Work took me and Claire to Pattaya the day after her arrival in Thailand. Staying in a $100 a night resort, right on the beach, for nothing was a nice bonus and a great way to start the trip. I think Claire got the best of the deal, as I had to sit in a conference while she sat on the beach. The resort had one of those cool pools on top of a cliff that seem to merge into the ocean. At night we ate in the restaurant and looked out over the gulf of Thailand.
In the evenings we headed to the pool and/or the beach to relax and talk about wonderful nothing. One night we grabbed a couple of drinks from a beach bar and settled into beach-lounges (I know there’s a proper name, but I just can’t nail it now). After the first sip of a G&T the first ‘Fuck you. Get out of my life.’ Shot over our head. Followed quickly by ‘You no good. You do nothing. Go away. Fuck you.’ Surreptitiously we snuck a look over our shoulder to see the Thai manageress of the bar yelling at her old, white falang partner. The tirade went on for 20 minutes before she hit on the epoch of ‘Fuck you, fuck head, fuck off.’
He said something to us in Russian that we ignored and trudged away, only to return 5 minutes later, perhaps realising that only a pair of swimming shorts is not enough property with which to start a new life.
On the last night we decided to take in the local ‘cultural experience’ and went to see a Khatoey (‘ladyboy’) show. The sets and costumes were spectacular, I must admit I couldn’t always tell the difference, and I would have put up with the Thai-Kylie music if only the ladyboy’s had not looked so tired and bored. We made it 10mins before bailing out. On the way home we took an open-truck taxi, which went right through the heart (‘heart’ – probably not an applicable term) of Pattaya’s sex industry which is arrayed around the beach. Fat white old men with young Thai girls abounded, Claire was appalled, and I zoned out.
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