I reckon I’m one of relatively few people who has heard (or at least noticed) Brian Eno’s ambient, avante garde experiment ‘Music for Airports’, in an airport. The airport in question was Bangkok airport, at the end of my first ‘big trip’ to Asia, 9 years ago. As I pushed my way through the vaulted, 70’s styled, cathedral-like spaces swarming with global business commuters and Hong Kong jet-set, a wide-eyed 21 year-old, disorientated and still drunk from the night before, I became aware of some faint, galactic orchestral sounds ebbing and flowing into the cavernous halls like a rogue transmission from another dimension. Everyone around me seemed so oblivious to it that for a while I began to worry the noises were coming from inside my head. I was close to stopping someone and saying “Excuse me, Can you hear that ?” but a bit frightened of them saying no.

I didn’t learn the name of the album until years later and whenever I hear it now - pure, sonorous notes in some strange organic pattern, like chimes colliding in deep space, set against vast, minimal soundscapes that build and diffuse like sunspots - I remember how ’sci-fi’ the great departure halls felt. A complete contrast to the frantic, colourful chaos of Asia just outside.

I’ve always assumed the choice of music was an accident. The sort of cultural mistranslation that is sadly dying out in the age of information. I like to think of a straight-backed Thai airport official on a business trip, killing time at at the Heathrow ‘Our Price’. I see him picking up the CD box and sounding out the words to himself - “Myu-sic faw aya-ports” - before the penny drops and he rushes proudly off to the counter.

Touching down 9 years later at Bangkok’s new Suvarnabhumi airport - a futurist Thai temple of industrial steel, glass and tensile fabric - I was made instantly aware of how much Thailand had moved on. I floated above the city on a slick airport bus as it banked and weaved between glittering highrises like an urban rollercoaster along 2 and 3 tier expressways. The foundations for some of these enormous concrete spines were being laid 9 years ago as I sat choking in a gridlocked sea of tuk-tuks, old cars and overloaded trucks. The flyovers that were finished had whole communities living under them. The tuk-tuks are almost all gone now. Instead, squadrons of sporty new Toyota taxis with split colour paint jobs race around the multi-level streets like a playstation driving game. And the tarmac no longer wears thin at the edge of Bangkok; a monster 6 lane highway (politically entitled ‘the Beijing-Singapore expressway’) connects it to the North and flows comfortably with an almost entirely new fleet of Japanese cars and show-off pick-up trucks of American SUV proporttions. Personal debt, my cousin tells me, rivals that of even the UK.  

I don’t know whether it’s a general concensus but I would find it difficult to now call Thailand a ‘developing country’ perhaps with the exception of the poor North East where I’ve never been. Modern Thailand feels confident, organised and highly consummerist with one foot firmly planted in Japan and the other in America. Not the ‘Land of Smiles’ I remember … but then the iscessant smiling always did strike me as a bit unnatural.

The next day I went to the main bus terminal to make my way North to my cousin’s place in Phitsanoulok. It was a few days before Thai New Year and an exodus was in full swing as Bangkok’s workforce deserted the capital to spend the holidays with their families in the provinces. More importantly, New year coincides with the Songkhran water throwing festival, which is about the most fun you could hope to have in the height of an Asian summer. It was also mine, Iain Scrimigeor and the Buddha’s Birthday - but they seemed to be less well publicised.

I’ve sat in more than a few bus and train stations in my time and would say it’s a fairly reliable way of seeing a large cross-section of society in one place. I’d expected to find that the consumer riches I’d seen so far were in the hands of the Bangkok middle-class but as I waited, seated in front of an HD plasma screen, eating a sandwich from 7-11, I couldn’t see a single toothless old man or a family with all their worldly possessions neatly bound up in sacks; a standard sight across Asia. Instead what I saw was Thai individualism and plenty of disposable income - Kids with punky Japanese haircuts fiddled with mobiles and mp3 players fiegning moodyness, couples smooched, shared take-away iced coffees and picked at sweets, families argued over where to sit, what to buy for the journey … Everybody had on branded clothing but not derivative Western fashions - you won’t catch a Bangkok teenager with some generic ‘Sports USA’ t-shirt. Though many of the brands are ours, they have a well-developed understanding of Thai fashion and style.

