Bangkok is a city of contrasts: royal palaces and Buddhist temples stand alongside busy roads, riverside neighbourhoods, markets and small workshops. The Chao Phraya River has long been central to the city’s life, carrying people and goods through a capital whose history reaches back to the trading communities of the Ayutthaya period. Yet it was not the monuments alone that drew my camera. I was interested in the life unfolding between them.
When my wife, daughter and I arrived in Bangkok, a vegetarian festival was taking place. We decided to visit Chinatown, both to explore its streets and to find something to eat. The festival brought a particular energy to the neighbourhood: vendors prepared food, people moved between stalls, and the streets were crowded with activity. For me, such moments offer the opportunity to photograph a city as its residents experience it.
Getting there was an adventure in itself. We travelled in a songthaew, a small truck adapted to carry passengers on benches in the back. It was crowded, and anyone wishing to get off pressed a button above their head. We then continued by passenger boat on the Chao Phraya River. Changing from road to water gave us a different view of Bangkok, a city where boats remain part of everyday transport.
In Chinatown, we tried fresh sugarcane juice and coconut water. Among the shops I noticed one filled with used vehicle parts. Sprockets and bearings were piled into what looked like a mountain of metal. I wondered how the owner could possibly find a particular part in such a collection. After asking permission, I photographed him and his extraordinary shop. Encounters like this are among the reasons I enjoy wandering without a fixed itinerary.
Food was another way of discovering Bangkok. We tasted pad Thai and tom yum and enjoyed the variety of dishes prepared at street stalls. Some offerings, including fried insects and crocodile, were unfamiliar enough that we chose not to try them. At Chatuchak Weekend Market, we returned several times for paella with mussels and shrimp prepared by a Spanish cook named Alfredo. Elsewhere we ate at restaurants on the water or stopped for grilled seafood along the street.
We also rode in tuk-tuks, the three-wheeled taxis that are such a visible part of the city’s traffic. But one of the most memorable scenes had nothing to do with transport or food. Near a fire station, barbers were shaving passers-by while loud music played. Someone invited me to take a seat as well. I declined, but I could not resist photographing the scene. It was spontaneous, humorous and entirely unexpected.
Bangkok’s Chinatown has a long history of Chinese settlement and trade, and its food traditions reflect generations of cultural exchange. During the vegetarian festival, this history becomes especially visible in the streets and kitchens. I did not set out to make a comprehensive record of the city. These photographs are fragments of our journey together: a river crossing, a crowded market, a workshop, a meal and an encounter that stayed in my memory.
Looking back, what I remember most is the freedom to move through the city with my family and to stop whenever something caught my attention. Bangkok gave me many such moments. The photographs in this series are my diary of the people, places and small surprises we encountered along the way.