Two high school buddies leave America and begin a new life of fun and freedom in Thailand. They take new names, learn Thai, and experiment with sex, drugs and radical lifestyles -- from spectacular poverty to salacious stardom -- until a tsunami rolls ashore. Set amid the Asian economic boom, Siamese Dreams is rich with insights into relations across cultures and sexes.

"Great writing style. Other writers couldn't even imagine his front-line experiences." -- Christopher G. Moore, author of 17 novels set in Asia

"Original, brilliant and a very entertaining read. I couldn't put it down once I started." -- Claire Leow, Bloomberg News, Singapore

"Profoundly entertaining. Outstripping the works of Somerset Maugham or Alex Garland in its understanding of Thai people, Siamese Dreams is essential reading for anyone visiting the country." --Colin Donald, The Scotsman, United Kingdom

"A brave dive into the heart of Thailand ... a Thai "On the Road". Like Kerouac, Johnson bounces off the people around him as he tries to discover what makes them tick, and what makes him tick. More light than darkness, it affectionately explores an exquisite country with broad scope and profound appreciation."
--Fred Varcoe, Foreign Correspondents' Club of Japan

-----Opening Chapter:

The ocean was lulling him to sleep when a phone buzzed in his pocket.
Pulling out the phone, he recognized the number of his brother, a police officer in Phuket. He never called this early -- 10:18 a.m. -- on a Sunday morning, the day after Christmas.
"Wa ngai, pii?" Jo said in Thai. "What's up, brother?"
"Nam tuam," his brother replied. "Flooding. In Phuket."
"Flooding?" said Jo in disbelief. The morning sky above him in Phang-nga, next to Phuket, was clear and blue.
"A big wave come," said his brother. "Big big wave. They call it sunami."
"A what?"
"Su-na-mi. It means big big wave. Destroy houses, cars, everything. Kill many people in Patong beach. Everybody running away."
"You're joking," Jo said. "I never heard that word before."
The phone line went dead. Jo checked his battery level -- still full. Maybe his brother's battery was low.
Jo waited, then tried ringing again. Still no response. There was also no connection to his brother's home or work numbers at Kathu police station. He thought it was a problem with his phone service. His server was cheap, only one baht a minute during daytime hours. He often had trouble with his answering machine, and receiving calls.
Waiting for his brother to call back, Jo arranged the chairs and tables in his open-air restaurant, the Oceanview. It had the best view in the whole resort area of Khao Lak; maybe the best view in all of southern Thailand. From his perch, Jo could see dozens of resorts hugging the coastline all the way to Laem Pakarang, Coral Point. Thousands of rooms were full for the holidays. Tourists, mostly from Germany and Scandinavia, resembled an army of ants invading the beaches of southern Thailand.

Still unable to reach anybody in Phuket, he began to worry. His wife Maew was at her mother's place in Phuket with their daughter. Maybe his brother wasn't joking about the big big wave.
Jo looked out to sea. The Andaman was a blue marlin in the morning sun.

And then, on the horizon, he saw it. It was a thin line of white, stretching all the way from south to north.
Below on the beach, he also noticed something unusual. The tide was out much farther than normal. Tourists on the expanded sand bar were taking pictures of the bizarre sight. Thai hotel staff were collecting fish stranded on the exposed sea floor. "The water's dry," they called out to each other. "Come and get some fish!"
The crowds on the beach couldn't see what Jo could see from his hilltop viewpoint. The white line was moving fast, and heading straight for the beach, and the hundreds of people still asleep in their rooms.