Work and play in Thailand


Image: Link

Anyone who says “I was in Bangkok for work” sets himself up for mockery and taunts. Especially if he is young bachelor. So go ahead, have a laugh at my expense because this is the story of my “work” in the world’s sex capital.

It was a late July evening. I sat on a plane and couldn’t help notice this beautiful air hostess with colourful nails. They are no less than modern day fairies, their cheeks are the colour of pink, hair tied in a neat bun and a wonderful smile on their face, like they have been waiting for you all their lives. Flights would be such tedious affairs without them.

I requested a glass of red wine. She told me how the white wine with grape juice was a better combination. I smiled and agreed. Even a glass of poison would have tasted sweet from her hands.

A friend had once told me how I slip so easily at the sight of a pretty woman. And why not? It is a privilege of a young man.

A rush of adrenaline9Image: Link

I went to one of the most popular tourist spots, Khao San street, for a stroll. It is fuelled by dollars and runs on the energy of backpackers. People come and go. They are important, but the music, booze and party is non-stop.

There are girls in skimpy clothes dancing on top of bars. There are girls out on the streets to lure you inside. People leave their worries at the entrance and “Have a good time.” No wonder tourists flock this hedonistic heaven.

A cowboy street123Image: Link

It didn’t hurt to have Soi Cowboy street next to my hotel. Don’t really think I need to explain any further. The name is self-explanatory. Men walk these streets with a sheepish grin and women flaunt their sexuality like there is no tomorrow.
The English music (“She doesn’t mind” “Baby I don’t need dollar bills”) gives the impression that anything goes. The lights are dim and the women are up on the dance floor.

You can sit and enjoy the show or be a more active participant, whatever suits your wallet.

Blondes, brunettes and redheads in pink bras and pierced abdomens are happy to indulge you.

It is good to look at them, but when they look at you it is difficult not to feel a little embarrassed, a little shameful.
We have goddesses, Lakshmi and Kali and yet so little respect for women, while they have prostitution and yet women are empowered. This world is full of contradictions.


Every travel is enjoyable when I find a coffee shop where I can sit for hours and write my heart out. Pattaya was no different except this was a street side stall with a vast ocean in front. I ordered a cold coffee. It came in a glass which was twice as big as a Costa at 1/10th the price. Travel is full of surprise.

I hadn’t done much writing until this point, almost the end of the trip. I wondered if I had nothing to say but the words came in the coffee shop. Somewhere in the mix of noise, traffic, waves and Coldplay, I could hear my own voice.

There is no point in pushing things. Let them come to you, accept what life has to offer and you will be happy.

The Jomtein Beach was dirty. Not the turquoise water that a traveller enjoys. I wonder if the crowd if to blame. Perhaps the way to maintain sanctity of a life, relationships and beaches is to restrict them to a select few.

I had every intention of going to a party spot, but the breeze was so strong and pleasant that I parked my bicycle, sat next to the ocean and enjoyed every moment. We can never compete with nature. The thought itself is laughable. I can look at oceans and mountains all day. It enriches my imagination, fosters creativity and heals me from within. Can anyone say that about a club or a tall building?

This country comes alive at night. Even the ocean is charged up. The breeze picks pace and waves come and hit the shore with vengeance. I wonder if we touch the water, whether a current would pass through our body.

The whole trip was surreal. A climate change conference, go go bars, ocean, coffee shops and what not. Thailand lives up to its expectation. A heady mix of work and play.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s