A Short Ride, A Long Day of Encounters
October 28th. Greetings from another guesthouse in Thailand.
The morning began with the usual ritual: checking my bicycle. It may seem small, but adjusting a brake, tightening a chain, or spotting a loose screw can mean the difference between a smooth day and a roadside disaster. Maintenance, I’ve learned, is not just a task—it is a form of self-care on the road.
As I was folding my laundry, I noticed something unexpected. Someone had clipped my clothes to the line so they wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. It was a small gesture, but it struck me deeply. Likely, it was the owner’s brother, who had already shown such kindness the day before, patiently explaining details about the local area. These quiet acts of care stay with me longer than any tourist attraction. With gratitude, I thanked the owner before setting off.
The Road South
Today’s ride would be shorter. I had work to do in the afternoon, so I aimed to reach the next guesthouse around lunchtime.
After about ten kilometers, I stopped for a short break. The further south I travel, the more I feel the roadside food stalls thinning out. In the north, they seemed to appear at every turn. Here, you must reach a larger town before you find anything to eat.
By luck, I spotted a small stand next to a 7-Eleven. A woman was selling fried chicken lunch boxes for 40 baht—about 180 yen. At first glance, it looked simple, almost plain. But the taste was remarkable. Maybe hunger sharpens every flavor, or maybe it was just the touch of home cooking. Either way, in that moment, it felt divine. I silently thanked the woman for being there, for cooking, for making that stop so unexpectedly perfect.
With my stomach satisfied, I returned to the road.
The Heat and the Trees
As I pushed further south, I noticed a subtle change in the air. It was warmer. Looking around, I realized why: palm trees, tall and proud, lined the roads. The kind you only see in tropical climates.
Travel teaches you that timing is everything. The wrong season can turn adventure into misery. If you arrive during the endless rains, you might find yourself stuck, waiting for storms that never seem to end. In just two days, I will be cycling below Chumphon, heading into southern Thailand. November marks the start of the rainy season on the east coast, a reminder that every move must be planned with care.
Meeting Another Traveler
Forty kilometers later, I reached the guesthouse. Immediately, I noticed the lobby filled with bags and a bicycle that wasn’t mine. My instinct was to say hello.
He was from Germany. Over the past year, he had cycled across Europe, North Asia, China, Japan, and finally Thailand. His next stops: Singapore, North America, and then back to Europe. Hearing his story was like peeking into my own future. These are the countries I dream of visiting, though for me, it may take five years or more. Listening to him filled me with excitement, reminding me how big the world still is, and how much of it waits ahead.
A Taste of Comfort
After settling in, I headed out for lunch. The nearby food stalls were buzzing with life. I ordered a noodle dish that arrived looking quite different from what I expected. At first, I thought the noodles hadn’t come. But inside the bowl was a wide sheet of dough, hidden under a smooth, savory sauce. It tasted like a mild, comforting stew—unexpected but delicious. Again, just 40 baht.
Later, I wandered through the noisy main street until I stumbled across something unusual: a stylish café. Its sign, its design, its open terrace—it all stood out in this small town.
The owner, Pui, welcomed me. Though our words didn’t match, somehow we understood each other. He loved coffee deeply, he said, and had invested in quality equipment to build this place. He also worked as a digital creator, editing videos and designing interiors. His café reflected that creativity—every corner, every bean, carefully chosen. Brazil, Ecuador, so many details carried his passion.
I didn’t order coffee this time, but his spirit was clear. Even without fluent English between us, the exchange felt warm, human, and memorable.
Walking to Discover
The day was short, the distance small, but what I found reminded me of something important: sometimes you must step off the bike and simply walk. A short stroll can open a new world—a hidden café, a kind owner, a taste you didn’t expect.
Travel is not only about how far you go, but about how closely you notice. Today, with its quiet kindness, delicious surprises, and unexpected meetings, was proof of that truth.
