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Hotels can help to stop druggings

Dear Sir,
I’m referring to your news story headed ‘Tourist drugging continues’ and the editorial by Kittisak Khamthong ‘Poisoning tourists must be stopped, now’.
In your news story was stated that the 3 Austrian tourists were staying in a large resort on North Pattaya Road. In large and better hotels it is generally custom, that tourists who wish to bring back a partner for the night, to pay an amount of approximately 500 Baht for security reasons. The visitor also has to leave the ID card at the reception and when picking it up the next morning, a telephone call is usually made to the room in which she or he was sleeping, to assure that nothing went missing. This is probably a good way of preventing any unwelcome experiences for first-time visitors.
If these vicious girls had to leave their ID’s at the reception, they would not have dared drugging and robbing tourists, or otherwise they would have been caught.
Unfortunately many tourists try to avoid this fee by taking the girl first to the hotel’s restaurant or coffee-shop and so getting her past the reception.
Enforcing and establishing this regulation in hotels and resorts could be a start for preventing such crime acts.
Robert Clark


Praise for Koh Larn hospital

Sir,
I was unfortunate to suffer a fairly serious accident during a recent boating trip around the islands off Pattaya. This happened a long way from shore and I was treated at the hospital on Koh Larn Island. Whilst the place may not look much by western standards, the medical attention was first class and very reasonably priced. If any of your readers are unfortunate to suffer a similar incident, then they should not hesitate to visit this hospital.
The boat itself was hired and whilst seaworthy, carried no useful items in the event of an incident, i.e. first aid kit, compass or flares. It was more luck than judgment that I actually arrived at the island. In hindsight, it would be wise to at least take a first aid kit even if one is not provided with the boat. Once again, my heartfelt thanks to the attending doctor at the hospital.
Richard Bunch


Advice for tourists

Dear Sir,
The reasons many “falangs” do not return to Pattaya is the manner in which they are so exploited constantly.
For myself, one loves or hates this place. Having visited Pattaya for long periods over nine years, I offer a few tips.
Baht taxi drivers are the worst offenders. Golden rules: 1) Never board a stationary taxi, he is waiting to exploit you for all he can get. Always hail a taxi in motion. The fare to Jomtien (from South Pattaya) is 10 baht for Europeans and 5 baht for Thais - at the moment. Taxi drivers demand 20 baht when falangs travel together with Thais. So, 2) save 150 baht a month by boarding separate taxis to Jomtien. There is always a constant stream of them.
Try to avoid asking questions whenever possible. Find out cost, then tell them what you will pay. This works on most occasions.
Whenever venturing anywhere on foot, beware of hazards underfoot and above! Remember, “non-slip tiles” in bathrooms and swimming pools are scarce.
There are no public toilets at Jomtien, a walk along the footpath one is hit by a strong smell of urine. Ugh!
After all this, I still love this place.
“Kineow”


Help for lonely souls

CoDa
Co-Dependants Anonymous
A Twelve Step Program
To Help Improve
Relationships With Others
And Ourselves
Thursdays, 7:30-8:30 PM
Between Florida Hotel and
Skaw Beach Hotel
519/56 Soi Prom Pund
Off Pattaya 2nd Road
Contact Renn
250-326

For your general in-formation, Co-Dependents Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women whose common problem is an inability to achieve and maintain functional relation-ships.
We share with one another in hopes of solving mutual co-dependent issues and helping others to recover. The only requirement for membership is the desire for healthy and fulfilling relationships with others and ourselves.
CoDa is not allied with any sect, denomination, political group, organisation, or institution. CoDa does not with to engage in any controversy; neither endorses nor opposes any causes. We rely upon the wisdom, and knowledge of the Twelve Steps, and Traditions, adopted for our purpose from Alcoholics Anonymous, as the principles of our program, guiding us to living better lives.


