Ruins

A hundred bhat for a tuktuk could've easily brought me there. Yet I opted to walk. Again.

The route took me across Pratu Chai. Into what seemed like a long line of stores. I marched on a covered walkway.

I thought these were clothes being sold. But looking at them closer, I realized, they were laundry, dried and unwashed.

These are stalls. Or they were. Now they're home to five, ten families.

In my next turn, a woman white cream all over her face was removing lints from a rag. A dog started barking. Soon those sleeping woke up and joined. They approached me. About to grab my leg. But the woman stopped them. I bowed. Kapunka. And made my way past the homes of the homeless.

How many times shall you break into ruins Ayutthaya?

I could've easily paid a hundred bhat for a tuktuk to take me from Athithara Homestay, where I slept last night, to Coffee Old City. Instead, I opted to walk. Again.

Google Maps brought me across Pratu Chai, into what seemed like a long line of stores with a walkway beside them. At first, I thought these were indeed stores, open, with products being sold. After walking past a few stalls, however, I realized these weren't products, but laundry left to dry or laundry yet to be washed. It dawned on me these were abandoned stores where people were living in.

In my next turn, a woman white cream all over her face was removing lints from a rag. A dog started barking. Soon those sleeping woke up and joined. They approached me. About the grab my leg. But the woman stopped them. I bowed. Kapunka. And made my way past the homes of the homeless.

How many times shall you break into ruins Ayutthaya?