Getting robbed by hookers in Bangkok.

How was your night?
Not good.
No?
My iPad got nipped?
Awwhh.
I took a girl back to my room and she took it.
Do you have a cell phone at least for wifi?
She took that too.

One of the two Scotts I had met the night before at Cheap Charlie's in Bangkok walked back in wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Part of why I recognized him. I was wearing the same clothes too, but I'm a Fannytrekker. This guy had been proper fucked in Bangkok proper rolled as well. The bar opened at 5, and he looked like he'd already started hours before. His salmon colored shorts and his stripped polo, his tales yesterday of international business around the world, all had a fresh taint around it now. Not calling his tales lies, but he hadn't seemed like a rook job that would get rolled by some smooth talking skirt in one of the worlds most notorious cities. To his credit, he seemed like he could afford it, and he actually blamed his son and mate who were suppose to join him at the bar that night, neither showed, so he was without a wingman (or whatever the British equivalent is).

The other Scot didn't show up, but other familiar faces made their rounds. Cheap Charlie's has a very western feel to it and draws a thick crowd around the various artifacts decorating the bars facade. The Gents son and his mate showed up tonight and I we shared my story about getting hustled in Beijing a few weeks prior. We had a great laugh about it, and I felt the commiseration softened the blow of him losing his property to a lady of the night. He blamed his inebriation.

Awhile later another older American showed up and, fannypack and all, asked us fellow white men, where he could find some trouble. These Austrsilian living Scots were more than happy to direct him to where he could find some beautiful young women. He gad just spent the last two weeks traveling with his daughter and his wife. They had gone home earlier in the day and he was continuing on by himself. His goal was to find a beautiful gal to be his girlfriend for 2 weeks. To love him, travel with him, and allow him to give him everything a "boyfriend" might give. The Scots explained it is very easy to find shirk like that. In jest they added that if he so desired she'd even come back to America and be their maid. Most of the cost of her company would come in the form of gifts, jewelry, dresses, travel, meals, and more or less all expense paid vacation for his escort. He said he might want to fly to Cambodia or the Philippines with her. The response when he said that was it could be a nice litmus test as he circled the streets of prostitutes to ask if they own a passport.

This is what a non prompted interaction is with almost every single male in Bangkok. Especially at night.

Infected MRSA toe. Warning: Graphic image

Well my toe is infected. Worse case scenario is MRSA. Best case scenario it's just a pussy cut. Being on the far side of the world complicates things for me though. Further complicated by it being my little toe on my foot with only two toes. I lost the other three in a lawn mower incident when I was 11 months old while my mother was mowing the lawn. I say incident instead of accident because to this day I don't really know what happened. I don't have any memories from that age, and once during a heated exchange my mom told me it was my dad and not her who was operating the mower. I visited the lawn in 2012 and talked to the couple who bought the house, they reaffirmed that it was my dad, and I was riding on top of the push mower. The 80's right!?!?  So who fucking knows what happened. Then again maybe a hypnotist or a strong LSD trip might bring some toddler memory out of my subconscious. Needless to say, my baby toe is precious to me. It allows me to wear flip flops! The infection started from a small blister that formed on my toe from walking all over in my Converse. Later, while living in a river barge house, I hung out in the evenings barefoot. Put my feet in the river. Swatted away flies that landed on the raw blister. I didn't think much about it (except the flies as a disease vector). After traveling to the islands, attending the full moon party, and feeling it might be prudent to give it some air instead of keeping it bundled up in socks and shoes, I bought some sandals. I love wearing sandals. They're my preferred footwear, even when it is raining in Mendocino. I didn't bring my Rainbow sandals in the first place because despite this being the sandal capital of the world, I hold being able to run or agile in an emergency as important. Running in sandals sucks, and I can only imagine how my Beijing escape wouldn't gone down without my All Stars. The trouble with the sandals I bought is that they were cheap plastic style sandals and ended up cutting into my toe deeper along the crease of the strap. I woke up two days ago with a pain in my foot. No longer a sore toe, I was walking with a slight limp to my gait and needing drugs to lower the inflammation and pain. Alcohol is generally my first line of protection from all ills (and I stand by that, especially for colds). Thailand however is rich with pharmacies that don't require prescriptions from doctors (whom I swore off years ago). I managed to get some strong ibuprofen with codine and some antibiotics. The antibiotics are the correct type for festering open sores, and the pharmacist, after I showed her a photo of my toe, also gave me some antibiotic cream. I got some hydrogen peroxide, clean dressings, iodine, and her prescribed cream "Fusidic acid". I'm keeping it clean and changing the dressing every few hours. My largest concern at this point is having to fly home in 11 hours. With a 9 hour layover in Beijing tomorrow, then another 12 hour flight to SFO. I didn't want to ignore it and just take pills to drown the pain out. So I picked up the antibiotics, the cream, the dressings, and fresh socks. I'm not wearing the sandals because they basically started the chaff that spread the infection. I haven't started the antibiotics yet because I'm still drinking. Sitting in a bar in Bangkok in the afternoon, killing daylight before I head to the airport. I could start the antibiotics, but they'd be useless with all the alcohol in my system. Fannytrekkers need to weigh the risk and reward of their actions.

