Stories Vol 4: Visas and Hangovers

 

The number one thing I came to Bangkok for was to get my visas for other countries, ie Vietnam. Because I had opted out of sending my passport to the Vietnamese Embassy in the U.S. I now had to either risk a Visa on Arrival, which I've heard works in some cases and does not in others,  or I had to do a 24 hour express visa at the Bangkok embassy location.

 

So there I found myself at 7:30am on the morning of my 2nd day, trying to figure out how to get to the embassy by 8:30. The travel agent at the front desk of my hostel was incredibly helpful the day before and had told me very quickly. "Right. Left. Right. Very easy, look for the sky train. It's not too far of a walk.

 

Lesson time: when someone gives you directions in the form of left then right then left. Write it down. Even if you think you have it. Right it down. Right the F'ing directions down. You'll thank me for this piece of advice one day.

 

If you aren't sure where this is going. Let's just say I walked a mile in the opposite direction of the sky train metro system. Rather than take a left at the end of the road our hostel sat on I took a right. I looked up and down for the rail system but it was no where in sight. Realizing my mistake after 20 minutes of walking, I quickly booked it back the opposite direction.

 

The faster I walked down Silom Road towards my Sky Train Entrance, the sweatier and sweatier I got. Having only had a coffee and banana for breakfast the walk in the heat was making me famished. Each street vendor with banana leaf wrapped mangos and rice, kept beckoning me to stop and delay my passport drop off. "The Lines are too long, Morgan. Curb your inner fatkid." I told myself.

 

"Focus. Focus." I continue on the path. The next stretch of vendors I pass are selling to go boxes of fried rice, chicken and a sunny side up egg. "Ugh. This is painful and cruel." I can't stop. I need to get to my train or I risk staying an extra day in Bangkok. After about 30 minutes of back tracking, I finally see the train. Ok. I'm a dumbest for having missed that.

 

A minute of confusion at looking at the ticketing machine, I seek out a ticket booth. Not knowing a wink of Thai (cultural fail on my part) I point to the Vietnamese Embassy on the map and smile sheepishly. The woman glares at me, then loosens her tightly bound lips and lets a smile peak through. "Thank you." I bow in appreciation.

 

After about 20 minutes on the train, I arrive at my stop. I get out in a shuffle of Thai people and look aimlessly for the street exit I need. I quickly find it and hustle into an exit line for the turnstiles. My ticket fails. I am now holding up the line of a large group of Thai Business people. The woman behind me taps me on the back. "You go to ticket counter," she says while pointing to a booth a the far left side of the turnstiles. I walk over, smile and quickly find out my fare was 5 baht under what I needed. I pay and get back in line.

 

Another 3 minutes pass. It feels like ages though given my earlier set back. I am on a crunch now to get to the office before the line for visas gets too long. I was told people start lining up at 8 and it is now 8:50 and they do not accept 24 hr visas applications after ten. I'm nervous and sweaty. Finally I am back at the turnstile. I push my card into the small slit in the machine. "Eureka!" It worked.

Now out of the metro, I rush out towards the street. I'm speed walking now, almost at a joggers pace. I pass 3 blocks, the embassy should be coming up. Passing an armed gate, I look up and see a sign for the embassy. Outside the gate there is a door and passage way marked with a small white piece of paper with the word "Visas" written in black letters. I enter, scared I'm trespassing on Vietnamese government property.
 

As I walk into the shallow hallway, I see a set of wooden doors, I open them. There before me is a room that looks like a U.S. DMV. It is empty. I was told there was going to be loads of people waiting in line. "AM I in the right place." I think to myself. The guy behind the counter motions me over. He hands me a visa application. Upon me filling it out to completion, he says, "passport. 2,700 baht. Express. You pick up at 4pm tomorrow."

 

Rule one of travel: Never loose sight of your passport.

 

With a bit of hesitancy and shaking hands, I relinquish my passport to him and hand over the 2,700 baht. "Please let this be legitimate."

 

Leaving with only the hangover I entered with, I exit the building. I spend the rest of the day wandering the city, markets and shopping centers wondering if I had just made a huge mistake. By the time I get back to the hostel, I am exhausted and ready for a nap.