Thailand, Pattaya,
20 Jan. 2011.
" Gilling-Gilling", Marianne keeps telling both Miss Jiff and Miss Ang who are munching away on barbecued chicken legs, orange colored hotel provided towels wrapped around the lith Asian bodies, giggling at the Tagalog word for Bam-Bam....maybe my Tagalog has gone down reall fast since my three two month dive master jobs in the Phillipines quite a few years ago, nor did it progress much beyond this illustrious Asian word but it is definitely not lost on my Farang mind...
I have three female visitors now each night and often in the afternoon when they come over for a shower and posing sessions with the walls of my room covered in drawing paper the size of the Bangkok Post newspaper pages, black lines the beginning of a dozen nudes, plastic jars with paint placed at random around the floor, some pensils and dirty laundry piled up against one wall...
Outside the s*xual galaxy that is Pattaya is in full swing at this nighttime hour just past midnight, attracting all sorts of mostly male characters from across the globe, on a quest for Thai P*ssy, s*x at inflated prices and a whole lot of booze thrown in at equally cheap Baht to bolster the male s*xual appetite, if not their nerves...
German Krauts that speak English like it comes out of a rusty old and empty can of Chang, pale faces that look a bit like boiled poatatoes betray me they have just recently arrived...
Elderly Poms and Rileys that have probably spent most of their younger years wh*ring across the globe, in and out of the slammer before dicovering the heaven that is Pattaya for a determined John...or at least so they claim...
My lady visitors are gossiping in a mix of Thai, simplified English and recently learned words of Tagalog, a small bottle of Black Cat whiskey, a bag of ice cubes, two alu cans of Coca Cola and several cans of Leo as a present to me, a dozen barbecued chicken legs to satisfy hungry Hot Momma bellies...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
A Phillipino Hunting Girl in Pattaya.
Thailand, Pattaya,
19 Jan. 2011.
Something is definitely out of shape with this forty year old Hot momma, happily taking swigs from my big bottle of Leo, talking to me in a strange mix of non Thai accented English and...well, whatever..my question "Khun Phut Phasa Isan, dai Nee", " do you speak the Isan dialect" only provokes bland stares and more gibberish mixed with weird Englsih that sounds familiar and at the same time like Khee Mha as the Thais would say...
Her eyes lack that sparkle that can enslave any first timers to this Numero Uno party place where every vice known to man is available at inflated prices, no way a recently divorced German males is gonna get drowned in these lack-lustre brown female shiners, occupy his every thought and will make the alimony check for next month's payment for the white ex-misses in the Sauerkraut and Bratwurst home country swindle out of his sweat drenched shorts reall fast, court order or no court order...
Then there is this smell of unwashed clothes and stale urine permeating out of her red colored dress, Pas De D'argent and beach sleeping aplenty notwithstanding, somehow these Pattaya boulevard ladies always manage to get themselves at least one daily shower, get their clothes hand washed if necessary, a touch of make-up,,,well, the usual female stuff to attract the male Farang counterpart you know...
Not this lady who tells me she is actually a Phillipino Hunting Girl whose Irish boyfriend took her to Thailand then left her alone, running off with a much younger Thai Hot Momma, visa overstay and hopelessly lost in the Land Of Smiles...forty years old in a strange country, holds no currency and not a single word of Thai, scared of the bloody local Thamruat and no return ticket to Cebu City...
I suppose I have always been a s*cker for a pretty woman's face, an easy victim for a poor female heart, inviting her over to my New Star guesthouse room, knowing fully well big Khee Mha is in the making here when Miss Jiff and/or Miss Ang will end up customer negative tonight, looking for a place to crash, unwilling to share with a Phillipino Hunting Girl and all that...
19 Jan. 2011.
Something is definitely out of shape with this forty year old Hot momma, happily taking swigs from my big bottle of Leo, talking to me in a strange mix of non Thai accented English and...well, whatever..my question "Khun Phut Phasa Isan, dai Nee", " do you speak the Isan dialect" only provokes bland stares and more gibberish mixed with weird Englsih that sounds familiar and at the same time like Khee Mha as the Thais would say...
