of direction blurred and cloudy due to sheer exhaustion, I walked into what looked like the Red Light District almost bumping into and tripping on the high stilletto heels of sexily dressed Thai prostitutes. A sweet smelling young Thai girl passed by laughing demurely, walking arm-in-arm with her much older, Caucasian escort. WHERE THE @*&% IS THE DAMN HOTEL!!!! My body, which was practically ready to collapse at this point, screamed in both agony and frustration. Images of my soft warm bed, the covers turned back, beckoning me like a sensuous lover calling out to his mistress, filled my sleep deprived brain.

Nearing a complete meltdown, I was desperate and prepared to hail the next taxi or Tuk-Tuk driver that I saw, when I stumbled upon a 24 hour service station. In a lame attempt to try and describe the location of the hotel (I'd foolishly left the hotel address and phone number on my dresser), the attendant, not knowing or understanding where I wanted to go, asked a customer with a motorbike, who was pumping gas next to us, if he would take me. Unsure of where I wanted to go as well... neither one of us speaking the other's language very well... I jumped on back of the motorbike throwing years of the warning: NEVER ACCEPT RIDES FROM STRANGERS, and caution to the wind.

Squeezing the Thai driver's waist tightly (Thais are very small boned). I cringed as he squealed out in pain. It seems as though my souvenir bags, which I'd purchased earlier that evening, were pressing uncomfortably against his family jewels. Embarrassed and apologizing profusely, I lifted the small packages high enough so as not to cause any more discomfort. It was imperative that this guy devote his full concentration on driving; any unnecessary distractions could prove to be fatal for the both of us.

Before I could catch my breath, the little motorbike shot off, like an amusement park roller coaster ride, into a cacophony of headlights and exhaust fumes. Weaving in and out of traffic, like a hungry mouse charging relentlessly through a maze in search of a moldy piece of cheese, we raced in and around moving cars that appeared to have no sense of direction, and absolutely NO desire to slow down - until the minute before you were sure your legs were going to be crushed. The wind blowing in my hair (I had no helmet to protect my skull) and blinded by painfully bright red and yellow headlights, I was amazed at my new found ability to pray in languages that I'd never even heard of, and ones that I had heard of, but never possessed the ability to speak - until now....

To be continued...