CurtisD

Tonight is Muay Thai night. Bangkok Guy suggests we meet at 5.30pm but while I am having a quick coffee in the lobby he Lines me that he is running late. I reply “relax, not a problem” and get back “you ok?”, so I send back two stickers, one of a happy looking rabbit holding up an ‘OKAY!’ sign and the other a thumbs up. Back comes a rabbit cuddling a bear. In the absence of Thai, sticker-as-a-second-language works. We take the skytrain and then a ferry down to Asiatique. The sun is setting and the reflections of the lighted buildings and the apricot sun in the river are gorgeous. Disembarkation is delayed by a massive party boat which takes up the entire dock while the evening’s revelers board. We walk past stalls and bars and restaurants, one cooking crocodile on a spit which by some logic is paired with Jack Daniels, to the stadium where we buy tickets and Bangkok Guy is chagrined to find that our tickets are the same price, no discount for Thais. Tonight he is in charge, my only request is for air-conditioning, and for our pre-fight dinner he finds his way to a roast chicken place where we share a whole bird and a salad while a very good singer/guitarist plays in the background. Then all hell breaks loose outside as a deluge of biblical proportions descends with accompanying thunder and light effects. Twenty minutes later we need to be on our way but the elements are enjoying showing we mortals who is boss and the torrential rain shows no sign of letting up. Bangkok Guy talks to the restaurant manager and signals “Come, we go” and I follow him to the covered area outside the restaurant crowded with sheltering refugees. The manager told him we could reach the theatre under cover, we just need to find the way, and Bangkok Guy rises to the challenge leading our intrepid band (well, me) with a few zigs, zags and doubling back safely to our destination. The show is just starting and now I make sense of what he had tried to tell me in the restaurant. This is not regular Muay Thai. It is a show ‘Muay Thai Live: The Legend Lives’. After a momentary pang of disappointment I really enjoy it. It is a very professional production with excellent choreography, sound and light effects and it is well acted. It is a great education for a novice such as myself and a stage almost continually full of handsome buff guys (this is real functional muscle, not gym show-muscle) does not hurt. After the show there is an interval to take photos of the cast before two real fights and Bangkok Guy is down with the tourists snapping pics. He likes buff. The two fights show that the reality is scrappier and grittier than the elegant classically-named moves showcased in the production. It is still early as we head back to the hotel and I suggest we take in a show – maybe Jupiter? “You want? Ok”. We arrive just before 10pm. Bangkok Guy talks with the doorman who does his best to find us good seats in what is already a crowd, eventually bringing out two tall stools so we can sit in a gap to one side. I am not sure what Bangkok Guy told him, but he is very accommodating. More and more customers arrive, mainly Asian, so that by show time the area beyond and between the seating resembles a commuter train at rush hour. At the last minute the VIPs arrive to occupy the reserved seats next to us. I suggest to Bangkok Guy that we each pick who we think is the hottest guy. As usual I like #23, who tonight looks great, to which he says “Yes, you like thin boy six pack” in a tone which suggests this is well-known. Watching his reaction to the guys I see his eyes and body follow #31, a buff guy who I guessed he would like, “You like?” “Yes” he says, shuffling on his stool as though he has just divulged a State Secret. He has clearly seen this guy around and fancies him. I suggest he should get him, “No, he straight, like girl, not like me, I not have money, if you give money you can have”. Thus the bar scene is neatly encapsulated. He sees my eyes following #23 and tells me I should have him, he does not mind, he will call him over. “No, tonight I do not want boy with number, want boy in Adidas”, he is puzzled for a moment and then realizes that he is wearing an Adidas shirt and smiles, “Still can have”. I agree variety is good, but I am happy with the one I came with. We both enjoy the show and I finally get to see the hula-hoop guy whose act is fun. Leaving Jupiter Bangkok Guys says he is a little hungry, am I? No, but I am happy to go with him to find something. He heads to the food vendors next to the bank with ATMs just down from Twilight and gets a Pad Thai to go, 50bt. I try a little back at the hotel and it is good. You can eat well cheaply in Thailand.

After an early morning email check I decide I can afford to take it easy this morning and cuddle up to Bangkok Guy, who a few minutes later shifts a little, followed a little later by my repositioning myself and so on through multiple positions of the Cuddling Karma Sutra until we finally lock together and drift into the morning like pieces of a warm softly breathing puzzle. It is me who ultimately breaks the idyll to head out for appointments with a tailor and a designer who are both making things for me. I return to find a duvet mound on my side of the bed connected by the iphone charger to the nightstand. I peer into the mound and Bangkok Guy grins happily back, clearly now awake. Running errands has left me a little sticky so into the bathroom to shower and I see Bangkok Guy has been there, the shower is set to his cooler preferred temperature. Climbing into bed I explore the duvet mound and find Bangkok Guy coyly wrapped in a robe. His game today is for me to unwrap him. Christmas come early for adults. The evening’s fine dining excursion is to Saneh Jaan for Thai food. The single large room decorated in big-city-sophisticated echoes and re-echoes with conversation and laughter. Although we have a great table, it is not an intimate space – this is dining as public display rather than a private occasion. We order drinks, a fresh coconut milk served from the nut for him and a passionfruit mocktail for me. Bangkok Guy examines the menu and suggests that we get two dishes that match those we had at Baan Suriyasai so that we can compare and a couple of new ones. Each dish is photographed and as we are both hungry we eat heartily. In this first round we agree that Baan Suriyasai emerges the clear winner. The green curry is good – he makes sure to finish it – but as he points out, holding his photo from Baan Suriyasai alongside for comparison, it is beige-green rather than green. The porkbelly and egg dish is definitely a distant second. The eggs are large, hardboiled and cut in half rather than both large and small, whole and softboiled so that the rich yolk runs out into the stew. The green vegetable in oyster sauce tastes, to me, a bit of cooking fuel which I try and fail to communicate to Bangkok Guy. None-the-less it is the one dish he does not polish off. The fried rice and pork we both think is excellent. Redemption is found in the dessert menu, where the selection of traditional Thai desserts gets Bangkok Guy animated. We agree to try one he knows of but has never tried, a warm coconut affair with the consistency of a thick soup or a thin custard, served in a beautiful Thai porcelain compote. It is wonderful. In a less sophisticated establishment I would lick the bowl.

