My best friend frequents Thailand. A lot. Picture that bad boy, bro school teacher from “The Hangover,” with enough funds to jet set as he pleases. I believe the veracity of his tales because of how long I’ve known him, but man…the dark alleyways, the prize fights, the knife weilding pimps…to say nothing of the time him and the bros took a drunken boat ride sneaking into Cambodia, MSNing me from Phnon Penh back when people still used MSN. Frankly, I’m surprised he hasn’t died yet.
Me, by contrast, I don’t like to rough it, go clubbing, stay in hostels, or go any place that’s even remotely dangerous. If i were to ever visit SE Asia (or anywhere, really), I’d stay in a four or five star hotel, and learn enough about gamelan or whatever their indigenous music is to write a blog post to impress my old musicologist colleagues. I would buy knick knacks and stay in brightly lit areas, and carefully scrutinize how much I drank, spent, and what exactly it was I was eating.
Something tells me though, that there are way more tourists in Thailand like my buddy than there are like me. So I can’t say I’m shocked Aussies and Brits are getting killed there.