The last entry about my trip to the south will be on what happened to me at the very beginning of my travels. Well, nothing much happened, but it still sparked some thoughts that I can now share with you. If I was sharing my stories of almost dying of cardio in Laos, I think I can blog about anything. I have freed myself, my friends.

There was a small series of hitchhiking, a sawng-taeo, and a tuk-tuk involved for me to reach the Chiang Mai airport. However, the first real part, as I’ll call it, of my trip began on a plane. Chiang Mai – Bangkok, Bangkok – Phuket, and then a ferry ride from Phuket to Koh Phi Phi, of which I’ve written before. As some proper bourgeoisie, I indeed flew from Chiang Mai to Phuket. My excuse – being too afraid to get stuck on the way somewhere (due to the floods or some accidents) and spend half of my Christmas break on a bus that isn’t even moving. Since I almost cried while booking those tickets (“Why, God, why? Why are these tickets quadruple the price of a bus trip???”), I travelled back from Phuket to Chiang Mai on buses only. But so to that paradise land I flew.

I was in fact on my second flight, Bangkok to Phuket, when the plane experienced small-scale turbulence. It wasn’t anything concerning and it only lasted for less than half a minute, yet during that time my brain quickly produced two streams of comments.

The first one was rather nice. Apart from the obviously saddening facts that I don’t want to die and that none of my friends want me to die, too (I will allow myself to make such an assumption…), I have led a pretty good life. There are many countries awaiting to be visited, people to be met, blog entries to be posted, definitely, but what I’ve done during those more than twenty years of my life has been all good. Apart from some occasional blackouts which I wish I could remember, I don’t have that many regrets. There are many plans and vague ideas for the future but the past itself is fine, really. “If this turbulence becomes stronger and the plane crashes, that is the idea that I should stick to”, I thought to myself.

The second stream of commentaries that immediately followed the first one was this:

“Seriously? Now? On my way to this awesome island? Couldn’t I at last die in a horrible bus accident on my way home? C’mon!”

Don’t get me wrong, these rather chill thoughts were only a result of that turbulence being very soft. Certainly, if it had been proper turbulence affecting the plane, I bet I would be crying my eyes out, turning back to Catholicism which I like to make fun of now, and all those stereotypical “be calm, be calm” thoughts would be hysterically stirred by a panic attack. I think at that point nothing I wrote two paragraphs ago would help. And, when I think about it, such panic would only once again indicate that I don’t want to leave a life that has been alright so far.

During those seconds of turbulence I smiled with a creepy, wicked smile (that I hoped none of the passengers noticed and called for security), and, precisely because the shaking wasn’t strong enough to make me panic, I decided to have some fun. I set the volume level of my mp3 player to its max and put this song on: