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The Legendary Khao San Road

There are many ways to describe this stretch of road. Shops selling wares with prices that are always negotiable. “Well how much DO you want to pay?” (Lemme introduce you to a ghetto superstar homie. You should have let me walk away). Food vendors don’t need to try hard to grab your attention, the hypnotic smells of authentic Thai food was more than enough to seemingly float you by the nose to their culinary creations. The night club spotters trot along your side in a 8 second battle to run through menus ranging from drinks and food…to forbidden pleasures that lead down dark alleys. As you gaze down the alley, their previous patrons stagger out of the doors eager to hide their indulgence by quickly merging with the crowd. A group of Japanese women snicker at the soiled front of one of the young Australian man’s shorts, partially torn shirt and cat like scratches on his neck.
Standing in front of a street cart to order some chicken Pad Thai, the languages of the world seem to surround you sending your senses into overdrive, eventually making you numb. Irish guys are hand gesturing and speaking slowly to Chinese women covering their hearts to seem sincere. Their slurred speech and IWC watches seem to be an aphrodisiac. Peter, the spontaneously drunk American teenager that just broke up with his girlfriend, (he told the whole street the story…twice. (If you know a Marie [CENSORED] from Seattle, she my friends is a dirty little…well anyway, “Firecrotch” will get hers). Back to drunk Peter…he is hugging a poor Australian girl who was too shy to push him off of her. Her friends run to her aid with the assistance of a newfound heavily tattooed Russian man. Instantaneously sober, Peter jogs down the street to try his technique again out of view of the recent spectators.
(Click here on your mobile device) Story continues after the vid…


The night spirals into early morning and those who were successful in their banter have disappeared into the hostels with their catches. Those with remedial skills hang their heads and grab their wallets as they resort to the neon flashing lights in the alleys. One Scottsman limping with only one flop flop sticking to his foot with sweat and street goo.
Ajahn issued a pool challenge. The loser of each game is punished with pushups. The first game started with a 45 pushup penalty, with each game raising the stakes by 5 pushups. Needless to say…even when you win…you still lose as Ajahn drops to the ground along side of you matching your pace and barking the count to ensure that your penalty is served accurately. Retiring to sleep at 5:30 in the morning we were woken up at 8 with Ajahn pounding on the door fully dressed and fed. (As if the last 9 hours of sensory overload never happened. Are his running shoes on…crap…
Shaming us all by leaving the hotel room door open, we struggled to get dressed hopping around in our boxers. The soon to be 53 year old is already bounding down the stairs like a leprechaun to the lobby with his voice echoing through the hallway for all the staff to hear. “why you guys so slows…you still a young man or what”? The maid giggles to a coworker as we dart down the hallway to catch up. We vow to peel the sheets completely off the beds to get revenge…


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