Fully exploiting the public holiday in Hong Kong, off I book a flight to Bangkok…only to find out it’s the rain season. But it doesn’t dampen our spirit. With two umbrellas packed, it won’t be much of a problem.

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The morning of the first day is cloudy but dry, and we take a taxi towards Wat Pho and find a fast food place for our brunch. It’s too late when we realise that we left our umbrellas back in the hotel by the time it starts pouring down with rain during our meal.

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We walk one way in rain, hoping there’d be a store selling umbrellas, but the street doesn’t seem to have such shops. So we walk back, remembering it was a bit busier than this one.

The rain doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter, so I take shelter under a small canopy of a street vendor while my friend goes into the market to find an umbrella.

10 minutes? 15 minutes? I don’t know how long I stood there waiting. Bound by the rain, I have nothing else to do but to people watch.

The locals seem to be used to this kind of weather. The sellers have swiftly and deftly covered their stalls with canvas sheets, and the motorbike riders are wearing baggy raincoats made out of thin plastic sheets.

The sky is grey, thick and heavy , but it doesn’t make Bangkok grim one little bit. It’s a city full of colours – taxis are fuchsia pink, tuk-tuks green, and buses orange and red.

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Eventually my friend returns, but with an empty hand. By now our hair’s wet and shoes are soggy.

“Should we just take a taxi to Wat Pho?” We discuss as we turn off the road from the corner I had been standing. And there it is, an entrance to a big retro department store. And yes, they sold umbrellas.

1 October 2015, Thailand

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