Thailand 2002

November 23 – December 3

Buying Fake Jewels in Asia with Gabe

Day 1, Friday:

Tickets, metal detectors, etc. I got on a plane with a newly bald Gabe and we planted ourselves in two of what must've been ten million tiny coach seats on our 747.

Day 2, Saturday:

I'm technically not sure how this day existed (stupid time zones). One begins a long flight expecting to get lots of stuff done (trip planning, book-reading, etc.) – I honestly read no more than twenty pages and basically did nothing even remotely useful. The flight attendents were unattractive and the movies were awful.

Airlines know which meals to serve in which order. Always start with the good meal – get things off on the right foot. If you've got a terrorist on-board, he may rethink his positions and affiliations if he's chewing on a tasty pot roast. By the time the second meal rolls around, the foolish passengers have been getting their drink on and are much more amiable toward a sub-par meal. Most people have to wake up to eat a third meal (if at all), so your bottom of the barrel slop catches their taste buds in a numbed state – brilliant. They should've ended with another good meal to literally wash away any bad-taste in the mouths – people would've totally forgotten about those hellish middle meals.

At some point we stopped in Tokyo and lived as giants among men for about thirty minutes, towering above the tiny... GODZIRRA! Well, that was until we started watching the sumo matches that were on practically every TV in our concourse. Apparently airport planners in Tokyo know what tourists want to see.

Day 3, Sunday:

Three more mini-bottles of wine later, we were approaching Bangkok (queue Chess song).

We cashed up (42 Baht / 1 dollar exchange) and headed for some cabs. It's always a good idea to bypass that insistent cabbies who accost you inside the terminal and head for the taxi stands — saved us about 200 Baht. Our only plan at that moment was to head for Kohsan Road (cheap lodging and bars as described by Liz).

We jumped out of the seatbelt-less cab and walked down Kohsan toting our large bags, each weighing more then three small Thai men. After spending some time discussing our haggling strategy, it was ultimately decided that we (being fairly non-confrontational) didn't care too much about nickle-and-diming our friendly third-world hosts. After some gentle haggling to save face, we ended up getting a room at a guesthouse (Oriental Inn, 580 Baht). Dropped our stuff and headed back out to the street. Kohsan's apparently the place to be if you're a young tourist out on the prowl. The street was lined with venders, bars, guesthouses, and junk stores. We walked through one bar to settle for a quieter one where we were forced to drink Fanta before she'd finally serve us beer — something about the police not allowing alcohol to be served after a certain time. Our surroundings were still a bit hazy at this point, I fell asleep a little disoriented.

~ SLEEP ~

After a quick shower and another quick look at our trusty guidebook (read: worthless waste-of-tree) we were off toward another guesthouse to drop our stuff before hitting some sites. The scene was a little different during the day – the air was heavy and thick with smog, vehicles zipping everywhere and loud – this was the Bangkok I'd heard about. We kept to the back streets mostly and took our time getting to where we were going (read: we were lost as hell).

Apparently the Bangkok Marathon was being held that day, and while Gabe and I were sure we'd finish 1, 2 even with our packs, we decided to spare them the embarrassment. Still wandering. Lots of pigeons, but very few tourists... which made me feel like either we'd come to the right country, or we were damn far from all the good stuff. There were lots of people sitting on mats along the streets, most of them selling/trading little Budhist medals – like religious pokemon. We cut through a flea-market of sorts in a park, where vendors seemed to have think that leaving baskets of raw meat sitting in the sun was a good idea. Could this be the Thai equivalent of marinade? Either way, the flies were digging it. So yeah, we decided to pursue lunch elsewhere. Still wandering.

By this time, we were a bit hot, a bit tired of lugging the packs, pretty damn hungry. We eventually made it to the destined guesthouse, which we quickly abandoned for one which was much cheaper and next door (Peachy Guest House, 200 Baht). Signs everywhere read: "Thai women NO upstair!" Sweet. This place had been here a long time, the floors were darkly stained teak and the hallways strangely smelled of old books. It was dirty, cheap and perfect.

