Our regular contributor, the award-winning writer John Borthwick, amuses himself by imagining what would happen if William Shakespeare and other great writers were to visit Thailand via a chatbot app.

Thailand, often shrouded in marketing slogans and countless S-words: Land of Smiles, Singha, sand, sex, and so on. In search of fresh descriptions of this fascinating destination, I delved into AI—artificial, so-called intelligence—to see if literature's finest wordsmiths could transcend the usual clichés.

I asked an AI chatbot to "experience" Thailand in the style of famous writers. First, the 19th-century Australian bush poet Banjo Paterson. Within 30 seconds, the literature bot launched into ballads:

In Bangkok's streets, where people meet, the tuk-tuks honk and the vendors greet you with a broad smile and a warm heart, in the style of Banjo Paterson's beat.

Ouch! Verses as purple as Australian grass, Paterson's Curse. Thailand's capital deserved more authenticity, so I typed in "Bangkok by William Burroughs"—a frightening thought. The ghost of the vicious American Beat writer soon crept up in a growl.

The streets pulsate with energy that flows through the city's veins, attracting the unwary and the curious alike. From Patpong's seedy bars to its glittering temples, Bangkok is a place of extremes where the sacred and the profane collide with overwhelming intensity – a city that pushes you to the limits of reason and beyond.

Thankfully, Burroughs' dark style wasn't in his infamous "Naked Lunch" vein, but it was still far better than the usual, overused travel clichés. In this state, I challenged the bot—somewhat improbably—to attempt "William Shakespeare on Koh Samui." Avon's algorithm politely complied, offering a poetic response:

Here on this island, a stage for love and destiny, where travelers seek a new home, and where, amidst the shimmering tropical light, a passionate drama unfolds each night. Here, perhaps, Romeo and Juliet meet, beneath the swaying palms and the tropical heat, their love a flame that defies the world, and a deep passion that liberates the soul.

Tropical nonsense, I agree. But one has to give the bot credit: it was incredibly clever when it came to spontaneously composing iambic pentameters.

To stay with the Thai islands from the perspective of British writers, I placed the radical novelist Jeanette Winterson on Koh Phi Phi. The AI ​​voice switched to the third person, flattery mode.

It was the perfect getaway. She had come to Phi Phi to find peace, escape the pressures of everyday life, and immerse herself in nature… time seemed to stand still, Jeanette felt at one with the world around her. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the soft sand between her toes.

If one could sue an algorithm, Winterson would surely have sued it for extreme banality. Undeterred, I continued and suggested a visit to Phuket with the great chronicler of Tudor England, the late Hilary Mantel. The chatbot replied:

Mantel would see the different layers of history that have shaped this island. From the ancient trade routes that brought Chinese and Indian traders here, to the recent influx of Western tourists seeking sun, sand, and sea. She would also explore the darker side, where the excesses of tourism have taken their toll. She would see the towering resorts and ostentatious nightclubs and their impact on the island's ecology and culture.

Okay. And no sign of a swaying palm tree, a mad monarch, or a headless ex.

However, Hilary's AI story proved more convincing than the next interpretation: the tough guy Jack Reacher from Lee Child's novels, on the run in the mystical Phang Nga Bay.

Reacher, fleeing a dangerous criminal organization, seeks refuge in the caves that dot the bay… he discovers clues that lead him to a hidden treasure and must use all his skills to outsmart the criminals and claim the treasure for himself.

It's more like the blurb for Biggles Goes Troppo than Jack the Avenger strikes again.

I'll stick with the theme of "hero on vacation" and am curious how Jo Nesbø's Oslo detective Harry Hole would perceive a Thai airport.

A den of thieves, where the worst scum of society hid. He pushed his way through the crowd, scanning for signs of danger. He could smell the fear and despair, an intoxicating mix that made him feel alive. And then he saw her. A young woman standing alone at the baggage carousel…

The AI ​​bot had disappeared. Nesbo Noir had landed in Phnom Penh in 1978, not in present-day Chiang Mai. Instead, I dialed the number for Chiang Rai, this time a song by Don Walker, the roadhouse poet of the rock group Cold Chisel.

I boarded a plane to Chiang Mai – a city full of color and light, temples shining in the sun, a thousand years of history, what a sight!

No cheap, three-day-old pig could have made it worse. Moving on: My last search queries – Pattaya as Salvador Dalí saw it (“where palm trees grow upside down”) and Hua Hin in rap style (“Yo, dude, listen up…”) – were more than just funny, even for a robot.

Over a Singha beer and a plate of spicy Somtam, I turned to old Banjo Paterson to develop an exit algorithm:

So let us raise a glass to Thailand's land, with its beaches, rice fields and magnificent jungle, and to the people who make it so damn great, in the style of Banjo Patterson's command.

That's nice. Except that in Banjo's time, "Thailand" didn't exist yet. The country was called Siam back then.

All images (c) John Borthwick.