After a week of family reuniting and no productivity in Singapore, it feels good to be back in the notepad.
HAHA! DJ Quik's Get Down starts my flight to Bangkok. I don't normally listen to music when I'm traveling to a new place alone so I can soak in the atmosphere. The plane was relatively empty, the passengers next to me moved because they had a baby and needed more space. The end result was that I didn't have anyone to talk to and scored a whole row for myself.
An hour later, we go through a period of intense turbulence.
The plane drops and your stomach lurches forward with it, until it picks you back up to throw you down.
It's a funny thing, flying 30,000m above ground and not sure if you're going to make it through the flight. I used to be scared of my plane crashing, but I'm at peace with the possibility now. It's not like I want to die. In fact, I'm quite the opposite, because let's be honest, I have an extremely blessed life and would love to live until I'm 100 and still kicking.
I feel like I'm living my life to its utmost and if God calls, it's not really controllable on my part. I know that my mom, Teresa and Neil know I love them deeply from the bottom of my heart. Traveling so often has it's risks, but I don't think they're very high. Car accidents are more frequent, aren't they?
Anyways. When I was a kid, I used to be scared of roller coasters. My remedy was a bit different. I would pop in my earphones and play one song on repeat: Empire by the Black Eyed Peas. This was the case at Universal Studios, Disneyland, Six Flags, and Disneyworld all through high school. I would get so hyped up that I would ride the coaster's momentum up, down, and through the whole song, rushing any adrenaline through my entire body as if it was a race course.
It's easy to get scared of the unknown, but that's what makes life so freaking great, isn't it? Taking that fear and absolutely seizing it tight in your hands, while still apprehensive about what's about to happen.
The plane calms down and I look out the window to see a bright blue and clear landscape. Storms are great, and they're also temporary.
See? All good.
No visa required for Canadians, fast immigration process, cute little red and black tokens for the Skytrain. Keep it coming!
I get to my guesthouse at 1:30pm, just an hour after landing. Starving, I go look for food. The transit system here is extremely easy to use; there are 3 different lines I had to take though to get to my place, but all of them were connected. I grab Pad Thai by my place before heading in. The room is the size of my closet at home.
I love it.
Truth be told, today is the day of the whole trip I was looking forward to the most. Why? It's the first day I'm completely alone: no tour group, no family, different language, and a different environment.
After doing 5 minutes of research (how to get there), I leave my room and head off to Chatuchak Market.
It's absolute MADNESS. With 8,000 stalls, 31 acres of stuff to buy, and an infinite overload of sensory input, I last 5 hours before calling it quits and heading to the Victory Monument.
The next day, I head to the Grand Palace, Wat Arun and stroll along the River and in between market stalls along random narrow streets.
Then, I had found it.
The holy grail of Thai food.
I stumbled into a restaurant on the road for no other reason than the fact that it was air conditioned. Feeling like soup, I found a set meal with hot and sour soup, iced lemon tea, and fried rice.
The soup came first and I started to dig in immediately. It was mind-blowing.
To my chagrin, the waitress scolded me and waved her hands; she made it clear I should wait for the rice. Confused I agreed and put my spoon down, starving.
She arrived 5 minutes later with the rice, and then everything in the world made sense.
When I put the first spoon of rice into my mouth, angels sang from the kitchen. The flavor was incomparable. The green chillis in the soup were sliced down the center to kickstart the party. The Hot-and-Sour from the soup united with the Salty from the rice, and had a baby with the Sweet iced tea.
The prawns tango'd with the chicken while cilantro cleared the air. Three types of mushrooms in the soup chased each other across my palate, making waves of 'Close your eyes and savor it as long as you freaking can because these moments in food don't come often' stimulus. God had blessed this meal from heaven itself. The taste from the iced tea was inexplicable, it couldn't be just lemon. Maybe if lemon met crack cocaine and came from the overflowing crystal clear waterfalls on a magical mountain in Myanmar, far, far away. To finish the meal this way was...perfect.
It was absolutely unforgettable.
Best. Meal. Ever.
A blog on my continuing journey through life, covering self-development and success strategies, but also personal reflection.