Morning in Bangkok
October 8, 6:00 a.m., greetings once again from Long Luck Guesthouse in Bangkok. Today’s schedule was tightly packed, so I woke up earlier than usual to make sure I had enough time.
My first stop was the familiar breakfast stall. This morning, I ordered Pad Ka Prao for 50 baht (about 220 yen). Since the menu is written entirely in Thai, I can never read what’s written—it has become a kind of morning lottery. Each day, I order without knowing exactly what will come out. I even made a personal rule: if the dish turns out delicious, I declare that the entire day will be excellent. In reality, everything I’ve eaten has been delicious, so every morning begins with the feeling that my fortune is already the best it could be.
After breakfast, it was time to head for my second round of vaccinations.
Vaccinations at Snake Farm
Since time was short, I took a Grab for a quick ride. Still, there was a part of me that longed for the open air of a tuk-tuk—the feeling of the morning breeze while the sun slowly rises is unbeatable.
Within five minutes, I arrived at the well-known Snake Farm. One week had already passed since my first shots. Time flies unbelievably fast. This time, I noticed signs I hadn’t paid attention to before, reminding visitors of the purpose of the center.
The process was quick, finished in less than an hour. I received three shots: rabies (second dose), typhoid, and Japanese encephalitis. I had been confident, remembering how smooth the first session had been. But this time, the Japanese encephalitis vaccine made me feel a dull ache spreading slowly in my arm.
Physically, I was fine overall, but my right arm felt strangely heavy. Somehow, that discomfort reassured me—it meant the vaccine was truly working.
Farewell to the Guesthouse
On my way back, I stopped by a 7-Eleven and learned something new: alcohol sales are restricted to certain hours in Thailand. Small discoveries like this remind me how much there is to learn, even about daily life here.
Today was also the day I had to check out of the guesthouse. I began cleaning the room, blasting Avicii’s Wake Me Up on repeat to give myself energy. With music pushing me forward, I organized my belongings.
It was a bittersweet moment—saying goodbye to a place that had been my temporary home. But it wasn’t a complete farewell. The staff kindly allowed me to leave my luggage, bicycle, and trailer there. I whispered in my mind, “Wait for me just a little while longer, my companions.”
Working from a Café
Because the vaccinations ended quickly, I had extra time. I walked to my regular café to focus on work. Carrying only a backpack felt unusual—it had been years since I last traveled this way. The simplicity of it stirred a little nostalgia, making me wonder if I might try a backpacking journey again someday.
At the café, I pulled out my MacBook, decorated with anime stickers. This always sparks conversations with Western travelers. Once again, someone asked about the characters, and I was reminded of how globally popular Japanese animation has become.
I settled into six hours of solid work, completely absorbed until evening came.
Journey to the Airport
When work was done, I set out for the bus stop. The question naturally arises: why the airport? Was I catching a flight? The answer was no. I was going there to welcome a new travel companion.
Through social media, I had connected with a traveler from overseas—a woman who loved adventure and expressed her wish: “I want to travel together.” That simple phrase resonated deeply. Only a month earlier, I had shared a journey with a Japanese university student from Ho Chi Minh to Phnom Penh. And now, another companion was about to join, but this time the circumstances felt different.
Being a foreign traveler, she would face strict immigration checks. Being a woman, safety and planning carried additional weight. This made the journey more complex, but also more meaningful. Opportunities like this do not happen often. I felt grateful for this connection, determined to treasure it.
Struggles on the Road
The bus, however, tested my patience. No matter how long I waited, it didn’t come. Her flight was arriving late at night, so there was no real danger of missing her, but the ingrained Japanese habit of “being on time” made me restless. Waiting reminded me strongly of where I grew up.
Eventually, I moved to a different stop and, finally, a bus arrived. I paid my fare, received a small ticket, and sat down. Yet the Bangkok traffic was unforgiving. At 5 p.m., the roads were in peak congestion. After crawling along for too long, I decided to get off and walk part of the way. To my surprise, the time difference between walking and riding was almost the same.
Along the way, hunger struck. I bought grilled chicken with rice for 30 baht (about 132 yen). Simple street food always gives strength when traveling.
After another transfer, I was back on a bus. This time, things went more smoothly, and by around 8 p.m.—three hours after departure—I finally arrived near the airport. It had only been about 20 kilometers, but it felt like a long journey.
Still, the night view of Bangkok’s glowing skyline made the struggle worthwhile.
Arrival at the Airport
Before entering the airport, I checked into a nearby hotel and grabbed dinner: rice and soup from a street stall for 60 baht (about 264 yen). The portions were generous, proving once again how affordable local food can be.
Finally, I reached the international arrivals exit. The airport was surprisingly easy to navigate compared to other large international hubs, where domestic and international sections are often spread far apart.
After a short wait, she appeared. We met at last. I forgot to take a photo, but the moment itself was unforgettable. Relief and joy washed over me—we were about to start a journey together.
The days ahead will be busy. We need to find her a bicycle, gather camping equipment, and prepare for the road. But for now, I am simply grateful. A farewell to solo travel, and a welcome to shared adventures.
