Bangkok Twenty-odd Years Ago...

24 years ago I was twenty-six and had just done a year's contract in Belgium as a design engineer with a rather lethargic Telco, amazingly underemployed for the dosh. Basically walked away with 20,000 quid in profit, which back then was serious money. I can recall sitting in a Patpong bar being rather pleased with myself that on my 26th birthday I had 26000 pounds stashed back in a London bank (and determined that it wasn't going to be blown on Oriental gals)! Okay, the pound was worth less than forty baht, the Thai currency pegged to the dollar at 25 (I think) so although it was cheap in Bangkok, not quite as bargain priced as if you made a direct comparison with today's exchange rates.

Whilst wandering around Antwerp's vibrant nightlife scene (compared to the UK anyway), I kept coming across these beautiful Thai women, all the more sexy and alluring in comparison to the portly Belgian bints who seemed addicted to Mayonnaise and chips, the height of the local cuisine. Back then, the Thais could actually get a visa to work as an entertainer (stripper in the nightclubs) and/or could get a Belgian passport if they could bear to be married to a Belgian man for move than five minutes. The Thai's weren't the only bar-girls but they were easily the most attractive. Alas, they wanted nothing much to do with me! Too much easy money from well-to-do locals and I was a slim young thing rather than the aged, bald orangutan type so popular with Thai peasant gals.

I actually fell for this Thai girl called Tan who was already a divorcee and Belgian citizen... these days, I would've run a mile, knowing what I know. She was actually a barmaid in a beer bar rather than a stripper... after a few weeks of trying to get to know her by visiting the beer bar most nights, I was warned off by the large Belgian owner! Probably saved me a small fortune but I was well pissed off at the time. Nevertheless, when my contract came to an end I was inspired to get on the first plane to Bangkok...

Air Romania, as it happens, RAT as it was lovingly known by its passengers; the minus thirty-something stopover in Bucharest a laugh a minute with the desperate communist guards trying to cadge cigarettes off the passengers whilst the burly hostesses on the plane looked like they would beat the shit out of you if you demanded a glass of water. I seem to recall that it was more or less on time, something which Gulf Air could learn from, these days. I later decided that a few more quid for Thai Airways was money well spent, non-stop in relative luxury.

Don Muang a lot less civilised back then, I seem to recall a whole mass of people outside the customs' exit... a persistent youth persuaded me into his taxi, only when we got there it was just an ordinary car with a sexy Thai girl in the passenger seat. It wasn't an expensive ride though the youth tried to get me to sign up for various future excursions whilst the bint kept giving me sultry looks – no idea if she was available, wasn't going to chance insulting the driver in the middle of nowhere in a strange city! At least Thais stuck to the agreed price unlike Filipino taxi-drivers who I later found out to be pirates of the highway. Even back then there were plenty of high-rises on the road to Don Muang, I was maybe twenty years too late to enjoy the real Bangkok. The cars and taxis mostly old Jap crap held together by wire and prayers.

I had pre-booked into the Surawongse Hotel, then not infested with Indians and Africans... at a laughably low rate, much to the car driver's disgust as he had his own brand of bargains lined up. I told him to give me a call tomorrow rather than agreeing to anything, telling myself to unplug the room's phone as soon as I checked in. I can't recall any complaints about the actual room but I made the mistake of giving the bellboy a fifty baht tip and had about three more guys knocking on the door, bringing in blankets and fiddling with the air-conditioner... only went away when no more tips were in evidence.

Night had already fallen and I knew that Patpong was just a march down Surawongse Road – no internet information in those days, the guide books mostly coy about the nightlife. Somehow, a taxi driver persuaded me into his cab, the promise of lots of virgin gals in a nightclub. The fare only fifty baht. He drove in a huge circle back to Surawongse Road to a nightclub under a hotel. The dimly lit dive packed out with women on the stage but damned if I could see anyone I liked. They looked exactly what they probably were – ex-brothel gals who had serviced thousands of Thai men in their youth. A beer a hundred baht but the manager insisted I had to buy a girl a drink at a 100 baht – I refused but ordered a beer.

