A Farewell to Bangkok and the Road Ahead
October 19. From my guesthouse in Bangkok, I began the day with a quiet thought: today is the day I leave. After days of preparation, it was finally time to move on.
I gathered my belongings carefully, making sure everything I carried truly had meaning for the journey ahead. There was one decision I had made in advance: I would give up my trailer.
The trailer had accompanied me so far, but in the end, it drew too much attention without offering any real benefit. My purpose in this journey is to write a book, and the trailer was not essential to that goal. I discarded used tubes and worn-out tires, letting go of unnecessary weight. The trailer itself could not yet be left behind, but the choice to part with it had already been made.
One Last Meal in Bangkok
Before setting out, I stopped by the small restaurant I had often visited. Their basil pork rice had become a favorite, and on this final morning in the city, it tasted even better.
I whispered a quiet thank you in my heart—for the meals, for the routine, for the comfort it gave me during my stay. Then, with my stomach full and my spirits steady, I began the real departure.
Leaving the City
The sky was gray, clouds moving restlessly above. I pedaled forward anyway, determined to push on.
Not long after, I noticed someone ahead of me, stopping to take photos. We exchanged smiles and even took a picture together. These small encounters along the road remind me how travel is never just about places—it’s about people.
Getting out of Bangkok was difficult. The traffic, the constant stops, the sheer noise of the city—it all wore me down. But once beyond it, the road stretched straight ahead, wide and steady. From there, there was nothing to fear.
Thailand seemed to be under constant construction, with massive roadworks everywhere. I couldn’t help but imagine what the country would look like ten years from now—perhaps unrecognizable, transformed beyond belief.
The Midday Meal
Hunger struck, and I stopped for lunch. There was no menu this time. I simply asked the vendor to bring me something, and soon a dish arrived: chicken served over rice, steaming and simple.
In Thailand, menus are sometimes absent, especially at roadside stalls. It can be intimidating, not knowing what you’ll get. But these moments also bring surprise, and that unpredictability is part of the adventure.
Struggling Through
As the day went on, the traffic grew heavier, but it was never as chaotic as in Vietnam. Cars and motorbikes flowed, but at a pace I could handle. I kept moving forward, steady, trusting that if I rode with confidence, nothing would harm me.
But then, my body began to betray me.
My face felt pale, my energy drained. Fever had taken hold. Even though I had planned to eat, I found I couldn’t touch anything. My appetite had vanished completely.
Still, I forced myself to keep going. Each turn of the pedals felt heavier than the last.
Reaching the Guesthouse
One more hour. That was all that stood between me and rest. I tried to smile, to lift my spirits, but my body refused. The effort of holding a grin felt impossible.
Finally, I arrived.
Outside the guesthouse, rows of bicycles stood neatly together. They looked proud, as if greeting me. I felt the same pride—we made it. Both my bike and I had given everything.
Inside, the bed was clean, soft, and welcoming. Just seeing it gave me a sense of relief, and I felt my strength return, even if only by a single percent.
Evening in the Market
Later, I forced myself out again, searching for dinner at the nearby street market. Stalls lined the road, each offering something different. The air was filled with smells—savory, sweet, smoky.
But my energy was gone. I grabbed food quickly and returned, unable to linger.
One item stood out: a waffle-like pastry, sweet and soft, but filled with corn. I couldn’t understand it. Why mix sweetness with corn? It puzzled me, but it also fascinated me.
Even in weakness, I found myself curious about the unfamiliar. Travel constantly offers these small mysteries—strange foods, surprising customs—that remind me how vast the world is.
That night, exhausted, I lay down with gratitude for making it through the day. It had been a hard one, but also full of lessons.
