The Man Who Cycled the World by Mark Beaumont

Author:Mark Beaumont [Beaumont, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-71666-8
Publisher: Crown/Archetype
Published: 2011-06-27T16:00:00+00:00

Leg 3: Bangkok to Singapore

13

It was a restless flight. Trying to put the pent-up stresses of Calcutta behind me, I dozed briefly. Another distraction was my neighbor. He was an older Indian gent, with excessive gold jewelery and a linen suit. Soon after takeoff, and without introductions, he launched into a monologue about how much he hated India, its crowds and its poverty. This seemed highly contentious and I couldn’t help but think him arrogant, with his Rolex flashing and his obvious Indian heritage. It turned out that he had been born in Delhi but now lived in Hong Kong, and that he was stinking rich, which was evident but he pointed it out a couple of times anyway. He had returned for the first time in years for a family occasion, which only reaffirmed his sentiments about the place. His off-by-heart speech did reflect some sad truths about India’s poverty levels and demographics, but considering he was part of the top percentile in terms of wealth yet found it easier not just to escape but to talk with contempt of his roots, I found it a gloomy affair. I couldn’t get much of a normal conversation going so gave up and tried to sleep.

I was the only non-Indian or non-Thai person I could see on the flight. After thousands of miles of self-propelled travel, the confines and speed of air travel seemed bizarre. The hostesses obliged me with a second meal but then apologized and declined when I asked for a third.

The plane landed as the first light crept over the horizon. Landing at this time is very special because you can see dawn from the air, and then you sink back into the night as the plane lands, only for the sun to catch up half an hour later. When I picked the bike off the carousel, it looked battered. Not having been able to reseal the box properly in Calcutta had left it with no structure, and bits of bike poked through on both sides. Hoping for the best, I pushed out of arrivals to be met by a friend of a friend’s wife, a Thai lady called Toi, and her driver.

I had been so stuck in the moment getting through India as fast as possible that I hadn’t really visualized Thailand, other than maybe landing at the airport. The changes were massive. Over the years I had always thought of my friends who backpacked in Southeast Asia as quite adventurous. It always sounded so exotic. However, while there are undoubtedly wild parts, this is defiantly still the developed world. The roads were superb and full of pickups, there was a 7-Eleven on every corner, and you could buy most of the familiar brands you would at your local shops. Thailand is incredibly Americanized, and coming out of the wilds of Iran, Pakistan, and India made this even more evident. I was constantly surprised by the feeling of being back in the Western world for the first time in months.

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