Our driver was supposed to pick us up at 8:30am, but was waiting in the parking lot already before 8am.
The journey to the airport resembled a marathon, only instead of miles, we measured it in hours – an hour to be precise. Just when we thought we were smooth sailing with our boarding passes in hand, reality hit us: we had to queue up for another round of boarding pass printing, turning a quick check-in into an Olympic-level waiting game of approximately 30 yawn-inducing minutes.
Upon touchdown in Bangkok, we were met with the familiar hustle and bustle of immigration, where we soared through like seasoned pros. But then came the taxi drama, where lost in translation took center stage. Our driver's incessant "How you pay?" echoed like a broken record, escalating into a theatrical performance of frustration. Just when we braced ourselves for a being kicked out of the taxi scene, the "aha" moment arrived – it wasn't our fare he was after, but an inquiry about highway toll payments.
Arriving at our hotel sans toll roads due to our cashless situation, we were greeted with promises of backpack portage to the heavens, only to find our room resembling more of a mild disappointment than a vacation sanctuary.
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