After nourishing our frail white bodies, the plan was to hit the weekend market. The first cab we flagged down apparently braked for honkies, but no speaka de English. "Mar-ket! Mar... ket" – nothing. We had better luck with the tuk-tuk driver, who assured us his vehicle was totally safe and he would take us anywhere we wanted to go for only 20 Baht (fitty cent?). This confused us, but our Western confidence/arrogance/stupidity said all was cool.

So a tuk-tuk is basically a suped-up motor-scooter with a passenger cart attached behind the driver. Very safe indeed, especially on the streets of Bangkok. Due to quality design, the exhaust pipe was also conveniently located so as to give the passengers maximum exposure to the sweet CO – a lot of the drivers wore masks.

First stop was a wat (temple) where I think we were going to see the "Happy Budha." It was closed for a service though, so instead we struck up conversation with a Thai man who was sitting on the steps. He gave us the low down on Thai culture and day-to-day life, vacation habits, view of Westerners, etc. Thai's can't afford to vacation much outside the country – makes sense: every time we thought "wow, this is crazy cheap" they'd be thinking the opposite. They finance trips abroad (about one every 5 years) by taking jewelry with them to sell outside Thailand. I guess this works out well, the government allows citizen to export some things duty-free with some restrictions.

We asked him about the export – apparently drivers are given a free tank of gas if they bring tourists in. Ahhhh, our 20 Baht fare was now making sense. So after a 30 minute conversation, we sheepishly walked back to our driver who was asleep at this point, but still happy to see us and eager to press on.

Next stop: EXPORT. The place was pretty shady – basically a standard jewelry store up front and several small offices at the back. We were led into on and given the pitch. They claimed that the purpose of the exports was to get the word out about the high quality of Thai gems. Tourists get ripped off by buying fake jewels at various trap and this was a way for the Thai government to ease the stigma by guaranteeing primo stuff. Blah blah blah, they hold it only 6 days a year, blah blah. They sensed our stupidity and explained how to evaluate the quality of a gem – exactly what I'd do if I wanted to sell a piece of glass to a couple suckers.

We let them down gently and got the hell out of there. After waking up our driver again, we went to another wat... again, closed. Outside, we struck up a conversation with a French tourist. We mentioned that we just came from the export and his eyes lit up – he whipped out a receipt for a 5k necklace he'd bought yesterday. He'd apparently been coming to Thailand every year for the past 5 for the export – and claimed to make an average of 80% of the deal. Shit. This guy might've been a brilliant plant, but he was a good actor and the seed was now planted. Shortly after what was probably another paid participant joined the conversation – the receipt-holding wat care-taker. Shit, now we were thinking about it.

Back in the tuk-tuk we started the rationalization process. Our conclusion: why the Hell not? It would make a good story regardless, though probably with us as the butt of a joke. Long story short, we went back and, after inspecting it like they told us (like chumps) bought the cheapest piece they had: a blue sapphire ring for 1200 American.

Things got a bit strange at that point. Papers signed, we got into a strange car (playing bad American contemporary music) with a driver (who was singing along) and a woman (Nina) who would be taking us to a "Certified Bank." We'd be borrowing money from the Thai government based on our credit to purchase the ring which – yes, it gets better – would then be mailed to us. My God.

Half an hour later we were put into another car with a different girl (Nokie) whom they said would be our personal guide for the next couple days. I could make up excuses for all this insanity (it all happened so fast, etc.), but basically we were just jackasses with a fully developed feeling of American invincibility and a dumb-founding sense of trust in the Thai people whom had been so nice to us thus far.

