After a 18 hour flight we took the commuter train from Don Mueang into town. Left and right of the train a whole new world emerged. Makeshift houses, shacks and stores sprawling between modern high rises and a mix of new and decaying infrastructure. It felt, smelt and looked like a city in one of my beloved cyberpunk paperbacks.

From huanglamphoo we wandered into the streets and not far away we stopped at a street corner with a food stall. They served noodle-soup. An improvised counter, plastic stools and tables. A few condiments, 3 different styles of noodles to choose from, but one broth. It looked as if the pot was on 24 hours, seven days a week.

While sitting there jet-lagged but happy, savouring that soup and watching motorcycle food stalls buying broth, I knew that this city and its food would stay with me. Over many more years and visits my love for the impromtu nature of the stalls and their delicious offerings deepened.

When I heard about the governments plans to close down the omnipresent street-food stalls and transform BKKs streets into something different supposedly modern, I immediately booked a plane ticket and spent nine days walking them, taking photographs of the carts and people before they are transformed in to something easier to commodify and control.

Color print on demand magazine with 99 plates.