It’s amazing how only this surface layer of global products and services can take so much of the foreign-ness out of visiting a country. Desipite still not knowing much about Thai culture, they now use more codified global language I’m led to think I understand. Familiar fashion statements divide people into familiar social groups, familiar shops sell familiar goods and function predictably. Phones, magazines, ticket machines … they’re all a little different but on a fundamental level, familiar and unthreatening. Not that I’m a fan of Tarantino Philosophy, but remember his Pulp Fictional wisdom about Europe’s “little differences” ? Well, you know the BK here doesn’t have ‘Royale with cheese’ …

Obviously Thai culture is alive and well and still as wild and incomprehensible as ever, but I reckon Globalisation does rob us of the ’sights and sounds’ level of foreign-ness that pretty much defines a short holiday to a place. Thankfully I’m on a long trip and while sounding like I’m lamenting the past a bit here, my attitude to each country I’ve visited is to look at 2007 - a brand new country very few explorers have ever been or written about ! Thailand, more than anywhere, has the most to be happy about. When I think back now to India’s dusty, crowded, non-consumer streets and the people of all ages and backgrounds who confidently assured me “We are going to be the next big superpower” it seems so naieve.

Phitsanoulok is a fair sized commercial town, the capital of it’s province but not famed for anything in particular and with little to attract tourists other than a particularly shiny Buddha. Comparible perhaps to Perth (Scotland) where Al used to live. I liked it. And it was interesting to get to know an ordinary Thai town - something I’m always feeling I should do in every country. Al is teaching English in a local school with a handful of other native speakers. Of the 10 or so non-teachers who live there most are retired or work overseas in the oil industry and have settled here with their Thai wives. I met them all at the expat bar and like at all such outposts that chat was gossip, scandal and “Bloody Thailand”.

Even for the ones who’ve mastered the language gave the impression that tue integration or acceptance is difficult. The strict laws of ownership that have long protected Thailand against foreign exploitation don’t show any signs of weakening and work permits, immigration and residency appear to be becoming tighter. Even for people who’ve invested years in the country, married and had children it seems difficult to be anything other than farang (foreigner).

The origins of the Songkhran festival were in showing respect for your elders by wetting their brow with scented jasmine water. It is now a nationwide, anarchic, drunken carnival of waterfighting that takes over every town, village, and city centre for between 3 and 14 days depending on the regional tradition. Groups of family and friends get dressed up and either gather outside shops or houses where they dance, eat, drink and throw water from big barrels at passers-by or they climb into the back of their bling new pick-up trucks, dance, eat, drink, and throw water from big barrels at everything in sight. The main streets in Phitsanoulok were gridlocked with this from 10-6 for 3 days straight. Mental. Sadly after being run-over by a pick-up, Al was in no fit state to hang off the back of one fighting drunken Thais all day, so we mainly drowned ourselves at the bar. I took a couple of solo missions into the mayhem and was soaked, splatted, covered in clay, made to down brandy, whisky, eat fish balls, groped by ladyboys, cheered, feared or revered by group after group of ecstatic, hyperactive Thais. As Wendy rightly warned me, a few people do indeed slip ice into thier buckets. Sobering.

There’s an unofficial ceasefire at sundown. People hang up their water-pistols and head down to the food festival by the river. Food is Thailand’s no.1 hobby and alot of the stalls looked pretty gourmet. I bumped into another Weegie and we headed to the insect stall where we each bought a deep-fried scorpion and a bag of crickets to share. Leg by leg, claw by claw, we slowly worked our way through them with Grossman-like procrastination no doubt to the irritation of the other Europeans - drunk and extremely proud of ourselves. I took one home for my cousin and failed to scare him by putting it on his leg and waking him up. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this ?” said Al, half asleep. “Eat it. They’re good”. Said me, smugly. Without pausing consider it Al crunched through it like a biscuit in two bites. “Morg, after 4 years in this country, nothing disgusts me anymore …”

Al managed to get us a vehicle (surprise, surprise … a pick-up !) and we decided to have a few days at the beach in Hua Hin. Before we could head off Al had an appointment at the police station about his accident compensation settlement. When the day finally arrived nothing was resolved and ‘the other party’ was nowhere to be seen. I came back from the toilet to find a farmer making a show of giving a bag of mangos to Alasdair and to the policeman. I looked over to Al after he shook my hand. “Who’s this ?”. “That’s the bastard who ran me over !”

