Sander did not fit in the night train because he is a giant, and I will confess, his eternal struggle with Thai architecture is a source of great amusement for me. But as he aptly mentioned, we did manage to make it out of Bangkok. In a tuk-tuk, the infamous 3-wheeled speed cart of death, we wove between lanes and trucks, tore up corners at top speed, and landed a few sweet jumps. If I was cooler, and could have released my knuckles from the side rail they were imbedded in, I would have high-fived one of the many pedestrians we almost killed. Failing that, I laughed uncontrollably at our driver who would excellerate and then come to a dead stop, only to run his lady-boy hands through what he must consider his glorious mane. Yeah: it's messy. You have no windows. Finger comb, fluff, drive towards death. Repeat.
I might just miss Bangkok now that we're gone.
Who am I kidding. Does anyone have a clean pair of shorts?
Slaughter.
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