I bought some gifts/souvenirs today, I'm carrying them around in a plastic bag. I may buy a last minute bag (roller or backpack, I haven't decided) to put all these items in before I board my flight. Luggage is such a pain in the ass, but I don't want to get my shit lost because its loosely placed in a hefty bag. For those who have never had the joy of riding the Dirty Dog in the US, the most common form of luggage in the American south is the hefty bag. It really puts perspective on those who pay $200 for a commuter flight from Nashville to Atlanta, versus those who take the Dog for $30. I don't feel like I'll be violating any of my Fannytrekker principles. I'll pick it up last minute and only deal with it in the airport , where it is the least likely place to experience the typical travel burdens of luggage. Hell, they've got moving walkways in airports. The advantage of fannypack only travel presents itself when moving around between hotels, between trains, between ferries. When you can just hop onto the back of a moped taxi instead of paying some ass $20 to drive you across an island to your bungalow. And finally sorry for the graphic photo. I know some of you want to see a picture of the infection, but no one wants to look at my toes.

Bangkok Prostitues

If you look destitute enough, it doesn't matter how white your skin is. A man with a bottle of Johnny walker in the biggest prostitute block outside of Amsterdam (likely bigger). Especially considering the legal difference. Women clicking at you in the street like a woman getting cat called in NY. The difference is the power dynamic; they could never over power me, so fear is missing. It is the same endless harassment. I just want to take it all in (no lady boy pun intended) and drink my beer and red label. When I do find a stool to sit on in an off alley, cars and tourists keep passing by, but with my head down and a bottle of liquor in my grip, no one speaks to me. If I would've tried on the man drag of Nana, i would be sitting 20 feet from a prostitue in any direction.

The absolute nature of sex tourism is undeniable. Throughout Bangkok, or any major city with a vice element, there is prostitution. Seeing it front row center is eye opening. Earlier I met two wonderful men from Scotland in a pub.  We talked many things from politics to guns to sports. They were awesome fellows. When the time came to part, and mind you I didn't realize so clearly that in Bangkok you only drink long enough to get ready to find a sex worker. They both excused themselves and I gushed about the lovely lady I just parted ways with.

It's said to be the worlds oldest profession. And in Thailand is said to be 90% voluntary with the worlds lowest rate of sex trafficking. Even with the lady boys. I still don't feel comfortable with it. Not just because I get laid so easily (call that a brag or low expectations), but I don't feel right pushing my demand into the supply chain of female subjugation. End rant

 There are street vendors selling Ciallis and Viagra alongside oral jelly. Now not being very familiar with butt sex, it took me a minute to put the two together. I had a good laugh at myself the minute it dawned on me, considering all the ladyboys. Not that there is anything wrong with consensual anal, but most of the lady boys are 11-15.

Crazy shit though. You really need to see the miss matched 19 year old Thai girl with the 55 year old Australian man. Or the 26 year old Thai woman with the overweight 35 year old American. It is predominantly older folks. And obviously younger women, but then again, it is said to be nearly impossible to tell. All the ladies and lady boys have breast implants and braces.  Nose jobs, skin whitening, chin implants, and ribs removed. This shit is a business.

Mopeds are fun to ride, until your friends see you on one. That's the old saying about fucking fat chicks. But everyone here is doing it, and just like having that extra cushion for the pushin, it is a hell of a good time. Having rented bikes for a couple days, we got to see the entire island. It was difficult getting accustomed to it at first. I ride a Harley Sportster at home and the weight, power, and balance, are completely different. The tires are so skinny it gives you a sketchy feeling leaning hard into turns, and going downhill you constantly feel like you're going to fly head first over the handlebars. This is never the case on a Harley where you have a low center of gravity, wide tires, and endless power for hill climbs.