A TABLOID JOURNALIST’S TALE

by Noel (Tippler) Thomas
I work for The Sin newspaper in the U.K. and am proud to be regarded as the lowest of the low by my peers. Also, I take great pride in being referred to as ‘The Stinking Reptile’ within the industry. It takes some determined gutter reporting to hit such dizzying depths and I feel that I am more than worthy by my dogged persistence to become the despised scumbag that I am.
My penchance for reporting the truth in a way that other journalists see as complete fiction or deliberate lies is of little concern to me, as my copy sells papers. That’s all that counts as far as I’m concerned. I don’t give a damn if I ruin the odd reputation or life here and there provided that the paper’s circulation is maintained and I get my pay cheque at the end of the month.
I had been hounding Lady Diana for the previous few years and I was, quite frankly, running out of lies to print about her. It was then it occurred to me that there hadn’t been a story on AIDS in Thailand for at least three weeks.
I approached my editor and suggested that he give me the assignment. At first, he was totally staggered that I wanted to actually visit Thailand in person. He could not understand why I could not just drink a bottle of Scotch and then make up a story as I would usually do. I eventually convinced him that for The Sin newspaper to actually have one fact, or maybe even two or three contained within its pages, would be bound to send our circulation through the roof as soon as word got out. He pondered for a while and then, having calculated the potential financial reward that his personal bonus plan could provide, gave me the go ahead. Within seconds I had placed the necessary authorisation forms in front of him and ensured that everything was approved before he changed his mind.
The flight was not for another two days and so I spent the time industriously writing my article entitled: AIDS in Thailand: the Horrifying Truth. Now don’t get me wrong, when I was to actually visit the country, I had every intention of changing the odd sentence should I see something that was true, provided it was more sensational and newsworthy than my imagination. I do have my standards to maintain, I’ll have you know.
The flight over was far more interesting than I imagined. It’s part of my training to constantly eavesdrop on people and as the plane was only two thirds full, I was given the opportunity to sneak up behind people and listen in on their conversations. I went through four notepads within seven hours.
Given that the type of dialogue I heard only referred to peoples’ plans to visit all the beautiful tourist attractions of Thailand, I thought it prudent to take notes as I knew that I would be able to convert them into a form that the average reader would find acceptable. You have to bear in mind that us gutter press hacks have the ability to portray a nun’s picnic with a group of children with their pets as an open air lesbian orgy involving unnatural acts with animals.
As soon as I heard the middle aged couple from Surrey discussing a planned excursion to The Floating Market in Bangkok, an immediate article title came to mind: Past-it Pair Prepare for Pot Party. The fact that the main purpose of their intended visit was to buy pot plants for the back garden of their cottage in Godalming was of little concern to me. Drug abuse in a land of sin and debauchery would make much better reading for our devoted subscribers. When I saw the lady offer a small child a barley sugar sweet, there was no question that I would have to weave fictitious details of their involvement in a child sex ring into the story. It was becoming clear to me that this trip was going to provide me with enough material to keep my avid imagination well fertilized for years to come.
I then moved up the gangway and eventually sat behind two Londoners. This motley pair were clearly regular travelers to Thailand and both had regular and long-standing lady friends in the country. It seemed apparent to me that the ‘dynamic duo’ in front of me were clearly mentally retarded or, at best, incredibly naive. They would each send their ‘sweethearts’ five hundred pounds (Baht 2,000) per month on the understanding that the girls would remain faithful to them whilst they were back home in the UK. True, the young ladies in question could indeed have been beyond reproach and would rather die than commit an act of dishonesty. My paper, however, leaves the coverage of such types to publications such as Woman’s Own. This prompted the caption Bangkok Belles Blackmail Bermondsey Boys. It transpired that the lads managed to get themselves over to Thailand at least three times a year, the limiting factor being holiday leave in addition to the obvious financial requirements. Whilst back in London the boys lived a very frugal life so as to save the money to finance their Far Eastern jaunts.
Having successfully navigated myself through the rigours of the Immigration System at Don Muang Airport at Bangkok, I found myself hurtling towards the city at a steady two miles per hour. Quite frankly, it would have been far quicker and unquestionably far less frustrating to have walked.
I had been booked into the Anna Hotel, situated somewhere off Sukhumvit Road. We arrived at the hotel two hours after leaving the airport and my mood was far from chirpy as we pulled up at the entrance, believe me. I told the driver to go screw himself and felt compelled to arrange for him to part company with his front teeth when he tried to extort a further two hundred baht from me. I also felt it necessary to knee the bellboy in the groin as he was adamant that I give him a tip in advance before he was prepared to retrieve my bags from the taxi.
I immediately thought of two more article titles: Mobile Muggers Make Misery and Hotel Hoodlums Hustle a Hack.
I finally got to my room and took a much needed shower. Rather than mess up my body clock, I forced myself not to sleep and went for a stroll. I happened upon a place called Anna Plaza Entertainment Complex. I had heard that there should be plenty of material there from which I could invent many lurid stories to satisfy the lustful appetite of my readers.