The next day follows the now established pattern. I work and caffeinate while Bangkok Guy dozes. At midday the magic switch goes off and he rises, bathes, flirts and we end up entwined and happy in bed. He goes to class and I alternate between the pool, working in the room and a little shopping. In the evening he arrives looking sharp in a dress shirt, pressed khakis and black sneakers, ready for his first experience of French cuisine. I complement him on his appearance – “borrowed, friend’s, borrowed” he says with a grin, pointing at his shirt, trousers and shoes. And then “Mine”, pointing at his face. The walk to the Water Library takes us down an alleyway past a local hole in the wall restaurant with plastic chairs. I suggest we should eat there, given how cheap and good the food was on the footpath last night. “We could” he replies, returning the ball to me with a level gaze and slight smile, before continuing with national pride that a politician would love to bottle: “In Thailand we eat good food cheap”. Water Library’s décor is modern and chic. We order the tasting menu to enable him to try a variety of things and a German Riesling Kabinett which I think may be sweet enough for him to enjoy without making me choke. He really takes to the wine - “No alcohol” – and I warn him that the wine is in fact deceptive, carrying a full load of alcohol under the sweet honey floral flavor that he is enjoying (it is an excellent wine) and swirl the wine in the glass to show him the ‘legs’ that form, revealing the presence of the alcohol. He swirls the wine in his glass, observing the ‘legs’ but unsure how this reveals something that he equates with raw and harsh. He photographs the bottle and I hope I have not opened the door to a bad habit. Each course is served with a flourish and a breathless description of its construction, which I ask to be repeated in Thai. It is then photographed carefully and eaten slowly and thoughtfully, well, at least by him. I am no gourmand and prefer a couple of solid courses to a long stream of small bites, with the result that while he savors I bolt down each course and then look at the plate in surprise – gone? We discover that he is not a fan of salmon, but discounting those two servings the meal is a hit …. although still not a match for Thai food. We both agree the favorite so far is the porkbelly with eggs from Baan Suriyasai. However, when the dessert arrives it is a modern French triumph. The presentation is superb, serious photography is called for and I am enlisted to photograph it from my side of the table too. We both eat it thoughtfully, working out what the flavors are and what is the mysterious powder in the tall glass compote containing the little mango sorbet sticks – lightly toasted rice powder is his guess. We continue after dinner to the Bamboo Bar at the Mandarin Oriental where an excellent pianist is playing to a room at about one third capacity. Still no vocalist! Bangkok Guy decides he has had enough alcohol and gets a fruit juice while I get a Sazerac and we settle in to enjoy the music. Later we walk down to the river terrace where my duties as pictorial social diarist are invoked and I ‘photoshoot’ him walking around. He edits the results and is very happy. He looks me in the eyes: “Thank you very much, for everything”. He is sincere, although I suspect a smidgen of ‘In Vino Veritas’ is involved. Back at the hotel preparing for bed I run through the planned activities for the next few days: dinner at another Thai restaurant, Thai boxing as I have never been (Bangkok Guy’s eyebrows migrate halfway up his forehead when he hears this, so he is onto it) and a Mediterranean meal the following evening. Something about Bangkok Guy’s indulgent hooded smile makes me think of the way I look at him when one of his quirks is amusing me, but of course that is different. “A lot of organize” Bangkok Guy says, smiling.

Thanks Paborn, it just seems to write itself this way.

In the morning Bangkok Guy and I follow our own schedules. While he practices for Olympic gold in sleeping, I work at the desk in the room, my typing and coffee making not disturbing him in the least. We have established good relations with our housekeeper who knows that the room will not be available to clean until the afternoon. The first day, seeing that there had been two occupants even though it is booked for one, she left it arranged for two. A bottle of water on each side of the bed, additional towels and soaps. I found her cleaning another room, confirmed that she was assigned to our room and gave her a tip that I explained was for the whole stay. She beamed. A few minutes later she knocked on the door. “This for whole stay?” “Yes” “I not clean whole stay, have holiday, my friend clean two days” she said offering me back the money to sort out this piece of accounting. I took out two days of tips and she left very happy (she now waves to me from down the corridor) and I will tip her friend when she takes over. A little after midday Bangkok Guy ceases his exertions for gold and heads to the bathroom with much theatrical stretching. He has been sleeping in one of my t-shirts which rises revealingly with each stretch, which is the point. Satisfied that I have taken all this in he slips into the bathroom, sticks his head back out to smile at me and disappears into the shower. I think you know the rest of this story. It has a happy ending. He heads off to class and again I spend the day between the pool and working in the room. This evening Bangkok Guy is going to a market with his sister and cannot meet for dinner. We agree to meet around 10.30pm and go to a bar with jazz at the Landmark where he has previously heard good “sing song”. The late start gives me an opportunity to explore the bars and see for myself the changes since my last visit. While I know Bangkok Guy would visit the bars with me, I also know that there is a difference between what he will go along with and what he actually wants to do. I’d rather not take advantage of his good nature. I start my bar Odyssey at 9pm. The set up – short time, many things to see - reminds me of a guide to hitting the high points of the Louvre in 30 minutes written decades ago for Esquire. The early start time will negatively affect what I find at the bars. That said, here goes. Start at Moonlight, about which I have heard so much. Manager is concerned that I am arriving so early. “Please welcome, show at 10.30, look, maybe like boy now, anyway come back for show no charge again”. About 12 boys, a few on rotation, most sitting talking on the side. About five customers. Viewing from the bleachers I prioritize face, personality (as revealed on the face) and body in that order. All toned bodies but only one face gets my attention and I can’t see his number as he is sitting. Next is G-Boys whose touts at the soi entrance had tried to get my attention earlier on my way to Moonlight. Now I am back and interested they are happy – their gaydar was right the first time! Around 20 boys of a variety of types and five nationalities according the mamasan, although I am not sure she really knows as the boy she told me was Lao informed me he was Cambodian. Two boys catch my eye, the one with a very handsome face looks a bit distant however. Mamasan tells me he is Vietnamese and top only. The other is the cute Cambodian. I tip mamasan and the Cambodian guy, who gets off the stage to accompany me to the door. Outside one of the door guys who is both attractive and well-spoken says they have another bar to which he will take me and he proceeds to lead me to my first ever visit to Screw Boys. Slightly shabby, five guys, three of whom look like they are still waking up. One guy is a standout. Muscular, handsome, a lot of personality as viewed from the bleachers – he cocks an eyebrow at me, a go-go first. I tip him as I leave. Now to Jupiter where I get a seat a few rows back (closer vacant seats are reserved) and switch to whisky on the rocks as I am beginning to feel waterlogged after three lime juices. Many guys, all stunning bodies, only a couple of faces that appeal, one of whom is a guy I do not recognize from the last trip. Quite tall, #81 I think. He reminds me of an ex. #23 who I found very attractive in January is still attractive but has slipped from chiseled to a fraction gaunt. It has got to be stressful maintaining your looks for nightly appraisal. Onward! In Twilight I go first to Dream Boys where after a warm welcome the host is deflated to find that I am only looking tonight. No finder’s fee for him. Although the drink was good (a very generously poured double, perhaps in the hope that alcohol would weaken my resolve) none of the dancers caught my eye so back out to the soi faster than expected where, looking around for the next stop on the tour, I see the sign for Classic Boy at the far end of the soi. I have never taken a boy off from Classic Boy, my impression being that the boys there need to eat more. Clients were becoming more numerous in each successive bar and now, a little after 10pm, Classic Boys was about three quarters full. About twenty boys, mostly small and veering toward fem, however to my surprise two guys caught my eye. One was a darker quite masculine little guy with an intelligent face and the other was slightly taller with a perfectly proportioned body softly carved from pale marble and a nice smile. I tip them both. Back out on the soi, 10.15pm and I was about to enter the bar with the guys in feathers outside when it hit me that I should really freshen up before meeting Bangkok Guy. It was a sticky humid night. So ended the tour, curiosity satisfied and in the shower I reflect that I am very pleased to be with Bangkok Guy. When he arrives Bangkok Guy needs to change. It had been sticky and crowded in the market “Soo many people” and thinking ahead he had brought a change of clothes. I tell him about visiting the bars and he says “Oh?” with a smile. I get the feeling that the communication here is that he understands I am a human with faults and foibles and that this particular foible is one which I am permitted but which may be corrected at some point. We arrive at the bar at the Landmark to find a deserted grand piano and mic stand. Too late, so a quick change of plan and we are off to 360 at the Millennium, or we would be if we could find a cab. No one wants to drive over the river. We do what would have been the sensible first option, we take the skytrain. It is such a humid evening that between trying to catch a cab and walking to the train I am beginning to drip, to Bangkok Guys amusement. I gratefully dry down in the train aircon and when we disembark spot a cab with some relief. “But hotel not far, we walk” Bangkok Guy deadpans. We take the cab and he claims ownership of my right hand, holding it between both of his. As usual the band is great, the view wonderful. But no ‘sing song’. This week it seems is instrumental jazz week in Bangkok. The vocalists are on tour. Bangkok Guy tries to take a selfie with the view but can’t get the angle he wants so I take it for him and unintentionally launch myself into a new career as his pictorial social diarist. I took multiple rapid shots as you do in a photoshoot and after he deletes the duds he is very happy with the remaining few, so my new role is sealed. The contract arrives soon. Heading back to the hotel he gets a call. A friend wants to meet for dinner. He is hungry. Would I like to join them, or would I like to go to the hotel and he will be there later? Dinner with friend will not take long. I say I will join them. Bangkok Guy gives new directions to the cab driver, who drops us just down from soi Twilight. Dinner turns out to be at one of the tables on the footpath near the green bank with cash machines. My guess is that Bangkok Guy’s friend works somewhere nearby in the gay scene although I don’t recognize him from my bar tour. While his language, mannerisms and even facial expressions are Thai he does not look Thai. It turns out he is first generation Thai, his parents having come from India. Full assimilation in one generation, impressive. Over the years I have seen a number of guys at the bars who do not look Thai or who look mixed. I have also found that among the Thais with whom I do business, when you go back 100 or 200 years, there is more often than not some foreign heritage in a branch of the family tree. Thailand may have been successfully assimilating people for a long time. The footpath food is very good. A big bowl of tasty brown soup with two chicken legs, rice, noodles, sprouts and vegetables mixed in. 200Bt for three, a little over $2 each. The next day my stomach is totally happy.

