Remembering Why I Love to Travel

After a few bouts of homesickness on the island, I had one of those moments that makes me remember why I love to travel. Upon boarding the ferry back to Surat Thani from Kho Phangan, we made a beeline for the VIP section on the top of the boat where, on the previous journey, travelers could pay 15 bhat to sit in air-conditioned comfort. Unfortunately, for this trip, no one remembered to turn on the a/c (or more likely it simply wasn’t functioning), but since the seats were demonstratively more comfortable, we stayed put. Or more realistically, I stayed put. My UK companions headed up on the deck after about 5 minutes. Having sat in the sun a bit too long the day before, I remained below.

After about 15 minutes, I was joined by Nick, an English bloke (practicing my British) who turned out to be an extremely enjoyable travel companion. For the next five hours (yes five hours), Nick and I wandered from our upper deck sauna, to the refreshing breeze and unrelenting sun of the top deck, down to the oppressive cave that was the lower deck cabin, talking about travel, books, religion, just how much hotter the boat could possibly get, and life in general. Near the end of the journey, we were joined by Adam, an American from Wisconsin living in China and we all did our best to forget the oppressive heat and enjoy the rest of the journey.

When we finally reached the pier, we parted ways, exchanging email addresses and a kiss on the cheek (ah, European men…) and headed to our respective buses. Nick and Adam were heading to the bus terminal and I, along with Lucy and Elenor, were headed back to Kho San Road (or so we thought). While everyone else could simply board a bus from the Pier, the three of us were told that we had to wait for a ride to the established departure point for the tour company we had booked through. Because there were only three of us, it was determined that it would not be worth commissioning another sangtheaw and we were ushered over to a truck filled to the seems with backpackers. The Thai drivers set about separating the backpackers from their backpacks, which went up on the roof (to many quizzical murmurings of “they are going to tie those on there, aren’t they?), which made enough room for Lucy and Elenor, leaving me and one other, left to stand on the back of the truck and hang on to the back. Since sangtheaws are simply basically miniature pick-up trucks (with two benches facing each other on each side and a metal covering) the step we shared was only about three inches from the ground. I commented to my fellow travelers, not to worry, that I could probably walk along side the truck at the speed it would take him to go in order to keep the 8+ bags, that now covered the roof, from falling off into the mud. It turns out that I underestimated Thai drivers and as well as the physics needed to keep all those packs on the roof.

As I hung on to my perch on the back of the truck, taking in the scenery of Thai back country, keeping an eye on the precariously placed luggage, I smiled to myself, thinking “this is why I travel. For the opportunity to make instant friends of strangers and to experience the sometimes seemingly boundless ingenuity of people in other countries from my envious spot on the back of a jam packed sangtheaw."