Hua Hin is a nice but pretty generic beach resort with none of the stunning limestone cliffs of the South. Tourism in Thailand continues to mainstream and from what I can see is becoming ‘the New Spain’ for a wide international audience. Pizza places, Swedish restaurants, Mexican food, even a Celtic pub. And of course, go-go bars and sex tourists.

The whole issue of sex in Thailand is a complicated one that’s puzzled me since my last visit. Thailand has always seen itself as a country with a strong moral code and the media and the King at times blame foreign influence for the rise of prostitution among other evils. There is obviously a case for this as towns like Pattaya, ‘The Biggest Brothel in the World’ were founded with GI paychecks on R+R visits during the Vietnam war. Despite the the governments complete co-operation with the Americans I can’t help think that compared to a country like India - where just kissing sex tourist Richard Gere can cause moral outrage even today - Thailand must have had some history of concubinage for the enterprise to have been such a huge success. More than that, a figure I’ve heard a number of times, is that foreigners account for only 15% of Thailands sex industry. That’s a big number when you think of the relative populations of tourists and Thais. But 85% of what’s left is enough to make me think there’s something indigenous within the culture.

This is a culture that is more open and indiscriminate against transexuals (ladyboys) than ours. Being served in a restaurant or shop by one is a everyday occurance. My cousin tells me out of a class of 30 fifteen yearolds, he normally has around 4 or 5 camp or ladyboys. Girls here aren’t hidden under burkhas or giggling from behind saris, they’re wearing little tops, tennis skirts, hotpants, getting tattoos and flirting. Yet you can’t see kissing on the TV and all ‘good girls’ are still expected to virgins when they are married. Confusing.

A trip to the bookshop put me straight on a few points. Thailand does indeed have an impressive history of brothel keeping stretching back before the Ayuthaya period. The countries ingrained sexual double-standard where girls have to remain chaste or are effectively worthless and men are encouraged to be ‘experienced’ apparently being a driver in their existance. Polygamy was also commonplace, indicating a fair amount of fooling around and abandonned wives turning to prostitution. ’Modern Thailand’ as we know it, emerged at the start of the 20th century and as trade flourished Chinese labourers poured into the country and a whole new sex indursty was born. The country ceased to be an absolute monarchy in 1932 and adopted monogamous laws to appear more ‘civilised’ in puritanical European circles but old habits and double-standards live on it would appear.

I’m not sure what the story is with young Thais. I headed down Bangkok and went clubbing with a friend before heading to Myanmar. We went to RCA, a street full of new-build designer clubs with impressive interior design and soundsystems. Immaculately dressed, young Thais guzzled down whisky as their assigned waiters fussed around them like parents filling their glasses with ice. Hip-hop is big at the moment though there wasn’t much in the way of homeboysleaze bumpin’ and grindin’ … just lots of fresh faced younguns smiling and jumping up and down.

It must be an exciting time for them. A whole new city of skytrains, undergrounds, mega-malls, cineplexes, nightclubs, bars and gig venues has propelled Thai culture into the future and they’re at the front of it. One of the malls there - The Siam Paragon - just left me speachless. Waterfalls, fountains and flaming torches flank the exterioir as you decend from a skytrain station, suspended above a major junction. Inside is light, airy and extremely spacious and every single shop is a flagship designer store. Think of a high end brand and it will be there. You can buy a Porsche, Ferrari or Lambourghini on the 3rd. The world’s largest aquarium is in the basement. Some of the cities best restaurants on the first. A 15 screen cineplex with IMAX on the top. Two music venues. Mega-Asia. We just can’t do that sort of thing. We have our Bond and Bucchanan streets and we’re unlikely to build giant bladerunner skytrains down the middle of them. But brave new Thailand can.