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The new Jason Derulo song is on, that is the Latino edited version where his voice sounds like a high pitched 8-year old – is this music? I decide to retire on a street opposite Khao San, Soi Rambuttri, where the atmosphere is more chilling.Sawasdee House is the name, and it’s pleasant to find some soothing lounge music.

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They may look fresh from the fierce streets of Phnom Penh and the mountains of Burma, but my guess is they grew their beards in London, Madrid or Rome and flew out just a couple of days ago.

Vain bastards everywhere, this whole road is a masquerade; who has the coolest sunglasses? Who was hipster enough to A few doors down and Bangkok’s finest Irish bar is teeming with teenagers.

Without alcohol the frustration grows; the incessant chanting of the massage girls (‘massaaaa, massaaaa’) is simply too much to bear, and I begin to realise why every other person on Khao San Road is carrying a beer or three.

Even as the sun begins to set, the relentless heat refuses to subside, and I finally opt for the shade offered by the plethora of colourful bars this chaotic street has to offer.

Before I can even consider buying any of the useless shit on offer (fake arm tattoo sleeves and dreadlocks for example), though, I am ushered into a new bar that is inventively called ; no matter that I have just lost my flip-flops; no matter that I can barely stand up; and no matter blood is dripping from my ear onto my white T-Shirt. , potbellied 50-something sex tourists leer at the local talent, and an unholy amount of she-males (you can tell by those big hands) aggressively lure unsuspecting Westerners into the world of unknown.

The music is loud and I wonder around in a daze, but I make new friends everywhere I turn.

I dry myself frantically because the window of opportunity between being fresh from the shower and the first wave of sweat is minimal…almost non-existent.

I’m lucky to get my new Chang T-Shirt (it is customary to buy one) on swiftly and dryly, then head back down onto the noisy streets of Khao San Road to do some people-watching and, let’s face it, get shit-drunk.

After going for a much-needed piss I walk out the Gents with a lad from Bolton and a skinny Dutch teenager – ‘ in 24 hours. Back on Khao San Road and the night is in full swing under a full moon. English louts scatter the street celebrating a victory over Spain, I even pick up an ugly rendition of ‘Rule Britannia’.

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