A not particularly attractive gal was thrust down next to me, cola and beer arrived – yep, I had to pay 200 baht for the two of us. Well done, I thought, you have been in the city five minutes and ripped off already! The amount trivial but the loss of face most grave. I slapped the money down on the table, walked out without touching my beer. A rather stupid protest but I figured if I stayed any longer some more spurious costs would be added to the bill – after all, I was a farang breathing Thai air and surely I should pay for that. At least I was halfway to Patpong!

The heated night then seemed much less intense than now, walking Bangkok streets, these days, giving the impression that the city has sunk that much closer to hell. Or maybe it was just being twenty years younger, a lot more resilient to the heat and pollution.

Patpong much quieter, too, lacking the market and the huge hordes of disparate tourists; mostly a Western playground; the terrifying range of diseases imported later from Africa and the Indian subcontinent not yet in evidence. Upstairs bars, conversely, had much more hardcore shows but a fifty/fifty chance of being ripped off. The names of some of the old go-go bars escape me for the moment... ah, Limelight was one, I think. Mississippi Queen another. Grand Prix possibly another. As in most things, one group later forcing a monopoly on the bars a disaster for the customer. To be honest, the shows did absolutely nothing for me I just wanted to feast my eyes on Oriental beauty; it never occurred to me then that most of the newbies would be stashed in the upstairs show-bars until they learned enough to graduate to the downstairs go-go's. Typical Oriental trickery.

I wandered into the first bar I came to. At one point in time it was called Gaslight Bar, not sure if that was its name then. On the right coming in from Surawongse Rd, one of the first downstairs bars, just a single shophouse width. Three piece band playing rock at the back of the bar with a couple of gals dancing on raised stages. I think it is now a small restaurant. Beer Singha drank I for the first time, and it seemed fine back then but these days it tastes like piss – did they change it or did Mr Chang change me? About ten gals to the sole customer (me), the kind of odds I can only applaud!

Click, click, click watching the girls. Smile, oh yes, sign me up here please. Ms Mai from Chiang Mai (it just occurred to me writing that where she got her name from). 22, short, slender and sexy. Big smile when I bought her a cola. The band does requests, says she, but Anarchy in the UK by the Sex Pistols draws a blank (luckily, I didn't demand God Save The Queen). A few beers later, 200 baht bar fine and we we're heading back to the hotel. Beer and cola's something like 50 baht. Walked all the way, she didn't complain and I didn't even think about taking a taxi after my last convoluted experience.

Thieves at the hotel wanted 200 baht for an extra person in the room, as I had prepaid for three weeks I was a captive audience for such rip-offs. How to lose a future customer but Thais don't give a shit about that kind of thing. At least I got a receipt each time so I know he wasn't pocketing the cash, probably. Still a cheap hotel room even with the rip-off and she even got a coupon for breakfast to go with my own! One of the things I was to really like about Bangkok in the future, you could hop off the plane and head for Sukhumvit's upper soi's and find a studio apartment for well under ten grand a month (half that often), merely pay a month's deposit and rent up front and move right in. Could take less than an hour; try that in London!

I won't bore you with the sex other than to say it was the best I had ever had. I tried it again several times just to make sure! So I had just made the typical tourist mistake of falling for the first Thai girl I'd talked to (didn't count the rip-off club as I didn't talk to that woman) but oddly my heart and brain weren't overwhelmed; I'd seen enough of the Thai women's machinations in Belgium to load me up with a certain amount of fear and loathing. Nope, I just wanted to have as much sex as possible as cheaply as possible.

Ended up giving her 500 baht for the long time session and then asked her how much see wanted to come to see me after work, long time, for the next three weeks (hence no bar fine). Up to me, typical Thai answer - so I said 200 baht and she said okay! She never missed a night, anyway, so I must've been doing something right. Rather than getting possessive or emotionally involved, it left me the whole day and evening free to explore the city whilst not having to worry about tracking down a babe for entertainment. Sex two times in the night and once in the morning, not a condom in sight – luck was on my side, no problems!

