Pattaya, Eastern Thailand, Thailand
Pattaya Beach is a place which has managed over the years to earn itself the unfortunate title "Patpong by the sea", due to the huge amount of Go-Go bars and girly shows that have sprung up at the southern end of the strip. This reputation is probably a bit unfair, and has its roots in the Second World War, when randy young sailors would pull into port looking for a good time. Now, however, Pattaya attracts families by the thousand, and if you ignore the most southern end of the strip and stay by the beach, you probably wouldn't even know there was anything seedy about the place. Of course, I've never seen a holiday show on television which remembers that anything exists south of the shopping center, but that's hardly to be expected. Again, my travel agent back in England seems to have checked me into three days of unashamed luxury. My hotel invoice describes what I have in front of me at the moment as an ocean view, and they aren't kidding; if it weren't for the horizon, I'm certain I'd be able to see all the way home! My room on the fifth floor has a set of French doors onto a balcony overlooking a wide view of the bay and the hotels private beach, with palm trees, guys on surf boards, the lot. Later on my journey, I will be going to Hawaii - and I can't imagine it could look much different from this. The pool, which is directly below my balcony, has a huge flower engraved into the bottom of it, the symbol of the Dusit hotel chain, and the hotel itself seems to be slightly smaller than the average airport. Each floor is circular, and all the walls are comprised of huge picture windows looking out on to a panoramic paradise. It really is such a shame that so much expense is spent on making sure tourists can spend several days visiting a place as culturally diverse as Thailand and pretend that they are on a beach in California! I wouldn't have been surprised if somebody had told me the whole building actually revolved. I went out. It was mid-afternoon so I figured I would take a leisurely stroll around the bay and see what Pattaya had to offer. I acquired a local map from reception and set off along the beach road. The trouble is, there is no scale on the map - Pattaya beach is a two mile bay, at either end of which are the two main places of interest in the area, one wholesome and family oriented and the other, well, not so much so! I strolled along, the Sun setting over the clear waters, and marvelled at the range of shops and street stalls I was passing, selling both Thai souvenirs and western delicacies such as donuts and pizza. The Northern end of the strip is certainly very much aimed at the tourist in us all. Restaurants displaying large signs advertising delicious food (have you ever seen one advertising revolting food?), Gem shops, tourist TAT (which, interestingly, is the name of the Thai Tourist Authority), and one place that wanted to offer me a physical massage. I can only imagine this to be the opposite of a surreal massage, where you stay at home all day and imagine that somebody is stroking your back with a wet fish! After about an hour of walking, I decided that it was just too hot to be attempting such a trek during daylight hours. I arrived back at the hotel in a quivering, steaming heap, and enquired at reception about any other way of getting further along the beach road in one piece."Have you tried our fitness centre, Sir?" the receptionist asked, that ever present Thai smile refusing to give away whether she was genuinely worried about me or had simply had so much experience of western tourists that she had mastered the fine art of British sarcasm. Undercover of darkness (Insert James Bond theme here), I returned to the Beach Road and carried on walking-eventually reaching the point that I had reached earlier. Shortly beyond this point, things like Burger King and McDonalds started to spring up. I knew I was getting towards the night life. Sure enough, four hundred yards further on the road ended, and was replaced by a mile long pedestrian walkway over the entrance of which was a huge marble archway on which was written "Only sexual deviants beyond this point". Actually that's a lie-what it said was "Welcome to Walking Street, South Pattaya". Nonetheless, I'm sure they were still one letter out, because I've never seen so many Go-Go bars in my life: and just in case you forget for a moment what the excuse for all this is, the archway is topped off with a big picture of a winking sailor! Clearly, the word subtle hasn't yet reached these shores! The entire length of the mile was crowded with Thai families out for an evening's stroll, indicating that the locals don't see anything wrong with any of it. I am led to believe that it is not unusual here for girls, when asked at school what they want to be when they grow up, to reply "A prostitute like mummy" - and since it is clearly one of the few easy jobs with a steady wage out here, I can well believe it. I may not understand it, but I can believe it. Every store front is a bar, in which the most striking nymphets in long red dresses crowd around all the bars waiting to pounce on any red blooded male who sits at their bar stool. At least a proportion of these will be the ladyboys you've heard about on TV (pun intended) - men either dressed up as women or having gone the whole hog and had the operation... and believe me, anybody would be hard pressed to tell the difference. It's not like in the West where a man dressed as a woman normally stands out a mile; here, the only way you're likely to know is by asking. I'm told by a young male group in the hotel, who are clearly here for all the wrong reasons, that it is difficult if not impossible to tell the difference until it's too late, which really makes the mind boggle. The Thai's have turned transvestism into an art form! But here's the thing: I didn't see a single girl (or whatever) who looked remotely tacky. No standing around on street corners wearing skin tight leather and f-me boots here, they were all perfectly dressed, they were all beautiful, and they all had smiles from ear to ear and seemed to be out for a night on the town. Up and down the street, families with young children were stopping to look, or to eat at street side stalls, if you didn't know what was going on behind the scenes courtesy of the bars and the mama-sans taking care of the girls, you could almost think this was a top nightclub district and nothing more. It's all illegal, of course, but widely tolerated. Guys stand outside each bar, looking out for the local constabulary - by the time the police get into any of the establishments, everybody is innocently sipping their drink and saying "Can I help you, officer?". Inside the bars, according to John (name changed to protect the guilty), one of the sexual athletes staying in my hotel, the girls are looked after not by dodgy east-end pimps but by the mama-san, who is essentially mother to all the girls. The girls will drink with you, dance with you, and you can buy the girls "lady drinks". If you want to take the girl away with you, you pay the mama-san an exit fee which relieves the girl of her obligation to work and she can leave with you. You can then either take the girl to a dodgy hotel, of which there appear to be many, or you can pay a bit more for "long time" which means she will stay with you all night and, if you like, be your companion for several days. In fact, I'm led to believe that many of the girls become so attached to their clients that they spend weeks with them. According to a local guide, girls have even been known to commit suicide upon realising that their client doesn't really love them and isn't coming back for them the next week as promised. I think I'll leave it there. A full debate on the rights and wrongs of what happens here is beyond the scope of this journal. Depressing, yes. Wrong? You decide.My complete travel journals can be found at www.offexploring.com/globalwanderer
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