After a 15 hour hellish journey on Jet airways with the most incompetent cabin crew we have ever laid eyes on we arrive in Bangkok bedraggled and pale. After settling in to our hotel we were called in for a group meeting with our tour guide for the next few days. His name was Jack and he looked like a fat Buddha. After being bored rigid for two hours and being warned of the dangers of Tuk Tuks at night we jump straight into one. Unbeknown to us the driver was an undercover Micheal Schumacher and he’d spotted his comrade Damon Hill. The experience that followed was both hair raising and sweat inducing as we stormed through red lights and mowed down everything in our path. Unable to move our hands from their white knuckle grip we decided it was time for a ping pong show. We were ushered into a dirty basement under the pretence that we would witness a turtle emerging from a snatch. After seeing the two dead pan faces of two saggy old bags remove flourescent neon string and razor blades from their respective vaginas we thought it was time to leave. I am considering starting a charity.