Nokie was a tiny, tiny girl from Chang Rai. Our first destination was a travel agent to buy some tickets – we wanted to go trekking in the mountains to the north. On the way there we graded her English homework – not bad. Spent an hour getting the trek figured out (Nokie waited patiently next door hanging out with what seemed like people she'd just met), then headed to MBK (the mall) to grab some lunch at the food court. Yeah, we totally blended in – the mall was everything we'd hoped for – tiny asians running around buying things, beautiful. The food court tested me. There was nothing there that seemed remotely familiar or edible. Nothing like the Thai food I knew, nothing like American fast food. The aromas were pungent, over-powering and often nauseating. I ate a little and had a beer – finally feeling a bit out of my element.

Nourished up, we headed north via cab (which Nokie again paid for) to the weekend market. This was amazing... a labyrinth of stalls selling anything and everything. We spend an hour and saw not even 10%,including a stall selling cowboy gear playing country music and run by several Thais dressed up in war-paint and feathers.

From here, it was onwards for a Thai massage. At this point we weren't entirely sure what that meant. Nokie assured us this place was "good and clean," which only confused us more. Gabe and I were led into a room with two mattresses on the floor and given some scrubs to change into. Then two young and fairly attractive Thai girls came in. We acted sheepishly as they directed us... they laughed a lot. It ended up being a completely innocent and completely amazing massage that lasted 2 hours and left me feeling like a limp noodle. I'm pretty sure I feel asleep once or twice. We ended with tea, then gave them the recommended 500 Baht + 100 tip each, then found Nokie waiting patiently in the hallway and left.

At this point there was really only one thing we could do: see a kickboxing match. We got to the stadium just in time, bought tickets (500 Baht), said goodbye to Nokie (she'd be picking us up tomorrow morning), then headed in.

The stadium was simple... concrete seat and fenced off from the ring. Traditional Thai music accompanied the matched – this was the first I'd heard and it was eerie, but great. We tried our best to stay awake, but it was futile. The matches were awesome, but we were comatose. We left early and were out like lights back at the guesthouse after one of the longest days in memory.

Day 4, Monday:

So where is this whole jet lag thing?

We were up early and starving. What little we'd read about the third-world put the fear of God into us – I was fairly certain that Montezuma's Revenge would be enacted on my pale, white ass within minutes of arrival. I fought the urge to bake and boil everything I consumed. Oh coconut shake and banana pancakes, why are you so good?

We hung out on the couches downstairs (outdoor lobby) until Nokie showed up, still looking tiny. We picked up our plane tickets, then she took us to be with all the other tourists at the Grand Palace. Again, like chumps, we left our bags in the trust of a cab driver who promised to be back to pick us up in an hour. Inside, we had to rent socks and shoes so as not to appear anymore disrespectful than we already did. The palace, of course, was amazing – the Thailand one sees in postcards with golden spires and ornate temples – the ambiance ironically destroyed by the drones of idiots there to admire it.

Back in the cab (sigh of relief) we drove south through China-town to find a boat – we had just enough time to cruise the river before heading to the airport. There's no way we would've covered this much ground with Nokie – even if the sapphire turns out to be a piece of glass, it was worth the cash to have her show us around. The long boats were indeed long, and had what looked like (and sounded like) a salvaged VW beetle engine sitting propelling us through the sludge. I'd seen what I thought were disgusting rivers, but in comparison they seemed drinkable.

The hour-long ride polluted as much as a year in Gary, Indiana might. We cruised past miles of floating slums, the smog coming out of our boat only adding to that which was thick in the air. This was what a third-world metropolis looked like. We visited the back side of a huge, golden, sitting Budha and tossed a loaf of bread to some fish. Not sure how anything could survive in that water, but I'm guessing enlightenment had something to do with it.

