Brainless in Bangkok


I woke up after four hours sleep, my body aching, my ears ringing from the abuse meted out by Patpong’s premier bar band, Khun Dave and The Daves. (I don’t know if that was really their name, but they certainly looked they were all called Dave, work in an insurance broker’s office, and still dream of rock stardom at the age of 43.)

Early on in the evening, I went to the toilet, and the attendant not only turned on the taps for me to wash my hands, but gave me a back rub and an incredibly painful massage – another man walked into the room while he was trying to pull my arms out of their sockets. I wonder if he thought he was seeing another part of a show, and was disappointed that it was a middle aged European man instead of a very unhappy looking Thai girl.

Anyway, getting an impromptu massage and later being pulled over the top of a bar by a man desperate for me to do some shots seemed to have little consequence this morning; my body was roughly fine. It was my brain and ears that were unhappy with me. I endured breakfast and another freezing cold shower (I only get hot water when the hotel repairman is standing in the shower, and I couldn’t get him to accompany me this morning) then went to the airport.

I was worried I’d miss my flight, but with a clear road to Don Muang, I got there two hours early. That should have been stress-free, but although I had got a thousand baht last night to pay the taxi driver, my drunken brain had made me hide it at the bottom of my bag, not in my wallet. Cue frantic hungover swearing on the road to the airport, before I reverse engineered the thought processes of a drunken fool and rediscovered my cash.

There is little to do at Don Muang. I played a game on my phone until the battery died, then read Treasure Island, which I was amazed it’s taken me this long in life to get around to. I got off the plane at Changi, got straight into a taxi, and showed up at home to be greeted by a cooing, cheerful baby, who seemed to have elongated herself in my absence. Happy, indeed, was I, at least until the sleep deprivation caught up with me and the world turned grey again.

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2 responses to “Brainless in Bangkok”

    • The Daves can be found everywhere. I last saw the Hong Kong version supporting Slash a few years ago, grinding out stadium-level pub rock. Perhaps there’s a group of Daves in Brighton…

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