Her eyes lack that sparkle that can enslave any first timers to this Numero Uno party place where every vice known to man is available at inflated prices, no way a recently divorced German males is gonna get drowned in these lack-lustre brown female shiners, occupy his every thought and will make the alimony check for next month's payment for the white ex-misses in the Sauerkraut and Bratwurst home country swindle out of his sweat drenched shorts reall fast, court order or no court order...
Then there is this smell of unwashed clothes and stale urine permeating out of her red colored dress, Pas De D'argent and beach sleeping aplenty notwithstanding, somehow these Pattaya boulevard ladies always manage to get themselves at least one daily shower, get their clothes hand washed if necessary, a touch of make-up,,,well, the usual female stuff to attract the male Farang counterpart you know...
Not this lady who tells me she is actually a Phillipino Hunting Girl whose Irish boyfriend took her to Thailand then left her alone, running off with a much younger Thai Hot Momma, visa overstay and hopelessly lost in the Land Of Smiles...forty years old in a strange country, holds no currency and not a single word of Thai, scared of the bloody local Thamruat and no return ticket to Cebu City...
I suppose I have always been a s*cker for a pretty woman's face, an easy victim for a poor female heart, inviting her over to my New Star guesthouse room, knowing fully well big Khee Mha is in the making here when Miss Jiff and/or Miss Ang will end up customer negative tonight, looking for a place to crash, unwilling to share with a Phillipino Hunting Girl and all that...
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Na Wai, Lang Kok
Thailand, Pattaya,
18 Jan. 2011.
Outside in the corridor a verbal fight is in full swing, judging by the high pitched voice of one combatant I would say a Khatoy, the other probably belonging to a elderly German male speaking poor English and refusing to pay the 500 Baht shorttime on the grounds of being dissatified with sexual services rendered...
Outside in the Soi I can hear a party going on in the beer bar next door, raucous Englsih lagerlouds, drunk on numerous bottles of Thai beer, singing along with Dolly Parton, the giggles of bar girls probably equally smashed outof the Isan heads on ladies drinks, sing along but as badly out of tune as the English males who will probably take them home tonight, pay their bar fees and a couple of big bottles of Chang from the 7/Eleven at the end of the road on the way to their hotel rooms, maybe a Viagra pill already bought subscripsion free from the Soi's farmacy in the pocket of their shorts...
I feel unable to give in to the tender arms of Lord Morpheus, the God of the dream world though my visitors don't seem to suffer from my bouts of insomnia despite the growing verbal discussion outside, despite Dolly Parton next door and her devotees of falsetto intoxicated Bravados...Miss Jiff deep asleep in a feutus position next to me, her friend Miss Ang who Waiied me profusely when entering my room, snoring happily on my army green sleeping bag on the stone floor next to my double bed...
Sitting outside on my balcony enjoying a glass of Mhekong brought along by Jiff and her Buriram lady friend, ice and a shot of Coca Cola added, a few cubes of ice to make it glide my Farang throat a bit easier, I ponder my Farang excistence in this strange Asian Kingdom, as I have done countless times before, with my room more aften than not a gathering place for under-educated ladies of the night, Hot Asian Mommas who feel unwilling to sleep on the beach due to being customer negative...
Wondering if Miss Ang's Wai was one of genuine gratitude or full with contempt for this Ting-Tong ameteur artist from the Rich West..even today, after all these years of coming to King Bhumipol's Asian Realm, I still have a hard time understanding the Thai concept of Na Wai, Lang Lok...smile in the Farang's face while really thinking Mhaa Khee, shit of the dog!!!
In the past I have travelled to quite a few tropical countries, got to learn the local Lingo, get to scratch the cultural and social surfaces, but nothing like Thailand and its inscrutable population, the more I dig the more difficult they get to become to my poor Farang gray colored brain mass...
The whisky finished, the Khatoy heading down the stairs with his precious 500 Baht shorttime leaving a swearing German customer behind, English lagerlouds staggering back to their hotels, supported down the Soi by semi-drunk bar girls wondering how much money their Farang dates will pay them in the morning, I return to my room finding Miss Ang has upgraded her place on the floor to my side of the double bed...I guess my old sleeping bag and me are old buddies after all!!!