We said our goodbyes to Nokie at the airport and made another attempt at getting her to say "love you long time," then tipped her 500 Baht and wrote down our email addresses. Off we flew to Chang Mai. Hopped in a van for 'Mr. Paul' to the Suriwongse Hotel, fairly posh yet had the most affordable mini-fridge I'd ever seen. Chang Mai proper is laid out like a citadel, and has a moat and high earth bank separating it from the rest of town. After pulling ourselves together, we headed out to the night market to stumble through the same merchandise being sold probably everywhere else in the country. Often venders at adjacent stalls were selling the exact same stuff. The mass-produced feel of it caused me to avoid buying anything, I lived vicariously through Gabe. They were good at giving the hard sell, and had mastered, maybe subconsciously, the art of working travelers' guilt. A "No" was always interpreted as "Price too high," so they'd lower it a couple times until you'd just shake your head and walk away, feeling terrible for inadvertently putting them through the exercise. Some were cheerful about the game, others seemed more desperate and dejected – those got to me after a while.

Back to the hotel's restaurant for dinner and the worst lounge singing we'd ever seen or even heard of. We tried to brave it out, but it's pungent mix of early eighties songs with tone-deaf delivery drove us back out into the market and eventually to a beer garden with kick-boxing matches in progress. Several key disappointments: the place was packed with Europeans, beer was expensive (relatively), use of the restrooms wasn't free, and the boxing was both lame and "performed" by actors who came around for tips periodically. Surely the first of these facilitated the rest, but we left feeling lucky to have seen actual matches the day before. Fell asleep watching Thai TV.

Day 5, Tuesday:

We weren't exactly roughing it at this hotel. Woke up, threw some clothes on then headed down to eat some complementary continental breakfast with a drove of tourists. Our guides, Bohm (Buhm) and Dapo (Daa-poe), picked us up about an hour late. We then drove around and picked up the rest of our trekking group:

First stop was a local market for supplies (read: Thai brandy). Then it was time for our pachyderms fix. The majesty was spoiled however by the poor treatment of the elephants. Each carried three people, a "driver" sitting on its neck, and two others sitting on a metal chair/platform tied to it's back with chains. The cigar-smoking driver routinely slapped them with bamboo sticks, to the point of leaving marks. The trail crossed a couple rivers and was at points very steep, causing the chair to shift awkward and painfully on the elephants back. I told ours several times to buck and kill the driver, but he was apparently more mature then I.

After tossing down some food while being entertained by meandering cats and free-range poultry, we finally started walking. It rained lightly almost the whole time we were in the jungle, keeping us cool, damp, and often enveloped in fog. The only drawback to this was the slickness of the trail. At one point several of us had to pull others up with fallen branches.

Whomever setup this trek did a great job positioning the waterfalls. We see one a couple times a day, when we were most tired and need of a swim. Climbing high on slick rocks and diving into swirling water might not be the smartest thing to do, but luckily my paranoia didn't get the better of me.

We made it to the first village a couple hours before dusk. The most rural place I'd ever been to (no electricity, running water, etc), but strangely felt very comfortable. The toilet (one per village) was a ring of wood or porcelain on a hole. Water front a nearby stream was diverted in via a system of bamboo pipes. To flush, divert some water into the hole.

The villagers were quite nice, though our interaction with them was limited here. Several came around selling charms to ward off evil spirits. I was pretty convinced that those who didn't buy one might have their wallets stolen by "evil spirits." For all I know, this was all just a front for the white folk. They were kicking back, watching TV in the "hut" next door.

Granted I was starving (shouldn't say that while traveling in the Third world), but the food was amazing. Red and Green Curries, and a home grown assortment of peppers (plick), which I somehow managed to smear all over my nose. After dinner Bohm played guitar for a while and told of stories about the various indigenous tribes of Thailand – this was a White Karen village).

Day 6, Wednesday:

Woke up feeling like I'd slept on a wooden plank. Ah, it was true. Gobbled the best banana pancakes of the trip, then hit the trail.

Learn to speak Thai:

D'oh! I hate tonal languages...

