About GogoHugs

My trips to Thailand started the same way they do for millions of single men every year. I came for the sun, the beaches, the freedom, the feeling of being somewhere warm and alive. I didn’t know much when I booked my first flight. I just wanted a break from routine, and Thailand seemed like the right kind of escape.

Like everyone else, I eventually wandered into the gogo bars. And that changed everything.
Suddenly the nights were just as good as the days. Music, lights, energy, and more beauty in one room than I had ever seen in my life. I’m not someone who even listens to music normally, but the EDM hit differently. I spent hours there, genuinely enjoying myself and feeling something I hadn’t felt in a long time: excitement.

But that wasn’t the real discovery.

The real discovery was something nobody talks about. Something so simple, so human, and somehow so hidden.

In a gogo bar, if you buy a lady drink, you can get something you don’t find anywhere else:

a hug.

A real one. Full body, warm, emotional, grounding.
If you’re a single man, you know exactly how rare that is. You know how long it can be since the last time someone held you, even for a minute.

That small thing changed the way I saw every trip afterward. I didn’t come back to Thailand for the beaches. I didn’t come back for the nightlife in the way people assume. I came back because, for the first time in years, I could feel human connection again. For the price of one drink, someone would hold me for a moment, and that moment meant more than anything else happening around us.

It wasn’t long before I noticed something surprising:
nobody else seemed to know about this.

I met men who had been visiting Thailand for 20, 30, even 40 years, and every one of them said the same thing:

“I’ve never heard of that. I didn’t know you could do that. Nobody ever mentioned it.”

And yet there I was, getting hugged by twenty different girls in one night. Not because I did anything special, but simply because it was possible — and nobody had ever mentioned it.

Where else in the world can you get that kind of innocent, human moment? Nowhere.

That’s when it hit me:
this needed to be shared.
Not the hype.
Not the clichés.
Not the fantasy.
Just the real, human truth behind the neon.

So in early 2025, I started this site.

Not to glamorize anything.
Not to sell dreams.
But to share the little things nobody talks about.
The things you only learn by being here, by paying attention, by being honest with yourself about what you’re looking for — and what you’re missing.

This blog grew from that simple idea.
The rest is history.