Reporting from the aftermath: A first-hand account of the Bangkok bombing

A Thai soldier ropes off the scene after a bomb exploded outside a religious shrine in central Bangkok. Photo / Getty Images

NZME. News Service reporter Catherine Gaffaney had just arrived in Bangkok to start a six-week internship at the Bangkok Post. She reports from the aftermath of last night's explosion.

Earlier today I was relishing how easy it was to get around Bangkok.

I'd travelled to a few non-Western countries before but always with family, so I'd always had people looking out for me, making sure I was okay. Going to Thailand for a six-week internship at the Bangkok Post was thus an exciting, challenging - and daunting idea.

I arrived at 4.30am on Sunday, two days before at least one bomb at the Erawan Shrine ripped through the city centre, sending body parts flying and an eerie mix of panic and silence through the normally bustling city.

I first heard of the news through a Kiwi friend living in the United Kingdom.

About 8pm I was in my hostel learning - as backpackers do - a new drinking game. The game was interrupted by a Snapchat message, a worried face from my friend and the messsage "omg, are you okay??!!"

My reaction: Why wouldn't I be?

My fellow backpackers looked at me confused. I checked my phone and read the news. I then opened up Facebook and found several posts in Bangkok expat groups I'd joined.

I found minute-by-minute posts of what was happening - each revealing more chaos, more suspected deaths, injuries and more reports of potential news of foreigners involved.

A police cordon in place at the scene of the Bangkok bombing. Photo / Catherine Gaffaney, NZME

It was about 9pm at this point, two hours after the bombing, 2am in New Zealand. My journalistic instincts told me to go to the scene and take photos and find out as much as I could about what was happening. I was also thinking of my poor father back home worrying for my safety.

In the hostel around me, people were calling their families, letting them know they were okay; some were discussing if they'd make their train/flight/planned activities the next day, and all were trying to work out - mostly from foreign news websites - what had happened.

I called my Thai friend, who thought safety-wise I'd be okay as there were reports of Thai police and military there so I headed for a taxi, who refused to take me to the shrine. That meant walking, until a tuk tuk driver agreed to drive me there for far more than it should have cost.

Police at the scene of the bombing in Bangkok. Photo / Catherine Gaffaney, NZME

Once there, I was met with several uniformed Thai men, pointing aggressively to taxi drivers, tuk tuk drivers and pedestrians telling them to stay away.

There were people with confused faces in the streets. I was desperately trying to find out what had happened but the Thai police and military either didn't understand me or were not happy with telling a blonde-haired, blue-eyed tourist what was going on.

I took some pictures and sent a message to the Herald newsroom.

Their questions came thick and fast.

I knew then my slightly comfortable feelings of Bangkok were gone.

* Catherine Gaffaney is in Bangkok with support from the Asia New Zealand Foundation