Collette and I squizzed in on our rusted but trusted Honda 125 to a cheap and cheeky B&B in Pemuteran. It was red hot, dry and unforgiving like my wit on the third day of a session. There was a playful, older, Aussie couple downing Bintang on sun-loungers, they looked like they’d seen a few parties and even more relationship counsellors.
Anxious and grimacing sex desperadoes. Massively overweight, sweaty and grease-laden, mulleteer perverts, all laced to eyeballs with Singha and STD’s. Thai hookers get a really awful deal. Continue reading →
Time means little under the shade of this bougainvillea porch at the side of a lonely road in Sant Joan. Eclectic rogues gesticulate, smoke, share stories and gather advice. It makes me want to learn Spanish just to earwig a little. All of the real island scoops are in these laughs and animated pats. Let’s go inside. Continue reading →