Sunday, April 13, 2014

PATTAYA - HEAVEN OR HELL?

Well, there I was, 11 am on a Sunday morning, sitting in a bar in some sleazy alley in Pattaya. OK, so it was across the street from my hotel and I couldn't be stuffed walking any further because its too bloody hot. This is not something I would normally be doing at that time. But I was only nursing a relatively harmless can of Coke Zero, unlike most others around who were still hard at it from the night before. And my hotel room does have to get cleaned sometime. Anyway, on the three giant screen TV's, there was good old AC/DC, all hot'n'sweaty, belting out Highway to Hell at a volume that was setting off car alarms. Go Angus, and take that you Euro wusses! That's classic Oz Rock, that is. Then I thought, well, that's probably a pretty appropriate description of Pattaya generally. Highway to Hell. No speed limits and toll free-perhaps-until you actually get there.

In fact I did already opine to some of you that one gets an uneasy feeling around here that pretty soon, God will lose patience with all the sinning going on in this town to the point where he will wreak his divine vengeance upon it, and smite it from existence in a pillar of righteous fire. You know what, yesterday morning there was a thunderstorm here that convinced me that was exactly what was happening! Holy shit it was terrifying, I can't recall a louder one. But it turned out to be a false alarm, vis a vis Armageddon. Just a routine meteorological event, but highly memorable all the same.

Blind Freddy could tell you that Pattaya is the world's largest knock shop. Whatever your particular bent, you can get it here. Its the mega-mall of carnal desire, normal, abnormal and just plain freaked right out, and let me tell you, I've seen freaky over the last 40 years. Probably the crassest part is called Walking Street, down near the beach, which just goes off like a bomb every night. Freak central, with busloads of unsuspecting and soon-to-be traumatised tourists dumped there just so they can say they've been there. I reckon that's just a distraction. The less spectacular but more insidious underbelly of the place is right next to where I'm staying. You can't say Big Bike Tours doesn't look after their customers!

Anyway, I'm not going to elaborate too much, call me if you want the details. Nothing I can say or do is going to change anything here, and I certainly have no right to occupy the moral high ground, (Hell, I've just had so much oil rubbed into my skin I feel like a Drizabone raincoat--but I do look years younger!) but the truth is that this town is all about sex for sale on an industrial scale, and that, as always, some people are making a heap of money from it at the expense of a lot of others. Ok, nothing new about that, and you can argue over the morality or even the necessity and practicality of it all till you're blue in the face. But I think that underneath all the partying-and there is no shortage of punters wanting to play-Pattaya is not really Fantasyland, the happiest kingdom of them all. I actually think it's a sad place. If people are willing participants, ok fine, that's their business, but I do get the feeling that a lot of people who work here have no choice but to do what they do. And yet even that is unbelievably well disguised most of the time, such is the enigma that is Thailand. I guess if you see and do the same thing all the time, then that is by definition, normal. And then you just try to be as positive as you can. The Buddhists' high level of tolerance and acceptance probably helps, though I'm not sure the Buddha would actually approve. If he does, I might consider switching. I reckon the Christian God might be taking notes though. And of course Allah would definitely be outraged, but apparently it doesn't take much to upset him, and this is not in his electorate anyway. Just as well, because you would find Lord Lucan and Jimmy Hoffa having a beer together before you found a virgin around here.

Moving right along, the annual week of madness that is Songkran (Thai New Year) has just erupted on the streets of Pattaya. Have a look at my earlier blog entry for Songkran in Phuket in 2008 for the squelchy and saturated details. Suffice to say it is in fact impossible to walk down the street without getting (at least) soaking wet. I don't begrudge the Thai kids a bit of fun, they really love it. But inevitably of course, there are squillions of idiot tourists -mostly British lager louts in this area (ie tattooed boofheads in shorts and singlets) -who want to get right into it, and are armed with humungous water cannons and bags of coloured flour to prove it. Well, I suppose a Pom having a wash is a good thing. I carefully timed this trip to avoid most of Songkran, but a day or two overlap was necessary. So, basically I'm a refugee in the hotel until I can sneak out for a feed later tonight, and hopefully I can dry my stuff before heading up to Bangkok tomorrow afternoon for my flight home tomorrow (Monday) night. But there's always a few people on the ball. This year's big seller on the streets is a waterproof pouch that you can sling around your neck to keep your important documents safe and dry.

Did I mention the food?? Sure, I did! That's one thing I will seriously miss when I leave Thailand this time. Half the things I've eaten on this trip I've never even seen before, and the textures and taste combinations are beyond mere words. I'll have some work to do when I get back to replicate this fantastic gastronomic experience. Till next time, thanks for coming. Did I really say that?

No comments: