My first “big” solo trip was to Thailand in June 2016. I had a day layover in Dubai, and then was off to Bangkok. Despite the long travel, I arrived in Bangkok ready to take on the city. I headed to where I was staying, dropped off my things, and off I went. I had no idea which direction I was going in or what was around me, but I wanted to just take it all in and explore the streets. I ended up at a temple (very easy to do anywhere in Thailand) and learned a little about the history of Buddhism.
After leaving the temple, the hunger pains were getting real. I remembered the advice of all of my friends who had been to Bangkok; “Don’t be afraid to eat the street food.” I was in a more rural part of Bangkok so the streets weren’t necessarily lined with options, but when I passed a little alley, I saw a group of Thai men cooking. I thought “What the hell?” I asked if I could join. I sat awkwardly with this family (looking back, this wasn’t street food, more of an intrusion of me inviting myself to eat dinner with them) and enjoyed some delicious stews and curries. One was incredibly spicy, and he saw my eyes start to tear and poured me some water. This is when the advice also rang in from my friends: “DON’T DRINK THE WATER IN THAILAND.” I didn’t want to appear rude, and I also didn’t want to die, so I thought one or two sips couldn’t hurt.
Later that night, I met a UK couple and a few others, and we all went out to eat at the Condom Restaurant, and then for drinks.
The UK couple and I continued onto the red light district, playing pool, and having a grand old time. I only stuck to beer as, once again, advice from my friends rang in: “Don’t drink the liquor in Bangkok if you can’t see what they’re pouring.” It started downpour raining, so I ran back to my Airbnb, but first stopping at a 711 to get a fish sandwich.
The next morning I woke up and didn’t feel right in the least bit. I have had my fair share of hangovers in my day, and this is NOT what this was. I had never had a migraine in my life, but I knew I had one at this moment. It was 7am. My house guests were laughing “How’s the hangover?” I was like “This cannot be a hangover! I am dying,” and they continued to laugh. I legitimately thought I would never get over this feeling. My head was throbbing, my vision was spotty, and I was shaking from dehydration but couldn’t keep anything down. I attempted to sleep it off, but I woke up again at 10am and wasn’t even slightly better. I put my head back in the toilet and went back to sleep again. The anxiety of being sick (and not bringing Tylonel; lesson learned! Though I don’t think it would’ve helped much in this situation) started to really kick in. To make matters worse, I also got my period (and didn’t have tampons, which they do NOT sell in Thailand. Leave it to me to be ill-prepared). It was my last day in Bangkok and I didn’t want to waste it by lying helpless in bed, but I was physically incapable of getting up.
All I wanted to do, at any point during the day, was to make it to the Grand Temple. They closed at 4pm. I fell back asleep, woke up at 1pm, still feeling awful. Finally, at 2:30, I got up, attempted to eat some fruit (it came right back up), and forced myself to go out on the street. I went to 711, bought coconut water, actual water, and red bull. I drank two sips of the coconut water, and threw up on the street. But nothing was stopping me dammit!
I got in a taxi and said “to the grand temple please.” I caught a glimpse of my face in his mirror and was as pale as a ghost. I had the window down and for a moment felt like the fresh air (as fresh as Bangkok air can be) was somewhat helping. We chatted, he gave me the emergency number for Thailand incase anything was to happen to me, and told me about his family. As he was talking, I suddenly felt sick. His English wasn’t great. I said “I’m going to be sick,” and he said “Yeah!” because he clearly had no idea what I was saying. Once I motioned throwing up he said “OH!” with a shocked look on his face. He pulled over so I could throw up on the street. He insisted on taking me to the emergency room but I said no, I need to make it to the Grand Temple!
I made it thirty minutes before closing time, and it truly was beautiful. I was able to take it all in, making two more stops to the bathroom to hurl whatever liquid was left in my body, and after about an hour there, I headed back. It was rush hour so no taxis were available, but a man on a moped said “I can take you back for 200 baht” (about 6 USD). Done.
I rode on the back of this guy’s moped, grasping onto him for dear life while he zipped between cars (and told me to relax, where I then made the awkward joke that he was my boyfriend? Why, Kaitlyn, why?), and at one point was so tired and dehydrated that I actually started to fall asleep on the back of this thing. I got back to the room, slept until 7PM and when I woke up, I finally started to feel better. I was able to enjoy my last night in Bangkok by eating some REAL street food (I couldn’t really eat until about 11pm), grabbing some Pad Thai (for two dollars!), and people watching (I saw a prostitute grab a guy’s dick to try to make a deal; my virgin eyes!!). It all worked out in the end but I will say, when I was lying there helpless in bed on the other side of the world from everything I know, I had the anxiety of thinking “Why the hell am I here? Why am I doing this? What am I trying to prove? What if I die?” Every negative thought about travelling solo crossed my mind, but once my body rid of all of the water demons from the day before, those thoughts disappeared as well.