They sell half liters of gasoline on the street here. There are regular gas stations too, but then there are these full (or mostly full) glass bottles of refilled whiskey. I assume they're full of gasoline. Some of the stations say gasohol on the signs in front of the pump, but when you look at the bottles, they very in color from clear with a tinge of brown, to a dull red. And I mean they vary among a group of bottles liked up together. I never pic gases any street gas, mostly because it was twice the price. I suspect though that it was all straight up gas because when you rented you bike they came almost bone dry. You could also return them bone dry, but I bet 90% of tourists don't. So onto power of the $8/day bike rental, these rental shops were getting a shit ton of free gas off tourists. The bike I got was from a ship next door to the resort, and after seeing the scam (maybe that's too hard of a word), it made sense why every 100 meters thought out the entire island people are renting bikes. The shop we went to was 200 baht, but we saw some advertising 100 baht. I couldn't believe the 100 baht price. Felling it too good to be true. But after seeing the competitiveness of bike rentals, I get how it can be a popular business.

The nice thing about having your own scooter instead of taxi or tuk tuk rides is just how cheap it is. A taxi wanted 200 baht for the two of us. That's the same as a day's rental of a moped! And don't worry about a DUI. There aren't any cops. I was worried about keeping a clear head though, so riding into town and getting blitzed was out of the question. Riding during the day was marvelous though. Secret beaches, luxury resorts, beautiful national parks with waterfall and uncut tropical rainforests. I wish I would've brushed up on my plant and tree identification. The only ones I'm familiar with is teak, Palm, coconut palm, and that's it. Teak wood is everywhere in Thailand and owning a sailboat, I know it's value worldwide. Here you'll see huge beams of teak being used as footpaths. Regular handrails made with the nicest grain and beauty that only teak can provide. Our raft guide had a weathered teak paddle he steered our boat with, and I commented it was worth an easy $500 in the us.

Skipped a rave last night. Didn't feel up to another huge party like the full moon. Looked at some videos of the "waterfall party" on snapchat this morning and remembered that while I enjoy partying, listening to electronic music has never been one of my favorite things.

Full moon party

The full moon party was exactly what you would expect. Half naked 20 year olds, running around in body paint under a full moon (which you don't notice past all the neon lights) with fire twirling poi, fire jump rope, fire limbo, fire breathing, water slides (with fire hoops), and mushroom shakes (which were bunk, but I was so drunk who knows if it had a big effect. They sell $10 buckets of booze that consist of unopened 1/4 liter bottles of vodka with a bottle of redbulls and a bottle of ginger ale. It's all unopened so people don't get dosed, and it's in a bucket so it is served on ice for you and your friends. They throw like 8 straws in. I shared mine with Jo,but basically kept drinking them without thinking. Delicious night life.

I got into the jump rope three times. It burned me each time. Only my fault once though. The first time I jumped in someone else fucked it up. The second time it was me running in on and upswing and it just bashed fire into my chest and chin. I could smell the singed hair. The final time I got in perfect, but before I could enjoy it some drink ass fell in and messed it up. Then, within between my legs, the fire helped to burn off whatever hair was left on my thighs and make my cut off jean shorts a little shorter.  I quit after that.

Met some cool kids from Telluride CO who were also staying at your resort. We planned on meeting up in a few hours to go in on a taxi boat ride back to hotel. They were the same price as a regular taxi, but on a fucking boat. Unfortunately we were staying at a resort with a large sandbar, so no boats could get into where we were at. Electronic music blared away as thousands danced, mushroom shakes and what was probably Molly was being consumed by giddy college kids on their extended spring breaks. The night faded into a blur for me from another neon bucket of liquor. And no one ever really noticed the moon.

Inviting people you meet to visit your home.

