A long warm hug signalized the end of our trip.
"Cari... Cari... Cari..."
We were in Amsterdam just arrived from a 12 hour fright from Bangkok. I've left him go to catch his flight to Zurich while I've stood behind waiting for mine. Alone after more then 3 weeks. Both of us.
Bangkok was the last stop on our east asian tour. An american girl that we've meet on the way said that Bangkok is a dirty New York. And right she was.
A huge metropol covered with the suspended platforms that carry the skytrain, sky scrappers that multiply by night, people holding to themselves and tuktuk drivers that want to scam you. Huge day and night markets markets, street vendors, beggers, massage sallons, prostitues in dirty red bars, scattered lost tourists that stopped also one day just to do their final shopping. Would love to live in this city for a couple of years as an expat just to have the opportunity to thoughen a bit up and to discovered the pulsating life of this gigant city.
We stood in a low middle hotel in a kind of red district, we went to malls selling Armani more expensive than in Europe, been to an labyrintic market where we kind of ended up just buying a couple of Tshirts and we had a last dinner in a quiet westernized thay flavoured garden.
And the whole time we couldn't shake of the feeling that our trip is done and the gripping reality of our return. Both tired of bargaining at every step, of looking up different hotels and of dirty underware.
I decided that Im gonna write the storry of the asian tour backwards.
Maybe to hold a bit more on the
warmth of the hug.
end of part 1 of 9