Craig and I lived at the Golden Mountain on the outskirts of Chinatown. Despite living so close, our exploration was limited to a quick walk down to our favourite food stall of an evening for take away noodle gravy wrapped in butchers’ paper.
If I had of been on my own I would never have found my way out of the market maze to an eating place. The dragon’s luck remained with us in the shape of David Thompson, our expat local guide for the day.
He offered to show us the back roads of Chinatown, a place he loves to go to buy products for his own restaurants, to discover what lies in her hidden back alleyways and to come in the early hours of the evening for a feed at any one of the restaurants that never sleep.
The right place was one of his favourite Chinatown dishes, an oyster omelette. He leads us to an unassuming hole in the wall, Nai Mong Hoi Nang Tort at Talad Gao.
People have learned to live with the chaos and to make space for everyone in their lives. There is a rhythm of consideration and peace that people in Bangkok gently move through.
It is Sang Wat St, one of the oldest streets in Bangkok. Signs point to walking street and I wonder if that is where we came from, where we are going, or where we now are.
Down a small alley lies an ancient crumbling building; gnarled and knotted roots of trees ensnare it trying to lay reclaim the land that was once their own.