Getting sold tourist trips has always been the same. They package together an experiences of a one size fits all manner. Take you around to private restaurants, museums, snack counters, and busses. You wait on their time tables and go to their destinations. It isn't all bad, many of the people you meet are fantastic with great life stories. People talk about the farm cooking school they went to; they harvested fresh herbs and vegetables to cook into their Thai meals. The day spent on mopeds cruising around the countryside of small rural towns. Nights sleeping in floating houses on rivers. The beautiful waterfalls and beaches that they bathed in. They also however talk about the tiger temple with doped up sleeping tigers. The elephant rides with bull hook prodding. Getting driven around Bangkok in tuk tuks where they take everyone to the same 7 Buddhist temples. Giant Buddha, marble temple, golden mount etc. They take you to tailors, to their family restaurants and for a long boat ride. It's all one big game that varies only in small details. Each foreigner tells the same story. Not to say it is bad, but I've never traveled in a country where everything felt so catered and packaged. It doesn't seem to matter which tuk tuk, which travel agent, or which taxi you hooked up with. The stories were all very similar.

All this bitching and moaning probably stems from not having control over the timing of events. Between the river boat and the train ride to the south we stayed in a fancy hotel, are incredible sea food, met a lovely couple from Monterey and Ireland. And dig car bombs at 1 am. That spontaneousness feels amazing and gets everyone in good spirits (especially with lots of spirits. I invited the Irish guy, who flys for Norwegian Airlines, up to Fort Bragg next time he was having a multi day layover at SFO. He was having a layover this week in Bangkok and had met the girl from Monterey on tinder. They seemed pleased with their connection, and pleased with meeting us. It probably turned their blind date in to a more relaxing double date. I bought rounds for them, they bought rounds for us, it was perfect. He said he will come visit and hook me up with flight hours at LLR Little River since he's a certified Flight instructor. I told him I'd take him salmon fishing in return.

Some cool things I saw these last few days. A seal swimming, some Dolphins, my first ever flying fish, and a thin jersey girl with the words Good and Girl tattooed in cursive on her upper thighs below her cutoff shorts. She wasn't fooling anyone. I got my haircut, rode on a train (where the attendant secretly sold you beer since Thailand's trains are dry. I also saw a guy with a monster fannypack and nothing else. I thought Oh My God! I've found another Fanny Trekker. But then I spoke with him and he said all his stiff is in a rolling luggage bag he is sharing with his girl friend. I could be accused of the same cheating because of traveling with Jo, but I refuse to keep anything in her bag.  Maybe for a second, but as soon as we start moving, it's all repackage into my fannypack. His was also twice the size of mine. With a mat and shoes dangling off of it. It just looked like a small daypack that was uncomfortably being carried around his waist. So until further notice, I remain the worlds only Fanny Trekker.

Bad tourists.

"We paid for a tour, not to be crammed in a van like sheep in a cattle car" she said in her heavy Indian accent after about 5 minutes into loading the different tour groups into the vans. It was 730 am and we were all just getting up and ready to take a country side tour of Thailand. Most were to be returning to Bangkok that afternoon, a couple of us would stay out on River barges in "luxury air conditioned huts". It was cool inside, but pissing and shitting in a hole over a river feels a little less than luxury. The Indian woman continued. "It's muggy in here, it smells. We didn't ask to be a part of a tour with them. Could you move these bags? What's in them? I don't know why I'm complaining, you aren't going to do anything about it. She probably doesn't understand half of what I'm saying."

Some people get mad so easily. Anyway, driving around with them wasn't too distracting. Especially considering how fast our van driver was going. In Thailand people pass on two lane roads by just going around cars regardless of oncoming traffic. Like the car you're passing, and the cars speeding at you at 100km/hr, just move over to create a suicide lane. Mind you, cars traveling the other way are also doing this insane passing technique. It is so common I actually saw a car doing it toward us that had a red light bar they turned on while doing it.

Two night stay on a floating barge is an unforgettable experience. Under north the boat are hundreds of fish. A perch looking species, and they eat the scraps and poop the come off the boat. Discharging waste directly into the river is not cool with me. But it's what everyone is doing, and I'm not about to pack out my shit like I'm at the Grand Canyon on mount Whitney. Oh well.

Part of our stay included a "waterfall" that was bone dry, another series of waterfalls that were gorgeous, a float trip on a bamboo raft, and a visit to the Death Railroad that was built by POWs in WWII. We also had included a visit to the Tiger Temple and rides on elephants. Not too excited about posing for pictures with doped up tigers that are being fed Xanax so they don't maul you, we skipped it. We also skipped the elephant rides. It's one of those tourist things that everyone does when going to Asia. But fuck torturing animals with bull hooks and making them work all day. I'd be thrilled to see them in the wild, hell a fucking tiger in the wild would fucking rule. The countryside has all been deforested so habitat is sparse. Plus poachers. It is nice to know they're still out there though.