A Morning of Surprises
October 29th. Greetings once again from a guesthouse in Thailand.
When I looked in the mirror this morning, I noticed how much my hair had grown since I began this journey almost two months ago. Itās longer now, brushing against my neck, and Iāve promised myself not to cut it until my travels are complete. That means Iāll let it grow for seven years. I canāt help but imagine how long it will be thenāitās a small but exciting thought that connects me to the future.
Before I left, I learned that this guesthouse offered breakfast. It was unexpected, so I went to see what it would be like. To my surprise, it was better than I imagined: a buffet with bread, fresh watermelon and other fruits, and unlimited coffee refills. On top of that, there was a main dish includedāeither rice-based or noodle-based. The portion wasnāt huge, but the taste was good, and simply having breakfast provided was enough to make me feel grateful.
All of this for around 400 baht, about 1,800 yen. For this price, I hadnāt expected any breakfast at all, so I felt thankful for this unexpected generosity.
After eating, I packed my things and got ready to leave. The staff had kindly allowed me to store my bicycle inside the hotel overnight, safe and dry. That thoughtfulness stayed with me as I wheeled my bike out into the morning air.
On the Road Again
Todayās ride wasnāt particularly longāabout 53 kilometers. Not a huge distance, but the hills would make it harder. On top of that, November was approaching, and I knew the southern coast near the Gulf of Thailand would soon see heavy rains. The thought of sudden downpours kept me alert.
Still, the road looked perfect for cycling. Smooth, wide, and clean. Since entering Thailand, Iāve been amazed at how good the roads are compared to neighboring countries. In Vietnam, at least in Ho Chi Minh City, motorbikes crowded every corner, making it stressful to ride with all my luggage. In Cambodia, the roads were paved but not as smooth. Thailand, on the other hand, often feels easier to ride than Japan itself.
As I pedaled along, something caught my eye: a massive elephant monument on the left side of the road. I had seen statues before, but nothing this big since entering Thailand. It stood tall and powerful, a reminder of how deeply elephants are woven into this countryās identity.
A Simple Drink, A Small Joy
A little further along, I spotted a shop I had been curious about for days. Every town seemed to have one, and I had promised myself that when I had the time, I would finally stop. Today was that day.
I ordered an orange soda for just 25 bahtāabout 113 yen. The drink was simple, served in a clear plastic cup filled with ice, but after cycling under the hot sun, it tasted incredible. The orange flavor was strong, maybe too strong if you didnāt stir it well, but it was refreshing all the same.
I laughed at myself when I realized I had left most of the ice untouched at the bottom, which made the flavor even more concentrated. Next time, Iāll know better. But still, I couldnāt help but think: where in Japan could I find something so satisfying, so refreshing, for just 25 baht?
The Roadblock
Back on the road, I noticed a traffic jam up ahead. Normally, on a bicycle, I would weave through the cars and slip past. But this time, even the motorbikes were waiting patiently behind the trucks. I decided to do the same.
Soon, the reason became clear: a police checkpoint. Later, I learned that in southern Thailand, near Songkhla, there have been issues with insurgent groups. Because of that, checkpoints have been strengthened in this region.
Watching the officers at work, I couldnāt help but think that I fit the description of someone who might be questioned closelyāa lone foreigner with large bags, traveling south. I silently wished that nothing troubling would happen during my time here.
The Smell of Rain
Not long after passing the checkpoint, I noticed a change in the air. The wind, the smell of the clouds, the heavy feelingāit all pointed to rain. I decided it was best to hurry.
But I had been riding since breakfast without stopping, so I pulled over for one last break. I bought a bottle of water for 10 baht, stretched my legs, and thought about lunch.
Then I remembered: the guesthouse where I was staying tonight was in a rural area. There wouldnāt be many places to eat nearby. Better to buy lunch here.
At a small roadside stall, a kind woman prepared a meal for me. She gave me more food than I asked for, smiling as she said, āThis much is good for you.ā Her generosity touched me. These are the moments I carry with me far beyond the road itself.
Arrival at the Guesthouse
After another 30 minutes of cycling, I finally reached todayās guesthouse. To my disappointment, the cafĆ© next door was closed for the day. Still, the guesthouse itself was beautiful.
A wide courtyard welcomed me, and beyond it stood a charming white house with a soft, cozy atmosphere. Inside, the rooms were spaciousāalmost too large for one person. It felt like a place meant to be shared, but today, it was mine alone.
The owner kindly helped me park my bicycle under a roof, saying, āIt might rain later.ā That simple act of thoughtfulness lifted my spirits.
I sat down with the lunch I had bought earlier. It was delicious, far better than I could have expected. Sometimes street food surprises you with flavors richer than any restaurant. While mistakes can happen, more often than not, these small stalls create food that nourishes both body and heart.
There wasnāt much to do nearby, and I had work waiting. So I stayed, ate, and let the quiet of the guesthouse refresh me. Tomorrow, the road would call again.
