59 hours in Bangkok

An English map is not very helpful in Thailand.

After walking for 35 or 45 minutes along Ayutthaya Road, I began to realize that the last five people I had asked for directions had no idea what I was saying.

I could not find where I was on the map. The heat beat down. My stomach growled with hunger.

A motorcycle pulled up and a man yelled over to me. I showed him my map.

At that point I realized: Most Thai people can't read roman characters.

He said to me, "No money." He pointed to himself and the road. I backed away. I was terrified.

Me? Ride on the back of a motorcycle? No way.

But I had no other choice. I tucked my ankle length skirt between my legs and jumped on the back, holding on for dear life.

He took me to some police officers who informed me that the nearest station was about 4 km away.

For $130 Baht he offered to take me to my destination, the weekend market at Mo Chit.

I had no other choice. I was exhausted. He promised to go slow. Slower than the other vehicles, but still relatively fast.

Temples, houses, businesses and canals blew by as I held on for dear life.

When I arrived in Mo Chit, my hair was a mess, my heart was no longer racing and my knuckles were still white.

I put a hand to my chest and took a deep breath. The motorcycle driver laughed, and laughed until he disappeared back into Bangkok's traffic.