Free Journey From the Summit by Lorraine Ereira

dark faces pressed up against the glass windows outside the airport. My first thought was that these were friends and families who were waiting to meet people arriving on flights. It wasn’t until we got outside the airport that we realized they were mostly beggars, waiting to swarm upon unsuspecting travellers. Those who were not begging were vying for business.
    “You need hotel? You want rickshaw? I give you good price,” they all clamoured for our attention at once. Fortunately the airline had arranged a coach and a hotel for us so we had no need to try to make any sense of the barrage of information that was being hurled at us from every direction. All we had to do was to try to literally fight our way through the crowds of beggars pawing and beseeching us.
    We were appalled at the squalor and filth that these people lived in. To begin with we felt sorry for them, but after about five minutes of being in their country and being plagued and hounded by them from every angle our sympathy evaporated and turned to hot, frustrated irritation.
    The hotel they put us in was grim. Cockroaches feasted on the stained tablecloth that our food was served on. Our bedroom window had no glass in its rotting frame, and the bed sheets looked as though they had never been washed. The air was stifling and thick with stagnant heat. We were never happier to get on our flight the next day to Bangkok.
    Thailand, by contrast, was enchanting. There were locals offering tuk-tuks and taxis as we arrived at the airport but in a much more subtle manner. We had been advised to head for the main thoroughfare where many cheap guesthouses could be found, so we had a sense of purpose. Although it was late at night when we arrived, the Kao Shan Road was alive with people milling about and the bright welcoming lights of open bars and restaurants. Even though we were tired and hot, and worried about what the place may hold for us, the warmth of the people and the hustle and bustle of the city felt friendly and exciting.
    We found a cheap guesthouse and settled in for the night. Mosquitos buzzed around our heads as we lay perspiring on flimsy mattresses under noisy fans, but we were as happy as our situation allowed us to be. We made a plan to try and contact Adam in the morning, letting him know we had arrived and trying to find out if there was any more news of Saul’s release.
    Adam was staying in a guesthouse in Goa with a phone knowing that we would be trying to contact him. So when we called the next day, Cathy excitedly telling him we had arrived, I stood by her waiting with bated breath for news of Saul. His case had been back to court, as he had said in his letter. I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, chanting, “Please, please, please,” in my head. He said Daniel had money; surely they had enough to buy his way out? But the news was the same… wait. They were still trying; they had more people to see, more bribes to offer. We had no choice but to wait some more.
    Well, what else could we do? At least we were not waiting at home; we were nearer to them, and in a place that needed exploring. We would make the most of being here and have a look around the city. We couldn’t go far, because we still hoped they could be here any day, but we would relax into the Thai city as much as we could.
    Our first attempt at visiting a temple failed miserably. We were dressed in shorts and vests, trying to stay cool in the overwhelming heat and humidity. When we arrived at the doors of the Wat Pho Temple – the temple of the reclining Buddha – they very politely told us we could not come in.
    “You no dress polite,” they said with sweet smiles as they indicated our attire.
    We went away and returned with longer sleeves and long skirts.
    They allowed us to enter the temple and it was well worth making the effort for! From the outside, we were over-awed by its magnificence. It was set in beautifully maintained gardens and surrounded by little ornate