
A place where you are greeted by Beefeaters, lead downstairs and surrounded by statues of Elvis and Buddy Holly. It is of course, it could only be, the Scotland Bar. This took Chinese bizarism to even grander levels.
There was no haggis, no caber tossing, not even a kilt. The beefeaters were the only thing remotely British about the place, yet "The Scotland Bar" is its rather innapropriate moniker. But what a place!
Rather than being filled with Irn Bru, Battered Mars Bar and bad 1980's esque perms and leather jacket combo's- it was in fact a rather happening little joint. Probably the closest we have come to a club since being here. In fact with Basement Jaxx was pumping out, light show in full swing, £2 bottle of beer in hand I could have been anywhere else in the world. It was quality.
The evening had started a lot earlier.

So afterwards we left for the bar and after some drunk fueled dancing between Brock and Becky, a superb Karaoke version of Wonderwall by Brock, Wallace and myself, and being accosted by some very expensive Hookers, we ended up in "the Scotland".

People kept treating us to free shots of Whiskey for being "the whities", and after being accosted for using our camera's and threatened to have them confiscated, we started taking sly pictures from under our shirts to actually taking photos of the police men who were threatening to confiscate the cameras.


2 comments:
You make my son sound like a yob! He's a good boy really!!
Anonymous parent
It's a good job you keep putting anonymous parent mother, as otherwise people might actually think it is dad putting these comments on!
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