Jack and Jesus

I'm back on Khao San Rd in Bangkok, the street where every copy CD store plays Jack Johnson all day and all the foreigners look like Jesus. I've been spending my days with Kieran and Virta (Spanish girl) and a few other Irish lads, one of whom was wearing Celtic sleeves the night we first met and thus inevitably became my best mate. This place is crazy. It is its own little world, so far removed from the rest of Thailand (well at least what I have seen of the country so far) that it doesn't even feel like Asia, but rather a distopian land of drunken Swedes, Brits and Aussies who desperately need showers. I had no intentions of staying here again after my first experience of a sleepless night due to non-stop techno beats, yet the overnight bus from Chiang Mai dropped us off here and the street kind of just sucked us in. At least the place I'm staying at now is next to a reggae club and so I am kept awake by my favourite music rather than the type that one needs to be smashed to appreciate.

Anyhow, I am off to Europe tomorrow. I'm both happy and sad about that; happy because I love being on the road and am excited to explore a part of the world that I haven't seen since I was a wee one, but sad because I adore this part of the world. At least I can rest in knowing that I'll be back in a few months time.