Worked for me anyway, and escaped with my heart intact. I did say I wouldn't mind taking her to the UK for a few months and swapped addresses with her. When she sent a letter asking for 20,000 baht for a passport I knew she was on the make and didn't bother replying. When I returned to Bangkok two years later I did check out the bar but she was long gone. Of course, the Gods got their revenge on me when I fell really hard for another b-gal... but that's another mad story.

Second day in Bangkok I wandered down Surawongse Road heading for Rama 4. My perambulation rudely interrupted by the friendliest (Thai) guy I had ever met... he insisted on taking me on a tour of the temples. Didn't mention that this would involve a water taxi. After wandering around some huge temple for an hour or so we sped off across the water, I full of well being for my new found friend but the ambiance was rudely interrupted by the driver of the boat unsheathing a bloody big knife after stalling the wobbling contrivance in the middle of the river.

It wasn't being stabbed to death that worried me, rather falling into the murky black water; swimming never my strong point. My, er, friend translated that I had to hand over all my money to the pirate. Luckily I had my dosh and passport tucked into my underpants and only a couple of hundred baht in my pocket. I was bereft of expensive jewelry and my plastic Casio watch unlikely to excite the most desperate of thieves. My friend handed over his watch in an attempt at persuading me of his innocence, the driver took the boat over to the far shore and I was helped off back on to the safety of terra firma. Basically I didn't have a clue as to where I was. Amazingly, fifty baht was handed back and a tuk-tuk driver instructed to take me to the hotel; I worried all the way that another rip-off was about to go down. The friend had the audacity to say he would contact me later but the nasty scowl I gave him must've seen him off, as I never heard from him again.

You couldn't really complain about being ripped off in such an, er, nice manner, large knife not withstanding. Actually, this incident along with the bar escapade concentrated my mind sufficiently to avoid any other rip-offs (other than trying to have long-term relationships with b-gals) in the next two decades! It has to be said that even back then when Bangkok was not particularly Westernized (or maybe because it wasn't) it was still a relatively safe and civilized place to live; only a small amount of sanity needed to avoid being ripped off – you could wander around most places at most times of the day without worrying about being attacked; just the gentlest amount of dissuasion sufficient to keep the con-artists at bay!

My mind soon centered by my first ride in a Tuk-Tuk. As a keen motorcyclist it didn't seem all that strange to me, soon learned to position myself so that my head wasn't banged into the overhead metal tube as the thing rattled and whined its way over the pot-holed road surface. Great fun. As most of the taxi's were old with minimal air-conditioning if you were lucky and no working meters, I found the Tuk-Tuks both cooler and cheaper – I think the only time I took another taxi during the three weeks was when I went back to the airport (prepaid from the hotel, can't recall how much so it must've been cheapish).

Traffic density wasn't as bad as now but it was probably just as noisy and polluted. Mind, I have never gone anywhere near a water taxi since that incident! Must say, back then Thais were much easier to bargain with; you were always ripped off by local standards but the degree was bearable, ten to fifty per cent rather than a factor, these days, of two to ten times the going rate.

Spent most of my nights loitering around various Patpong go-go's. Were they then filled with huge quantities of beautiful women? Alas not. I would say that the density of women in the bars was actually a lot less than now but then there were also an awful lot less punters to go round. I honestly can't picture any stunning women from back then, other than Mai, sufficiently sated to just enjoy the show. The really attractive gals had a certain hardness about them that did nothing for me. They definitely had lady-boys back then, too, but they were much more obvious than some of the cunning shims you see around these days. I didn't even want to talk to them, waved them off in open disgust – these days an open invitation to a beating but back then the mamasans would've done for them if they caused any problems!

