Slow Travel with Sofia

Slow Travel with Sofia

On contentment and long-term backpacking

Bangkok | Thailand

“While the scenery was rapidly changing, human nature remained the same, a bit stubborn perhaps, and wherever I went, there it was”

It had been two months since the beginning of my travels in Southeast Asia when I arrived at Bangkok. For the first time, I wasn't particularly motivated to embody the enthusiasm and curiosity of a backpacker and go exploring: I was tired and longing for plans that brought a sense of routine and familiarity. So, on the first few days, I simply walked to the nearest parks, read on local restaurants, went to the movies, and exercised in the rooftop of my hostel.

Inevitably, I also turned within to reflect on why my fulfilment and contentment weren't continuing to reach all-time highs, as I ingenuously expected to be the case throughout the trip. After all, many would like to embark on a similar journey yet can’t either because of money, commitments or emotional “preparedness”; so it was difficult not to be hard on myself thinking I was too privileged to be entitled to feel low.

Probably one evening, while overlooking the millions of white and yellow dots giving shape to the darkened skyscrapers, I concluded that regardless of all the blessings in one’s life, it's normal to have days we aren't quite feeling like our best selves and, in fact, we should compute such days in our travelling “expectations”. Ultimately, at home, it would be unrealistic to constantly be happy, energetic, resourceful, and excited for months on end. Surely, when abroad, the novelty of each day and place facilitates taping into these qualities, but in the long run they are bound to fade away, even if briefly. While my scenery was rapidly changing, human nature remained the same, a bit stubborn perhaps, and wherever I went, there it was! Or as a good friend once pointed, “wherever you go, there you are!”.

And there I was, in the capital of Thailand in April, the hottest month of the year. The 38 degrees felt several Celsius higher due to the humidity. My days, for the most part, started late in the afternoon, when the air was cooler and the motivation to seize the day kicked in. I searched what I could do during the peak of the heat, and museums, with a much-appreciated AC, were a good idea. This is how I found out about two local artists: Prateep Kochabua, a surrealist genius who defies the limits of human creativity and whose painting Churning of the Milk Ocean, a giant oil on canvas inspired in a bas-relief found in Angkor Wat (the largest religious compound in the world, located in Siem Riep, Cambodia), stood out in the gallery; and Apichart Pholprasert, who beautifies life in the big city through his art.

Aside from these occasional artistic escapades, I wondered around town and noticed, without surprise, this was the most developed capital I'd visited in Southeast Asia. There seemed to be more cars than motorbikes, tuk tuks or jeepneys in the traffic lanes; there was a public transportation system in place, leading to impressive avenues bordered by big shopping malls, over 6 floors, with gardens as rooftops; locals intertwined with foreigners in art galleries and restaurants, and their businesses were often separated from their homes.

Parallelly, very old buses competed with a state-of-the-art subway; glass and steel punctuated the skyline, giving the city a modern, fast developing image, yet potable water isn’t yet available, and the sewage system can't handle toilet paper; 7/11s are common but food markets continue to be preferred by locals, as grocery shopping proves to be more expensive than “take away”.

Bangkok may as well be described as a city of contrasts!

photo gallery

error: Content is protected !!