Now, with the new passport finally in hand and a somewhat formed plan beginning to take shape, it was time to head back to Samui.  Bangkok just wasn’t working out.  Staying in the center near Khaosan Road had its perks, don’t get me wrong.  But the next few days in Bangkok could easily fill 100 pages to explain why it wasn’t clicking.  I’ll spare you the details.  Let’s just say it had something to do with the kind of social fragmentation that makes you question why you even showed up.

I went to a meetup — a social event, supposedly — where people huddled in their cliques, talking only to those they already knew. I ended up chilling by the pool on a beach chair, when another guy sat down nearby and said to me “These people are awfully cliquey, aren’t they? Why go to a meetup if you're only going to hang out with your friends?”

I replied, “I was going to say the same thing, but you beat me to it.”

He shrugged, “I’m not in the mood for socializing anyway.”

So we just sat in silence for a while — which, strangely enough, was the most authentic interaction I’d had all evening.

I left not long after, but not before a drag queen noticed my Buri Ram T-shirt and told me he/she was from there.  Cool, I guess.  Whatever, bro.

To be fair, the hotel was an awesome deal — Prince Palace for $40 a night, with large rooms, a quiet atmosphere, and free breakfast every morning.  For Bangkok, that’s rare air.

Later that night, I ended up at a comedy show.  Or rather, I got pulled into one off the street. Naturally, I was the only one there solo.  A group of Russians had taken seats near the front, chatting among themselves in their language, though the comedians must have missed it.

When the comic asked, “Where are you guys from?” and they replied, “Russia,” he stepped back dramatically on stage and said, “Woah, didn’t see that one coming.”  That got a good laugh.

Then, of course, his attention turned to me. “Anyone here traveling alone?” he asked. I raised my hand.

“Ah, you solo travelers — always up to no good, huh?” he joked, and I had to laugh.

He kept riffing on it — implying I was out here “visiting temples,” with just enough side-eye to let everyone read between the lines. Yeah, sure. Temples. Right.  But there was truth buried in the jokes — about freedom, loneliness, and the ambiguous paths solo travelers walk. At least I could come and go as I pleased.

And so, in the spirit of fulfilling the joke, after the show I wandered to the far end of Khaosan Road and got myself a “massage” — one of those places where the services come with a few… extras.

The next day was such a flop I don’t even want to get into the details. But one thing became absolutely clear: no more Bangkok.

This city had changed — and not for the better.  Or maybe I had changed. Maybe it was my nervous system, flat-out rejecting city life, possibly for good.  It started to make sense in hindsight. Maybe Shanghai had burned me out so deeply, so thoroughly over two decades, that trying to live or even function in *any* urban environment now just wasn’t feasible anymore.

The noise, the chaos, the sensory overload, the constant confusion — and worst of all, the pretentiousness of the people who live there, especially the expats (who somehow always manage to be the worst) — it all made the experience not just uncomfortable, but unbearable.

So yeah, it was pretty much a no-brainer at that point:  I’d stay two more nights at the Sananwan Guesthouse on the outskirts of Bangkok, reassemble all my stuff, and make plans to fly back to Koh Samui.  And of course, Texas Mack was still there — the ever-reliable presence in paradise. Somehow, he always managed to find me, even when I didn’t say a word about showing up. Definitely an ex-military trait if I’ve ever seen one.

We had some more great conversations — chill, easy, and insightful as always.  And naturally, I told him I’d be heading back to Samui again.  He just shook his head and said, “Jesus, what’s with you popping in and out like this is some covert espionage operation?”

Let’s just stop and look at the arc for a second.

1. I entered Thailand sometime after Songkran

2. Rode the bike from Narathiwat to Koh Samui in late April. Left the Tern bike with Rob when my passport needed renewing.

3. From there: boats and minivans to Surat Thani → flight to Bangkok → passport submitted → brief Sananwan stop.

4. Didn’t want to stick around Bangkok (for reasons already made clear), so I went back to Samui → then popped over to Koh Phangan on the way.

5. Then back again to Surat Thani — this time to pick up my wife → spent a week together in Samui.

6. After she left, I returned to Phangan → then Bangkok again to finally pick up the passport.

7. And now? Flying back once more to Samui — to retrieve the bike I left behind nearly a month earlier.

Yeah… pretty crazy when you lay it all out like that. A full-circle loop with extra loops inside it. But hey — at least now I can fly again.