On the Surawongse Road end of Patpong One there was a rather tubby tout who always tried to entice me elsewhere and I always asked him if he knew any virgins looking for farang (an unthinkable heresy back then) as I do recall arriving with the good intention of tracking one down; I never did find one, sob! Well, I came across plenty in later years but I was always in a relationship at the time. Going in cold turkey to the neon scene, they just weren't available, or at least weren't interested in poor old moi – I always saw off the more nefarious babes by the simple expedient of not looking very rich!

Bernard Trink then had a huge chunk of ink in the Bangkok World newspaper, giving out plenty of warnings on the rip-offs (mostly that the gals all had Thai pimps/husbands) and information on other bar areas but I was happy enough with Mai and knew I only had three weeks to enjoy the city before going back to farangland. Retrospectively, I most likely enjoyed the scene in the best possible way and don't know how on earth I managed to, over the next two decades, f..k things up so totally (other than fiscally which was just a case of keeping my dosh outside Thailand).

To be honest, the only impressions of the time that still have a clarity in my mind, the wild sex with Mai... I can even remember the little scowl she put on towards the end of our time together when I just didn't want to stop having sex, and more sex... blame those portly Belgians, there just weren't any decent, available women in Antwerp and I was making up for a year's abstinence!

The only Western food outlet that I recall, McDonalds on Silom – some Pizza places but my stomach can't easily digest that stuff. On the Silom corner of Patpong there was a small restaurant that served Thai and farang food which I used most days. Back in the UK, neither Indian nor Chinese food held any appeal for me – quite correctly as it turned out, mostly awful muck compared to Thai fried rice and chicken, for instance. Mind, the world's worst food must be in the Philippines! The pollution and heat has always dissuaded me from eating on the sidewalk – the level of pollutants much denser the nearer you get to the ground. My stomach survived my first three weeks in the Orient, anyway.

However, it has to be said that the only progress that twenty-odd years has really added to the city, the mass transit systems – the BTS and underground – which make it a much more pleasant place to shoot around. The sad fact is that the big secret about Thailand is out, the place infested and overwhelmed with foreigners; the open-minded would probably see it as evidence that diverse races can live happily together (more likely, total disinterest in each other) but all I see is possibilities closing down and everything becoming ruined by a certain sameness. Imported DJ's, identikit shopping centres, big, silly money invested in the neon areas (when all it needs is an excess of lovely women), superheated concrete jungles and ever nastier b-gals... if I was 26 again I might just have a much better chance with decent Thai gals who are now much more open to farang (but maybe have lost some of their Thainess in the process, you can't bloody well win!); but I ain't...

Another horror, the way Thais keep getting larger and larger, especially the men. At 5 foot ten inches I used to tower over the Thais but you now gets lots of male school kids in Bangkok who are taller than me. And often fat with it. The Thais seem to generally applaud the ever larger proportions of their compatriots but they look kinda freakish to me; and I am sure they will have heart problems later on. My last girlfriend was tiny by the new Thai standards but no shorter than any of my previous women going back twenty years (I seem wedded to gals who are a slender five foot nothing...) but when we went to Laos, which has almost no farang food outlets and not a lot of money to spend on food, she was actually taller than most of the young women there! This bodes ill for the future (and a pity it is an actual crime for farang to have sex with a Laotian gal before marriage!).

Crucially, propagation of information across the internet has absolutely ruined the nightlife scene – clowns who shouldn't be within a thousand miles of an Oriental woman infesting the neon areas whilst the babes reinforce their beliefs in their Thainess with ever more intricate rip-offs! As a now weary old hand I actually have a lot less chance of getting anywhere with the b-gals than someone straight off the plane for the first time. A certain innocence can take you a long way in Bangkok!

So most of the good is now long gone, the odds of getting lucky ever more dismal. Can't go back to a more pleasant time, can only find some backwater elsewhere and make damn sure not to mention it on the internet unlike a certain infamous webmaster who has already ruined Korat. I actually think of retreating to a nice cool climate but I am still a bit too young to die of boredom!