I have finished my workout at Wireless Road. I could head north, towards Central Embassy and have a quick lunch of khanom bueang, those crispy folded crêpes filled with shredded coconut and strips of sweet, eggy foi thong. Tempting.
Instead I turn southwards, walking alongside the eastern border of Lumphini Park. But why do I always walk outside, by the main road, with all the smog? I decide to head inside the park, just this once, even if the path is more windy and less straightforward.
I am rewarded by intermittent shade and fresher air. The calls of birds unseen. The quiet presence of those that I do see, such as the little egret stalking some invisible fish in the ponds. There are herons too; I’m not sure I’m gifted enough a birdwatcher to tell the difference.
Water monitor lizards too, large ones but not quite kaiju size. Any I spot run away when I approach. Humans are scarier to those that scare us than those creatures are to us, I suppose.
I remember my promise to Nong Ice, my little Thai godbrother: we’ll find one weekend morning to run together. Starting early while it’s cool, then removing our tank tops when it gets hotter. Only to put them on again when we pass the open-air gyms where the bodybuilders are lifting weights.
I laugh at our modesty, our embarrassment. I savour the hilarity of an experience that hasn’t happened yet but will, some day.