This morning I woke up with memories of Thailand. There was something about the sound of the traffic in the air. As my mind drifted with the gentle noise, I remembered the whole of the journey, beginning in Bangkok, the day trip to the River Kwai, the overnight train to Chiang Mai, the hike into the mountains and visiting with hill tribes, the butterfly and orchid gardens, and finally Krabi and the islands. It was such a novel experience for me, my first solo trip, and it was around the world. It was an adventure. It was cathartic. I wrote copiously on that trip. I have a box of journals that one day I may mine for some nugget of a good story or maybe even compile and get published as a travel memoir. Writing was my primary interest in those days, not photography. I have a few photos in a scrapbook that were taken with little plastic disposable cameras. Mostly the pictures are in my head.
Journal Excerpt:
“On the sleeper train to Bangkok. I finished my book. I’m not sleepy. Being in upper bunk isn’t too bad. Can’t imagine getting down though. … Okay, it’s morning. I zonked! I know I snore, but nothing I can do about it. Can’t belive so many hours to go, just to return to Bangkok. … As I sit here watching the scenery go by, I am mesmerized by the almost ubiquitous sights of Thailand, birds, butterflies and temples. All three are like gems in a green land.”
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