I see his feet before I take in his face; sports sandals that have seen much better days, although pretty clean toes for the streets of Bangkok. He’s wearing what I call traveller trousers, the sort on sale at every Southeast Asian tourist market for the equivalent of a few quid, baggy on the legs with elasticated ankles and waist. They’re worn by backpackers from the moment they arrive until the moment they get home, and then demoted to pyjamas. Justin’s are petrol blue, patterned with circles and grey elephants. His t-shirt is plain black, his smooth arms slim, muscular. Dark stubble covers his chin, his jawline; his deep brown eyes are squinting with concern.

‘Feeling better?’ he asks, crouching down to my level.

‘Thanks,’ I say, in a state of confusion. ‘I’m not sure what just happened.’

‘I don’t know either. I’m sorry if I frightened you.’

‘No, no, you didn’t. I’m grateful.’

‘Drink a little more water – it always helps.’

‘I think I need to go back to me hotel,’ I say, standing, although a little shaky. ‘It’s kind of manic out here.’

‘Your first time in Bangkok?’

‘First time alone.’

I’m on the verge of tears, my dignity shot. I hand the water bottle back to Justin, who pushes out his lips and declines, telling me to keep it.

‘Do you wanna get a proper drink?’ I ask, surprising myself with the suggestion.

Justin gives a relaxed shrug. ‘Sure. Around here?’

‘No, the hotel I’m staying at has a happy hour that should be called happy “any” hour. It’s also got a hot tub. Not that it’s cold outside, clearly; but you know, what are holidays for if you can’t get drunk in a swimming cozzie?’

He laughs, although I’ve no clue whether he’s laughing at me or with me. I’m going to take a wild guess that he finds my accent funny.

‘Swimmin’ cozzie!’ he tries to imitate.

I guessed right.

The tuk-tuk ride to the Asia Palace Hotel is filled with pleasantries, comments about cool places either of us have already been to in this city. I mention the green curry, and of course, Justin has his own – equally as amazing if not better – recommendation. He’s yet to see the Ladyboys of Bangkok and hasn’t made up his mind about spending the money on it. I say it’s kind of impressive, but a lot of miming to show tunes. I think I’ve put him off. We pass the Siam Garden Grand, a more upmarket hotel, and Justin points out that that’s where he stayed for his first three nights. Fancy. He’s now in more modest accommodation near the Khao San Road.

‘I plan to be travelling for a long time,’ he says. ‘And money doesn’t grow on trees.’