Trekking is great in and of itself. A) you're in a foreign place with plenty of natural stuff to see and do, then B) you're with people you don't know who likely have lots of relatively interesting things to say or teach you. Some things I picked up:

Walking through the jungle, across rice patties, past interesting agricultural and irrigation contraptions, the occasional waterfall and villages. Each village had what they referred to as a '7-11,' basically a place to buy junk food, etc. We hit one at the second village which was basically the lower section of a hut (the storage section) packed with boxes and bags of snacks and candy I'd never seen before and may never again. We bought all we could carry for the equivalent of a couple dollars, including such favorites as "Winnie the Fou."

The jungle was surprising void of wildlife and insects. The villages, however, were packed with dogs, chickens, pigs, and livestock. Supposedly, there were rudimentary dirt roads between the villages – basically the only connection to the outside world. I spent too much time thinking about how nice it must be to be completely isolated.

We swam at another waterfall, then stopped at the second village for the night. After another nice candle-lit dinner, the villagers build us a fire (and benches) to warm up. As warm as it was during the day, the night was cold and damp. Was quite strange to be huddled around a campfire in the middle of a tropical rain forest.

Day 7, Thursday:

Slept much better – maybe this plank was softer? Woke up to the sounds of roosters (again) and villagers operating some type of flour-making, grain-smashing gadget. Eventually, they gave us some meager helpings of eggs, toast and tea. While we ate, we exchanged Thai/English insect names with a villager who had brought a book.

Along the way, we past a nest of daddy long-legs (an orgy of a million twitching legs), more rice patties, a guava tree, then had to wade across a sizeable stream. After checking for leeches, we pressed on.

I cut my foot while diving at the 4th waterfall, which wasn't far from the town where our trek ended. We loaded back into a truck for the final leg on bamboo rafts. These were pretty crazy, especially so since they let us control them via 15 foot poles.

We ate lunch (Pad Se Eu) with the fury of 100 tiny Thai men, then we said our goodbyes and exchanged email addresses as we were dropped off. I was still boggled at how the woman at the hotel (which was large and fairly posh) remembered us. We took a couple fantastic showers and dumps, then headed for dinner at a nice restaurant (The Gallery, part restaurant, part art/antique gallery) on the river. It was Thanksgiving, and sadly, they were actually serving turkey dinner to some gringos. The multi-course meal with dessert and alcohol was less than 10 bucks per person.

Afterwards, we hoofed it across the river to another night market, then caught a tuk-tuk. We told them we wanted to get massages. They laughed, more so when we told them we wanted a "nice, clean place." They apparently knew an excellent place, wink wink. After more awkward conversation, we learned that there's a big difference between an innocent Thai massage and a body massage (hibbity bibbity). Regardless, we got two more hours of massage. For massages, they make one wear these tiny, Thai-sized scrubs which I just couldn't keep on. There's also a good chance I slept through a significant portion of this one too. Luckily, the tea they serve at the end woke us up enough to make it home in one piece. Also lucky for Gabe, I have a sense of direction.

Day 8, Friday:

Oh bed... so nice...

Time for more pseudo-continental action. Our clocks were apparently not synchronized, and our driver somehow found us in the restaurant. We'd dropped off our clothes the day before to be cleaned, so I ran to get those and had to jump a wall and accost an old woman to get them back. Then off we went and before we knew it, we were on a shuttle headed for Phuket with a belligerent Irish couple just starting a two-year vacation. Switched to a tuk-tuk SUV (sweet) in Phuket Town and headed toward Karon Beach.

Baht! What a great name for a currency – so versitile when used as a substitute in songs. "Little in the middle, but she's got much Bhat... Baby got Baht."

After setting up camp, we walked down the beach through the squeakiest sand, then into town. We dodged a few dozen tailors, then ate some food and watched some soccer while our saucy waitress acted saucily. Was accosted by the first prostitutes of the trip on the way back to the guest house. We changed, took a couple more swigs of the Thai brandy, then hopped in a van to ride up to Patong Beach.

