On Thursday, Ferne and I flew to Bangkok by Jetstar (my first time on no-fuss budget air -not as painful as I imagined) and two hours later, we were greeted by a heat wave as we stepped into the crackling hot dusty air. With my printed map, the Thai-speaking driver found Baan Thai Wellness Retreat easily - a serene and lush oasis in the concrete heart of bustling Sukhumvit - and we seeked cool relief in our ancient teakwood royal 'baan' followed by a delightful five-course Thai spa cuisine meal.
The food was insane, the carved vegetables and fruits so pretty and hospitality as warm as the weather - it was perfect untill we had to step out for some retail therapy at the nearby Emporium. But all was fine again when we returned for our soul-soothing saunas and massages; all the knots smoothed away with every firm knead by the male masseurs. Ahh...
In the evening, we checked out the highly recommended Chong Nam in Silom and gobbled down the bubbling pot of Tom Yam Khun (prawns), deepfried cotton fish with mango salad and green curry over white rice. I was gasping by the time F insisted on the dessert of coconut jelly served in the husk. "It's f%cking good', she pleaded and I was convinced after the first spoonful, second, third and tenth...
At 10pm, it poured like a bitch and dampened our party mood which we were mastering up for Q Bar and Bed Supperclub. The flooded streets, our lost cab-driver and drowsy state made us give up the clubbing itinerary despite the promise of free drinks at Q. Back at Baan Thai, I discovered that my luggage was damp and our walk-in wardrobe leaking (a drawback of staying in a 75-year old teakhome) - I whined at no one and the 'exotic' Thai figures on the bathroom laughed back. Luckily we were promptly upgraded to a bigger room downstairs by the horrified, apologetic staff.
The next morning, we were as bright as the bougainvillas outside our poolside windows and met up with the lovely C who brought us on the arranged morning tour of the local wet markets. The vegs and fruits were shiny, catfishes jumping and wrestling in mud and the whiff of spices and fermented specialties pervaded our nostrils.
Fuelled by the frenzy of sights, sounds and smells, I went mad and bought the half kilo palm sugar, bottles of chilli pastes and dried chilli flakes, while trying to snap the cute 5-year-old granddaughter of the provision shop auntie. She was as slippery as the catfish and refused to be shot!
We then arrived at The Blue Elephant where we whipped up four Thai dishes (including a devilish red curry) in an hour and I talked shop with the hospitable Herve over a sumptuous lunch. The dishes kept coming and I could only recall a flurry of a platter of fried appetiser, salmon in sweet basil dressing, foie gras with tamarind sauce, pomelo salad, tom yam khun soup, heaps of steaming rice - in addition to our self-cooked four dishes! I begged H to stop and he merely grinned and ordered a platter of Thai desserts and chocolate souffle, which I couldn't resist and smiled 'oui' to.
With a full belly, we rushed back for our sauna, scrubs and Asian Blend massages (I was praying that I won't throw up) and soon lulled into a blissful state in the cool of the scented room. Everything was divine, except for the buzzing mosquito that bit me on my cheek. The masseur reacted swiftly with an accurate karate chop on my face and we all laughed when I went 'ouch'! Later we went to the Suanlom night market at Lumphini for a spot of grilled chicken and shopping till midnight.
The following morning, F and I settled into our 'organic' breakfast of miso soup, veg noodles, omelette and breads, after first knocking back a shot of warm apple vinegar (I only managed half, weak-arse!). Boy, did it kickstart our system - both of us were fighting for the toilet afterwards! 
After a delightful tour of the premises, we checked out of Baan Thai and into Shanghai Inn, a gorgeous new boutique hotel in the heart of Chinatown, which is marked by the hectic commerce (shark's fin, anyone?) and maddening traffic. The cab driver was once again lost much to our dismay and we found ourselves stuck in the choking heat and jam. I told F if we were in the Amazing Race, now would be the time when I'd strangle him and take over the wheels. 
Anyway we located the inn soon enough and it was chinoiserie chic through and through, from the lobby to the rooms. Imagine the looming bedframes, Chinese ink-painting wallpaper next to splashes of funky colours and paper lanterns. We oohed and ahhed at every detail till we heed the call for shopping at the Chatuchak weekend market!
We walked to the train station and popped into a cutesy air-conditioned cafe for lunch of Pad Thai and a glass noodle seafood salad. It wasn't what I expected but it was nonetheless lip-smackingly simple and gorgeous to look at. When we got to the market, it was madness in the thick of the heat as the weekenders built up and squeezed through the narrow corridors. But bargains found us easily and our bags were full in a matter of 3 hours.
In the evening after a good scrub-down, we strolled to this Chinese restaurant in Chinatown for their oh-so-good famous crab vermicelli in claypot. F ordered more than we should (golden rule 1 dish for 1 pax!) and we had to tah-pao the crustacean back (which we never ate for supper, pity). 
The restaurant was a hoot - so old-skool and quaint - like steppin back into the early 80s. The waitresses were clad in these loud purplish uniform and the manager so eager to please in his 70s gray jacket. Then I was happily sucking my crab claw when I saw this man peeing in the loo located next to the kitchen and almost choked! F nagged "see some more lah!" 
Later we hung out at the breath-taking Sirrocco Bar on top of the State Tower which overlooked the city twinkling in the dark horizon. As it was the eve of the elections, there was a ban on alcohol (oh freakin shit!) and we had to contend with our virgin mojitos and gourmet nuts (soothed by the hot towels - that's service for you!). The cute but slightly feminine bartender chatted us up and told us it was also a stupid idea to impose the ban. Oh well, we just had to get high on the 360-degree view.
The next day, we checked out Chinatown for lots of cheap buys ($1 earrings!) and our favourite stall of Thai iced coffee and tea before packing our bags for the airport. F was addicted to Milo, the sweet little pup at the stall and we patted its head and promised we'll be back soon! (P.S: in fact I found myself back in the capital from 2 - 4 June with my ALOFQs hardcore foodie gang)
