Home | Features | Music | Fashion | Interviews | Archive | Contact Us
 

35 Years in a Convent, 1 Night in a Whorehouse

by Johnny Finger

 

We arrived in Bangkok around 07:00 on New Years Eve and hitched a taxi to the hotel, which I had booked online for a measly £50 for three nights. The hotel was well situated on Soi 4 just off the Sukhumvit Road. We didn’t know this at the time, but our hotel was on the same Road as the notorious Nana Plaza, a three storey carousel that housed around 100 Go Go bars. We didn’t notice this when the taxi dropped us off because at 7 in the morning, the surrounding area looked pretty much like Butlins after a hurricane.

 

The hotel was clean and basic, after a sampling the local cuisine for breakfast (ham and cheese omelette) we had a scout around to get our bearings. I read that Sukhumvit Road was an ideal place to say as it was near to the action and there was plenty to do there. What I didn’t know was that Sukhumvit Road is 20km long but luckily we were based at ground zero. As you’d expect, Bangkok is a manic 100 mph city and we decide to head for the tourist/backpacker district of the Ko Sahn Road, immortalised in Alex Garlands ‘The Beach’ as the first place Richard hears about the fabled Beach.

 

To get into the spirit of things Hugh and myself decided to jump a rickshaw. Dressed in polo shirts, chindit shorts and flip flops, nursing a couple of bottles of the local brew, Singha and our honky grins reflecting back in the rickshaw drivers Sandy Bull mirrored aviators, we set off in the morning rush hour traffic. The novelty of the experience wore off after being in the grid locked traffic breathing in fumes for five minutes. Indeed, I was tempted to jump out and flag down an air conditioned taxi but the complexity of the local roads and the fact I’d been up for 36 hours and probably didn’t have my ‘A-game’ faculty skill set switched on put me off. We eventually arrived at the Ko Sahn Road, both our blood type’s sporting a hybrid of Singha and unleaded.

 

The Ko Sahn Road was much as you’d expect. Full of bars and market stalls which sold just about everything. The staple dish sold from the stalls is Pad Thai, which is a local noodle, bean sprout, shrimp and vegetable delight that was available for around 15p. You could top this off with a fresh fruit smoothy for an extra 20p and if you’re feeling particularly adventurous, a bag of deep fried locust for another 5p. Other stalls had the obligatory Louis Vitton snide bags, suede puma trainers, King Kong DVD’s, Rolex watches and even British Driving licences! Even though it was early on, the bars were already busting with backpackers, mostly young tanned beautiful people, shooting the shit in the morning heat.  We found a restaurant that looked a little more high class than the rest and ordered all the starters, much to the amusement of the staff. We had only been sat down for 10 minutes when one of the bar girls gave Hugh her phone number. Seeing Fred the weather man at a table nearby, I told the girl she should ask him out, as he was very famous in the UK. Fred giggled and blush like a little excited goofy toad. Hugh and I decided we’d go back to hotel and cool our heels in the pool then come back for the New Year festivities on the Ko Sahn Road.

 

The New Years festivities started off in bar that had a Thai Boxing exhibition. The extravaganza was MC’eed by a very excitable French chap who made a whooping noise like he was sitting on a pin each time a blow was landed. The bar was full of drunken mongs, all British, so we decided to move on. We hit upon a bar called the Silk Road that had the Liverpool v WBA game projected onto a thirty foot screen. We settled in, sharing Chivas Regal with a gang of Japanese students on our table and dropping a few left over mdma tabs I had left over form Christmas. By midnight, the Ko Sahn Road was elbow room only with fireworks and party poppers going off all over the place. The lack of sleep caught up with us and rather than head into the crowd for a kiss and a cuddle from the many girls grooving in the Road, we decided to head back to Nana Plaza for a night cap then turn in.

 

The rickshaw ride back to Nana was like a scene from one of those ‘young dumb and full of cum’ movies like Too Fast Too Furious, whatever that means, the little three wheeler popping in and out of traffic at break neck speed. Hugh and I were Too Tired Too Drunk to care as the driver came to a screeching halt at Nana Plaza. The three tiered carousel was lit up like a mini Las Vegas, 100 bars playing 100 different songs, all bursting at the seems scantily clad Thai girls, vying for fat sex tourists wallets. As we approached the entrance to the Plaza, six girls dressed in cut down white blouses and micro short tartan skirts came dancing arm in arm, kicking their legs like some school girl Folies Bergere, only they were flanked by dwarfs. The bar they were outside was called Lollipop (I later learned that the girls used swim naked in fish tanks there but Health and Safety shut them down). Now this was the Bangkok I was expecting. We settled on a couple of stools at the Pharaohs bar and I was immediately set upon by a concubine. I’m sure this happened to Ramses all the time (except he wasn’t wearing Birkenstocks and a Curva Nord t’shirt) so I took a swig of my vodka and said what he hell. Hugh was happy launch a solo expedition to circum-navigate Nana’s delights as I headed back to the hotel with a saucy little minx who looked like Kobe Thai and was making ‘me so horny’.

