A Slow Day at My Place Hostel
November 4 began quietly at My Place Hostel. Instead of rushing to another city, I gave myself permission to stay an extra night. It was a day for catching up on editing, writing, and simply enjoying a slower rhythm.
To start the morning, I stepped into the small cafĆ© next door, run by the same people who owned the hostel. I ordered my usualāan Americano for 40 baht, about 180 yen. Ever since Cambodia, Iāve developed a soft spot for this simple coffee. It isnāt fancy, but it has become a comforting ritual, a small anchor in a life that is always on the move.
Wandering the Streets
After finishing my coffee, I set out for a short walk. The city was already awake, with shops opening as early as six in the morning. One boutique displayed both modern and traditional clothing side by side, and the people browsing inside seemed just as diverse. This mix is something Iāve come to love while travelingāevery city carries its own atmosphere, its own expression of culture, and seeing these little differences never gets old.
Soon I found something I couldnāt resist: fried chicken. Thailand seems to have stalls on every corner selling itābreast meat, crispy skin, even fried chicken feet. I bought a few pieces to take back to the hostel.
On the way home, I passed by one of those air-filled dancing figures used to attract customers. When youāre riding a bicycle, their sudden movements can feel startling, almost as if they might leap into the road. On foot, though, they made me laugh.
Work and Small Comforts
Back at the hostel, I discovered that my roomās Wi-Fi was weak. After exploring the floor, I found a strong connection at the very end of the hallway. That spot became my little office for the day.
As I worked, I enjoyed the fried chicken I had bought earlier. The vendor had kindly chopped it into bite-sized pieces, making it easy to eat while typing. Even the chicken feet, which I expected to be too bony, turned out to be soft enough to finish completely.
In the middle of work, the hostel provided fresh water and toilet paper for the day. It might sound small, but for me, it felt significant. Most guesthouses donāt supply these things daily, and since I usually stay only one night, I rarely notice. This was the first time I received such thoughtful service, and I was honestly grateful. Buying water almost every day can add up, so being given it freely felt like a small blessing.
Meeting a Fellow Cyclist
The biggest surprise of the day came when I met another traveler at the hostelāsomeone also journeying by bicycle. We struck up a conversation, and he invited me to take a look at his bike setup.
It was incredible. The handlebars were an H-bar typeāsomething I have wanted for a long time. Just seeing his gear made me feel excited and inspired. Every item on his bike told a story, and I could have spent hours just learning from the details.
We decided to take a walk through the city together. As we talked, he shared that he was cycling from Vietnam all the way to Bali, Indonesia. Our directions overlapped, though his pace was much fasterācovering around 100 kilometers a day. I couldnāt imagine sustaining that distance daily. The stamina and determination required left me in awe.
Talking About Life
During our walk, the conversation flowed easily. We spoke about travel, work, and the kind of lifestyle that comes from living on the road. He was older than me, yet his energy and outlook were inspiring. Meeting someone like him reminded me of my own hopes for the journey ahead.
I told him that one of my goals is to make not just one hundred friends through travel, but perhaps a thousand friends who also ride bicycles. The thought made us both laugh, but behind the humor, it felt like a genuine dream. Encounters like this, unexpected yet deeply meaningful, are what give my journey its heart.
A Day Well Spent
By evening, I realized I hadnāt covered much distance on the road, but I had traveled far in other ways. I had enjoyed small comforts, discovered new corners of the city, and shared stories with a fellow traveler who understood the rhythm of life on two wheels.
Sometimes, staying still offers just as much as moving forward. November 4 reminded me of that truth.