18 Jan. 2011.
Outside in the corridor a verbal fight is in full swing, judging by the high pitched voice of one combatant I would say a Khatoy, the other probably belonging to a elderly German male speaking poor English and refusing to pay the 500 Baht shorttime on the grounds of being dissatified with sexual services rendered...
Outside in the Soi I can hear a party going on in the beer bar next door, raucous Englsih lagerlouds, drunk on numerous bottles of Thai beer, singing along with Dolly Parton, the giggles of bar girls probably equally smashed outof the Isan heads on ladies drinks, sing along but as badly out of tune as the English males who will probably take them home tonight, pay their bar fees and a couple of big bottles of Chang from the 7/Eleven at the end of the road on the way to their hotel rooms, maybe a Viagra pill already bought subscripsion free from the Soi's farmacy in the pocket of their shorts...
I feel unable to give in to the tender arms of Lord Morpheus, the God of the dream world though my visitors don't seem to suffer from my bouts of insomnia despite the growing verbal discussion outside, despite Dolly Parton next door and her devotees of falsetto intoxicated Bravados...Miss Jiff deep asleep in a feutus position next to me, her friend Miss Ang who Waiied me profusely when entering my room, snoring happily on my army green sleeping bag on the stone floor next to my double bed...
Sitting outside on my balcony enjoying a glass of Mhekong brought along by Jiff and her Buriram lady friend, ice and a shot of Coca Cola added, a few cubes of ice to make it glide my Farang throat a bit easier, I ponder my Farang excistence in this strange Asian Kingdom, as I have done countless times before, with my room more aften than not a gathering place for under-educated ladies of the night, Hot Asian Mommas who feel unwilling to sleep on the beach due to being customer negative...
Wondering if Miss Ang's Wai was one of genuine gratitude or full with contempt for this Ting-Tong ameteur artist from the Rich West..even today, after all these years of coming to King Bhumipol's Asian Realm, I still have a hard time understanding the Thai concept of Na Wai, Lang Lok...smile in the Farang's face while really thinking Mhaa Khee, shit of the dog!!!
In the past I have travelled to quite a few tropical countries, got to learn the local Lingo, get to scratch the cultural and social surfaces, but nothing like Thailand and its inscrutable population, the more I dig the more difficult they get to become to my poor Farang gray colored brain mass...
The whisky finished, the Khatoy heading down the stairs with his precious 500 Baht shorttime leaving a swearing German customer behind, English lagerlouds staggering back to their hotels, supported down the Soi by semi-drunk bar girls wondering how much money their Farang dates will pay them in the morning, I return to my room finding Miss Ang has upgraded her place on the floor to my side of the double bed...I guess my old sleeping bag and me are old buddies after all!!!
Monday, January 17, 2011
We all have to fulfill our destinies!!!
Thailand, Pattaya,
17 Jan. 2011.
The rice is boiling in a wok inside a a smoking wok placed over on the top of an earthenware pot filled with burning charcoal, hungry young Isan women just having returned from the boulevard, are squating around it, some of them eating Som Yam from plastic plates, other waiting patiently for the rice to be ready, pigeons hop around anxiously, picking at some grains of rice...
The bar across the road from my habitual place outside the New Star Guesthouse, is housing some fat Germans morosely staring down there pints of Heineken, the cylindrical wooden cups next to their beer bottles and half filled glasses, are stuffed with bills, some slips of myriad show me they have had the courtesy of paying some ladies' drinks though it ain't evening yet..most of them already into their pension allowed age with thin gray hair and protruding well groomed beer bellies, bar girls swarming around them, willing to please European lone males on wintering in the Male Kingdom called Pattaya...
Hard to believe some of these young ladies, hardly past their adolescence years, were only mere months ago planting and harvesting the rice crops under a harsh Isan sun, maybe involved in the intence work of pounding fruit together to create natuarl dyes for the Thai cotton industry, maybe working the construction sites in Bangkok carrying bricks up the wooden scaffolding...
