This morning, I was approached in the street by a suspiciously friendly local who wanted to know if I would like him to take me on a tour of the local temples, a service which he was quite keen to make it clear he was doing out of the goodness of his own heart rather than for any nefarious purpose. This, of course, is a bit like knocking on someone's front door and starting the conversation by assuring them that you are not there to case the joint. I must have given him one of my trademarked furtive looks because he immediately started producing reams of maps and documents from his capacious pockets and laying them out on the road for me to look at, as though this would somehow prove that he was actually nothing more than a loveable and slightly eccentric local character. What it actually did, of course, was show me in no uncertain terms that he had left the house this morning fully prepared for whatever confidence trick he was intending to play. Unfortunately for him, I had also been pre-warned of this particular scam...

Wherever you go in Bangkok, you will encounter people suspiciously eager to show you around their city. Now, don't get me wrong - the Thai people are well known for their hospitality and, in my experience, are some of the nicest and most welcoming people you'll ever come across, except when left in charge of a motor vehicle. However - and I'm sure I really don't need to explain this to anyone - if anybody, anywhere in the world, stops you on the street and offers to show you around the city instead of whatever it is they were otherwise planning to do with their day, you have to stop for a moment and wonder what's in it for them. In this particular scam, your good samaritan may well proceed to give you a perfectly good sightseeing tour of the local area, building up your trust. At some point, though, he will almost certainly miraculously remember that his friend happens to work in a local gem shop - and since the two of you have now become such good friends, wouldn't it be great if he could persuade his friend to give you a big discount. Except, of course, that taking him up on his offer will leave you out of pocket and in possession of a worthless lump of glass.

Being well aware of the details of this scam, and seeing as I was surrounded by thousands of people in the heart of a big city rather than in the middle of nowhere at the mercy of a man with a gun to my head, I spent a couple of hours partaking of a particularly fine guided tour of the local markets and places of worship, at no cost to myself. I marvelled as every temple seemed to be more beautiful than the last, a fact which my guide seemed genuinely proud of. I nodded politely and listened as he described the history of everywhere we visited, telling myself at the back of my mind that half of it probably wasn't true and that I was in the company of the Thai version of Del Boy Trotter, out to make a quick buck. I could imagine him laughing his head off at home later as he told his friends how he had convinced a gullible British tourist that the temples were all built in Germany and flown in brick by brick. At every turn, golden Buddha statues and temples the size of city blocks glinted in the sun, and after a while I started to genuinely wonder if there was any gold left for the rest of the world to use. I expect, when you put all of your unwanted jewellery in a padded bag and send it off to "Sell my Gold" - which, by the way, is surely not much better than writing on the envelope "Please steal the contents of this envelope" - it all just gets melted down and shipped off to Thailand for use in patching up sections of temple wall. Finally, after we had spent a good two hours exploring the less seedy side of Bangkok and I had been thoroughly convinced that there really was more to this city than the red light district and roads so choked by pollution that everybody walks around wearing face masks all the time, my guide suddenly remembered that his friend ran a jewellery shop and could probably get me a discount.

"Oh, what a shame." I told him sadly as I handed him a wad of Baht for his time, "I've got to catch a bus in a few minutes."

And here's the compulsory disclaimer for terminally stupid people: If somebody you've never met before suddenly offers to show you around their city, just say No. Don't do what I did and try to play them at their own game. Pickpockets are everywhere in places like this, and there was a time when you couldn't open the newspaper without reading something about someone getting in an unlicensed taxi at an airport and finding themselves on a deserted backstreet being robbed. Let common sense prevail. If a man you've never met before suddenly offers you flowers, however, that's just Impulse (1).

Yesterday, you may recall, I mentioned the beautiful Lumphini Park here in Bangkok. Strangely, I've never once seen the place mentioned on any television travel show, the presenters usually preferring to show people around the Patpong night market (which would be great if it weren't for the half naked girls and brothel signs peeking out between every stall) and introduce them to expensive river cruises designed to separate visitors from their cash on their first day in the city. This is a shame, because Lumphini Park really is quite spectacular and a welcome oasis of peace and tranquility in the middle of an otherwise vibrant city that doesn't stop. The only negative point I have about the place, in fact, is that getting to it from the skytrain, or when walking, requires crossing one of the most important traffic intersections in Bangkok where you will have to contend with about a zillion cars honking and spewing out toxic fumes while trying desperately to race each other to the other side. An overpass adds to the chaos, pumping even more cars and bikes into the mix, and by the time you've taken your life quite literally into your hands (well, figuratively anyway - but let's not split hairs) to get across the road to the park, you may find your enjoyment of Lumphini somewhat ruined by the constant nagging thought that you have to do it all again to get back. Here's a thought - what about some sort of pedestrian bridge, or would that be too much like a good idea? If you want to go to the park, I would recommend going a little out of your way and taking the MRT - Bangkok's underground train system - this has an exit directly into the park, which saves one hell of a lot of hassle.

Lumphini Park boasts several lakes, the main one of which is so large that it's sometimes hard to see the other side. Boats can be hired for a lazy afternoon on the water, and the carefully mown lawns are always covered in families eating picnics. In the morning, as is traditional in this part of the world, locals can be seen doing Tai Chi on their way to work, something which always takes westerners by surprise as the idea of stopping off on the way to the office to join a group of fifty strangers performing choreographed exercises in the middle of the town square is not something our brains are designed to comprehend. In the west, the idea of bending over to tie our shoelaces in public tends to fill us with dread at the thought that somebody might see us or trip over us, so suddenly breaking into spontaneous dance on the high street probably isn't something that we'll be embracing anytime soon.

The park is also home to between 100 and 200 monitor lizards which roam around, nonchalantly looking for picnicking families to surprise or children to frighten. At up to three metres in length, these are not creatures to be trifled with, although they pretty much keep to themselves as long as you don't have a few too many to drink and try to ride them home or anything. Alcohol isn't allowed in the park anyway, which is probably just as well. For many people visiting Thailand, Lumphini Park will be the first time they have ever seen a 200lb water monitor in the wild and it is quite amusing to watch people carefully keeping their distance from these giant prehistoric monsters as if they expect to be pounced on and gobbled up at any moment. I remember, back at school, we had a 200lb milk monitor called Geoff, but that's not quite the same thing. Take it from me, unless you've got a bag of fish on your head or have spent the morning rolling about in a bath of turtle soup, the lizards probably won't even care that you're there.

Tomorrow: Kanchanaburi and the bridge on the river Kwae

(1) This is a slogan from an old television campaign for Impulse body spray. It has suddenly occurred to me that I may have just inadvertently suggested that I like it when men give me flowers. I don't. Right, I think that clears that up.

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, and the entry on this page may not necessarily reflect todays date.