I checked out of the Sawasdee Banglamphu hotel and headed to a local internet cafe, The PC's were hooked up to the coin machines you find on washing machines (The washing instructions were still on them!). I needed to sort out some more accomodation and I quickly found that all the hotels were booked up that night (friday) and so had to book a more expensive alternative (just for one night). I had decided on the area of Sukhumvit, and provisionally made a reservation. I jumped in a taxi and 5 or 6 miles and thirty minutes of traffic jams later (100 baht!) got to the hotel to find out they were fully booked. I went to one across the road to find they were alot more expensive (over 20 quid!), but they had a sister hotel (Leela Hotel) which wasn't. I didn't fancy lugging my gear any further, so I booked there and jumped in another taxi. The room was basic, but on the seventh floor, so I took a couple of photos out the window (The Triple flicker flash on my camera later on must have looked strange to onlookers). I headed straight out to a Guesthouse (Number 1 Guesthouse) I know was on the next street up off the main strip and booked in there for the next three nights. I immediately regretted it. The place was populated by young Thai girls and the clientelle seemed to be middle aged men... I headed back to the hotel to change and then went out to see what the area had to offer. I walked up the road to the main stripand there were a lot of street food vendors selling their wares, most of it was unrecognizable, and the smells ranged from eyewateringly spicey to cloyingly sweet to competing with the drains to see who could set off my gag reflex.

The pavement of the main strip was, in essence, a street market, with breaks only in stalls for roads, bridges and openings for bars, shops and restaurants. The stalls sold everything from food to fake clothes to souvineers to knock off DVDs. One stall holder decided to try and stop me by grabbing my wrist, I instinctively grabbed his and squeezed, innocent or not, his hand was over my watch. He soon let go (my stern 'not interested' stare must be improving).

Most of the 'Farangs' there were white men with Thai girls. I noticed there were a lot of Thai girls about. Hang on... I thought the sleazy area was Patpong! So, pasty white lad on his own, it didn't take long for them to start making eyes, tapping my arm, calling out 'Hey Handsome' (Sounding just like the prostitutes in Vietnam films). I carried on walking, hoping to find a bar where I would end up with a girl on my lap whether I like it or not, and got to a big crossroad. Across on the other side was a big neon sign reading 'Soi Cowboy', No Way!

I'd noticed that there wasn't the hustle and bustle on the other side of the road, so I crossed over and there it was! The Promised Land! The Black Swan, English Bar. I went in... Bliss! I sat at the bar and ordered a pint. The english landlord was chatting to an elderly Aussie couple sat at the corner of the bar, between us was a bloke looking the worse for wear. But we had a chat anyway. He had a yank accent, but demanded that he was Scottish (although he admitted not being there since he left when he was 6), he was obssessed with money (he had been a bond trader), and he was rather depressed. By the sound of it something in his dealings here had gone badly.

We talked money, the housing market, why the Scottish hate the English (and why the English don't care), and then on into politics. We'd all had a few by this point. The landlord and Aussie couple joined our conversation and when they said they'd been impressed by what they'd seen of Tony Blair I was able to get into top rant mode. The first time on the Holiday, may there be many more :). I had a go at all the usual suspects as well as the WTO and World Bank, Citing General Suharto as my example (It happened close by). And the Landlord gave me a book 'The New Rulers Of The World' by John Pilger. He had a few more books on a shelf by the bar, I now know where to leave mine.

We got onto my Maudlin Boy was so depressed, it can't be money as he's loaded, and you can live on peanuts out here (not literally). But then, beered up, I utter 'You can make a Peasant into a King, but you can't make a King into a Peasant'. That really impressed the landlord for some reason.

The landlord asked how I liked the area and I told him about my walk there. He told me the girls are only interested in getting you into the bars they work for and buy them drinks as they get a cut, nothing else will go on. It's just a bit too blatant for my tastes.