While metropolises are often described as ‘concrete jungles’, in the case of Bangkok it may be more apt to speak of ‘concrete in the jungle’. Built largely in the 1970s, the Thai capital is saturated with this modest, inexpensive, practical material: underfoot, on façades, and even overhead, where the heavy elevated tracks of the Skytrain obscure the sun. Yet this concrete world is streaked with exuberant growth. The tropical humidity of the Chao Phraya floodplain allows flora to flourish, as ficus creepers and climbing vines thread their way through cracks in the cement. It is this unlikely overlay that gives the city its harmony: an orthogonal frame, continually colonised by bursts of verdant wildness.