I woke up late again and packed, then wandered over to the Silk Bar for breakfast. I spent most of the morning there, ordering fruit shakes and catching up on my journal, then I went to see my old stomping ground at the Viengtai Hotel. Stopped at the massage parlour for a second Thai massage, this time even more enthusiastically delivered, and then set about wandering through the city.

My first encounter was with the Democracy Monument. Like the Victory Monument, it’s in the middle of an inaccessible roundabout, but strikingly impressive. Its construction began in 1939 to commemorate the 1932 revolution that brought an end to the absolute power of the monarchy and introduced Siam’s first constitution. Each of the four wings are 24 metres high, which apparently signifies the 24th of June – the date of the signing of the Constitution. The location of the monument, between the old Grand Palace and the Dusit Palace, is also significant. A copy of the original constitution is held in central pedestal. On reflection, it seemed to me that had the document been delayed by a week, and signed on the first of July, the monument would have been much less impressive, at only 1 metre tall.

I continued down the main road, and came to a fort on the banks of one of Bangkok’s main canals. The open spaces in the city centre are well kept and this was no exception, a magnificent celegration of Thai architecture and a serene place to take a few minutes out from the chaotic pace of the city. Unfortunately the heat and pollution are both inescapable, but the bright colours and perfect presentation project an air of calm and control that restores a sense of self.

I had a map out, and a man approached me. I’ve learned that in Asia, if you have a map out, you might as well be wearing a t-shirt that says “sucker” on the back. They start out asking you where you’re going and generally seeming as though they are simply a helpful local wanting to ensure you have a good time in their city, but eventually the conversation always ends up with them suggesting a ‘really good place’ where you can get gemstones. Then they offer to take you there personally.

This chap really was laying it on a bit thick. He was a schoolteacher, apparently, waiting for his friend to arrive (and therefore, obviously, able to help me out in the meantime). He talked about the upcoming election, Thai history (about which he did seem to know quite a lot) and the best bus to take to get to the airport. To his credit it took him a full ten minutes to start telling me about this excellent place called the ‘Export Centre’. Now come on, if you want to trick tourists into thinking you’re not selling them cheap tat surely you can do a lot better than calling your shop ‘Export Centre’. Anyway, I wasn’t having any of it.

“Right, well that’s very useful, but I’m just out for a stroll”
“I show you?”
“No, as I said, I’m just walking”
“Why not?”
“Not. Interested. Goodbye”
“Is very stupid!!”
“Goodbye. I hope you manage to meet up with your friend”
“Stupid Stupid Stupid”

So I guess I didn’t make much of an impression there. I made a right turn at the fort and headed for the river. Election posters were all over the place – I had no idea who any of the candidates were, but it didn’t seem to matter as everyone expected the current prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra, to win another term.

This is all well and good, except that by all accounts he’s not quite on the level. Fairly new in politics, Thaksin’s story included an American education, a stint in the Police, and later the chairmanship of a very successful group of technology companies, one of which is now Thailand’s largest mobile phone operator. It was only in 1994 that he entered politics for the first time, as foreign minister in the Palang Dharma Party, which he promised to clear of scandal and corruption. He was briefly Deputy Prime Minister and then head of the PDP, but in 1997 the party collapsed.

Not one to give up, he then formed his own Thai Rak Thai (“Thais Love Thais”) party and launched an election campaign, again based on cleaning up corruption, with a raft of deliberately populist policies. It seems to have worked.

Like Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi, Thaksin has a clear conflict of interest between his role as Prime Minister and his businesses, and in 2001 he was almost convicted for financial irregularities. He continues to be unashamedly populist, with policies including the village loan scheme, in which he simply doled out a huge low-interest loan to every small village in the country. He even changed the law in order to allow easyJet-style low cost airlines to exist, and then started one.

Business aside, Thaksin cannot claim to be much of a humanitarian either. In a war on drugs, failure was not an option, and real justice expensive, so Thaksin is alleged to have been responsible for a policy of killing hundreds of suspected drug dealers without letting them near a courtroom. And for all that, the Thai people love him. Their villages are flush with cheap loans, they can fly anywhere in the country for a few hundred baht, and the country is practically drug-free. So this election is what you might call a racing certainty.

The road cut a straight line through the city to the south. The buildings were an eclectic mix of new and old, in a patchwork of different styles. Every street corner was chocabloc with stalls selling soft drinks, fake designer clothing, and food. Power cables hung everywhere, the hallmark of a nation impatient for the benefits of development.

When I reached the river, I tried to find the pier for the riverbus. It wasn’t immediately obvious, and I decided to walk up to the next one. I sauntered through the docks, where crates of all kinds of fruits and vegetables were being hauled all over the place. The pathway between produce sheds was crowded and busy with traders and workers, all heavily laden. A kid of maybe fifteen or so squeezed through a gap between a trolley stacked high with wicker baskets of fruit and a pile of grain sacks, his own motorbike holding a precariously balanced block of solid ice. People were shouting at each other across the mayhem, trading chillies and coconuts. I slowly picked my way through, and tried not to get in anyone’s way, which was impossible.

I found the public pier and waited for the bus. 6 baht to go across the city to the Banglampu district, about 10 pence, which is a relief from the expense of taking tuk tuks everywhere – once the novelty wears off they’re just dirty, expensive taxis. The river is a busy place, with long tail boats zipping around all over, and the ferries working their way up and down in a continuous stream. Views of the grand palace and Wat Arun make the trip worthwhile in itself, but it’s also a chance to get some fresh air, a decent breeze, and is a very fast and efficient way to get across town.

Back in Banglampu, I walked back to Khao San, with the help of some directions from a passer-by, who told me where to go and then said he knew of a great place where I could get very cheap jewels to take home. Good god – they have the entire population on commission.

Having picked up my bag, I waited for the airport bus, trying to avoid the afternoon sun which was absolutely sweltering even at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. But as soon as the bus arrived, it was to be air conditioned bliss all the way to Penang, Malaysia.

On the flight, which was not a long one (Penang is about a thousand miles south of Bangkok, off the North West coast of peninsular Malaysia), I noticed that the Thai Airways in-flight magazine was having quite a feature on Queen Sikrit’s birthday. It was an important one, the completion of her 6th cycle (Buddhists measure age in cycles of a fixed number of years, 12 I think), and after going through the magazine, I realised that virtually the entire edition was dedicated to coverage of the event. Even the adverts, which were all full page spreads bought by Thailand’s largest corporations, existed only to wish the Queen a happy birthday. Remarkable loyalty compared to our own Queen, and Queen Sikrit isn’t even the monarch (her husband is the King). Mind you, our Queen does have two birthdays a year, so maybe she’s milked it a bit much and everyone’s gone off celebrating them.

At the end of the flight a beaming flight attendant gave me a perfect orchid flower, which was lovely, except they gave one to everyone on board, which was probably one of the most pointless perks of flying on a national airline I’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t get this sort of thing on Air Asia, though I have a feeling that Prime Minister Thaksin has his fingers in the Thai Airways pie as well.

Arriving in Penang, I was taking a bit of a step up in class – I was now on the Gecko tour, and so I had a hotel pre-booked. The following morning, I would meet my tour leader, and the rest of the group.