On the other hand, you have different fingers. ((Jack Handey))

It’s overcast. With rainy season behind us, clouds have become an uncommon sight in Bangkok. Life seems to slow down in these moments. Perhaps it’s my complete lack of sleep, but the candy-colored taxis appear to be moving slower and the traffic almost gives the impression of order. The coffee shop is busy and the espresso machine is working itself in circles. With the lack of sun, comes the need for more caffeine, but even the venti isn’t working today.

I look around and besides the fact that I am surrounded by Thai’s, I feel like I could be in any major city in the world. Traffic and Starbucks, two things almost all major cities claim these days. And if it isn’t Starbucks, it’s some other coffee shop, where the smell of burnt toast and ground coffee beans dance in your nostrils. I used to feel pangs of guilt when I walked into a Starbucks in another country, almost like I was cheating on my current city and its rich culture, but in Bangkok, where coffee shops are a rare sight and Starbucks line every city corner, I am left with no choice. Besides, a taste of familiar every once and awhile is a balance I need.

The palm trees lining the street remind me of the temperature outside, yet my computer reads November. Coming from and always living in places that have four distinct seasons, I can’t wrap my head around how summer has lasted so long here. It will be this hot tomorrow and the next day and the next, yet there are plastic Christmas trees popping up in front of malls and winter clothes are coming out in the stores. Yesterday I saw a mannequin bundled in a thick coat, scarf and hat. Zara is stocked with heavy sweaters, tall leather boots and down coats.

We are living in the world’s hottest city.

Even in mid-November, the heat, coupled with the heavy humidity, makes your clothes cling to your dampened chest, milliseconds after stepping out of an air-conditioned room.

A thick coat of gloom hangs over the city, it’s only reprieve being it’s Friday. It feels like a good night to find a new spot, a underground jazz club, with deep maroon velvet couches and thick air, where the strangers faces are blurred from the lack of light. I’m convinced, like Starbucks, most major cities have a place like this. With my familiar quotient filled, I am prepared for the novel.

On a final note, recalling a conversation with a friend in the States last week, we spoke of doing things on your own. Moving many places on my own, not knowing anyone upon arrival, I have become a master of doing things solo. In fact, I enjoy a day to myself and I still find myself wandering the city alone, even though I have made quite close friends here. However, going on vacation alone is a first for me. This means a lot of alone time.

Next week I am off to Vietnam, alone.

Fortunately, I have always had friends scattered in every corner of this small planet and Vietnam is no exception. Wednesday I touch down in Ho Chi Minh City, also known as Saigon, for two days, where I will see Mike Kane, someone I spent many a days in diapers with and have not seen in years, and then I will continue on to Nha Trang, Vietnam’s most popular beach and “the” diving spot of Vietnam. It’s there that I will see two friends I have made in my travels, a Dutchman and a Brit. We will reconnect again in Ho Chi Minh City and continue on to Bangkok together. So while not really alone, we’ll see how well we connect with no phones and just the promise of dates and hotel names.

Always ready for an adventure, I will have my moleskin close by my side.

And with that, the sun is peaking it’s head out and I am almost finished with my coffee, my brain is slowly waking up and the prospect of NEW is getting me out of this seat and pushing me back into the world.

Until next time, go do something new. Shake things up a bit and never feel guilty about a little alone time, it keeps us fresh and makes us more pleasant.

Photo compliments of the one and only, Rick Ashley.

ABA