When you are travelling in a country you will encounter all kinds of people and places. On one side, there are these humongous cities that have no limits, buildings that are sky high, food to satisfy your eclectic taste buds and traffic that makes you thank your stars you are not the one sitting the car honking away to glory but not moving an inch. On the other side you have villages that are so off the beaten path and serene that you don’t care if you have a single bar of signal on your phone.
In the past two months I have had the opportunity to enjoy both. Going from the big bad city of Bangkok which made “Hangover” happen once again to lazing on the bamboo raft for an entire day for less than 5 $ in that part of Thailand no one would have thought of. One day during this journey I have happened to listen to an interesting conversation at a hostel. A group of people are arguing about what is the best way to travel. Is it to touch and go all the cities and understand how the country is developing into something that the generation next can understand or to go and live the local style life at the rural villages and understand the culture of the previous generation.
Well, without a past you cannot have a future and without future your past is forgotten at best. I believe living the fast paced life is the best way to understand where the country is going, what its present generation is dreaming about and being able to soak in the rustic charm at the villages will help you understand where those dreams are coming from. I would like to end this post with a quote that basically sums up everything I want to say:
“Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It’s old television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It’s waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It’s churches that are compelling enough to enter. It’s McDonald’s being a luxury. It’s the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It’s the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of a bus with giggly strangers. It’s a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It’s the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It’s sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is “Maybe I don’t have to do it that way when I get back home.”