Khao San Road is Decadent and Depraved...

Flying in at midnight had not been as difficult as I'd suspected it might be. The Thai aren't generally known for their efficiency, however their airport service seems to be an exception. It took less than ten minutes to clear immigration, and by the time we located the right baggage carousel our luggage was already waiting for us. Customs barely even acknowledged us. In fact, the trickiest part of out arrival turned out to be getting a legitimately priced cab ride. Barely an hour after our plane touched down we had already made our way downtown and were checking into our hotel on Khao San Road.
I never knew I could find the smell of moist air and sewage to be nostalgic, but that's exactly how I felt when I stepped out our hotel lobby and into the night air of Bangkok. At 1:30 am the streets were packed with people. British hooligans in Beer Chang and Red Bull T-shirts, young Australian girls with psychedelic sarongs wrapped around their waists, Japanese hippies with dirty dread locks, and industrious Thai people all wanting to make a buck off this sideshow of freaks. Music blasted from all directions creating a dizzying surround sound of garage rock, British pop and hardcore techno. Everyone is drunk. The ones who aren't shouting in slurred speech are laughing or stuffing their faces with cheap, delicious pad thai.
A twenty two hour series of flights and layovers had taken their toll on both our senses. I felt high. Amanda looked overwhelmed. We had barely taken three steps before the onslaught of tuk-tuk drivers approached from the curbside.
"You want tuk-tuk?" asked one short Thai man, his small, sun-weathered face beaming at me from below. Though I declined this did not dissuade another man five feet from him.
"Ping pong show?" he asked me. I smiled over at Amanda and politely declined his offer.
"All night party?" A third desperate attempt failed equally well.
Khao San Road is capitalism's ugly and inevitable conclusion. Here, no matter the time you can find almost anything you want: Cheap clothing, bootleg DVDs, unreliable electronics, food, sex. Hotel rooms cost next to nothing, and you get what you pay for. All of the reasons above make this district the obvious first stop for backpackers making their way into Southeast Asia. I've bought cheap airline tickets at 2am for flights the following afternoon, here. I've also endured watching the Passion of the Christ while having dinner and drinks.
Most experiences here will be by any standard, undeniably tacky. As authentic as the themed restaurants of Disneyland. But don't blame the Thai people for that. They're just giving the Westerners, or farang as they'd call them, exactly what they want. Everything here is non-threatening and familiar, but with a little twist. The watering hole I stopped in for drinks would be familiar to any British or Aussie sports fan. Chelsea playing Bristol on the stretched image of the flat screen in the corner. Darts and pool over near the bar. But the menu, both dinner and draft, reveal the truth of the about where we are: fresh curries for snacking and Beer Chang (the local pilsner), on tap.
Familiar, yet foreign. Chaotic, yet comforting. Khao San Road is decadent and depraved. But as a gateway to the East, it serves it's purpose. And as a weary traveler, I wouldn't have it any other way.