Now they are giggling and laughing at stupid elderly men's yokes who are semi drunk already and will probably be well intoxicated by nightfall, ignorant of the bills piling up in these wooden cups...
I am in the company of Miss Jiff, an old friend from the "scene", who has just returned from a family trip to Korat and has played the game of Cupid and Stupid for well over 20 years..with her skinny frame, serious overbite and roundish monkey face she never had the luck of finding herself a Farang sugar daddy, returning each and every year and sending her some sort of monthy allowance each month, a walking sort of ATM machine and so much looked after by these undereducated, impoveriched and superstitious ladies of the night...
She is waiting for me to have my afternoon power nap so she can watch her beloved Star Trek episode of the day on the SYFY channel, maybe have a much needed shower and convince me sleeping on the beach really isn't her cup of Thai tea...
I guess we all have to fulfill our destinies!!!
17 Jan. 2011.
The rice is boiling in a wok inside a a smoking wok placed over on the top of an earthenware pot filled with burning charcoal, hungry young Isan women just having returned from the boulevard, are squating around it, some of them eating Som Yam from plastic plates, other waiting patiently for the rice to be ready, pigeons hop around anxiously, picking at some grains of rice...
The bar across the road from my habitual place outside the New Star Guesthouse, is housing some fat Germans morosely staring down there pints of Heineken, the cylindrical wooden cups next to their beer bottles and half filled glasses, are stuffed with bills, some slips of myriad show me they have had the courtesy of paying some ladies' drinks though it ain't evening yet..most of them already into their pension allowed age with thin gray hair and protruding well groomed beer bellies, bar girls swarming around them, willing to please European lone males on wintering in the Male Kingdom called Pattaya...
Hard to believe some of these young ladies, hardly past their adolescence years, were only mere months ago planting and harvesting the rice crops under a harsh Isan sun, maybe involved in the intence work of pounding fruit together to create natuarl dyes for the Thai cotton industry, maybe working the construction sites in Bangkok carrying bricks up the wooden scaffolding...
Now they are giggling and laughing at stupid elderly men's yokes who are semi drunk already and will probably be well intoxicated by nightfall, ignorant of the bills piling up in these wooden cups...
I am in the company of Miss Jiff, an old friend from the "scene", who has just returned from a family trip to Korat and has played the game of Cupid and Stupid for well over 20 years..with her skinny frame, serious overbite and roundish monkey face she never had the luck of finding herself a Farang sugar daddy, returning each and every year and sending her some sort of monthy allowance each month, a walking sort of ATM machine and so much looked after by these undereducated, impoveriched and superstitious ladies of the night...
She is waiting for me to have my afternoon power nap so she can watch her beloved Star Trek episode of the day on the SYFY channel, maybe have a much needed shower and convince me sleeping on the beach really isn't her cup of Thai tea...
I guess we all have to fulfill our destinies!!!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Waking up in a dump house
Thailand, Pattaya,
16 Jan. 2011.
I wake up to a female hand, pudgy fingers groping underneath the orange colored hotel provided towel wrapped around my waist... though still snoring Nong's hand is allready on the move betraying me she has got a wed dream, probably remembering last night's little party after our dinner date at the Nana nighttime food market...
I have a faque image of Nong sending a motorbike taxi rider to the Nat Two Guesthouse at Khao Sarn road with my room key and my passport, telling him to pick up my old and worn backpack, showing me the 160 Baht, ten o'clock bus ticket from the Akemai bus station for today, I remember our walk back to Soi 23, both of us very much in need of fresh air - wheter it be possible to get fresh air in Bangkok I leave to the reader's imagination - maybe we really needed that short walk to clear our heads instead...
I leave Nong with her dreams of lust and carnal inclinations, dressing quietly, shouledring my backpack, my long time travel frien, taking the bus ticket and the bank slip - the inetrnet proof of one week free of charge at the New Star guesthouse located on Soi Honey-Inn, courtesy of Nong, or maybe her Norwegian sugar daddy Per who is probably waking up right now wondering where the heck his Thai house keeping nurse is, the administrator of his fat wallet full with Scandinavian Kronor, Norwegian Pensionaer Penge used for a free bus ticket and a week at the New Star...
