To Thai For

It's 5 a.m. A part of me regrets staying out with Sam and Kelly until nearly midnight the previous evening. I curl up into the most uncomfortable and unnatural position humanly possible and manage to doze until the loudspeaker announces it's time to disembark.
I take the express bus downtown and hop onto the Canada Line, like I've done so many times before, but today is different. Today Arielle and I begin our Thailand adventure.
I stop at Timmy's for fuel; my phone lights up with Arielle's name. She says she can't see Tim's. My sleep deprived brain eventually realizes that I'm down at arrivals and she's upstairs at departures. I hurry up the flight of stairs and see her looking around the food court. I run up and scoop her into the biggest bear hug that we can manage, backpacks and all.

We move through security without much trouble and eventually board our 15 hour flight to Hong Kong. We're pleased to see it's a fairly new aircraft with a decent amount of leg room. The food isn't terrible and the alcohol is complimentary. We chat a little with the man sitting next to us, he and his friend are also on their way to Thailand. He was born in Africa, but grew up in the UK, before eventually moving to (and falling in love with) Vancouver. He comments how much he enjoys, and I quote: the laid back slow pace of Vancouver. Arielle and I are both fairly flabbergasted by this statement.

It's about 10 hours into the flight and my eyes are getting heavy. I gently recline my chair and manage to catch a few Zs. Not long after I'm rudely awoken when the window shade behind me is abruptly opened, spilling bright light directly onto my face. I can't help but notice the lady behind me has extended her legs and is now resting her gnarly old feet on my arm rest.
Then, the kicking starts. At first, it's light. Then it becomes harder and harder. It's almost as if she's trying to wake me. But, that's be crazy, right?
I swear she's saying "Up, up up!"
I move my chair upright, rub my eyes and try to think rationally. This conspiracy to disrupt me must be in my head. I slowly start to recline again and she kicks my chair, harder than ever.
"NO! Up! Up! Please!"
I snap my head around to face her. "I need to sleep too!" I yell, terribly aware of how unhinged I sound. She stares at my blankly. There's an apparent language barrier.
I don't know what her problem is, this chick is shorter than I am. Arielle is resting peacefully, reclined in front of the woman's tall husband, who is not acting like a petulant child.
I sit up again and mutter several curse words. This 80 year old woman is now my sworn enemy. My blood is boiling. It's very apparent that this lady will never let up. So I lay my head awkwardly against the window and try to calm down. A few rows up, a baby starts crying. It lets out a long mournful wail. It echoes my sentiments exactly.
I give up on ever feeling rested again and start watching the utterly abysmal The Spy Who Dumped Me.
Finally, after what seems like a literal lifetime, we disembark in Hong Kong. The air is heavy with smog, it's like the worst forest fire day in BC, times one hundred.
My period has decided to show up and the situation is dire. I buy the most expensive box of tampons of my life and also stop for snacks (obviously). The cashier talks us into buying even more junk food, "It's two for one." You don't need to ask me twice.

We reach our gate to transfer to Bangkok, but are surprised to see it's an open door leading to a bus. We climb in, sardine style, and start chatting with a guy from the mainland. He asks us where we're from. Arielle says Victoria and I say Nanaimo.
"Same thing," he tells me.
Sure. Just like Richmond and Chilliwack are the same thing, right?
He's just come back from two months in Europe, he's obviously a pro. He happily begins mansplaining all things travel. We get onto the plane and of course he's sitting next to us. I put on a pod cast and then immediately pass out to it. I wake up in time for snacks, which appears to be a giant pig-in-a-blanket, but is not tasty at all. It needs ketchup. I shock myself by not eating it.

When we land, our gracious and wise seat mate tries to convince us to have a drink with him before he catches his bus. We politely decline. I'm so exhausted I think I'm starting to hallucinate.

We scoot through customs and step out into the humid air. I spot a filtered water station and rush to it. The instructions are in Thai, so I hit a button and hope for the best. Boiling water pours out, the last temperature I want in my life right now. A passerby tells me to try the middle button. It's lukewarm this time, an improvement.

We wander out in the direction of the cab queue and take a number. Our driver pulls up to our assigned bay and we hop in. As I'd been warned previously, he refuses to run the metre, but the price he gives is only $2 more than what the hotel had told Arielle to expect. She turns to me "I'm too tired to split hairs over a couple bucks" and I couldn't agree more.

We fly down the highway, passing billboards a hundred times the size of the ones we see here. Some simply say "Long Live His Majesty the King!" others warn tourists not to get Buddha tattoos.

We arrive at the Hotel Icon and check-in. Someone hands me a boozy purple drink that I down in one gulp.

We get up to our room and finally the moment we've been waiting for for two days. We crawl into bed and sleep.