What you don't know about condo | Bangkok Edition
My old condo. It's impressive alright, but give me a rundown bungalow
any day.Bangkok, as with many other Asian metropolitan cities, has for a while now, been enveloped in a feverish frenzy to erect more and more of these modern day monoliths. They practically pop up like daisies, at a rate which, for a simpleton like me, is not only alarming, but begs the question as to just how safe and resilient they are. Having watched two condos, right outside my very window go up, in ultra-fast speed; I remain highly dubious of the whole thing. I'm for gardens, routine and good old fashioned propriety.
A world ago, back in the big smog that is London town, you could practically set your watch to me.
Every Sunday, I'd hop on to my rusty cerulean Raleigh and cycle to my local market. Bow in hair, wicker basket in hand, I'd spend the about an hour perusing the farmers' produce. Then it'd be back home to sort out the coming next week's meals, bills and give the house a good clean.
If I die and go to heaven. It probably would be just like that.
Ordered but charming.
Now that I've officially handed in my notice, it's on to newer and hopefully better things.
First things first. I want quails... or chickens... or both.