For those of you that follow this blog chronologically, you’ll notice an aberration in the sequence. The last post was from July 2016, while today I write from the present, January of 2017. There is certainly more to tell from 2016, but that will have to wait for some time in the future. For now, the present begs for attention.
As preface: in the early fall, Jenn and I had tossed around the idea of taking a big trip in January. Without a particular destination in mind, we aimlessly researched, looking wistfully at photos of wonderful, unattainable destinations.
We talked about going to Southeast Asia. We saw ticket prices to Southeast Asia. We bought tickets to Southeast Asia.
They were cheap. Very cheap. That part of the world is a budget-traveler’s dream, with cheap accommodations and well-traveled paths for young backpackers.
We settled on an arbitrary 10 weeks to travel. Neither of us had employment that was calling us back, but to go longer felt like it would be pushing the limit of some imaginary boundary.
Planning and preparation flew by with the pleasant air of purpose. December started, the holidays stamped the weeks out in that same sort of time-warp/limbo that they always inhabit, and January was upon us.
January 8th, we departed from JFK. 24 hours later, we landed in Bangkok on January 12th (time differences will never make sense to me as I travel through them). And this is where the next chapter begins.