A date in the Hanrahans

I have a little habit that I allow myself whenever the opportunity presents itself: the Hanrahans!

Han-ra-hans! Pham-pham-phaam! At first my tongue tripped over that name. Is it Thai, or is it some sort of Gaelic-Irish? So for the Hanrahans, in Bangkok, I exceptionally make a small habit of that. A habit may mean security for many, but it is also addictive, always getting or doing the same thing. Stereotypical behavior, I don't like that.

Still, I give way to that "creature of habit" partition on my hard drive whenever the time comes. Perhaps a rebellious streak in the man who, during his youth in Limburg, breathed the frivolous Roman air, averse to the Calvinistic customs that we conveniently call traditions.

Oh well, just kidding, but that habit thing, I really mean it. If I get too much of the same, I'll run.

Is it precisely because of our penchant for habit, our conservatism, or our curiosity, that we have come to be the only being that can laugh? And so some other things. Variation is the preservation of the world. There is so much to discover in the world. Well, a thorough discourse on stereotyped behavior is not what anyone asks of me. Who here is interested in the question of human success in evolution? No one! You would rather hear something about the country we have sold our hearts to, Thailand.

What am I going to do now?

That's why I make the following confession with a blush on my cheeks. It will be that time again in a few hours. Then the big bird of Turkish Airlines flaps its wings and lands me on Suvarnabhumi.

And me, the first thing I do as always, when I get back to Bangkok? Take a seat at a table in the Hanrahans and drink a beer, a Tiger. For once the world doesn't have to surprise me and it's a secret pleasure to know something is there even before I've seen it with my own eyes. If I'm lucky, there's another waitress who knows me from last time and brings me right up to that Tiger.

Once installed, I experience the pleasure of that simple habit, as if I had a secret date with myself. A date in Bangkok. In the Hanrahans, in those few hours after arrival, I manage to see the present and the future. What am I going to do now? I sort things out and unfold possible plans, where am I going this time? Koh Lipe or Koh Phi Phi, to Loei or Mae Hong Son? Do I go to Hanoi, or to Vientiane. Oh, I urgently need to visit Korat. In short, troop review before the big parade starts.

Every Thai contradicts the other

I picked up that habit for the Hanrahans when I first landed in Bangkok. The Rough Guide had told me that I was not allowed to take a taxi like a grand seigneur, but had to throw myself straight into the beehive of the metropolis via public transport.

So I picked everything out on the spot, experienced the new firsthand, you know. The Rail Train, the BTS, the MRT, even the buses. Each route has a different color. Why are they all the same with us?

I suffered for hours. The helpfulness of the Thai people is limitless. You ask something of a single Thai, out of interest a second joins in, he calls a few others to the aid and in the end it is a popular movement - each Thai strongly contradicts the other, but very subtly and indirectly and gives me his own good advice. To get out of there without losing face, you have to run away in silence.

Hopelessly lost

After all, I didn't end up in the Khao San that first time, but on the Sukhumvit. Countless soi's are stranded on the Sukhumvit, as the rivers flow to the sea. I was hopelessly lost. And there on my right hand it read the Hanrahans invitingly, just as I walked into one of those STIs.

A wooden horseman announcing the prizes and Happy Hour blocked my way. A narrow terrace only one flight of steps high, green-painted wooden moldings that wrapped the whole facade, a terrace overhang that looked a bit like the Art Nouveau canopies in Paris, sturdy chairs in teak and the name in strong gold serif against the facade. Hanrahans! Spicy dishes such as steak and fries or sausage and hamburger were on the menu, straight forward and no hassle with design dishes.

Inside, the pub was an example of impressive Irish solidity, walls to ceiling filled with different types of unique drinking glasses and bottles of spirits from around the world and Thailand. Entering the doorway on the right, you encountered a venerable wide, dark-stained staircase that ascended in a semi-winding to the first floor, an immense space that is always empty, as far as I remember. You have to go there if you want to take the phoo-phoo toilet as a man or if you are lady or ladyboy.

I was finally in Bangkok and I didn't have to

That first time it was three o'clock in the afternoon, I remember it just as clearly, when I call it up on my hard drive from the Memorable Moments folder; I was tired of the hustle and bustle and getting lost.

The waitress, a young Thai who lived in Thonburi, taught me everything. That Leo is the best beer, that Bangkok is big, that you can sleep anywhere, that small setbacks are part of life, that everything will be fine, that the sun is shining. Above all, that you must first sit down and come to yourself. Mai pen rai!

Suddenly everything became very clear to me and I thoroughly enjoyed two more Tigers, which she brought before I had even blinked. It was wonderfully hot, the sun fell on the houses across the street. But I was in the shadows and I was finally in Bangkok. And nothing was necessary.

What I didn't realize then was that I had ended up in the middle of the hell hole, in Soi See, Soi 4, about opposite Nana Plaza. But it was the middle of the day, on a Monday afternoon, unusually quiet. Only men to be seen, ice peddlers, they dragged bags full of ice blocks, bags in which you will find sand at our hardware store. And not a single food stall was steaming on the sidewalk.

I don't like habits

And what I especially didn't know? I had just picked out the only bar in the street where you will never be bothered by Thai ladies, not even in the middle of the night. Really no one asks you: 'Hello, how aw you?' The boss steps up! You only come there to relax, in the middle of the blank but enticing bustle. Try it out for yourself.

Soon I will be back in the Hanrahans, a date with myself. I'm sure I'll sit on the terrace with its green moldings for a few hours, to keep in mind what I'm going to do in the next two months.

I know the way now, but on Suvarnabhumi there will be a woman with a rose in her hand, who really likes our chocolate. At all costs she wants to catch me first hand, you never know. She will want to lead me on her ways in Krung Thep, her own ways and not mine. Whummmm… I don't really like habits as you know by now, not even those of others. Too much of the same is never good. Although, although… necessity knows no law. If she happens to know a way to heaven, I'm willing to follow her. But older men know better, don't they?