Thanks, I am glad you are enjoying it.

We agreed to set the alarm for the morning as I had a Spa appointment for a Thai massage and he had class. However, in the event he remained the same sweet immovable lump in the bed that he was last trip. Something was lost in translation. 11am was my deadline, not his, and I left him blissfully curled in the duvet. If sleeping was an Olympic event, he would guarantee gold for Thailand. The Thai massage did wonders and reinvigorated I bounced back into the room just as he exited the shower, also reinvigorated and looking to play. Bangkok Guy has several little quirks that make me smile quietly, one of which is his behavior when he wants to get me into bed. He makes sure he is almost naked (in this case a hotel robe loosely tied) and becomes bashful and coquettish. It works. After some pleasant tantric exercise he goes to class and I give a list of restaurants to the concierge and then spend the afternoon alternating between the pool and working in the room. It was too late to get reservations that evening for any of the restaurants on the list and the concierge suggests we try Baan Suriyasai, which we do. It is in an old white-painted colonial house in Silom and it is gorgeous. There are not many customers and with a choice of tables we select one upstairs in its own little room with a view over the courtyard. I tell Bangkok Guy that he is in charge of selecting the food, which he does in deep conversation with the waitress. Although I have no idea what is being said, he and the waitress are getting along very well, which I have noticed is always the case when he is interacting with fellow Thais. The radius of his charm extends beyond me. Bangkok Guy carefully photographs each dish and then we eat. The food is excellent and, possibly this was his intention, captures some of the variety in Thai cuisine. Crab in a green curry, pork belly (strips of layered meat and fat) accompanied by two types of soft boiled egg in a vegetable broth and a dish of a crunchy dried fish and fried basil leaf mixture. We vote the pork our favorite and he tells me one day he will cook it for me, he can make it and the crab curry. Comfortably full we take a taxi to The Living Room at the Sheraton Grande to listen to jazz. There is a really good jazz quartet playing to a half full room and we settle in with drinks, a Malibu and pineapple for him (this is similar to the cocktail the mixologist at Vespers came up with for him last trip, so it looks like he has adopted it) and I start with an aqua vitae to settle my stomach. When he smells it his face is a picture of shock. How can I put something like that anywhere near me let alone inside me? Best not to drink it but if I have to (I explain it settles the stomach) then drink it quickly so he does not have to smell it! He really does not like alcohol. My subsequent martini is less shocking but still well outside the bounds of anything he finds interesting. After a while floating along with the jazz he seems a little restless. I ask how he is liking it – “no sing song”. Turns out that while we both like jazz he particularly likes jazz vocals, which by coincidence was what we encountered everywhere last time. In the taxi on the way back to the hotel he surprises me by curling up on the seat and resting his head in my lap. I am touched, but also think I may need to watch and manage his expectations. I do not want to lead him into unrealistic expectations. The taxi driver meanwhile is completely fine with all this. Taxi drivers are universally completely fine with Bangkok Guy who chats away with them while holding my hand (in taxis my hand belongs in his, in his lap) or leaning on me. Head-on-lap does not cause a ripple in the Bangkok taxi driver universe.

Thank you, this looks good. We will investigate!

