TAKEN to Khao San Road

July 13, 2013
Marisa and I were delirious as we walked away from immigration kiosks in Suvarnabhumi Airport and began hunting for a taxi to take us to our hotel in Bangkok. It was 3 o'clock in the morning and we had been traveling for over 22 hours.The Juke ride with Jorj from Edison to Newark airport seemed like days ago. The immigration line took over an hour to get through and everything was very new and confusing. 
We got a small taste of culture shock as being the only 2 Americans on an airplane filled with Asian people. During our layover in Shanghai, China, we spent 35 Yen on 2 cups of coffee and definitely got the vibe that the barista working there hated American tourists just like the China Eastern Airlines flight attendants we had just experienced. We estimated that 35 Yen converts to about $18, and after having a difficult time attempting to place our order to the woman, we almost aborted Mission: Get Caffeine. The $9 cup of coffee was delicious. (We were totally wrong about the conversion, we'd find out later. The coffees totaled $5.75. Ha ha.) 
We headed toward what we hoped were exit signs to flag a taxi diver. However, instead of us doing the flagging, a young Thai woman in a business suit flashed her badge as she flagged us down, asking, "Do you need a taxi? I work for the airport." She read our reservation confirmation for the Rikka Inn and in what seemed like 3 seconds, we had agreed to her price and were tossing our 45L backpacks into the trunk of her unmarked, white Toyota while exchanging skeptical glances. 
The scent of incense inside her very clean car was as powerful as the fear growing inside of us. We had an overwhelming feeling that we had made a very bad decision. To make matters worse, our driver who may either work for the airport for the sex trade made a phone call as soon as she got in the driver's seat. Instantly, I recalled the Paris airport scene from the movie Taken where the 2 dumb American girls agree to share a taxi with a cute French boy. He made a phone call to the Albanians and I was convinced that she was placing a call to the Albanians who run the Thai sex trade. I also wondered how my father, who has never been out of the US, would come and rescue Kimmy, I mean Marisa and I. 
As the woman spoke in Thai, I tried to think of a way to tell Marisa how I was feeling about this 45 minute cab ride without letting our driver hear us. Until I thought to use the Notes App on my iPhone, we had only been communicating through apprehensive expressions. 

K: Do you think we are being sold into the sex trade?

M: Too soon to say. But i can easily choke this bitch

K: She may have ninja skills. Watch your hair. My samurai sword is under my seat. I've got your back.

M: No company on car is a bit disheartening


At this point, Marisa was showering our driver with questions. We realized her English was not very good. Our initial panic decreased but was definitely still present.

M: Well this is going swimmingly

K: 35 min to go...this scent is very strong

M: Jesus Christ I know.

K: Meant to calm us down...maybe. "We'll meet people ..." 

M: Dude no ideA

K: Should we say we are hungry? To stop and leave us at a Burger King or something and then let them call a cab?

M: Is that what you want to do?

K: How do you feel? If we survive this...I may throw up and shit myself at the same time. Actually, I feel that way right now. No more unmarked cars for us.

M: Yeah. It was a rash decision. My fault.

K: No way...I agreed


It turned out that our driver used her own car to transport people to and from the airport as a second job, hence the Hello Kitty sitting on her dashboard. Forty minutes and 800 baht later, we arrived at one end of Khao San Road at 4am at the peak of the debauchery. 
Four o'clock in the morning in the "Backpacker Ghetto" of Bangkok felt like we arrived late to a party and were the only sober people there. Khao San Road was hot, loud, stinky, and filled with backpackers, vendors, tuk-tuks, taxis, and random people. Our driver, we never called the Albanians, told us that the Rikka Inn was a five-minute walk down the road. However, after 5 minutes, we arrived at the opposite end of the road and had no idea who to ask for help. There weren't any police officers and I didn't give myself enough time to learn how to ask for directions in Thai. We cautiously gripped our backpacks and "frontpacks" and made sure we observed our surroundings carefully, I felt like I was drowning in the chaos. We backtracked to continue our hotel search after consulting 2 intoxicated and very unhelpful English guys. Marisa approached a cute little lady behind a fruit stand and asked for help. She pointed to a woman on a moped who guided us in the right direction. Phew! 
With our moped escort, I finally spotted the rectangular, white sign displaying Rikka Inn. We continued to avoid street vendors and drunks until we reached the entrance. 
After over 24 hours of traveling, much confusion, unidentifiable Asian airplane food, a potential sex trade encounter cab ride, and the chaos that is Khao San Road, we finally unlocked the door to our room on the 4th floor. I dropped my pack, threw myself onto the bed, and let out a long sigh of relief because we didn't get taken and thought, we are in Thailand! 


Khao San Road Video Clip