Greg and I stepped off the plane early Sunday morning. It wasn't long before we found ourselves sipping a Chang, the local beer, in a bar on the Koh San Road. It seemed like an unassuming place, the local business owners were opening up around us for another days trade. It wasn't until we were there for a few minutes that the lunacy of the place started to take hold. A women in her forties, sat alone looking quite frail staring in the middle distance searching for something that it seemed she wasn't 100% sure she'd lost. A gaggle of long-haired un-washed sat in the corner with one of their comrades slumped with his head hanging somewhere near his knees. Another sat peering out of two blood shot eyes buying a local woman drinks, being just sobre enough to refuse whatever else it was she was offering. And then, in the mist of the side-show, a young blue-eye Irish man joined us. After we joked about the scene around us, he starting telling us the tricks of his trade. He pulled out at least 6 different I.Ds in at least 5 different names and advised us of how to dodge debt, avoid tax and avade the law. In Bangkok it seems you can be a Doctor, Engineer, Australian. All for the right price.