As I begin this report I wonder if in the end it will be better positioned as part of the “Perfect Day and Night in Bangkok’ thread. The trip roared away to an excellent start with a personal best time of 1 hour 20 minutes from touch-down to check-in. No taxiing delays, four people ahead of me at immigration, a slight delay for the bags but not bad and then no traffic on the road into town. All of which gave me plenty of time to wash away the dust of travel and decompress before meeting Bangkok Guy. He and I have kept fitfully in touch since my last trip, with scintillating Line exchanges along the lines of “How are you?”, “I am fine” with a few stickers of rabbits cuddling bears thrown in from his side. Enough to let each other know we were still breathing. I was looking forward to seeing him but also slightly hesitant. As it has been truly said, last trips favorite may not ring the bell on a subsequent occasion. So it was a moment of happiness when the same World-embracing slightly goofy smile, connected to the same warm eyes, sense of mischief and a hint of bashfulness announced itself in the lobby. We adjourned to a nearby Thai restaurant to catch up only to find the kitchen had just closed and, as we wondered where to try next, it began to rain with the threat of a downpour to come. So back to the hotel at a sprint and caught up in the lobby over green tea and curry. As neither my Thai nor his English has improved, catching up involved exchanging iPhones and looking through each other’s photos to discuss the ones that caught our interest. He had been on a couple of holidays in Thailand with the same group of friends one of whom, quite an attractive guy, featured prominently. “Your boyfriend?” His ‘no, friend’ came a little too fast, so while I believe him, he is quite straightforward, I think the wish is there. His major news is that he is back studying full time, no more dancing, which pleases me as he is moving his life along in a constructive way. I also discovered that he is studying to be a chef, which makes sense of all the careful photos he takes of the food at better restaurants. I have learned not to start eating until the photography session is over. I had marked it down to some millennial social media thing, but it is professional interest. Michelin recently gave ratings to Bangkok restaurants and this gives me the idea of making reservations for us at a selection of the chosen few. It might give him a few ideas and Bangkok is probably the only place where I might, at a stretch, afford to dine at a restaurant with a Michelin rating. He had no idea of Michelin, but liked the idea of trying out good restaurants. We agree to go to mainly Thai, as that is his area, but to also try French as he is curious and has never tried it as ‘it too expensive’. With the mission for the morning established – which is why I think this may turn into a guide to things to do in Bangkok – we head to bed and happily reintroduce ourselves.

The one time I visited Jomtien I got a great apartment on Airbnb, well located for both the beach and the Complex. I hear that Thailand has clamped down on Airbnb since then, but it may still be worth exploring as I found a wide range of locations and price points. When choosing hotels I don't really mind if they are gay-oriented or not. If I am a guest then they are going to be gay-friendly. What I do avoid are family-oriented properties as i like to swim quiet lengths in a pool without the ruckus of toddlers and teens. This was one of the attractions of an apartment in Jomtien as I was concerned that the hotels I liked the look of would be full of vacationing families. I have only once noticed that my companion and I were the subject of a too-questioning gaze and that instance is I think telling in what triggers people's judgemental faculties. There are three things which may draw the attention of others when I am with a young companion: Gay, Spring/Autumn and our body language. I only go out in public with guys with whom I get along well enough for them to be regulars. So there is a connection and we act like friends. Not like love-struck handsy teens and not like a bored catamite humoring the ATM. Friends. That 'friends' body language registers and, in my view, is enough to suppress people's Gay, Spring/Autumn prejudices, at least to the extent that whatever people might be thinking it passes through their minds quickly enough that they do not dwell on it or act on it. The one time I noticed I was subject to negative scrutiny was the one time I was with a fresh-off-the-stage pick up, not a guy I knew. I had only one night in Bk, my regular had recently graduated and taken a job in his home city, so I went to Tawan and picked up a sweet young apprentice body builder, in Bk less than a month with haircut and clothes looking straight off the farm. Lebua at State Tower had recently opened and I wanted to try out the roof bar so, not really thinking it through, I suggested to FarmBoy that we go there before going to the hotel. He was keen and somehow (well applied baht) in the fashionable rooftop crush we got a table with a great view. We could not really communicate, but with the view and the 'scene' the smile on FarmBoy's face was wide and bright enough to light 1000 candles. He did not see the 10,000 volt glare of disdain from a well dressed woman in her 30's. I did and with a quiet smile stared her down. The sin was not Gay or Spring/Autumn. The sin was bringing an obvious farm boy, and so obvious go-go, to what was back then the new high-so venue. Contrast this to all the (non-gay) roof tops, bars and clubs that Bangkok Guy and I visited on my last trip. Not a single negative reaction, in fact the opposite, with several pleasant conversations-in-passing. Bangkok Guy and I give off a 'friends' vibe and, it must be said, dressed for the evening he looks awfully respectable and that combination, I think, is enough to keep people relaxed and friendly. And, if they do decide to get judgemental, I will just stare them down while wishing them such a massive increase in personal happiness that they do not feel the need to spoil the happiness of others.

Spoon thanks for introducing this. I have now watched several episodes and think it is pretty funny. Plus hot bods. I am hooked.

I had never thought of making this comparison, possibly as I do not hire escorts back home as it has no appeal, but it provides an interesting insight. Putting my own costs into Numazu's equation - higher hotel and airfare costs, no daytime boy only overnight in Thailand and only a boy for a couple of hours back home not overnight (ok, from my statement above this should be zero, but let's assume I break out of the mold a little) - I am ahead going to Thailand just on the basis of the Index. Then I factor in the non-Index factors (I really like Thailand, health benefits) and I need to travel to Thailand much more regularly than I do. The fact that I like Thailand does not require elaboration. The health benefits are less obvious so I will elaborate. I am at an age at which, if I focus on diet and exercise, I can look pretty pulled together (for my age) but also, if I let my focus slip, which with travel and social rounds is all too easy, I quickly get out of shape. My three best motivators to keep in shape have nothing to do with all I know about living a healthy life. They are: (i) Vanity. Cloths starting to get tight drives me nuts. But if they are tight, I have already gained pounds. So vanity only works as a boundary condition. (ii) Meeting an Ex. I am on good terms with two ex's who are now in different cities. If I know we are going to meet I am very focused on being in shape, even though nothing is going to 'happen'. Partly it's vanity and partly a sort of respect. We look out for each other and I know they will be keeping an eye on me, so I don't want to disappoint or give cause for concern. However, we only meet a couple of times a year. (iii) Knowing I will be spending time in Thailand. Partly this is a stamina issue. If there is going to be a prolonged period of heightened sexual activity, I need to be up to it. Partly it is also a sort of respect. I like Thai guys and think that even if I am paying,they should enjoy themselves, and there is more chance of that if I am in shape. My insight from Numazu's Index is that my best chance of consistently keeping in shape (while having fun) is to visit Thailand more often. So now I need to go beyond the Index and do some sort of regression analysis to determine how much more time I should spend in Thailand. Any of you math enthusiasts have a formula for that? Is there an angle here for the Tourism Authority of Thailand and medical systems everywhere ("forget the pills, let me prescribe a week in Thailand")?

Numazu is a great story teller, so wherever he is writing from I am delighted to read it.

