‘Excuse me, I just hit my head hard enough to break the glasses sitting on top of it…’ by Hannah Crone

Posted on February 19, 2011


…some of the things I write might not make sense.

So, Anna and I have stopped breathing. At least, through our noses. Patong smells like poo, EVERYWHERE. It stinks! Probably the only place that didn’t smell like a toilet was the beach and that is why we spent so much time together, the beach and I. I drank my weight in fruit shakes, and watched naked 70 year-old men and women prance up and down the shore. Their skin was wrinkly, and the same colour and texture as Anna’s brown leather bag.

Pretty Thai beach.

But the beach doesn’t really have the same attraction once the sun goes down, so we hit the streets. We only had to walk down Bangla Rd once to have enough free entry and drink passes to last us the rest of the night. Being the babes that we are, the promoters basically threw them at us. There are a ridiculous amount of clubs and bars along the strip. The ones at ground level are usually open, kind of seamlessly melding street and bar, with poles and accompanying strippers shaken’ their thaaang for the whole world to see. Hidden down lane ways and up and down staircases were the larger clubs, mostly populated by tourists (some are even ‘white only’), and mostly playing Rihanna.

While majority of the dancers and prostitutes are women, some are men, dressed as woman. Or women, that used to be men. At times, it was hard to tell the difference. One of our favourite lunch and dinner pastimes (aside from eating the food, which was always amazing), was guessing the sex of Elderly White Mens’ Thai c

Nightclubs in Patong.

ompany. Last night, in one of the larger clubs, Seduction (great name, right?), some Middle Eastern men asked me how much I cost. I wasn’t confused or offended because I am clearly not a hooker, but because I am a blonde white female (since birth), not a gender confused Thai He-she. In any case, my hand said a very sturdy hello to the side of his face.

Most of the hotels around the beach have their own restaurants, and the ones that are not attached tend to be grouped close together. With so many restaurants, so close together, you can only imagine the confusion that could arise if they had all been called ‘seafood restaurant’. The Thai solution? number them all. Anna and I would specifically recommend No.6 (best Pad Thai ever, and only 60 Baht), No.1 and No.9.

Now we are off to re enact scenes from ‘The Beach’ (oh, Leo). I still haven’t seen the movie so I’m not sure which part I’ll be playing.

Posted in: Travel