Karon Beach is known for its quality beach, while Patong is the party town. We stepped out of the van and into madness. Streets lined with bars, and in front of each bar, a swarm of whores. I've never been groped so many times in my life. There were some tavern-like places, but most were go-go bars.

While avoiding the merciless little Thai hands, we found our way to one of the bars set-up in the middle of the street, almost like a big kiosk with bar stools around it. The drink of choice was Redbull and Vodka, and I'm not sure we knew or cared how much each one cost. We befriended the bartender and her friend, who gave us the low-down on the go-go bars and a couple free drinks. To their dismay, we eventually wandered back into the madness.

So each bar had a theme: green neon, nurses, and then the school girls – where we obviously spent a good deal of our time. The operation is fairly simple... if you want to be loved 'long time,' grab one the dozen girls in front of the bar. otherwise, one heads inside, grabs a seat and watches the show. At some point you'll find a girl next to you, maybe you motioned for her off the catwalk, or maybe she just snuck up. Either way, they want you to buy them drinks in exchange for them groping you, looking hot, and making small talk. This being my first exposure, I had far too many questions for the girls to be bothered by that nonsense. The barrage included:

We hit lots of bars, bought lots of drinks, and talked to lots of girls. We saw some amazing vaginal gymnastics involving ping-pong balls, fire, and darts. Eventually, we found ourselves back with our new friends at the kiosk-bar. They were happy to see us. After a couple more free drinks, out came the Connect-Four. Yeah, I wasn't ready for that, nor was I ready for two Thai girls to beat my ass at such a simple game. After much debate, we managed to escape.

On the move, yet far too faded to walk straight in any direction, we stumbled into an outdoor drag bar. This was our first hard-core exposure to the "lady-boys." We'd heard the stories, but were not prepared... so hot, wait, NO! Freaky. Got out of there and into a tuk-tuk pretty fast.

Day 9, Saturday:

Considering the insanity of the night before, I woke up feeling pretty good. Time for, yes, more banana pancakes then a van-ride back to Phuket Town. The driver took us to a travel agent who hooked us up with boat tickets to Koh Phi Phi. Apparently there was only one trip over per day, so we had some time to kill before it left. We spent a couple hours milling about Phuket Town. Nothing remarkable here, though surely we were wandering in the wrong places. We hit an Internet cafe, a bookstore, and a mall. The rumors were false – Thais do eat popcorn at movies, not crickets. We blew some Baht at the arcade, whose most notable feature was the karaoke booths. I'd never seen it done sober before, or with so much intensity... suddenly the success of David Hasselhoff in Asia made sense.

General retail prices in Thailand are not that cheap. Electronics were actually several times more expensive. Despite our attempts to blend, we were the constant targets of the siren-like songs: "Helloooooo! Thai massage! Loooooooookinggggg?!"

After bussing to the pier, we had a two hour ride to the island, the last half hour of which we spent on the roof. Coming up on Koh Phi Phi was pretty amazing – two green mountains jutting out of the water, then a white sandy strip of beach connecting them. Sailboats everywhere and the envy cut me deep. It's crazy pulling up next to large ships and being able to see the entire hull and anchor through the crystal-clear water.

Plan of attack: find a bungalow as cheap and close to the beach as possible, then food, then some exploring and alcohol. The bungalow was neither cheap nor on the beach, but the rest of the plan worked out well.

So this was apparently where gorgeous foreigners go. I'd never seen so many beautiful people – and it looked as though they'd all been here a long time.

Wandering back toward our end of the strip, we crashed at a bar on the beach called "Karma". We lounged there all night and well into the morning sipping foofy drinks, listening to trip hop and the banter of foreign chicks, watching skinny dippers and the lights on the sail boats. We headed back to the bungalow about an hour after the bar closed, 3am.

Day 10, Sunday:

Woke up, ate, then off to the viewpoint. The trail was short, steep and covered with millipedes; the view was insane. Back down to check-out and grab a long-boat to Long Beach where we found a cheap bungalow on the beach (340b, though an Aussie said he'd stayed there for 100b the year before).