Vessey: "I even try to be more discrete about the money, placing it under their watch or phone for example, easily visible, but avoiding the placing of money directly into their hands. Nevertheless it remains what it is, and I suspect that it is probably more about my emotional needs as theirs" I would think the guys notice the gesture, understand you are giving them greater recognition and appreciate it. (Apologies, I have not got the hang of the MultiQuote)

Vertigo/Moon Bar have the no sandals/shorts/t-shirts dress code and I expect many of the others do also. Park Society may be more relaxed, so if in shorts I would try it. Bars in the list below are definitely more relaxed. http://www.bangkok.com/magazine/11-alternative-rooftop-bars.htm

I visited Toys Boys twice, initially on my first night in Boystown when all the bars were disappointing and then briefly on the final night when, arriving around 1am I notice an attractive guy outside but, inside the bar only four guys and not as attractive as the guy outside, so I did not stay.

This article lists roof top bars in BBK all of which have good views http://www.bangkok.com/top10-rooftop-bars.htm

The next several days fall into a pleasant repeating rhythm as I decide to stay with Bangkok guy and not butterfly. We sleep until around 12.30-1pm and then make love as his mind moves into daylight time. We leave the hotel room in the early to mid afternoon, him to run errands, see friends and go to the gym; me for occasional light shopping but mainly to swim and read by the pool. In the evening we meet for dinner, Thai and his choice with one exception, and then go on to a bar or club or jazz, returning to the hotel in the early hours of the morning. Partly in response to the language gap (imperfect English and no Thai) we develop an eye-contact-and-hand-signal code to rate things and our inclination to stay or go. Use eye contact to indicate the subject in question - the band, the show, a cocktail, food, the place we are in - and touch the head if it is good, the chest if ok, the abdomen if bad and lower anatomy if it really sucks. Partly it works and partly it's just silly fun. Vertigo, our one exception to Thai dining, scores heads for the view and the ambience and a chest to an abdomen for the food. The food score reflects our preference for Thai food, particularly on his part. When I ask why he is playing with his soup he says it is baby food - it is typical European pureed soup compared to clear Thai soup with recognizable ingredients. Score one to Thai cuisine. 360 at the Millennium scores heads all round - the band, the evening view of duckling-chains of barges following their tugs up the river in front of the illuminated hotels on the opposite bank and the friendly staff who are happy to help him find the best mocktail. Like every guy I have been with on this trip and most previous ones, he really does not like alcohol. Despite the aversion to alcohol, Vespers bar in Soi Convent scores a full set of heads - ambience, great mixology and presentation of cocktails and truly friendly and helpful staff. Well, except for one cocktail. We both really like the place and the staff are very engaged helping him find a cocktail that a non-drinker will like. They come up with a blend of a Thai coconut liquor and pineapple juice which even I think tastes good without being too sweet and which Bangkok guy additionally likes because you cannot detect the alcohol and also, I suspect, because it has Thai content. The trouble comes on our next visit when, lulled into a false sense of security, we order from the very well presented cocktail list without much consultation. His cocktail arrives in a china teacup inside a small wicker basket with fresh strawberries. He is enchanted and carefully photographs it to post on social media. He takes a sip, looks at me, then at the drink and puts his free hand firmly on his crotch. For me, it is a great cocktail, with a normal amount of raw alcohol coming through, but that burn of alcohol is way too much for him. We go to Jupiter 2018 to see the show and to allow me to satisfy my curiosity as to whether or not the guys 'left on the rank' last week really were the tail end of an amazingly hot group. The dancers are all very gym-toned but seeing the whole group creates no additional excitement for me as the guy who is most to my liking turns out to be one of the guys left on the rank last week, #23. The show is very well staged but we do not stay for the entire performance as I had been expecting an actual show and this is more a series of well staged numbers to present the guys to best advantage, in which it succeeds. If I was considering an off it would engage me as a hot display, but as an actual show it does not stand up to Castro. I brought the wrong expectations. The last day Bangkok guy spends the afternoon with me at the pool, looking very fetching in speedos. He selects the most shaded spot under a big awning and when he is not swimming covers himself in both a robe and a towel to maintain his pale complexion. He is also grateful for my SPF 50 sun screen. And now we part and I know I will miss him. All relationships are transactional, it is the contours of the transaction which differ. With butterflying the short-term and financial nature of the transaction is most clear. With my preference for staying with someone if they are a good fit, things get blurrier on both sides, with the ever-present risk of crossing over into unrealistic expectations of both support and of feeling. When I butterfly, the agreement is the agreement. After spending several days with someone, getting to know them, their aspirations, enjoying their company, liking them, I feeling treating the agreement as the agreement is a bit impersonal and like to do something a bit more for them, within the bounds of friendship, without over-stepping the bounds of the realistic. I give Bangkok guy an envelope marked 'for your studies' which contains an amount that, when added to the regular off fees, will cover a little over half of his course costs. I hope he is serious about this. I think he is and, if he is, he will not be the first guy I have known to complete his studies and move on to a professional career.

The morning starts with the swimmer, back from a shower, rolling his toned body into mine with a dazzling smile. He has little 'moustache ends' at the corner of his mouth which accentuate his smile. However the best laid plans do not always play out. In this case delayed gratification lead to a pleasant time but no more than average despite goodwill on both sides. Sometimes things just do not click. He is happy with the tip, which I guess to be about average Pattaya long time and this tells me that humorous guy has not told his bar friends how much I gave him. After a morning by the pool thelimopattaya arrive on time for the trip back to Bangkok. I am very sorry to be leaving with so much left to do, but that means there is a future trip to look forward to. In Bangkok I do some light gift shopping and spend a few hours at the hotel pool. Bangkok guy and I had agreed to meet at 9pm, but that was almost a week ago and who knows what has happened in his world in that time that might distract him from an appointment with someone whose contact details he does not have. At around 8.40pm I take a seat in Maxis to sip a lime juice and watch the passing throng. From there I think I will probably see him arriving. By 9.45pm I have not seen him, so I go to the bar and ask mamasan if he has arrived. He checks, cannot find him, but no worry, he will call him, have a drink and look at other boys while you wait. Five minutes later a big smile, boy was at gym, he on way now, maybe you want a second boy? Ever the pitchman. Bangkok boy arrives a few minutes later with a smile a mile wide and no indication that he should have been any earlier, but with that smile who cares about pernickety details of time. He choses a place for dinner (The Papaya) and also the food, which is very good. After eating I am a little tired and so we shelve plans to visit a jazz bar and go to the hotel. He is again a real pleasure in bed and we sleep soundly, entwined. The morning is the surprise. He told me the first time we met that he usually slept until afternoon. This morning, as I have no plans except the pool and he has no plans except to be with me and later the gym, he proceeds to sleep until around 1pm. Initially I am nonplussed with the sweet immovable lump next to me. I am usually awake with the dawn and if I am in bed beyond 9am something is wrong. But today all I would be doing is lying by the pool, so why not go with the flow and lye with him. He is very cuddly and we drift through the morning on a soft wave of semi-sleep, his unflagging morning wood a tantalizing promise of what might come once his mind catches up with his body. Around one in the afternoon he stretches, begins to massage my scalp and this promise is more than fulfilled.

