Thailand. Tom Yum. The Beach. Sex Tourism. Thailand.
I fell in love with Thailand well before The Hangover, when I read a book by Alex Garland called The Beach. It was later made into a critically forgotten film starring the impeccable Leo Di Cap, easily his master role trumping not only Romeo and Juliet, but the Great Gatsby as well, two other books that paled in comparison as neither had pot fields or a hidden paradise civilization run by burners.
While R&J and Gatsby are decent reads, The Beach was like traveller porn. It was the backpackers 50 Shades of Grey.
Traveling for work is the dream realized. It’s something I’ve always wanted, and always seems like cheating really. To be able to explore the world while doing what you love in a career pretty much beats any kinda drug, meal or sex. Well maybe not sex, but if you can get your hot girlfriend to come with you as your “assistant” well, checkmate.
At the same time it is a bit of a double-edged sword if you let it be. You’re not home for long stretches, life, the one you left, can move and shift while you are away, and people tend to hate you when you tell them what you’re doing. Those things considered, if it were totally without complication, it wouldn’t be worth it. It’s like the prostitute told the John, “If you ain’t sweating honey, you’re paying too much.”