As you might have heard or read I am leaving for Bangkok the start of November. Post rain-season, pre high-season, my timing of arrival is perfect as ever.

It’s not the first time I’m heading for Thailand. Not at all. By now it must be, give or take a trip, at least 12 times in these last eight years. In a nicely colored timeline (watch the yellow part) that would translate into prox, uhm… 17 months living under realm of the King.

So yeah, you might say I am quite a habitual man. I am cool with it. Habits are not like routines. I kiss my girl every morning when I wake up. Habits make sense.

But for now just call me a slow traveler. I never felt the urge to see as many things in a set timeframe. No iniatuaries for me, please, just a change of direction at the spur of the moment. Sometimes I just stay put for months at the same place, happy as a man can be just by the shift of light at a certain corner; utterly content by this standstill, with no need or urge for change or a different view at all. Of course the opposite happens too. Within a day or even hours after arrival, just by a faint hunge or slight feeling of discomfort, I’ll pack my (often still unpacked) bags again and jump ship, bus or train, almost instantly on the move again. As far as I can tell there is no golden rule to the what and why of it. It doesn’t bother me. It just happens.

Time is irrelevant. Experiences are.

Thailand makes it easy to think and feel this way. It fits my way of traveling.

So I will start in Bangkok and without any doubt, as soon as I arrive that strange mechanism of destiny and destination starts churning, deciding if and where it’ll spit me out. What will it be this time? Up north, way west, down south or all the way across the border of Laos or Cambodia. Will I go beachbumming, citycrawling, high culture or low key? Books or Chang driven chit chat? I have absolutely no frigging idea. It’s all up by that sweet blend of happy chance and having a perfect time. Making sense or not, I can’t wait to see it happen. Again.