Its was for just one hour at that time, but he did not expect me to take it. He did not really want to be offed at that time. He preferred that we connect the next day via Line and arrange something.

After swimming I pour a glass of wine and sit on the balcony to watch the sun set. This is my last evening and I have the luxury of too many possible ways to fill it. I would like to finally meet guys at the Complex; having a drink with humorous guy and seeing what he can 'arrange' with the swimmer-build guys is intriguing; my coyote dancer fixation still needs to be worked out; and another evening with stunning guy would be fun. Logistics, logistics! I decide to prioritize the Complex and humorous guy's 'arrangements', with stunning guy as the back up plan. The coyote dancer is I think a very long shot, now that I have thought over the Castro's likely business model. My guess is that the coyotes are available for take-out, but not in the same way as go-go dancers. They are incentivized to stay to 2am closing by the significant tips they can make. My guess is that their first dance set is to get them noticed by the pre-show crowd. During the show they are asked to join tables and get tipped and also, I suspect, get paid by the club for the alcohol they encourage their tables to order and offer as toasts to the performers. Some of the groups order multiple bottles of spirits. During their second performance after the show the remaining crowd is well-liquored and very free with tips and invitations to join tables. By 2am they are well-tipped, tired and possibly a little tipsy from offered drinks, so the prospect of an off at that point may not be attractive. However, I have seen customers handing their iphones to the coyotes to enter contact details, so I suspect the idea is to arrange a rendezvous during the day. If I am right about this, I have understood the model a day too late to be of use to me! I go to Poseidon for dinner - squid ink spaghetti and seafood sauce (excellent) and a carafe of Nero d'Avola. I am very happy to find this Sicilian favorite on the list. A little before 10pm I walk slowly through the Complex. It is less crowed than the previous night and it is easier to watch the guys. When I get to @Home I am mobbed by five guys, one of whom is the very cute guy I had smiled away last night. We sit together. He is small town Cambodian, here two months, very little English and has clear boundaries: 'chuck wow'. He is also a little nervous and I think I will need to relax him if this is going to be fun. Back at the apartment we sit on the balcony with the silence of the language barrier and his nerves between us. He goes inside to his backpack and comes back with a laser pencil and now the ice is broken as he fires the beam at distant buildings and lights up the balcony ceiling with disco patterns. He pulls off his t-shirt and declares 'shower'. In the shower I massage him and admire his naturally muscular compact torso. In bed he is initially shy but I find ways to make him laugh - his smile radiates joy - and as a further ice breaker ask him if he knows massage? 'A little'. His 'little' is quite a lot I think. Its a great massage and as he gets into it he relaxes and his smile becomes permanent. We spend a slow, relaxing and sensual time together, respecting his boundaries. Why am I only spending time with him now, on my last night! He smiles at the larger-than-expected tip and as we leave the apartment together, he to the Complex and me to Boystown, I realize in his arms I have lost all track of time. It is after 12.30am. Arriving at Boystown around 1am I decide that there is little chance that humorous guy or the pair of swimmers will still be at Cupidol and head to BBB. But as I pass Castro the coyotes are in full dance and like a moth to the flame I take a seat in the bar. It is clear the coyotes have been talking. As I sit they nudge 'my' coyote and begin to gesture that I should ask him to join me, which I do. Face-to-face he has magnificent bedroom eyes. He has been dancing for two months. Before that he worked in a hotel. He would be happy to join me at the apartment - 5000Bt. Ok. But now with a screech the needle skids across the LP of life and the music stops to heavy silence "but tonight I can only do one hour". He is not surprised that I do not think this is a good option. If I give him my contact details he can Line me and we can arrange something at a better time. With great regret I tell him this is my last night and give him a generous table tip for the pleasure he has given my eyes over several nights. He escorts me to the door with a deep wai - he is completely confident he has a fish on the line who will return at some point to be reeled in. He might not be wrong. Flipping a mental coin I go to Cupidol. Humerous guy is long gone, but one of the swimmers is still there and is all smiles. (to be a touch cynical at 1.50am I think he would be all smiles to a three headed loch monster). Back at the apartment I decide to go for quality in the morning rather than tired second-shot-of-the-night fumbling and after a little light mutual exploration we fall asleep.

