Travelling “alone” for the first time

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So there I was, at age 51, travelling “alone” for the first time, on my very first overseas trip.

It seemed weird at Melbourne airport, me in my shorts, t-shirt and small backpack being farewelled by my son (who was heading off to Turkey for some sort of solar eclipse party just a few days later; he didn’t know it then but a few days later he would be interrogated and strip-searched in Dubai - I blame the dreadlocks). I flew Thai Airways, leaving Melbourne at 1.15am. Arrived in Thailand at 6.30am local time and was immediately disoriented by the heat, the smell (not really bad, just different), the traffic etc. I made my way to the starting point hotel, the Viengtai, just around the corner from Khao San Road. It wasn’t the sort of place I would have picked from a brochure but it was clean and comfortable and I’d certainly stay there again. As I wandered along Khao San Road, I felt a bit like an older version of Leonardo Di Caprio at the start of the movie “The Beach”, and I wondered if I too would be offered a drink of snake’s blood. I wasn’t, but I was approached by an Indian fortune teller.

I was prepared for a rip off and politely dismissed his initial attempts, but then he said something that stopped me in my tracks. He said he“knew” something very bad had happened in my life in the last 12 months (are all older solo travellers widowers?). I got a bit uneasy when he led me down a winding laneway before telling me to put some money is his little book. I gave him 100 baht. He kept on about all the things he was going to tell me but when he told me to give him $300 Australian dollars; I thought it was time to leave and I beat a hasty retreat, not looking back, or putting my boots back on, until I was safely back out in Khao San Road. So it only cost me 100 baht, and it was an experience. I was already enjoying myself so much that nothing could spoil this trip.

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