THE BANGKOK BIKE HEIST / LOST IN BANG KRACHAO

Flowers and leaves from Pak Khlong Talat adorn the songthaews with one reported casualty two nights after the welcome committee treated the distinguished delegates from Bosnia, the United Kingdom, Australia and South Africa to an overdose of Singha beer and grilled ruby fish. 

And that day stood out from a week of learning and unlearning, the ennui disruption that was punctuated by the sound of frying spring rolls, the silence of soap carvers and the colors of a lunch buffet that is not from kitchen of Albricias. 

On the last day of the second workshop, the 5th round of Covid detection tests came out negative to assure the delegation of the Philippines that the Bangkok surge has not caught up with neither of them, the end of quarantine and a trip to Uganda celebrated with a round of cold Chang beer with a footnote to those who have to leave.   

The Bangkok Bike Heist

But shit happened when Follow Me Bangkok Tours stole my Saturday bike ride that marooned me in the concrete jungle of Yaowarat where I search for the lost Half-Day Siam Boran Cultural Bike Tour in the pots and grills of street food stalls, in the disinfected water closet of Wat Worahiwan and the polished yard of Leng Buai Ia Shrine as free rice was being distributed, wondering if it is among the merchandise on sale at the crowded Chinese Market along Soi Yaowarat 11.

The futile search led me to Siam Paragon for an early lunch of crispy pork and Northern Thai sausage where a mysthical tea leaf pointed to Silom, to a stainless table top and plastic chair at the Kuay Teow Khae Convent where a fortune cookie at the bottom of its famous tom yum noodle jumbo said that redemption is at Som Tam Jay So's equally famous chicken wings and there, the Master of Salad told me to walk straight to the Chong Nonsi Skywalk then go home since Trip Advisor will be refunding the cost of the lost bike tour.

Lost in Bang Krachao

Sunday brought me to the Wat Bang Krachao Nok Pier, to a small boat with two other passengers that took us across the mighty Chao Phraya River to Bang Krachao where the tree spirits made me walk in circles and a mobile phone translated Thai into English that a biking couple said were actually prayers for the lost, and was subsequently delivered by a motorcycle taxi to an abandoned fresh seafood market where I was introduced to Bike No. 16, petite with slim wheels but sturdy enough for a long ride to the Wat Khan Lat School where the Bhumibol 2 Bridge pierce the heavens that for centuries have kept the Lat Pho Canal operational.

The island of course is is not really an island as well as the Bang Nam Pheung Floating Market that don't actually float like the barges moored at the Tha Luean Pier where I should have landed, but the cannabis nursery was real as well as the motorcycle taxi who got lost bringing me back to where I came, in the pier where I was the lone passenger of a small boat that rammed and raced a huge river barge before delivering me to the other side --- tired, sweaty, suburned and blissfully sore...