Memories

Memories

The heat hit me like a soft slap in the face the moment I stepped off the plane. No air conditioning could compete with that. The air was thick with humidity, exhaust fumes, and a cacophony of sounds that was already there, waiting. I was on my way around the world, it was the very early 1980s. Thailand hadn’t been on my list, I associated it too much with the fading hippie era, but it was the cheapest flight out of Hong Kong, so there I was. The old airport, still lay far outside the city, surrounded by rice fields. Bangkok wasn’t the metropolis it is today. No endless skyline of glass and steel, but a city of low-rise buildings, wooden houses on stilts, and temples that appeared unexpectedly between the traffic. The Chao Phraya River was its artery, brown and slow-moving, filled with longtail boats that roared through the water, leaving trails of smoke as they made their way to rickety piers. On the streets: chaos. Buses, lots of buses, tuk-tuks, even more tuk-tuks, street vendors everywhere, and even more food stalls. It never seemed to stop. Bangkok at night was a different world. Neon lights were beginning to claim their place, but it wasn’t yet a sea of light. In Patpong, soldiers on leave, backpackers, and local night owls mixed in an atmosphere that was both innocent and raw. Though topless serving and dancing had already become the norm. But after just one evening, after seven months of traveling, I felt an overwhelming need for palm trees. No more city, just sea and shade. There was a rumor about a paradise called Ko Samet. Four hours from Bangkok, they said. And the paradise turned out to be real. It’s almost impossible to imagine now, but it truly existed. A handful of bungalows around a small bay, palm trees swaying lazily in the breeze, and a restaurant where a beautiful woman cooked as if she wanted you never to leave. Every week I told myself I would move on. Every week I stayed. Three months later, I figured it was time to see the rest of Thailand. But by then it was already too late. I was hooked. Now, forty-five years later, I’m going back. Perhaps to say goodbye, though you never really know with places like that. I won’t say how many times I’ve been there since. There are still a few places I’ve never seen, or not seen enough. This time I’ll skip Ko Samet. Somporn now lives on the mainland, and all the palm trees are gone. Some paradises exist only in your memory and maybe that’s how it should be. It will be a short visit to Thailand. After that, there are still a few blank spots waiting for me in Malaysia.