Hired a boat for a couple hours to take us snorkeling at Phi Phi Ley, Leonardo-style. I'd never been snorkeling before, and this was a pretty ridiculous place to start. The configuration of the island was basically a big rock, with several beaches carved in at various places, making for interesting snorkel-action. For instance, one might be cruising peacefully along in shallow warm water, then sucked by current into deep, dark and cold water along a cliff wall. That person might then see what looks like a barracuda causing them to flail and futility scream before fleeing back to the safe, warm waters.

Anyone who says urchins are peaceful creatures is full of shit. Highlights included: an eel, a few squid, a shark, and schools and schools of vibrantly colored "feesh". At some point, I decided to give Gabe a vibrant look at my ass via the ol' tropical aqua-moon. Sadly, the victim was instead an innocent byswimmer.

We headed back to the main beach via the rocky shore, wandered for a while ogling the ridiculously hot and scantily-clad European chickas, then stopped in to grab some food.

The restaurant was showing "The Beach", probably by mandate. Then came the downpour – the hardest rain I'd ever seen for several hours straight. We had time to watch "Jackass" and half of "Harry Potter".

Day 11, Monday:

Ah, beunos dias. Woke up and sat in bed for a few minutes, waiting for the itching to begin. Holy shit, no bites – word to the Deet. We went through our morning ritual of devouring banana pancakes and tipping poorly, then caught two boats and a plane. Note: Bangkok's airport has a golf course.

Though generally ill-advised, we booked lodging via a dude at airport (Wall Street Inn) rather than shelling out the cash to stay at the Oriental. After Checking in, the plan was to hit a couple of the nearby sites, including the highly recommended Jim Thompson House. This guy was a white devil that made it big by exporting silk and abusing the Thai labor system. Apparently lots of tourists like to visit his old digs, a symbol of how white always beats down the lessor races. The ride there was pretty brutal – this was the busy, downtown Bangkok – I inhaled about a kilo (metric, mind you) of dirt and solidified smog.

So the place was closed, well, mostly. We hung around a little bit – it was pretty nice in a tropical playboy's bungalow type of way. We grabbed a tuk-tuk on the way out, and yes, he too hit us up regarding an export scheme – this on for suits. Well, we'd wanted suits so again, we said sure. Low and behold, we ended up getting some suits (after some shrewd negotiations, er ...) even though we knew we were getting a raw deal.

The driver waited and then drove us through a crazy entertainment district (where we should've headed that night) back near our hotel. We grabbed some dinner, then changed and waited for tailors. Strange but true: at 10:30pm we were taking off our pants in front of 2 Thai men in a hotel in Bangkok.

Our flight would leave at 6am the next morning, thus giving us several hours to see just how crazy Bangkok gets on a Monday night. We were told that Silom Road was the place to be, especially for those looking for infectious diseases. For some reason though, every driver we talked to had his own ideas about where a couple strapping American lads should be headed.

So off we were on foot toward the go-go bars, finally. Sadly though, we only had time to cruise through a few marginal ones before they shut dumping tons of shady characters out on the street. We took another tuk-tuk to the "late bar" which was pretty lame, then headed out again on foot. Wandering again, in search of food we found ice cream, an elephant and more lady-boys. Several of them were particularly interested in us. Gabe flips out: "But you're a dude!" To which s/he responds: "No, no! I cut off!" Good times.

The suit came in three waves, last one around 3am. We got back around 3:30am, slept for half an hour, then up and out via cab to the airport.

Day 12, Tuesday:

Not really sure how I got there, but I was on a plane. The novelty of the whole thing had worn off by this point, and we were damn tired.

We had grand plans for Tokyo, including tacking on a day to the trip and tackling their crazy traditional toilets. Instead, we balked and opted to head back to snow-covered Chicago.