Travel Vloggers can be a bore and also vacuous, but not the boomer Vloggers. These are meat and potatoes kind of content creators, and some of the most fascinating ones are, quite frankly, sex tourists.
Dead Farang, a legend in the world of "alternative lifestyle" travel vlogging. He doesn't care for waterfalls, exotic regional cuisine, or filthy backpacking hostels. He's got the information you want about beer, birds, and pool tables.
When I first researched Cambodia, I was given the impression that it was a run down Wild West type situation. On first inspection, I saw it was filled with fucked up looking westerners who had given up on Thailand, and in turn, given up on life. I was amazed to see a busted looking old honky-tron passed out stone cold on the bank of the Mekong river at 2 in the afternoon. Not long after that I saw another man in his 50's, pinging his ballsack off at a small cafe nearby. This fuck did't even have the decency to wear a t-shirt, just a grubby vest and skanked shorts covered in their bad choice of breakfast.
But these failures of societies blessed norms were a welcome site compared with what I witnessed at Red Bar.
Like many newbies in a strange city, I consulted google for guidance. Unfortunately google's algorithm has a tendency to prefer the mundane and played out. I searched for variables of the usual: best street food, best restaurants, best clubs, best markets, best bars. Now the latter is what we are focusing on, the rest is of no concern for you right now. But trust me, you'll want to have a long hard think about how you research ANY of these decisions in the future after reading these paragraphs of disdain.
The guide I selected was the same guide that told me about the other things I was looking to discover. Street food, restaurants, clubs and markets: Culture Trip. I won't put their web address in, they have paid me nothing and therefore I owe them fuck all. I will say they did good on the pizza place I found (because, you know, when in Cambodia you gots to have a pizza). When I looked at their guide for bars, I discovered a pattern of coincidence. Turned out that the Airbnb I had booked out of pure financial convenience was a skip and mince from the best bars, restaurants, and something else I can't remember. So it made sense to check out these places that came so highly recommended as they were so close.
Red Bar was described as some sort of hip tank hole, but I did not really care for that aspect, it was the $1 draught lagers that sold it to me. You cannot go wrong with that sort of deal. NEVER. Even during my first drinking excursion here I found two venues selling 75 cent draughts during happy hour time frames that would make any British man wet as a cum soaked cucumber. Those venues had appalling service and played the same song every 22 minutes, but I got drunk for the cheapest price I have paid in 25 years, so I didn't care.
