The impeccable new Suvarnabhumi airport didn't have me fooled. Bangkok is still sweltering, gritty and chaotic. On stepping out of the flash steel and concrete behemoth I knew I had returned. The thick air, sickly stench and relentless stream of troublesome touts stirred up memories of my time here last year and ignited my energy levels somewhat after the not-so-smooth as silk flight from Melbourne, in which a short bout of turbulence had passengers screaming in sync to the rock of the aircraft. Unnerving, yes. We made our way to our pre-booked accommodation in Khao San and realizing we were without an address got dropped in the general vicinity, stopped at a bar and I reunited myself, at 9am, with a bottle of Singha. The ethanol began to work instantly on my weary head, lightening my mood further, gently dissolving my anxieties and fuelling my already bloated optimism of what lay ahead. The moment brought to mind a mélange of thought. I was without responsibility or job, and with enough cash to let me travel for at least the next 2 months; every reason in the world to have a permanent grin plastered across my face. My adventure had begun.