Even buzzing Bangkok feels flat when the spark is missing
If you follow this column with some degree of commitment you’ll know that I have a pretty set travel circuit. While some cities come and go (not so much Los Angeles, New York or Singapore these days), the current cities that see the most touchdowns for work are Paris, Geneva, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Hong Kong, Tokyo and my current perch: Bangkok. In each city there’s an established drill – the hotel and regular room, the morning trot route, the café, the restaurant for team dinners, the quieter joint for something more clandestine, the shave place, the shops for wardrobe improvement and the essential book and mag stores. Each city also has its social scene, where friendships range from the somewhat work-related to the long established and also the occasional walk-on appearances from people who are (how do I say this?) more from the after-hours orbit.
Off the back of our Shanghai event earlier in the week (see Andrew’s column yesterday) and a special talk session for Chanel in Hong Kong on Thursday evening, it was on to Bangkok bright and sharp Friday morning. It’s unusual to have a few free days when out on the road so I decided that I would do a spa-meets-clinic long weekend. But when I started digging into the programme I realised that, due to my short stay, I couldn’t adapt to the offering and so I decided that singing bowls and herbal essence therapy wasn’t going to be quite my jam. Instead I opted for my Grand Hyatt default set-up.
Despite the public holidays on either side of the weekend, Bangkok feels oddly quiet. There are plenty of people around, hotels seem full but it somehow feels empty. On Friday eve I went out with some friends from Taipei and though bars and lounges were full, it all felt a bit flat. The company was entertaining, the drinks flowed but everything was somehow dull. Was it me? Shanghai was full-tilt and I was with 15 colleagues for a compressed 72 hours, so maybe I was feeling a bit out of sorts. I carried on till we decided to call it quits but I woke up feeling the same today. I slept well, the sun was shining and as the day started to cool I pulled on my trainers, shorts and a tee and walked down to Lumphini Park to join the thousands doing their evening fitness routines (catch Colin Nagy’s story on the park from earlier in the week), walking their dogs or partaking in lizard photography. The steamy eve, noisy birds and array of running gear and footwork improved my mood immediately. Did you know that there is a Thai tiptoe technique for keeping a smooth pace? I saw a couple of guys employing this style of running, which is a mix of gentle glide meets pony prance. Best to try it at home first if you’re considering a fresh gait. I also did a bit of market analysis and there is no question that Adidas and Asics are out front among Bangkok’s running crowd. Hoka and On are still around but they don’t seem to have nearly the market share as the German and Japanese brands.
After two circuits I exited the park, made a right onto Lang Suan, and as I passed the entrance to Sindhorn Village my mood returned and I realised what had been bothering me. I was missing Gwen Robinson and Sindhorn was the last place that I saw her before she died. It was also in that moment that I realised it has been just over a year since our correspondent Gwen left our pages and airwaves after nearly two decades of contributing to Monocle. In an earlier time and if Gwen had been here, my free weekend would have been rather different. She would have had three embassy receptions to go to, a pair of book launches to attend and then she’d suggest drinks somewhere not too far from her digs. We’d talk for hours about the world of journalism, the state of Thailand, hacks that she didn’t rate and all kinds of story and business ideas.
Indeed, I wouldn’t be writing this column so late on a Saturday (Thai time) as Gwen would have already allowed me to coax her to a Japanese bar that she deemed too far but would adore it once she got there. For such a thriving, dynamic city, it’s striking how one individual can take so much with them. I miss you Gwen. We all miss you very much. Big Bangkok isn’t the same without your spritzers, theories and rasp.
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