Back in Thailand….

Dubai was a disaster.  When I last wrote – my plan was to spend the rest of the day/night crying into my pillow.   As it turns out… I’d be crying the next day.  In pain.  On the plane.

Sitting in my hotel room, my pal called and said there is a Brunch happening at McGettigans Irish bar.  Wahoo!   So off I went.

McGettigans during Ramadan must be the worst Brunch out there.  The food was absolute crap with less selection than the Sizzlers salad bar.   Still, we were not there for the food.   We had several hours of boozing ahead.  It had been after all, a month since my last drink.

I’d be lying if I said I could recall all the events of that evening/night.   Being off the grogg for a month had an effect as I got drunk.  Badly.   I have no recollection of where I ended up – except at some point during the night I did manage to find my way back to my hotel room.

The hotel room which I received a phone call at 6am, telling me my Emirates Chauffeur was downstairs waiting for me!  Thank goodness I booked one, as I’d have been asleep until house-keeping hoofed me out.

Luckily I had packed the previous day.  What else did I have to do?   When the phone woke me – I didn’t have a clue where I was.  I was fully dressed.  My head was pounding.   I ran to the toilet to throw up – which was already full from last nights/this mornings vomit.  It wasn’t nice.

No time for a shower.  Quick splash, clean the toothy-pegs,  throw on some Brut and get the hell out of there.

The drive to the airport was bad.  I wanted to puke.  The sun was burning my eyes.  My pockets were completely empty of all cash.  I have no idea why, or how I got home.  I can only assume I tipped my cab driver a few hundred bucks?

At the airport – the poor bastard held out his hand, wanting a tip for driving me to the airport.  Normally I would, but I had no cash on me.  Then again, the ride is factored into the price of a Business Class ticket – and it’s not like he has a bad job, driving around in a BMW all day.  Sod him.

Before I could check in – I had to make a b-line for the toilets.  Once again, I had to throw up.  I sat there, in a mess, on the floor, wondering how I could possibly postpone the flight and find somewhere to sleep it off.

I pulled myself together, stuck my face under the tap and tried to clean off  puke-splash from my shirt.

I found a corner in the lounge and guzzled 3 bottles of cold water.  Never more than 1 minute from the toilets.

On the plane, the lovely Cabin Crew lady saw that I looked like a sack of shit.  She asked if I was o.k – to which I responded with “brunch”….   she knew.   All Emirates girls (and boys) know about the Dubai Brunches.  She took pity on me and brought me some pills and cold water.  What an Angel.

As soon as we were in the air, the seat was reclined, the mattress was laid out and I fell asleep, crying into my pillow.

I slept pretty much the whole flight.   Bangkok airport was pretty quiet and I was in the next Emirates car within 45 mins of touch-down.

Straight to soi 4……

I have found a few decent hotels which I like now… but that didn’t stop me being an idiot and trying something new.   This time I booked a Suite at SM Grande.   It was 3000 per night which I thought sounded reasonable.

I didn’t have any small cash on me.. just airport ATM fresh 1000’s.  I usually tip the Emirates driver a few hundred, but as I had nothing small, and the car ride is all included in the price of the ticket – sod him.  He’s Thai, driving around in a Benz all day.  Life aint that bad for him.

SM Grande – What a shit-hole!  I can only assume the current owners are just trying to get as much money out of the place – and are not reinvesting a penny.  It’s old.  The furniture is old and knackered.  The aircon in the bedroom pumped out hot air, the wifi didn’t work, there was hair in the bath and the 28” TV was the same size as a washing machine.

Don’t be tempted by Suites.

The weirdo neighbor next door for some bizarre reason would leave his hotel room door open all day while he sat in there with some skank listening to crap music.   Each time I left my room – I closed his door.   Looking back, I should have walked in and called him a fucking asshole.  Next time.

I arrived late Saturday night and just couldn’t be bothered to go anywhere.  The lounge was cold so I just kicked back with some food and watched the Washing Machine.

Sunday was a meet-up with PRP.  He has been traveling Oz for the last 3 months, so I went to meet him at No Idea for lunch.  No one word about Oz was spoken. Just tales of what he’s been upto since he’s been back.    Twins, Cowboy, Soi 33 etc….

It wasn’t long before we were in full drinking mode.   Too Easy Bar, Top Secret, Foxy’s and various others.

It had been a month.  Can’t say I was overwhelmed to be back.  If anything, it was a little disappointing.  Yeah, it was good to catch up with the lads, but the old skanks in the bars just don’t really get me excited anymore.

By midnight, everyone feeling drunk, I was glad when it was decided we’d call it a night.

I was happy that it was my last night in the craphole that is SM Grande and the next day I would be heading home to Hua Hin.

Miss Tim had moved us into our new home.  Hopefully all my shit made its way to the new house – and I won’t be seeing Motor-cy taxi drivers wearing my sneakers over the next few months.

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