I'd been warned by my travelling companion over the 12 or so hours of flights and queues that preceded my arrival in Bangkok, that nothing can prepare you for the mass of humanity that is the Thai capital. But four or so hours into my 17-day stay here, I have to say that nothing this place has thrown at me so far has thrown me.
My experience of the streets has been so far limited to the view from the back seats of taxis, and while there is plenty to surprise, to me there's something about Bangkok that says Sydney on bad day, except without the Harbour Bridge, the Opera House and the seatbelts, and with ten times more smog, 50 times more cars and 100 times the humidity, if that is at all possible (Meteorologists please reply to feedback@sportal.com.au).
My journey here is about football but sadly not my own. That dream was shot down by my inability to take goal kicks as a high-school keeper, with the reflexes of a cat, but the left boot of James Manson.
The traditional afternoon storm reminded myself and Goughy of how tired we were, and so we ventured to the accreditation pickup hotel, a plush joint where all the AFC high rollers will be playing, and nowhere else. The day's great surprise was discovering a nice little bakery in our hotel lobby, and before he had even put tooth to bread, the big man was drawing up the reserved sign for his seat at the table for the next two and a bit weeks. The surprise, as it often is in this part of the world, was the price. Even in a semi-swanky hotel lobby, it was cheap.
I wish the same could be said for the wireless internet, which comes in at 600 baht for a 24-hour stint. That's about $22 (Goughy's calculations), which seems a bit rich in the scheme of things. But it's probably the only thing in the whole city which is 'over's, so I'll cop it for now.
So with Stuttgart's now infamous Relax Hotel a distant memory (the whole bathroom from that place would have fitted into this place's shower), it's a last chance to rest up before the onslaught begins on Friday. From then on, it will be hardly a backward step (Goughy's doctor said he wouldn't recommend the big man takes anything but sure steps forward while over here, but in racing parlance, he did pass the vet's inspection).
We will be hoping to bring you more than just fleeting impressions of this improbable mass of people which has coagulated to make one hell of a city, and use our multimedia capacity to give you an insight into the competition and the cities which play host to it. And of course, there'll be a dash of green and gold in everything, because after all, the reason we are here is because of the Socceroos.