I love Bangkok. I even love arriving here, slipping into the languorous heat of this fabulous city. Food, traffic, sex, pollution: this town has it all. Far from the austere majesty of Beijing, the befuddling hubbub of Hanoi, the dilemma that is Delhi, Bangkok screams and teems.
All pinks and neons, there is nothing half-baked about Bangkok. Pouting, flouting, leering, sneering, Bangkok is the Lady Gaga of Asia.
Thai food is like condensed milk: I cannot even imagine the amount of self loathing required to not absolutely love it. And Bangkok is hands down the world's greatest city for street food. It simply doesn't get better than this. I've never had a bad meal here, and its street food is the foundation of Thai culinary culture.
In fact, twice I have been here and only eaten street side, it's that good. Everywhere, everyday everyone chows down on cheap, great grub. In a few short chilli addled days, I quaffed sweet sausage soup with salted egg and rice noodles, sugar stoked Thai iced coffee with espresso, evaporated milk, sugar, sugar and then sugar when once I asked to "hold the sugar," I got a look that conveyed concern at my sanity , fresh squeezed fresh juice made from giddily sweet tiny green oranges, Chiang Mai sausage, som tum-Thailand's eponymous green papaya salad made to order in a big wooden mortar, green coconut juice, spicy fried chicken, jackfruit smoothie, searingly hot noodle dishes, sparkling salads of pork skin and morning glory, fried crab and green mango.
It's a rollercoaster of counterpoints: hot, cold, smooth, crunchy, sweet, sour, up, down that at times has you gasping, but always happy. Countless satays, noodle salads, fresh cut mangoes, guavas, papayas juicily displayed in glass cases on wheels, and more and more and more that you grab and graze as you go.