In the morning, after a lazy start and laps in the pool, I head into Pattaya to give it a second chance. After walking the full length of the beach, pausing for a bite for lunch, it is definite: Pattaya is not my kind of place. Too crowded. Deciding against taking refuge on the Hilton roof top I return to Jomtien and spend the afternoon in a deck chair on the gay beach people watching and reading a book. Late in the afternoon I swim more laps and then sit on the balcony with a glass of wine, watch the sun set and consider the options for the evenings entertainment. The cougar dancer from Castro is top of the list of possibilities. I also do not like my failure to connect at the Complex and want to try again, being more observant where I sit this time. Stunning guy is also a draw, but I want to keep things light and butterfly which, for me, requires focus as being as selective as I am I typically end up going down one of three roads: (a) I do not see anyone who really draws my attention and go to bed by myself, which is fine with me as I rate quality way way above quantity; (b) I see someone interesting, sleep with them, and it is ok but nothing more than ok, so no repeat; © Things click and then I tend to stick with them and explore no further. Stunning guy is definitely in group © but on this trip for various reasons I want to stay out of the mold and keep exploring. Walking slowing through the Complex a little before 10pm I get to the bar opposite @Home and the guy I missed last night is not to be seen. Then someone is pulling at my right arm and I turn to see that it is the other guy who I liked the look of last night but who had disappeared by the time I realized my mistake at the first bar. He really is gorgeous. Sweet face, naturally muscled compact torso and bubble butt and darker complexion. In the moment I decide that my mission tonight is the cougar dancer and smile him away and all the way to Boystown I am thinking 'that may have been a massive mistake'. I sip a coffee on the terrace at Casto and watch the performers arrive. The cougars start dancing at 11pm and the show starts at 11.30pm. I get a smile of recognition from 'my' cougar as he arrives and the waiter repositions my chair so I can watch them dance from the terrace. I want to be out there when they finish so I can catch him after the show starts. 'My' cougar is really working it and keeping an eye on me. A party of young Chinese arrive just before the show and sit in reserved seats in the front row, very similar to last night. The show starts. 'My' cougar maintains flirtatious contact but does not get close and I realize that the arrival of the Chinese group has altered the dynamic. He is keeping me warm while waiting to see if this group turns into a party-time like last night. He can make a lot in tips from a party group. Fair enough, the party may or may not happen, but I do not need to sit and wait through it. I signal to him that I will be back and leave to explore other bars for the next hour. Earlier from the terrace I had seen a fresh group of guys coming out of BBB, so I go to investigate. Yes, they have new dancers and they are more to my taste! This gives me an incentive to visit the other bars and see if they too have improved. As I step out of BBB I pause to decide which way to go and the door guy from Cupidol calls me across. I don't want to waste time, so I ask how many boys tonight. He pauses and thinks, moving his fingers, 'fifteen'. Ok, I need to check his maths and when I enter the bar I see he did indeed major in mathematics. An attractive group too. Humerous guy is there and waves to me. He is a little outside my taste range, very striking looking but a little fem. However he has a sense of humor and that goes a long way, so I ask him over for a drink thinking I might enjoy the conversation until I return to Castro. He is very amusing. I begin to think that the fem thing is an overlay that he has adopted as clients think it goes with his looks and over time it has become a type of second nature. Beneath this is a serious poultry breeder (his current objective is another house for chickens) who is versatile (I believe him) and very much all about business (am I here alone? do I have a boyfriend? etc) in such a charming way that I can't take offense. He sees me looking at the other boys, particularly a couple of more swimmers-build guys, and reading the situation quickly tells me that if I like them I should call them over, he will be happy with a drink, no problem, but if I like him then it is only him. No groups. Breaking the mold, I ask humorous guy to come with me. This guy is entertaining, cougars can wait. As we leave I find the image of him with his manicured nails and very sharp dress-sense down in the chicken house breeding poultry quite surreal. However, an image of him organizing his mother and siblings in the work I can believe. Back in Jomtien he surveys the apartment (I took a lot of trouble to find a well designed apartment) and the view from the balcony and tells me, very much in the way of David Attenborough appraising a tribal society, that I am wealthy. I tell him I wish that was so, but I am not at all. No, with great authority, he begs to differ. Why,I ask? Europeans do not have this type of apartment. What type do they have? He gives me a very detailed answer - if his market knowledge of poultry is anything like his knowledge of Boystown clients I am in the presence of the future head of the Thai version of Tyson Foods. Now I am intrigued to know what type of accommodation different nationalities have, but a warm, sensuous and enthusiastic mouth covers mine and stops further conversation. He has bagged and tagged his catch and now intends to enjoy it. Again I must ask you to create your own visions of whatever makes you happy, albeit this time at a rather fast tempo which should lead to exhausted sleep. However, much later in the morning, I am tossing and turning and feeling strangely apprehensive as though I have had unrecalled bad dreams which have left an emotional residue. I find one indicator of compatibility is how well you sleep with someone. Bangkok guy and I slept deeply and entwined in each other, stunning guy and I slept lightly always in body contact and aware of each other. Humorous guy and I are quite apart from each other and tossing and turning. In the hazy dawn light he wakes me as he goes out on the balcony. He is beautiful. The dull pain at the back of my eyes indicates I am very short of sleep and I still have the strange apprehensive feeling. I join him on the balcony. Ever a quick read, he sees plans made last night for morning 'boom boom' will not happen. He is concerned. I tell him I am just very tired. He slept well, it was me who did not. Ever the professional, he tells me to come to the bar tonight, no need to pick him, he will be happy to talk and if I want other boys he will help organize whatever I want. We say a fond farewell and I give him a very generous tip (we had not discussed up front) and suddenly David Attenborough is back: You are wealthy he declares, his pleasure in having his analysis 'vindicated' lighting up his face. And I think, 'well, the price of tonight's entertainment just went up'. I dozed fitfully until mid morning, skipped laps in the pool and had a light meal at the Sketchbook which perked me up a little but still not back to normal, so back to bed and slept until late afternoon. I finally got up and went out to the balcony, only to make a sudden dash to the bathroom. Something from lunch yesterday was bad and had been slowly passing through my gut, probably explaining the poor sleep and bad dreams. With it expelled, all my energy returned and I went to the pool to swim many laps.

The next morning after a pleasant farewell to stunning guy I did a few laps in the pool and then set off down the beach for the day's Big Expedition. The plan was to walk down the beach to Glass House restaurant for lunch, about a two hour walk according to Google Maps. Perfect day to stroll along and enjoy the changing beachfront landscape. Some areas are definitely better than others and at some point the beach disappears - at a final and very optimistic deck chair concession with waves lapping around the umbrellas - and residents gain Ocean Access rather than Beach Access. Fancy new condos along the Ocean Access strip made me wonder to whom they are selling - Chinese who buy off a brochure and are rather surprised on their first visit? Fishermen? The beachfront road finally ran out at a restaurant. I had not checked the details of the route carefully enough and had just assumed the road went all the way. Out with the iPhone and I see the important detail I had missed. While I was very close to the Glass House as the crow flies, without wings the route required a 40 minute walk inland around new developments with direct ocean access, part of which required walking along the highway and, without footpaths, this had no appeal. Hoping to find a local walking track I opted to cut through the developments to a village by a small fishing harbor where the locals told me sorry, no track, the only way is back to the highway. I went to the local restaurant to regroup over a beer and the owner said he would call me a cab to complete the trip when I was ready. It was a very restful place to sit with a slight breeze, the fishing boats gently rocking and a view to the ocean beyond. Absolutely quiet. Some locals came in for lunch and when the smell of cooking reached me I wrote off the Glass House and asked for a menu. Really great fresh seafood - whole fish baked in salt and 'seafood seafood' soup which turned out to be small octopus, calamari and shrimp in a delicate clear vegetable broth. If you have transport to get there and want a quiet restful break I can recommend it. It shows up on Google Maps with a Thai label only, at the end of Na Jomtien 6, a rating of 4/5 mostly by Thais. Back to Jomtien by local taxi and a long nap so I can explore the Jomtien Complex refreshed. I walked to the Complex a little before 10pm. The place was lively but, with no experience of host bars, I found walking past trying to identify interesting boys a little awkward. How do you stare into a bar full of both boys and patrons without appearing gauche? After a couple of laps there were two guys who I thought I would like to talk to. Backtracking to the first bar I was greeted by the boy who interested me and his colleague seated me. The boy I liked then ignored me and his colleague, not my type, tried to make conversation. More awkwardness as the colleague was very slow to take the hint that it was not him with whom I wanted to speak. 'My boy' and I exchanged glances, but he did not come over. Bait and switch? Other boy's turn? It can't have been the latter as the first colleague got the hint finally, only to be replaced by another boy who was very much not my type. Another patron walked in and 'my boy' greeted him, took his order and sat with him! The penny finally dropped. The 'colleague' who had seated me was not a colleague at all but a wily opportunist from the neighboring bar with almost identical furniture who had intervened to misdirect me to the wrong side of the aisle. Lesson learned. I paid the tab, exchanged mutually regretful glances with 'my guy' who clearly understood what had happened and departed for the more familiar territory of GoGo bars in the hope that the first night's experience in Boystown had been an aberration. Start with Cupidol again. I met the guy with the sense of humor outside on his way out. With a cheeky grin he told me too late tonight, come back for me tomorrow. Inside it was the same story as the previous night but now down to four boys. The mamasan told me 'many boys off already'. It was about 10.40pm, so combining her stories from both evenings Cupidol has a tight window of 10pm to 10.35pm between the arrival of the boys and their being offed. Special boys in high demand. Over to BBB and the same group as the previous night. Stunning guy was there but I felt like a change of pace from two tops. After two repeats of the previous night's disappointment I did not feel like visiting every bar and experiencing mass deja vu. Taking a seat on a terrace with a coffee I decided to watch the World go by and see what came along. What came along after about 30 minutes was an apparition in gold sequined shorts, soon followed by two further such apparitions out of the bar behind me. I had taken a seat on Castro's terrace and the cougar dancers were taking a break after warming up the crowd for the show. I had missed this the first night. I asked the waiter to move me inside. The place was packed and I had a stroke of luck when a cute young guy who was part of a larger group called to the waiter and gave me their spare chair to save me sitting at the back. Lip-synching shows are not usually my thing. They have to be really good to hold my attention for more than a minute. This one was really really good. Excellent costumes and choreography, a mix of humor and truly professional performers who understood how to work the crowd. The crowd that night helped. Front row were two young Chinese guys and their female friends who were totally and hilariously into the whole thing and their antics energized the audience so soon everyone was into it, giving the performers a lot to work with. During a bathroom break I came across the initial sequined apparition at the bar and exchanged smiles on the way back to the table, thinking I would catch up with him after the show. Experienced readers will spot the error here. At some point during the show he delivered a bottle of spirits to the Chinese group and they asked him to join them. At the end of the show the cougars started dancing again and it was clear that while the Chinese had not offed him, and I suspected probably would not, there was a party in progress that seemed a bit mean to break up given how much amusement their antics had provided. So happily back to Jomtien for sleep in my own company.

