With a soft tinkle of my doorbell (Yes, I have a doorbell), my breakfast arrived at 9.00AM sharp this morning courtesy of room service. Oh, the unashamed luxury of it all. Juice, toast, croissants and honey, pancakes with sausages, tea with cream - followed by the biggest plate of bacon and eggs I've ever seen in my life. Quite a surreal introduction to Thailand, to be provided with the most western breakfast imaginable, but certainly a nice first glimpse of local hospitality. The whole thing arrived on a trolley so big that I had to move all my stuff out of the way so the guy could get it through the door...

Last night, people from all over Thailand sat up to watch the most spectacular light-show in history as the annual Leonids meteor shower rained down on the country - Except me, because I was sleeping off my flight. I half expected to wake up this morning and find that everyone else was blind and that man-eating plants were roaming the streets, but according to The Nation, the countries independent newspaper which was pushed under my door at dawn, the whole thing turned out to be a major disappointment. Since I was too jet-lagged to stay up and watch, though, I cannot comment on what a major disappointment might be by Thai standards - this is, after all, a country where people get really quite upset if every surface isn't entirely covered in gold.

After recovering from breakfast, I headed out to see what this famous land of temptation had to offer. And no, not in the way you're thinking. Between the buildings, there is the constant glint of the out-of-town gold encrusted temples, and across the road from the hotel is the beautiful Lumphini Park, which a booklet in my room suggests would be an ideal place to go jogging in the early morning heat. This is the same booklet which I filed in the bin after laughing wholeheartedly at it for some time.

There is something oddly disturbing about Bangkok - You can sense that it is there, but can never quite put your finger on it. You can walk for miles in any direction, along seemingly endless streets of shops with people begging outside, but never actually seem to get anywhere. Occasionally, Patpong looms up expectantly in front of you, screaming out "Look - Sex here". It doesn't seem to matter which way you go, either, all roads seem to twist and turn until you find yourself back at the red light district. Or is it just me? Bangkok also has an unpleasant smell to it in places, which seems to go away if you move a little way up the street - I have absolutely no idea what this might be, assuming they've thought to employ a few people to clean the drains from time to time, but it certainly keeps you moving.

Within ten minutes of walking, it is also vitally important to sit down for an hour or so and take a course of rehydration therapy, just in case you should suddenly dissolve into a puddle. When I got back to the Dusit Thani this morning, after a little over an hour outside, the maid looked up from making my bed for just long enough to burst into a fit of giggles as I staggered through the door, my previously top of the range shirt looking as though I had been swimming in Lumphini lake with all my clothes on: "You take Tee-Shirt next time," she advised me helpfully, waving my own Tee-Shirt at me for added effect. I think my reply may have been a little colourful, but it didn't stop her smiling and bowing as she left the room backwards, almost tripping over the vacuum cleaner.

Tonight, I decided to take a stroll up to a local restaurant for a bite to eat. On the way out of the hotel, I was accosted by a taxi driver who wanted to know where he could take me. Having explained politely that I was only going up the road, he called after me: "You come back later for Massage, yes?" I can only assume that he wanted to take me to a massage parlour, rather than perform the service himself. You never can tell in Bangkok.

Trying to cross the road here is something that has to be experienced to be believed. The traffic lights really don't seem to perform any function: red means stop and green means "Look, there's a British tourist - Put your foot down!"

Now, I realise that this might sound a little on the paranoid side, but that's honestly the way it seems to be. When a light turns red on a busy junction, the cars just carry on regardless and try to weave around each other. It's quite lucky that Bangkok seems to have one of the most modern monorail systems I've ever encountered, its sleek new trains sailing over my head as I walk down the street and its stations long and accommodating with easy to follow route maps pasted on every surface. There is absolutely no problem finding your way around Bangkok by train while looking down on the maniacs in the cars below - it's only when you come back down to street level at your destination that the problems begin. Many a British tourist can be found hanging around on street corners in Bangkok, dripping with sweat, jumping out of the way of oncoming traffic in case it should suddenly decide to mount the pavement, and peering myopically over a large unfolded map while trying not to lose the will to live!

Bangkok seems to come alive at night, but in a way which pretty much makes you want to go straight back to your room and wait for the sun to come up the next day before daring to venture out again. The streets are all suddenly lit up Vegas style, and the beggars are replaced by prostitutes plying their trade. I was propositioned as I walked past Burger King by the most seductive thing on two legs, wearing most of the makeup ever sold in Bangkok all at once and clad in a low cut blue dress which was so long that she looked as though she was standing in a puddle. And this was just the woman trying to sell me on the idea of going in for a Whopper. This is not a euphamism.

I finally reached my destination, and was served a lump of meat which looked as though it had been cooked for all of twelve seconds. I could see the plague coming out. Still, it was a hot meal, so I tucked in and took my chances. They had something on the menu called "Samurai Pork", which I was strongly tempted to try purely out of unwise curiosity, but then I had visions of Japanese warriors on some sort of international exchange program chasing squealing pigs around the kitchen with ceremonial swords, and I sort of went off the idea.