Bangkok is partly famous for its trade in the mercenary side of love, both covert and overt. The former is evident in the sheer number of hugely overweight, bald, sweating white men who have somehow convinced themselves that their Thai wife/partner loves them for their inner beauty. These are the sort who moan that western women are not as "well mannered" or "caring" as the "ladylike" Thai. What they mean is that the Thai will provide unquestioning worship and pander to their own belief in their lack of faults, in particular their refusal to bother to take care of themselves or help out around the house. Which is why their "unreasonable" western wives have left them. And the Thai is there for one reason and one reason only.
Which brings us to sex tourism. It accounts for 10% of Bangkok's revenue from oversees visitors. Again mostly from despicable types similar to that described above although a lot of the "pussy with such-and-such" shows are frequented by gorillaesque youths. Who think it's just a bit of fun.
Wake-up call: none of the girls, or boys, are there because they want to be. A lot will have been conned into it eg Laos women who come to Bangkok with promises of work in restaurants. And the ones smiling and beckoning you in to join the fun and looking like they're enjoying it? They're faking it. All of it.
When Sara and I arrived we headed to Khao San road which is Bangkok's backpacker district. After renting a very cheap room for the night (£4 for a double. It was very grungy though...) we headed out to explore. The main road was heaving with stalls selling everything an enthusiastic backpacker could possibly want, from T-shirts emblazoned with marijuana plants to ethnic skirts. Either side were restaurants, or glorified feeding troughs, and the rather tragic sight of rows of open air chairs filled with tourists enjoying the "treat" of a cheap foot massage given by sad men and women too old and ugly to work anywhere better.
Sara and I hid from the hordes of sunburnt, maxiskirt wearing chavs in mcdonalds which, like most Asian branches, was surprisingly free of westerners and was instead peopled with Thai youths with funky haircuts and biker jackets.
I am very scathing of western tourists out here. Perhaps unfairly and even hypocritically so. I think it is because I am acutely aware that I am tarred with their brush. But the fact is that the average Thai in Bangkok is smartly dressed, slim, sober and, above all, normal. The average westerner is inappropriately dressed, unable to use suncream, embarrassingly overweight, about to get/already/ recently very drunk and ignorant. I don't want to be seen like that.
The next day Sara and I moved to a hostel in Silom district. I'd booked this hostel ages ago without really knowing anything about the city but luckily got a good location near a Skytrain station. It was, however, 3 times the price of the previous night's hole and while nice, not 3 times nice...
Sara and I spent our last day wandering around the Chinatown part (copious amounts of gold shops) which ended up with us getting very hot and bothered so we retreated to a park to cool down a bit. Bangkok is both hot and humid so it's difficult to walk too much. Then off to hide in some air conditioned mall. I tucked into some chicken and chips in the food court- making the most of cheap western food while I could lol.
In the evening Sara and I had our Treat. Originally we had planned to have a meal at whatever Bangkok's most prestigious restaurant was but it soon became apparent that we'd never get in as our smartest clothes consisted of jeans and flip-flops. So we had a manicure and pedicure instead. I say pedicure, it was more like a trip to the farrier's... My poor feet have racked up quite a mileage over the years and this coupled with continually being trampled by Exmoor ponies has left them a little... rough... However, the pedicurist set about with rasp and clippers and remarkably I emerged with perfectly respectable paws. Although it took a while for the poor woman to get my blue glitter nail varnish off from China:p I opted for tasteful pale pink and Sara for red.
For dinner we headed into Silom and ate at a bar with a live band and some premiership football on telly to keep us entertained. Then we explored Patpong market which is the main area of sleaze in Bangkok. And indeed there were lots of scantily clad youths beckoning us into go-go bars or offering us menus of sex shows. We didn't fancy watching some sad girl being inventive with a pingpong ball or paying the huge entrance fees for a gogo bar so we settled in one of the nicer bars and had a drink and got talking to a Dutch Jew selling clothes to China. Apparently the English are the worst to do business with...
Early next day, Sara left for Valencia. Originally I wasn't going to go to the airport with her but I changed my mind 60seconds after she'd left and pulled on some jeans and ran after her to go with her. It's difficult, being a single twin.
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