The corridor of this dumphouse betrays me the true nature of this hotel, a place where the rooms go by the hour or are else occupied by bar girls from Nana Plaza and equally rowdy Soi Cowboy which is just around the corner from Nana's...
An ancient looking washing machine with a plastic bin full with obvious female clothing, I sidestep a pink bra and even more intimate ladies garments lying at random around this rusty old monster, crates full with empty beer bottles stapled on top of each other line the walls, the sounds of a Gecko on the prowl, some human produced screams coming from one of the rooms telling me that some of the girls living in these tiny rooms took their customers home last night, a scrawny cat's head emerges from the plastic clothes' bin, sleepy feline eyes watch me curiously, more interested in me that in the erotic sounds of humans making out...
Though I still have plenty of time to catch my bus I opt for a motorbike taxi, remembering vividly how any five minutes walk in this Asian sweltering capital can break the perspiration out of my Farang pores in huge rivulets, floods of salty and alcohol rich sweat that will leave me soaked to the bone and chillingly cold in my bus to Pattaya...
16 Jan. 2011.
I wake up to a female hand, pudgy fingers groping underneath the orange colored hotel provided towel wrapped around my waist... though still snoring Nong's hand is allready on the move betraying me she has got a wed dream, probably remembering last night's little party after our dinner date at the Nana nighttime food market...
I have a faque image of Nong sending a motorbike taxi rider to the Nat Two Guesthouse at Khao Sarn road with my room key and my passport, telling him to pick up my old and worn backpack, showing me the 160 Baht, ten o'clock bus ticket from the Akemai bus station for today, I remember our walk back to Soi 23, both of us very much in need of fresh air - wheter it be possible to get fresh air in Bangkok I leave to the reader's imagination - maybe we really needed that short walk to clear our heads instead...
I leave Nong with her dreams of lust and carnal inclinations, dressing quietly, shouledring my backpack, my long time travel frien, taking the bus ticket and the bank slip - the inetrnet proof of one week free of charge at the New Star guesthouse located on Soi Honey-Inn, courtesy of Nong, or maybe her Norwegian sugar daddy Per who is probably waking up right now wondering where the heck his Thai house keeping nurse is, the administrator of his fat wallet full with Scandinavian Kronor, Norwegian Pensionaer Penge used for a free bus ticket and a week at the New Star...
The corridor of this dumphouse betrays me the true nature of this hotel, a place where the rooms go by the hour or are else occupied by bar girls from Nana Plaza and equally rowdy Soi Cowboy which is just around the corner from Nana's...
An ancient looking washing machine with a plastic bin full with obvious female clothing, I sidestep a pink bra and even more intimate ladies garments lying at random around this rusty old monster, crates full with empty beer bottles stapled on top of each other line the walls, the sounds of a Gecko on the prowl, some human produced screams coming from one of the rooms telling me that some of the girls living in these tiny rooms took their customers home last night, a scrawny cat's head emerges from the plastic clothes' bin, sleepy feline eyes watch me curiously, more interested in me that in the erotic sounds of humans making out...
Though I still have plenty of time to catch my bus I opt for a motorbike taxi, remembering vividly how any five minutes walk in this Asian sweltering capital can break the perspiration out of my Farang pores in huge rivulets, floods of salty and alcohol rich sweat that will leave me soaked to the bone and chillingly cold in my bus to Pattaya...
Saturday, January 15, 2011
A dinner date with Nong at the Nana's
Thailand, Pattaya,
15 Jan. 2011.
The Nana Plaza food market is still quiet, slowly preparing for the 02.00 h. Bangkok bar curfew, hordes of starving bar girls with empty bellies and desperate to exchange the latest gossip... if their bar fee hasn't been paid by some fat bellied semi-drunk Farang from Europe though...
The open air beer bars, sheltered from the notorious Bangkok traffic pollution by a semi-circle of man-sized potted plants, their cutomers still trying to make up their Farang minds which lady of the night is worth their 200 to 500 Baht bar fee, sitting at steel tables under thatched and wooden roofs that protect them from rain and sun alike...
