In April of 2023 I was hiking in Nepal but found myself with a case of pneumonia and a case of the blues. It’s a beautiful country but I wanted some tropical air to clear my lungs and some tropical heat to clear my spirits. Being too sick to hike, and not in the mood for frozen squat toilets — the standard along most hiking trails — I booked a flight to Thailand with the goal of alternating between scuba diving and reading on the beach.
When I arrived in Bangkok, Natalie, a backpacker I had met in Kathmandu, invited me to meet her in the north of Thailand for a self-guided motorcycle trip with two other friends she made at the hostel. A “yes” felt foolish but a “no” felt like a missed opportunity. I hopped a 14-hour overnight train to Chiang Mai, but due to language errors, I booked one without air-conditioning and that afternoon it was 40 C outside. I arrived at 5 a.m. dizzy and dehydrated and stumbled to the first open restaurant and ordered several drinks. I sat until the sun came up and I started to feel human again.
I checked into a hostel and Natalie introduced me to the other members of the group: Courtney, a sweet woman from Chicago, and William, a Swedish man who had been living in Australia for the last few years. I was relieved that there would be no language barriers
