The desire to travel is often born from dreams of destination: Taj Mahal, Pyramids of Giza, Great Wall of China, Lake Baikal, Angkor Wat, Luang Prabang, Grand Canyon. The destination will give us joy, and knowledge, but when the journey is subordinate to the destination, should we really call it travel?
I don’t know the answer, and I’m not even sure that my question is a legitimate one. But as I rode away from home in 2008, it was the draw of destinations that had driven me forwards. Following the lines of least resistance that I’d drawn on my map, I’d travelled from Destination A to Destination B and onwards.
Yet, as I’d begun ticking those boxes on my list, I’d realised that despite the majority of my photographs being of wonderful destinations, I’d had my most memorable experiences in the spaces in between them. And more importantly, form the random people I’d encountered along the way.
I’m now based in the outer suburbs of Bangkok, and the urge to travel remains strong. But nowadays, I prefer to micro-travel, usually on foot or riding my amazingly slow scooter. The slower I travel, the less I miss, and the more I seem to learn.
I live in a small one-room apartment beside Klong Prem Prachakon (Klong = Canal) , and although I originally moved her because of the price, I remain here because of the people. You won’t find many Europeans in this area of Bangkok, and many of the locals honestly don’t know what to make of me. But in my experience, that’s actually a good thing.
As I rode around the world on an unreasonably large and fast motorcycle, I passed fleetingly through the lives of other people. But now that I’ve slowed down the pace, I’ve opened the doors and allowed people to begin passing through my life. We linger a little longer together. We get to know each other and learn a little more of each other’s lives.
Many would-be travellers are possibly deterred by language barriers, but that should never be the case. A conversation with a stranger, where you’re both fluent in entirely different languages, simply takes a little more time. And when you stop and give people time, the rewards can be amazing.
Here along the edges of Klong Prem Prachakon, the people lead difficult and often uncertain lives. Many of their homes have been built on land belonging to other people, or more likely the government, and despite the fact that most of these families have lived here for decades, they could be evicted from their homes at any time. As land values increase and new buildings rise on the tiniest of footprints, for many it’s a question of 'when' and not 'if', the land beneath their homes will be reclaimed and taken from them.
Some have regular jobs here in markets, offices and factories, but many scrape a living doing whatever they can. Often that means gathering and selling recyclables, which with the exponential increase in packaged goods here, appears to be a growing business. Others will work long and dangerous hours as motorcycle taxi riders, and others will enter Wat Lak Si as monks. (Wat = Temple)
I think what I’m really trying to say is this. When we travel, we shouldn’t be afraid to slow down and talk to people. Destinations are amazing, but please don’t ignore the spaces in between them ....... and always try to leave more smiles than miles behind you.
Thanks for reading along.
Riding and smiling as always …. Geoff