I take it all in though it being so familiar after my numerous trip to this sweltering mega metropole, trying hard to ignore Nong's foot, clad in expensive leathery Gucci high-heeled platform shoes, creeping slowly up my tighs underneath our table...she is cleaning the last meat of her barbecued chicken leg with her perfectly white teeth, having already told me she has paid for a small room off Soi 23 where I have no doubt she wants to continue our little evening date...
Per, her Norwegian sugar daddy back at the Shangria-La Hotel, is probably already fast asleep and most likely totally unaware of his Thai Tilac's carnal interests in poor Moi tonight...
My favorite Thai dish, Khao Pat Khong already down my belly, making serious work of my half liter condensed bottle of Leo while Nong is drinks a small bottle of her own favorite, Regency Whiskey with cubes of ice and a diet coke added, a bit of energy drink as well to get her mind set on the upcoming ocassion we have planned at Soi 23...
From somewhere I can hear the rings of a, usually beribboned, bar bell, announcing yet another drunk Farang customer with too much Thai Baht in his wallet, wanting to pay a bar round...
A small Buddha shrine sitting on the branch of a Bodi tree, small plastic cups of Black Cat whiskey. a bottle of soda and tiny bols of boiled rice in front of this holy stone figuerine the evidence of a Isan Hot Momma's religious ansd superstitious convictions...
Only my second night in the Kingdom but already being in full swing!!!
15 Jan. 2011.
The Nana Plaza food market is still quiet, slowly preparing for the 02.00 h. Bangkok bar curfew, hordes of starving bar girls with empty bellies and desperate to exchange the latest gossip... if their bar fee hasn't been paid by some fat bellied semi-drunk Farang from Europe though...
The open air beer bars, sheltered from the notorious Bangkok traffic pollution by a semi-circle of man-sized potted plants, their cutomers still trying to make up their Farang minds which lady of the night is worth their 200 to 500 Baht bar fee, sitting at steel tables under thatched and wooden roofs that protect them from rain and sun alike...
I take it all in though it being so familiar after my numerous trip to this sweltering mega metropole, trying hard to ignore Nong's foot, clad in expensive leathery Gucci high-heeled platform shoes, creeping slowly up my tighs underneath our table...she is cleaning the last meat of her barbecued chicken leg with her perfectly white teeth, having already told me she has paid for a small room off Soi 23 where I have no doubt she wants to continue our little evening date...
Per, her Norwegian sugar daddy back at the Shangria-La Hotel, is probably already fast asleep and most likely totally unaware of his Thai Tilac's carnal interests in poor Moi tonight...
My favorite Thai dish, Khao Pat Khong already down my belly, making serious work of my half liter condensed bottle of Leo while Nong is drinks a small bottle of her own favorite, Regency Whiskey with cubes of ice and a diet coke added, a bit of energy drink as well to get her mind set on the upcoming ocassion we have planned at Soi 23...
From somewhere I can hear the rings of a, usually beribboned, bar bell, announcing yet another drunk Farang customer with too much Thai Baht in his wallet, wanting to pay a bar round...
A small Buddha shrine sitting on the branch of a Bodi tree, small plastic cups of Black Cat whiskey. a bottle of soda and tiny bols of boiled rice in front of this holy stone figuerine the evidence of a Isan Hot Momma's religious ansd superstitious convictions...
Only my second night in the Kingdom but already being in full swing!!!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Back in Bangkok, back in Khao Sarn Road
