Everybody's got their own crazy Thailand story and every one of those people would probably try to one up the other, telling them theirs is the craziest. Just google "crazy Thailand stories" and with a few clicks, you'll end up reading about the Full Moon parties, drug dealing tuk-tuk drivers, and the classic getting-hit-in-the-face-with-a-live-goldfish-shot-out-of-a-stripper's-vagina. But I'm not here to do that.
Sure, I have a few stories - like the one where I saw the best twerk show of my life, or that one time an angry Thai man shouted at me from across this field for whatever reason, or that one night my friend and I were about to enter this shady disco bar (...) - stories I would never tell my grandchildren about. [But nothing too extreme to worry my mom about.]
I'm here to tell you about my first real, independent travel.
8 days. We were only there for 8 days... and it's already one of the best trips I've ever had (even though the gods of Thailand did not like me at all).
You see, I wasn't even gone that long. But when you're away from all sorts of responsibilities for a week, you start to get comfortable being amidst people who can't speak your language. You start to get comfortable living off your suitcase and running out of clean clothes to wear. You start to get comfortable being away from everything that screams "home." It's exciting, fun, and new every time. You go to sleep at night, thinking of what could possibly happen the next day. Your mind wanders but nothing prepares you for the madness that's about to happen.
Sure, I have a few stories - like the one where I saw the best twerk show of my life, or that one time an angry Thai man shouted at me from across this field for whatever reason, or that one night my friend and I were about to enter this shady disco bar (...) - stories I would never tell my grandchildren about. [But nothing too extreme to worry my mom about.]
I'm here to tell you about my first real, independent travel.
8 days. We were only there for 8 days... and it's already one of the best trips I've ever had (even though the gods of Thailand did not like me at all).
You see, I wasn't even gone that long. But when you're away from all sorts of responsibilities for a week, you start to get comfortable being amidst people who can't speak your language. You start to get comfortable living off your suitcase and running out of clean clothes to wear. You start to get comfortable being away from everything that screams "home." It's exciting, fun, and new every time. You go to sleep at night, thinking of what could possibly happen the next day. Your mind wanders but nothing prepares you for the madness that's about to happen.
And then it just hits you one night, it's your last day and home doesn't sound so appealing at all. Even though you've started longing for your bed at home, you still wouldn't mind sleeping at a couple more hotel beds. You've just gotten into the pace of traveling from one place to another and stopping feels like the worst idea ever. Because even though there were some downs, the ups were some of the best ones anyone could ever imagine.
