Bangkok

I finally made it to Bangkok. I am so happy to have left that nightmare place - Patayaia. I'm at the Apple Guest house, down a narrow alley, near the river on one side and near the night market on the other. Apple is run by the wonderful Mamma, a little thai woman, who walks slowly on arthritic legs. Mamma shies away from publicity. Her guest house is not in the lonely planet or the rough guide.

A room with a bed and a fan and a flimsy lock on the door, with a lovely polished teak floor, sets you back 180 Baht (about £2). Paper thin walls separate the rooms. A steep teak staircase leads down to the ground floor, where Mamma appears to live, amongst washing machine, wardrobe, beds, TV and assorted junk. Toilets and showers are downstairs too. Some of the motley collection of guests sometimes sit with Mamma and pinch the remote control from her and try to find channels in European languages. She doesn't seem to mind. However she definitely doesn't allow anyone to wear their shoes indoors, or to smoke in the house. Mamma commands respect.

A couple of rickety benches outside provide a socialising area. Mamma provides cold beer for 55 Baht per bottle. The socialising goes on until late at night. Our rooms are far too hot to sleep in until past midnight.

Everyone goes to the night market to eat. This  is just a narrow street, with bright lights, food stalls on one side and bars playing loud music on the other.