The Love Stories We Cannot Tell
A question to ask at your relationship’s hardest hour.
They say you meet your karma in India.
It’s 2017. The year is shutting down for good. I’m back in New York for the holidays watching Anthony Bourdain eat food in Myanmar on the teli, when all things Asia start to consume me. I watch no further.
Thailand and Vietnam are romancing my brain on the daily, a visa for Myanmar has already been served. I want to dive into the food culture and explore the eastern way of life. Yet there’s something more to the energy moving through my bones besides my eternal burn for food and travel. I can’t put my finger on it so I get myself a plane ticket.
Thailand is my first stop.
A vibrant, bustling city in the north, culturally rich even if a tad too digital nomad-y, I’m in Chiang Mai with a friend who has joined the first leg of my trip. We’re cruising down streets being dusted by monks, desolate alleys with monkeys running wild, in cute cafes with mountains hovering near, eating killer food surrounded by humans with smiles as bright as the sun near shops with temples in the rear. The urge to drop everything and live there indefinitely arises fast. Chiang Mai is a massive breath of fresh air. We both have other bridges to cross first though.