 

I was pre-warned by lads who’d been here before that some hotels enforce a ‘naughty boy’ tax for anyone who brings back a bar girl. No such infraction here as I skipped up the stairs to the air conditioned splendour of our room. To cut as long story short, I was about as much use as a chocolate fireguard, I slipped on the strawberry flavoured nodder and lasted a measily 5 minutes before gravity and cock lag took hold. Kobe was really disappointed, she was barking at me and pointing at my cock, which now looked like an oyster in a crisp packet ‘WHY HE SLEEP? WHY HE SLEEP? I WANT TO JUMP YOU! I WANT TO JUMP YOU!’ Of course, being a selfish lover, I couldn’t give a shit. I jumped back into my battle fatigues and hitched a taxi with Kobe back Nana Plaza. I bumped into Hugh outside a bar called the Rainbow, both of us greeting each other with shit eating grins and trading tales ‘I only went for a piss in that Lollipop bar and one the dancers grabbed me and started giving me a wank!’

 

We stumbled into the Rainbow, plonked own infront of the stage and gawped at the girls gyrating to ‘Highway Star’ by Deep Purple, NOBODY GONNA TAKE MY CAR, I’M DRIVE IT INTO THE GROUND, I nearly fell off my chair laughing before Go Go dancer wearing a basque caught me, stuck her tongue in my ear and her hand down my shorts I LOVE IT AND I NEED IT, I BLEED IT, YEAH IT’S A WILD HURRICANE, ALRIGHT HOLD TIGHT I’M A HIGHWAY STAR!!! I tried desperately to phone one of the lads back home to share this epiphany but was too twisted to find the dial button.

 

We rolled out of the Rainbow and as we walked past one bar called Obsession, Hugh seemed to remember drinking in here earlier. We walked in and the place had the usual fayre of scantily clad girls dancing on a stage, numbers pinned to there hips. I darted to the toilet for a piss and two girls followed me. Pinching my arse and peeking over my shoulder giggling. One of them followed me back to the table and plonked herself down next me. Hugh had already ordered two Singha’s as the girl was gesturing to me to look as her tits which she whipped out of her bikini. Now, I just nodded and said “yes, very nice”. She wasn’t speaking, just smiling and nodding. ‘”I thinks she’s Mutt and Jeff” I said to Hugh. Another girl then came over and sat with Hugh, gesturing in a similar manner. The penny semi-dropped with me when I heard the Girl by Hugh’s side say something to the waitress in a less than lady like voice. “Hugh, I think these are fellas!” Hugh frowned, looked at both the girls again and said “D’ya reckon?” then the girl by Hugh’s side said “You know we are Ladyboys? You like?” Nervously, trying to but a brace face on it, you turned to me and said “You’re right!” We still finished our beer but made a sheepish exit. Now I know they’ll be people reading this who’ll say they could never be fooled but trust me, apart from the deep voice there’s no way you could tell.

 

As if to prove our respective manhoods were still intact, we headed into the G Spot. Hugh had bought a snide Everton top on an earlier visit took the Ko Sahn Road and he paid one of the dancers 70 baht (about £1) to dance in the shirt. As if this wasn’t great enough, the next tune on was Tarzan Boy by Baltimora! We latched onto a few girls who we learnt were dancers in the G Spot but they had the night off. Min (pronounced Mean) and Lucy took a shine to our drunken shenanigans and ended up coming back to the hotel. Lucy was an absolute stunner, Min looked okay in the bar but in the cold light of the bedroom she had a bit of a battered mask but I saw right past these minor imperfections to her naked 21 year old body. I don’t know about you readers but there’s just something about the prospect of having sex twice in one night with different women that really gives me a second wind after flying half way around the world, not sleeping for over 36 hours and quaffing about 20 Singha beers.

 

We dispensed with formalities and after a few drinks from the mini bar, the girls were getting down with the get down while Hugh and I high fived each other in a display of bonhomie. Hugh I'd really got my second wind with Min and Hugh's moves were making Lucy yodelling like Thijs Van Leer. With the sun coming up and our respective libidos crashing down we both hit the pillow. Hugh wanted Lucy to leave, something she didn’t take too kindly, infact I’m sure it was her who snaffled the white kit kat from the mini bar. Min stayed with me, which came in handy for that morning glory that pops up like clockwork most mornings after a skinfull. This was our first night and although the pace didn’t abate for the rest of trip, this was by far our most colourful…

 

“We that are true lovers run into strange capers.” - Bill Shakespeare

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
Home | Features | Music | Fashion | Interviews | Archive | Contact Us

Copyright © 2006 Swine Magazine. All rights reserved.