When the sun goes down...

In some ways, Chiang Mai appears to be the San Francisco of Thailand (and I ain't talkin' about the Golden Gate Bridge). I've caught one of Caroline's sharp elbows more than once because I always do a double-take when I see a she-male. It's not because I'm trying to be rude, it's just that it's not really what I'm expecting, so I look again to see if my eyes are deceiving me. Turns out the surgery to make the gender switch permanent is performed routinely in Bangkok for very low prices.

Before coming to Thailand I'd heard that the country is sexually "liberated", and I wondered what exactly that would mean. Now I know. (Don't worry, Mom, I don't know, I just mean I've seen who comes out when the sun goes down). Our guesthouse is close to the main drag where a lot of restaurants and bars are located. Every night rows of pretty young Thai girls line up at the front of the bars like blackbirds on a barbed wire fence. To each passing foreigner they throw out invitations. "Hey, Mister, welcome!" "Come have a drink!" "Want to party?"

Fortunately, having Caroline by my side has basically been the equivalent of a full suit of armor against the barrage of invitations, but I've seen many a lonely traveller whispering sweet nothings to a pretty girl in a dark corner of the bar. Strangely, it seems to happen a little more often among the men in the 50-70 age bracket, but hey, who's counting, right?