Thailand, Bangkok,
13 Jan. 2011.
The strong smell of black tabacco is doing a little Hunkpapa Sioux wardance insde my nostrils, having a small skermish withe the equally strong spicy smells of Pat Tai Chicken sold all over Khao Sarn Road at make shift fast food stalls...the smoker of this typically Thai tabacco rolled in strips of local newspaper, a hilltribe woman in tradional garb, hung with trincklets, Hmong iron earrings in the form of the Holy Elefant and a colorfull Hmong hat decorated with shining coins, eyes me shrewdly, her gums dark yellow due to a life time of beetle chewing, scaning my Farang face por possible interest in her little ambulant street business. For a short moment I detect the hand wrapped Bhurmese sigars I am so fond off but I manage to ignore yet another addiction in my life, instead hurrying on to the Gecko Bar in Soi Rambuttri, the place to go for people watching while enjoying a big bottle of Leo beer, cold to the touch, maybe get into a conversation with fellow backpackers about the ins and outs of this Asian kingdom, mystic and captivating even after all these visits, never mind King Bhumipol Himself has been in the hospital for the last two years, artificially being kept alive to avoid yet another uproar of the dregs of Thai society against the established succes of the Krung Thep Amataya - the Bangkok elite...
The Khao Sarn road is The backpackers mekka in the whole of Asia with numerous travel agencies, Internet cafes full to overflow with international mostly young travellers, Swedes with a serious suntan, half drunk rowdy Germans and totally smashed English lagerlouds who run around the place taking constants swigs from half liter bottles of Chang bought at the 7/Eleven or maybe Mart Supermarket, loud mouthed big *ssed female Israelis who have just retired from a two year stint in their army and demand to know of me the location of the Riverview Hotel, where to get off the 150 Baht airport bus downtown...
The Thais themselves whose lingo is so difficult to grasp though I tend to do better with each trip, their open character taking in first time visitors but never showing their real inner emotions, their coyless attitude to the number one sextrade of southeast Asia stunning even the most open minded johns who have heard all about it but blush in the face upon their first arrival, however get to learn the rules mightily fast...
I wonder if I should hit the Shukumvit nightlife later on, risking my very life taking a motorbike taxi or maybe turn in early, prepare for tomorrow's meeting with Nong, sleep the sleep of the innocent in a mega city where everything goes...
13 Jan. 2011.
The strong smell of black tabacco is doing a little Hunkpapa Sioux wardance insde my nostrils, having a small skermish withe the equally strong spicy smells of Pat Tai Chicken sold all over Khao Sarn Road at make shift fast food stalls...the smoker of this typically Thai tabacco rolled in strips of local newspaper, a hilltribe woman in tradional garb, hung with trincklets, Hmong iron earrings in the form of the Holy Elefant and a colorfull Hmong hat decorated with shining coins, eyes me shrewdly, her gums dark yellow due to a life time of beetle chewing, scaning my Farang face por possible interest in her little ambulant street business. For a short moment I detect the hand wrapped Bhurmese sigars I am so fond off but I manage to ignore yet another addiction in my life, instead hurrying on to the Gecko Bar in Soi Rambuttri, the place to go for people watching while enjoying a big bottle of Leo beer, cold to the touch, maybe get into a conversation with fellow backpackers about the ins and outs of this Asian kingdom, mystic and captivating even after all these visits, never mind King Bhumipol Himself has been in the hospital for the last two years, artificially being kept alive to avoid yet another uproar of the dregs of Thai society against the established succes of the Krung Thep Amataya - the Bangkok elite...
The Khao Sarn road is The backpackers mekka in the whole of Asia with numerous travel agencies, Internet cafes full to overflow with international mostly young travellers, Swedes with a serious suntan, half drunk rowdy Germans and totally smashed English lagerlouds who run around the place taking constants swigs from half liter bottles of Chang bought at the 7/Eleven or maybe Mart Supermarket, loud mouthed big *ssed female Israelis who have just retired from a two year stint in their army and demand to know of me the location of the Riverview Hotel, where to get off the 150 Baht airport bus downtown...
The Thais themselves whose lingo is so difficult to grasp though I tend to do better with each trip, their open character taking in first time visitors but never showing their real inner emotions, their coyless attitude to the number one sextrade of southeast Asia stunning even the most open minded johns who have heard all about it but blush in the face upon their first arrival, however get to learn the rules mightily fast...
I wonder if I should hit the Shukumvit nightlife later on, risking my very life taking a motorbike taxi or maybe turn in early, prepare for tomorrow's meeting with Nong, sleep the sleep of the innocent in a mega city where everything goes...
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