Twenty Hours Later...

...I have arrived, a little sleep deprived. It was a relief to be through Immigration and breathing the warm, sticky, night air of 2am Bangkok.

My immediate impression of Bangkok? Surprisingly (geographically) flat, with caverns of concrete car-park buildings and roads flanked by exceedingly tall lamp-posts. Obviously, I have yet to venture far from the car.

In front of the my apartment building is the W Market, where hundreds of abandoned plastic tables and chairs are surrounded by makeshift food stalls. There are dirty plates on all the tables, some still half-full of orange curry. Three security guards are loitering, along with a dopey black dog, and the scene looks like the remnants of a great, deserted feast; a strange welcome from the city that never sleeps.

I have a room to myself: tidy, clean, cool, with a crisp, white bed.

This photograph is of the rooftop.