When we arrived and sat at one of the red-clothed circular tables I noticed that all it had on it was a few bowls and spoons, some glasses and three one-litre bottles: one Fanta, one Coke and one of 80% proof whiskey. The mental implication of this was that there should be an equal consumption of all three. Fortunately I managed to deflect my host's quite considerable insistent hospitality and ended up drinking none of the whiskey - one of his servings of which would have rendered me unconscious within moments.

There were around 200 guests, a live singer and a succession of spectacular Thai dishes - some of which were thankfully vegan-friendly (mainly the fruit ones!). I had a suspicion that the whiskey had been provided to make the karaoke that followed the professional singer more entertaining. It did. Needless to say the whiskey bottle at our table was empty by 9pm and vigorous but unsuccessful attempts were being made to procure a second bottle. Everyone was very friendly - despite the communication barrier; few people speaking English and my Thai limited to "hello" and "thank you" (which generally do not lend to very sophisticated conversation). On the way back to my hotel I reflected on the fractal nature of Bangkok (that's the problem with being a theoretical physicist). There are many intersection highways and roads called '"Thanon". Branching off from these are smaller roads called "Soi" - smaller still, alleyways lead off from these called "Trok".

The large Thanon are integrated into a system of flyovers and underpasses that make Birmingham's Spaghetti Junction look like a quiet country intersection. It seems that the city surgeons have embarked on a series of massive bypass operations to relieve Bangkok's circulation problems; huge monolithic white concrete pillars litter the place in readiness to support the next stretch of six-lane superhighway.

According to my Lonely Planet, the name Bangkok refers only to the small original part of this city. The official name for the whole metropolis is Krung Thep - or City of Angels. This may be why the Democracy Monument - built to celebrate the transition of the country from an absolute monarchy to a constitutional one - consists of four giant angel wings. It sits on Thanon Ratchadamnoen Klang - the main 12-lane highway that bisects the city east to west. The central boulevard is lined with gilded statues and giant photographs of Rama IX - the current Thai King. The Thai hold their king in great reverence and the presence of these homages to him and their proximity to the Democracy Monument, which effectively commemorates a rejection of monarchical power, are perhaps an exercise in diplomacy. On a more mundane level - the Democracy Monument is a very handy landmark for an inept navigator like myself and it came in very useful as I was bumbling around in the sultry noonday heat trying to find a train station.

My intention had been to go to the station and buy a ticket to Chiang Mai, an altogether more northern and hence cooler city. It is thirty-something degrees here at the moment - and the humidity makes it feel a lot more. On my way there I stumbled upon the Chinese quarter and got lost down Sampeng Lane - a crowded Soi with shops and market stalls lining each side. They sell all species of item from the mundane to things I'd previously not imagined anyone could find a use for. Shoes, cloth, gold, iced fruit from wheeled trolleys, all manner of unidentifiable fried food, plastic bags full of ice and fruit juice complete with a straw, rice, blow up red plastic hearts - it was all here. I even saw one shop stocked with thousands of sheets of brightly coloured cartoon character stickers. Incredibly people attempt to ride scooters up and down this street. Often there is scarcely enough room for two people to pass each other but somehow the riders manage to navigate their scooters and their precarious loads (200 kg of rice, a sofa etc.) between the stalls and people, leaving a trail of choking, blue exhaust fumes behind.

I finally emerged from Sampeng Lane into a strange part of Chinatown. When in India I had been intrigued by the number of shops that sold things that only other businesses would want to buy: steel ingots or curious pieces of machinery, for example. In the UK this would all happen behind closed doors rather than in your average shopping mall. In this part of Chinatown I discovered specialised shops and even some that sold only one kind of item, be it drums of steel cable, sheet metal, brass ingots, pipes, electric motors or pressure gauges. I even saw one shop that stocked one item, and nothing else: wheel valves, stacked up high. The sort of wheel valves you usually see in action films where the eponymous hero struggles to turn a small wheel connected to a ruptured pipe that is venting a dramatic jet of steam. Here there were thousands of them - is there really such a large demand for wheel valves?

I did make it to the station in the end and bought my ticket to Chiang Mai. I feel cooler already, but there is more of Bangkok still to explore before I can escape the heat.