Anyways... yeah...Pattaya... what can one say about it... a dreamy location where the old, tired and ugly whores retire to accommodate and service an aging population of sexpats. And when I mean aging, I mean... Geriatrics with dentures and zimmer frames... and possibly nappies, but thats just an educated guess. Although, we did visit in the day time, so I think perhaps the younger working girls might creep out at night. Got to give the old working horses a gander I guess.
Like every other globalised country in this world, you have your Holiday Inn, your Ibis, Amari, Nova, Mercure etc... all beach side. Next to them, You have shopping malls with Nike, Mango, Guess, Esprit, FCUK, Crocs, Burger King, Macdonalds, Donut King, Starbucks, etc etc. Same same but, well, same.
The beach itself – Shite. I got so excited about going to the beach I actually wore swimmers (rare for me), when I got there, I took one look at it, and decided I wouldn't even bother getting my feet sandy let alone wet.
The water looked like tepid swill, filled with sewerage, oil and floating plastic. I'm thinking if you had any open abrasions and went in for a dip, infection would ensue.
There was actually no beach smell. None, whatsoever. It was totally masked by the smell of the storm drains, which I assume ran directly into the ocean.
We got their before 11am, and were watching sexpats guzzle white wine with ice cubes, before mid day. Probably nursing their hangovers. Every white dude seemed red eyed and hung over, or just down right 'special'.
Best thing about Pattaya, the flower market and buying 4 turtles - Which I obviously have to name Leonardo, Donatello, Michael Angelo and Raphael.
I wouldn't be able to own turtles in Australia with out some license of some kind, which I would never bother to get. Officious twats. Here in Asia, they eat them. So I don't think they much care that my TMNT now live in a salad bowl as a centre piece on the dining table.
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