I walked around the array of ‘Go-Go’ bars only to be disappointed to discover that the girls all seemed to be laughing and joking as they consumed platefuls of whatever food they wanted whenever they felt the urge.
Mild panic set in as it became clear that these girls were obviously happy in what they did for a living and there was no question of them being coerced in to doing something against their will. I searched in vain for the rows of moribund AIDS victims that I had been led to expect by the propaganda machine of UK.
I was relieved to see a girl wearing an ankle bracelet which prompted the article title: Sex Slaves Subjected to Bondage in Thailand. That would make a far more interesting read than talking about a girl reading a knitting magazine, I thought to myself.
As luck would have it, a moment later an elderly Norwegian gentleman patted a shoeshine boy on the head, in gratitude for the excellent job the boy had done on the man’s rancid shoes over the previous fifteen minutes for the princely sum of forty pence. The article title: Pederasts Profit from the Poor sprang instantly to mind.
I then decided to park myself in one Go-Go Bar and simply observe for a while. It was quite disappointing to witness one particular beauty of a girl turn down the propositions of over a dozen tourists in the space of thirty minutes. She explained to each of the Europeans that they would be hard pressed to be given the privilege of stroking a mangy street dog, let alone savouring the delights of her nubile body. She also pointed out that she was running short of time as her new seven series BMW was to be delivered within the hour. This prompted the article title: Sold Sex Slaves Suffer Shocking Situations.
Having had enough of that particular bar, I wandered along the walkway, deciding to stop in a bar which reminded me of matters electrical. I was initially aroused, I must confess, when this gorgeous creature made a full inventory of the contents of my shorts whilst I gulped away at a can of Carlsberg, this activity being interspersed by passionate deep throat kisses. Hindsight now informs me that the baritone voice that later resonated from my new-found darling was not in fact a quirk of nature: it was more a gender identification issue. When I realised the unwholesome truth of the situation, thanks to my instinct to go for a navel grope, I was only violently sick for twenty minutes so I guess I got off lightly. This prompted the article title: Faggots Forced to Fool and Fornicate with Farangs.
I made a somewhat hasty exit and decided that the Anna Plaza was a place where I should no longer be. I headed up Sukhumvit road, thankful in the knowledge that my mistake had not been captured on film. A few minutes later my attention was drawn by the sound of loud rock music booming out from a place called the Thermostat Lounge. I eventually found the entrance which was at the rear of the building.
I was slightly taken aback to discover that to get in to the bar one had to wade through the communal toilet, ruining my shoes in the process, whilst people dealt with calls of nature. This prompted the article title: Bewildered Boys Buggered in Bog.
Having acquired my drink, I attempted to start up a conversation with a young lady upon whose foot I had just trodden. This proved a daunting task as she was a deaf mute. The guy standing next to her proceeded to retrieve the cigarette that he had just dropped between her feet and apologised for head butting her in the stomach as he lurched forward under the influence of sixteen cans of Fosters Lager. The girl was far from happy with the situation and all of a sudden something of a skirmish ensued as other girls came to her ostensible rescue. This prompted the article title: Mute Muff-Divers Make Mayhem.
The time was now 4.30 a.m. and so I decided to call it a night. I staggered back to the Anna Hotel and decided to have a quick night-cap in the Coffee Shop on the ground floor. No sooner than I had raised my treble brandy to my lips, in stormed a party of Danish drunks. I do not know what it is about the Scandinavians, but they all seem to have this hell bent desire to consume in one session more alcohol than a platoon of drugged American G.I.’s could drink in a day. When Olle Peterson won the prize for downing a bottle of Scotch Whisky in less than ten seconds, I became a little nervous: my instincts seemed to be telling me that there could be trouble in the air.
My worst fears were confirmed when that unhelpful little git who managed the hotel reception went sailing through a closed picture window and landed some ten yards away in the car-park. He was lucky that he bounced off the roof of an incoming taxi, as the outgoing laundry van would surely have flattened him. This event prompted the article title: Malicious Manager Makes Moonshot.
In the morning as I checked out, the previously airborne reception manager gave me a welcomely toothless scowl as I left the flea pit So, feeling rather relieved to have survived the place, I climbed into a taxi and was off on my way to some beach resort some two hours south of the capital.
Bangkok was certainly an interesting place, but if I go there again I will ensure that I wear a gas mask. I wonder what delights my next port of call will bring.


HEADLINES [click on headline to view story]

Hotels can help to stop druggings

Praise for Koh Larn hospital

Advice for tourists

Help for lonely souls

A TABLOID JOURNALIST’S TALE

Letters published in the Mailbag
of Pattaya Mail are also published here.

It is noticed that the letters herein in no way reflect the opinions of the editor or writers for Pattaya Mail, but are unsolicited letters from our readers, expressing their own opinions. No anonymous letters or those without genuine addresses are printed, and, whilst we do not object to the use of a nom de plume, preference will be given to those signed.

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