After almost three decades of visiting Thailand this is the first time I have made it outside Bangkok. So far, if I was forced into the artificial choice of "pick one only, Bangkok or Pattaya", I would pick Bangkok. Artificial, as they are two quite different flavors. Bangkok is sophisticated and urban to an international standard (in parts), Pattaya is laid-back beach party town. However, so far, I prefer the gay scene in Bangkok over Pattaya. This could just be the result of a lot of experience in Bangkok - good and bad - versus a single snapshot of Pattaya. From experience I know the scene is very changeable, so I plan to visit both in future and see if first impressions change. Within Pattaya, I like Jomtien but do not like Pattaya. Pattaya is too crowded to be my idea of a beach vacation. I am very happy to be staying in Jomtien. I started this trip with a visit to XSize in Bangkok where I have had the best and the worst of my experiences. Start with a dice roll. Last time XSize had so few boys there was a crackdown on non-Thais, so I assume this is happening currently. So on to Dreamboys where one of the boys was discretely eyeing me. My experience is that discrete attention is often a better sign than very overt attention grabbing. Asked the mamasan's opinion and got a very positive response, so asked him over. Very charming guy. Then he asks for 4000Bt long time. A little surprising as the bar is busy but not crowded and while I think he is attractive I am not sure he will ring the bell for everyone. However, at least he is up-front and he is the one I like, so we settle for 3500Bt. I ask him if he is hungry and he is, so ask him to pick a restaurant and he picks a good Thai place and, when I ask, selects the food. After the initial 'up to you' he can make decisions. I like that. Over dinner he tells me he only works when he needs to raise funds for his studies. That is why he is very direct about what he needs. Good for him. We go to Jupiter2018 as it was not open last time I was in Bangkok and I am keen to see it. We arrive after the show. Modest crowd. Excellent female vocalist performing. About 8 boys 'backing' her look like commuters hoping to catch the attention of the next taxi rather than cold fashion models. I feel a little sorry for them. Each is very attractive and I think if these are the guys that are left, the ones that have gone must have been stellar. Another visit is in order. I like this guy and we have agreed to meet when I return to Bangkok. (Yes, there is a gap in the narrative here, fill it in with whatever makes you happy and want to meet a guy again). TheLimoPattaya collect me the next day. They are very good - thanks for the recommendation. I check into the condo in Jomtien, get a bite to eat watching the sunset by the beach and then jet lag kicks in brutally and ends the day. Rise early, swim a few lengths in the pool and them walk as far as I can by the beach around the headland towards Pattaya until the path ends and I am forced to take to the roads. The beaches around the headland are gorgeous with multiple rows of shade trees, no traffic and fewer people. Pattaya is an ugly shock. Crowds, traffic, narrow beach, far fewer shade trees. I pass through Boystown to familiarize myself, walk as far as the Hilton and have a caprina at the roof bar. From this elevation Pattaya looks wonderful. if only I didn't have to go back down to ground level. In the evening after a nap and more laps in the pool back in Jomtien, I head to Boystown arriving around 9.40pm. Cupidol is the first stop, Five boys and me staring at each other. One has a sense of humor about it. Mamasan says come back later, some boys running late. I cross over to BoysBoysBoys. One guy is stunning, a couple not for me although I can see why others will like them and the rest, the vast majority, are so far outside my taste range they are U3C - Unfortunate Third Category. This never happens. I am very selective - my friends tease me mercilessly about it - but this high a proportion is rare. Now I wonder if the stunning guy is really a diamond or, by association, must be zirconium. He was checking me out discretely, a good sign, but no need to find out now, I want to explore all the bars on this first visit and what I find is more cases of me staring at five guys, or only finding two guys (Dream Boys) or a further disproportionate U3C representation (XBoys and one other place). The show at XBoys had my hopes up but when it ended the performers I liked were nowhere to be seen. So back to BBB and there they were! A traveling troupe. The next part of the BBB show featured the stunning guy. We talked when he came round collecting tips after the act and he was a very sweet guy. It was an amusing conversation. He was a little wary of what two tops would do, possibly he has encountered a few overly insistent customers, but we cleared that up. I returned to Jomtien pillion on his motorbike, a new and very nice acquisition of which he was proud and consequently drove very carefully (also my impression is that he is a very reliable guy). None-the-less as I went up the Jomtien hill at some speed sans crash helmet it crossed my mind that it would make for an interesting obituary. And now another discreet gap in the narrative for you to fill with your own happy thoughts.

Thank you all for the recommendations. I have booked a car with thelimopattaya.