Ancient Chinese proverb: "Man who walk through turnstile without care, going to Bangkok"

They have a department at airports, you know, where all the staff are given special training to enable them to speak on the tannoy in a way which people can almost - but not quite - make out. This is why, having previously experienced the panic of realising that the irritated voice on the public address system was actually talking to me and that I was the one holding up the plane, I sat myself slap in front of the biggest display screen in the whole of Terminal Four and refused to move until my flight was called. And contrary to everything we have been led to believe by "Airport" and other TV shows of that ilk, absolutely nothing has gone wrong so far.

As the plane pulled away from the terminal building, the captain made an announcement on the tannoy which I could almost - but not quite - make out. I think he was asking the passenger who left a blue armadillo at the check in desk to report to the galley, but I may be wrong.

If anyone ever tells you that flying is easy, don't believe a word of it - They are lying, mad, or working undercover for British Airways. The flight time from London to Bangkok is a little over eleven hours, and then you have to allow for the fact that your watch jumps forward by seven in mid-flight. The whole experience is calculated to leave you in a gibbering mess at the other end, praying that the hotel you are booked into doesn't turn out to be in the middle of a building site.

I was sat in a special section of the plane called "Cramp Class". Actually, I just made that up - It was called "British Airways World Traveller", and the legroom between the seats was clearly designed to make me want to stand up for the rest of my life. I'm told that the view is brilliant as you come in over Bangkok Airport - but I couldn't tell because when I arrived at the check-in counter at Heathrow yesterday, I was informed by the most beautiful check-in girl on the planet that all the window seats were taken and she was very sorry but would smile at me until my heart melted and the problem went away. She must have seen me coming.

I would have been quite happy to listen to the captain telling us over the tannoy exactly what we were watching, but World Traveller class didn't appear to have one that worked. A tannoy, that is, not a captain. For all we could make out from the First Class cabin next door, we might've been flying through a cloud of low-flying pigs.

Those of us who had booked through the same travel agency were met at the airport by an exuberant young Thai lady who eagerly shuffled us all on board a waiting shuttle bus. The first thing she thought it important to tell us on our journey into the center of Bangkok was that we were staying right on the doorstep of the famous Patpong red light district, where every fantasy known to man and a few others known only to men in dodgy raincoats could be served up on a plate with cherries on top. She told us this presumably because it was exactly what the two little old ladies and the young married couple on the bus with me had flown several thousand miles to hear. No information about the stunningly beautiful temples of Bangkok or how breathtaking their majestic city is to behold, but if any of us needed instant sexual gratification upon arrival, she wanted us to know we were sorted.

It struck me, as we drove into town on a seemingly endless spiral of spaghetti junctions, that there is a distinct class divide here in Thailand. The roads that we were driving along were in pristine condition, and every now and then we were required to pull up at a toll booth to pay for the privilege of getting any closer to our destination. Directly below us, however, underneath the huge motorways, the landscape seemed to be filled with shanty towns in which people were living out their lives in cardboard boxes. This is a side of life which big tourism companies do their best to hide away, of course, which is why, since this trip, I have taken something of an interest in foregoing organised tours in favour of exploring at my own pace and with my own agenda. For the next few weeks, however, I was at the mercy of the big hotel chains.

We were not all going to the same hotel, of course, so the shuttle had to stop en-route to drop people off. At the first place we went to, I nearly lost my luggage - If I hadn't happened to look out of the window at just the right moment and notice that the porter was nonchalantly escorting my suitcase into the wrong hotel, I would have had to call in the local police to solve the mystery of the vanishing bag on my first day in a strange country. And believe me, this is not something you want to have to do when the temperature is only slightly less than that at the centre of the sun and the only thing on your mind is just how soon you can jump into a cold bath for a couple of years.

The Dusit Thani, which is where I was eventually deposited, turns out to be one of the more exclusive hotels in Bangkok. Quite how I got myself booked into this den of wealth I cannot say, but I intend to make the most of it. Upon arrival, my bags were suddenly and unexpectedly whisked away by a porter who appeared out of nowhere and dissapeared just as quickly. Then, before I had any time to wonder whether this was supposed to happen or if I had just witnessed all my clothes being stolen, all sorts of elegantly dressed gentlemen began bowing and opening doors for me and I was escorted across the lobby by a young Thai lady who somehow managed to walk the entire distance without straightening up once. At the check-in desk, I was treated like a visiting dignitary before being shown to my room on the 12th floor personally by another lady who was so covered in oriental perfume that she smelled exactly like a new age candle shop.

The hotel is like something out of a dream. The corridors are finely carpeted and covered in elaborate eastern designs, and there are so many mirrors on the walls that I have now turned a corner and politely greeted myself several times. My room is quite the largest I have seen in all my travels, and I can honestly say that the bed is large enough to sleep about five. Come to think of it, given the proximity of Patpong this may well be the idea.

I have a fully stocked fridge and bar, a walk-in closet which displays all sorts of twinkly lights for no apparent reason as I approach, and the view of Bangkok from my window just has to be seen to be believed. There is a video system in the room and a library of tapes for my viewing pleasure - although I so far haven't had the guts to see what sort of viewing material they have provided me with; something tells me I might not want to know. The bathroom goes on until tomorrow - mirrors on mirrors, huge walk in shower, and I've never seen so many free toiletries in a hotel room. Soap, Cotton buds, sewing kit, shower cap, detergent, bottles of body lotion, shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, comb, and an emery board. I can hardly shut my case. In the wardrobe is a complementary dressing gown, and I have a book in front of me telling me about so many hotel services that it's dizzying! There are five restaurants, a nightclub, swimming pool and spa, Gym, A whole floor of shops and boutiques, and much more besides. Somewhere, there's probably a partridge in a pear tree.

I'm going to like it here, I can tell.

About Simon and Burfords Travels:

Simon Burford is a UK based travel writer. He will be re-publishing his travel blogs, chapters from his books and other miscellaneous rantings on these pages over the coming weeks and months. You can also follow his world photo blog on Twitter at @BurfordsWorld.

Simon is also currently working on a brand new epic dystopian Science Fiction parody (it says here) - check out Rewind: The Empyreum War at http://www.rewindthemovie.net.

ALWAYS Remember, citizens - the COMPany Loves You