Sunday, November 28, 2004

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  • Fata Migraina


    Chiang Mai, as I entered this cultural capital of Thailand around 5 o clock in the morning, I was welcomed by empty streets and a steady fog of rain. My backpack felt like it was filled with stones, and as my body cried for sleep, my feet were actually sleeping. burning because the blood was forced back in them, after me having spent a night folded up on a government bus. One guesthouse after the other turned me down, as it was a peak, due to the festivities of Loy Kratong. I was prepared to sleep under the first bridge I would find, and then I saw this image of a Fallen Angel, her high heels clicking on the wet pavement, a 20-cent rose in her hand. Even tough it made me feel even more lonely at this time of night, I somehow found the courage to try one more place before throwing the towel in the ring. And behold, I found what they call "Accomodation". I could have been sleeping under a bridge after all, considering the state of the establishment, but at least I had a door between me and the rain. After a good night's sleep, Chiang Mai was ready to enthrall me..

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