The Motorbike Taxi

Having experimented with “Walking in Bangkok” and meeting some, shall we say, ‘challenges’, I wanted to explore alternative means of getting around. This completely excludes dog walking as that just needs to be done, and we’re all (dogs included) starting to become oblivious to the chaos around us. We have also very quickly learned to appreciate the relative tranquillity that the weekend brings, and how a relaxing dog walk is possible.

Next Step

I’d been fortunate enough to only need to visit fairly local places so far, generally within a 2.5km radius of our house, so had opted to walk. I had once almost been foiled by my inability to cross a busy road but had overcome this obstacle on that occasion. The time of day had probably helped as a few days later I was met with the same hurdle on another road. I’d set out at 08:30 one morning to attend a doctor’s appointment at 09:30, that was just under 3km away. I’d planned my route and had studied Google Street View so felt confident that the walk was safely achievable.

In the back of my mind, I had thought that today might be the day when I took the plunge and tried out a motorbike taxi. My only encounters with them so far had been limited to them weaving around me as I walked along the pavement. I’m not sure what the official rules are, but motorbikes seem to be allowed to take the path of least resistance, even if that involves leaving the road. Not all red lights seem to be applicable, and even driving in the wrong direction appears to be acceptable if it keeps everyone moving.  Chris was already well into the swing of getting about in Bangkok and was even getting a bike to take him the full 8km to his office.

All Going to Plan

About a third of the way into my walk everything was going well. I was making good progress, knew exactly where I was and wasn’t feeling too sweaty! It’s one thing to rock up to the supermarket dripping with sweat, knowing that by the time you have to interact with another person the AC will have cooled you down, but turning up to a doctor’s office in that state when there’s every chance you will be prodded and poked upon arrival was not advisable. I ideally didn’t want to arrive with anything more than a mild glisten on my face.

The road in question had what appeared to be a legitimate crossing; it even had a green/red man to indicate when to cross and when not to. Marvelous! The red man was showing so I waited patiently for the green man to appear. The crossing I was trying to negotiate was next to a crossroads with the traffic at each of the four entry points controlled by traffic lights. When a traffic light was on red, there was also a countdown timer indicating how long to go until the light would change to green. I watched as the timer on my road counted down and the traffic started to build, with the motorbikes making their way to the front of the queue. The timer got to zero and the traffic was released; a cacophony of engines and horns being simultaneously emitted.  I continued to wait, watching what I thought was a normal cycle of traffic lights elapse, and which would ultimately result in my much-anticipated green man. A few other people managed to pick their way across the road, zigzagging through the bikes and cars, but my deeply ingrained compliance held me back from taking this impatient approach.

Desperate Times

I’d been standing at the crossing for a while, and it appeared as though the full traffic light cycle had passed, yet the green man was still proving elusive. I imagine at this point a look of panic started to spread across my face – I was not getting across this road anytime soon so how was I going to get to my appointment? It was then that an enthusiastic motorbike taxi man caught my attention. I initially looked away and towards the crossing which still wasn’t showing any signs of a green man. I looked back at Mr Motorbike who was still waving at me energetically. If there was ever a good time to get on a motorbike for the first time, it was surely when I felt like I had no other option? I raised my arm to signal that I intended to procure his services and he ventured towards me.

Reflecting on what happened next with a positive frame, I think I learned my first real lesson about being a Farang (foreigner) in Bangkok. I did subsequently read something online which basically said if anyone Thai ever approaches you offering a service, you are almost certainly going to be ripped off. I doubt that is 100% accurate but I now recognise the scenario.

The advice I’d been given was to show the address I wanted to go to on my phone and to make sure I agreed on the price before we set off. I showed 'Mr Motorbike' my phone, he looked a bit blank but said ‘OK’ and indicated for me to get on. I asked him ‘how much?’ but he just continued to gesture for me to get on. I asked again, and he said ’20 baht’ which seemed like a bargain so I climbed on. He then set off in the opposite direction to which I had been going and the alarm bells started ringing.

Oh No!

A few yards down the road he proceeded to pull up next to a random girl on the pavement and have a chat with her. Did he know this girl? What was happening? Who knows? On we went, still going in the wrong direction. He then did the same thing with another girl who then came to talk to me and the penny dropped. This idiot didn’t have a clue where I wanted to go but had just got me on the bike and was hoping to find someone who spoke a tiny bit of English to ask me. Anyway, I explained to the girl, she said something back to 'Mr Motorbike' and everyone seemed happy, so on we went.

I still wasn’t entirely convinced that we were headed for the right place, but I had bigger problems now; we were absolutely flying, and I was quite frankly terrified! I can’t really describe the journey in much detail as every time we got close to another vehicle I just closed my eyes. What I do remember is wishing I could somehow magic myself off that bike and go somewhere safe. To top it all off 'Mr Motorbike' started shouting something about 120 baht; a sudden dramatic increase in the fare he’d originally stated. I was just hoping to get there, and my biggest fear was that I would be deposited somewhere even further away than where I started. I opened my eyes and started to recognise some landmarks near my destination – hurrah! Even if I was going to get ripped off I would at least get to where I needed to be. We finally arrived, and I staggered off the bike. The fare was now 150 baht, but 'Mr Motorbike' knew I’d pay just to get him the hell away from me! And although it was extortionate for Bangkok, it was only £3.50 so not the end of the world, just a bit of lost pride for a poor inexperienced Farang.

Lesson Learned

Unfortunately, the sweat that I’d avoided from not walking, had been replaced by sweat generated through sheer terror, but at least I got there. They took my blood pressure at the doctors and by some miracle it was normal – I was half expecting to be immediately admitted to hospital in the early stages of a stroke.

Needless to say, I elected to walk back, and strangely had developed new-found confidence to walk out in front of traffic to cross the road! I spotted some other Farangs waiting at a crossing and they were able to follow me as I assertively strode across the road, timing my walk to perfection to avoid moving vehicles.

I have since been on a few more motorbike taxis and the experience hasn’t been quite so traumatic. It is genuinely to the best way to make short journeys, particularly when you get charged the correct fare. They also don’t always hurtle along at a million miles an hour, the one that took me home yesterday travelled at such a leisurely speed it was quite a pleasant experience! I think I shall always have a love/hate relationship with the motorbike taxi but unfortunately, it has to be done.