Khao San Road - Bangkok

‘What do you want?’  The city asks.

‘Strong alcohol, cheap Oriental pussy, men with tits, women capable of shooting hypodermic needles from their vaginas, tattoos, date rape drugs, oblivion, memory loss, diet pills, valium, mistrust, debauchery 24 hours a day, and a wrist band souvenir to take home to my family saying ‘I love rape’.’  The Western tourist replies.    

This thronging street is lined with boutique hotels, bars with buckets, tattoo artists, beauty salons (where the price of waxing depends on the size of the hair), 7-11’s, Boots, STD clinics, street stalls selling clothes, hair braids, pad thai, spring rolls, walking along it are the women selling wrist bands, balloons, wooden frogs, plastic tat and hats, there are tailors trailing the tourist talking about their suits made to order, and men flashing cards of female flesh whispering indiscreetly about ping pong shows.  Music from all around, competing pop from bars, merging into one incomprehensible cacophony, banging and beating its way down the street.  Above all this is the neon, bigger and bigger signs, with brighter lights sprouting from the walls of the buildings clamouring to find space and attention, to take centre stage above the tourists head. 

But it is clean, the locals are tolerant, accepting and uncurious about the depressing manifestation that this place has become.  They seem fine with all as long as it is paid for.  In our hotel was a list of every item within it, the sink, wall hangings, windows, bed sheets, table, fridge, etc. and the cost of replacing it.  And despite all the relentless booze, drugs and sex, there is no violence, no anger and people seem happy to mill around in this scene of depressing depravity.  Khao San Road, the place where hedonism ate itself.