An afternoon of jazz, heavy rain and crate digging at Bungkumhouse Record Store in Bangkok.
I've been to Bangkok four or five times this year. I've honestly lost count. But one thing I haven't lost track of is how often I find myself back at Bungkumhouse Record Store.
I discovered it earlier this year and have been returning ever since.
It's not the easiest place to find. I remember my first visit, walking up and down Thonglor, repeatedly missing the little soi where it's tucked away. Eventually I found the entrance, made my way through the gate and up the stairs, and there it was. A room filled with records.
Nothing flashy. Nothing particularly polished. Just hundreds of records waiting to be discovered.
My kind of place.
A Sunday with nowhere to be
My favourite visit was in September. I was in Bangkok for work but had the rare luxury of a Sunday entirely to myself. No meetings, no schedule, no one needing anything from me.
Naturally, I went record shopping.
I was walking along Thonglor when the owner of Bungkumhouse happened to pass me on the street. He stopped and asked whether I'd be visiting the shop that day.
It made me smile.
Apparently, I've become enough of a regular to be recognised outside the store. I told him I'd definitely be popping in a little later.
And I did.
I'd planned to spend an hour or so browsing, but Bangkok had other ideas.
The rain started coming down heavily. Proper tropical rain. The kind that makes you abandon whatever plans you had and accept that you're staying exactly where you are.
I joked with the owner, "Well, there could be worse places to be stuck because of the rain."
And I meant it.
Jazz was playing, the rain was pouring outside, and I was surrounded by hundreds of records with absolutely nowhere else I needed to be.
Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better afternoon.
Music utopia.
For the real collectors
I'd been to the Bangkok Vinyl Fair the night before, so I asked the owner why he hadn't participated.
His answer made me laugh.
He said it made more sense to keep his shop open for the real collectors than to spend the day at some fair.
Fair enough.
I appreciated his honesty. There's something quite refreshing about someone who knows exactly what their shop is and who it's for.
And that probably explains why I keep returning.
Bungkumhouse has an old, lived-in feeling that I absolutely love. The owner almost blends into the records. He's quiet, unassuming and doesn't feel the need to make conversation unless you initiate it.
Which, for someone like me who loves browsing in peace, is perfect.
No hovering. No sales pitch. No unnecessary small talk.
Just music.
The pleasure of getting lost
I think that's what I love most about record stores like this.
You arrive with absolutely no idea what you'll find. You might recognise an album you've been looking for, stumble across something you've never heard of, or spend twenty minutes examining a record only to put it back and start digging again.
There's no rush.
And in a city like Bangkok, where there's always something happening, somewhere to go and something demanding your attention, finding a place that makes you want to slow down feels pretty special.
I eventually left with a few great records to add to my collection and that familiar feeling of having spent an afternoon exactly how I wanted to.
I'll keep returning to Bungkumhouse whenever I'm in Bangkok.
Not just for the records, although they're obviously a big part of it.
But for the atmosphere. The quiet. The jazz. The slightly hidden location. And an owner who seems perfectly content to let the music do the talking.
If you're ever in Bangkok and fancy escaping the city for a little while, find your way to Bungkumhouse Record Store.
Take your time.
And if it starts raining, even better.