The Koh San Road epiphany

When thinking about my ideal woman I'd always thought being able to drink a lot and being good at pool were pretty good attributes. Imagine my excitement then when I found a bar full of Thai prostitutes drinking gin by the bottle and playing pool in such short skirts, it was a pleasure to lose to them.

Imagine then, as I rounded the corner to say to Carrie "hey, meet my new friends!" finding her sitting surrounded by yet more working girls, gossiping away like old friends. They even shared the text messages they were getting from sad punters. It was good to see Ye Oldest Profession keeping uptodate. They must have been eProstitutes. I Love You Long Time is now the less catchy I Love You for One hour a month, plus 10 free text messages (presumably available only on Ohhhhh2).

Culture Shock
On previous visits to Bangkok I had not made it to the Koh San Rd, the Bangkok mecca for backpackers. I was not ready for it. It was a tidal wave of sunburnt bingo wings, crap tattoos and fake dreadlock extensions. What on earth was happening? I walked further. Bar after bar of beer bellies, mouths full of burgers and worst of all, soft rock. Soft rock?! In 3 months in India we had hardly seen any white people, and those we did were pretending to be monks. This was horrific.

We did the only think we could: we took refuge in Gullivers Bar and got smashed. And with the help of our new gin soaked whore friends, it was as easy as they were.


Transformation
We left Gullivers holding onto each other. I waved goodbye to our new friends, turned to the Koh San Road once more and my jaw dropped. I was like an African who has never seen snow before. Koh San Road was now a magical playground of bars and people and other cool stuff I couldn't really focus on. As I ran down the street like I'd just won the FA cup, each bingo wing seemed to say to me "Hey John, you're back!". The ketchup stains on fat men's T-shirts said "Where you been!!? We missed you!". Each beer belly wobbled "This beer costs fuck all. Fill your boots son!".

These were my people. Fat burger chomping fuckwits. I was back! I missed you guys, I shouted as I ran.

It just goes to prove that old saying: there's nothing like spending 4 hours with a few prostitutes to make you feel differently about things.

Carrie meanwhile fell asleep while having a foot massage.

We were back!