Baronbonk.com: Sadao and the Malaysian border

My editor among others recently attended a hash (something nasty involving exercise and excessive beer drinking) on the Malaysian border and came back with stories of such debauchery I had to find out the truth for myself.
I know many of you routinely take the long road south to Sadao and Padang Bazaar to get that three monthly stamp. I must admit that in the past this has all been a bit of a blur. My memories are always somehow erased from my mind, almost as though I had not been there at all. Now I can talk with confidence about the bridge over the road, the duty free in the middle and the Malaysian immigration form, even if some of the details of the night’s activities are a little blurred.
The border town is right on the border, some 15 kms south of Sadao, just keep going to the border (drive though a lorry inspection area). There is an area of newish buildings with more and seemingly more buildings being built. I was told to head behind the 7/11 on the West side of the road and I would find a hotel. There are dozens of small hotel and guesthouses. We stayed in PS Mansions, which was 600 Baht, and was better than the Jojo Court next-door that was 450 Baht.
The area we were interested in is only a few blocks, on both sides of the road although the West side seemed to have more to offer. The buildings and streets are basic and confusing. Confusing because having been sent here by the mad hashers I was sure that beer in vast quantities would be readily available. Then with rooms secured and a long drive behind us the one thing we desperately needed was a beer. However we could not find a sign that said that simple but inviting word “bar.”
I thought a saw such a sign, but when I closed on the area it seemed to evaporate, then I saw a sign on a pillar, ‘Barber’ it said, still no bar. However I discovered later that right next door to the Hollywood No Bra Bar is the ‘Bottle Bar’, which does sell bottles of beer – big and small, but it is a sit-outside-in-the-street place and obviously with no air-con!
However there were plenty of strange cafes with blacked out windows and doors guarded by nefarious persons, some male some female, who wanted us to go inside. But it was early and a beer first was our single thought. When all else failed we accepted the inevitable and trundled into the Hollywood No Bra café.
Inside it was dark, with a bright stage on which ladies sang. We were led to a table and as our eyes became accustomed to the gloom we realised we were in a large room, with stage and service-only style bar. We were sitting on high stools at high tables, as were most others. We ordered a Heineken and a Carlsberg and were rewarded with two large bottles. This we quickly discovered was the norm, large bottles only, but at about the same price the Crown Group (Nana Plaza) sells small bottles for! I could see why those hashers would like it!
Now we had discovered the secret of the café we tried several more. Apart from the large bottles, the music was normally deafening and the girls over friendly. Sit down and you got a companion. Driving them off required a scowl, stopping them from topping up your beer glass, or drinking from your bottle. In addition to refusing to buy them a lady drink (50/60 Baht), prohibiting them hanging on to any of your body parts was de rigueur. Then after about ten minutes of trying they would slink off.
Every drink produced a bill and a scowling waiter who would not go away ‘til that bill was paid! The punters were 90% Malaysian and the border is awfully close, but I barely imagine somebody running for the border being pursued by an irate waiter brandishing an unpaid bill. Then I remember all those beer-drinking runners who had assembled here a few weeks earlier. Were they to blame for the close attention the waiters paid?
We tried a few more cafes and then went looking for food. This was clearly not an area of silver service and haute cuisine; on the contrary it was an area of basic Thai and Malaysian food served in a shack. A European hygiene inspector would have had a fit. There was plenty of seafood on display in these street stalls but in the end we settled for the only proper looking restaurant we could find. It was a very basic Chinese place and no sooner had we sat down than a couple of girls suggested they might help us with our repast. They were driven off quite easily. Of course every hotel and lodging place has a massage parlour, thus there are girls hanging around the lobbies of most of these establishments.
Sated we did a further trip around the cafés. The more memorable were:
The Border Club (on the main drag) a large place where some good looking girls provided a go-go show.
Champions Café was another smaller go-go where the odd girl reluctantly removed part of the final covering layer.
The Sha La La was in effect a large karaoke with a show involving many. This was also very busy and had a really good atmosphere.
Winner Café was my final visit and here there was a real buzz with two go-go areas. On one stage the fig leaves were removed and did I spy an almost lesbian act? Well that is certainly what it looked like. I think they need Ricky to do the choreography bit. The girl I bought a drink for was a trifle over relaxed as she staggered into me. But she promised plenty and I thought I would return later.
This is where it went pear shaped. I had arranged to meet the original Baron in an open-air type bar (the only one) that featured live music. Although the Tan Tan was run by some pleasant people unfortunately the band was barely an attraction. After a couple of beers we set out once again for a serious review of the cafes. But disaster had struck. It seems the cafés close at about 10.30; just the time we were listening to some badly played rock standards. All those little girls we had marked out for a later lady drink failed to get their commission.
Surprisingly there were not many girls patrolling the streets but I discovered the reason for that later.
The only places left open were dozens of small karaoke joints. This was something totally new and alien to me. Eventually I was persuaded inside one and fell into conversation (but no singing) with an interesting lady from Korat. The back of the establishment linked up with a café on the parallel street. Now I think I knew where the un-booked out girls were. If not, most of the girls seemed to sleep in house and the doors were locked. I was able to arrange that the lady from Korat should guide me home paying a “booking fee” of 1,500 Baht. “I get 1,000,” she said, “and that is good for me.”
When I went to leave in the morning she wanted to stay in my room until noon as she was locked out of her room. The hotel seemed to think this request was not unusual.
I shall return!

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