I left Huai Yang around nine in the morning.

No rush. I packed my bag, checked out, then sat on the beach for a bit first. Sun was nice. Not hot, not cold. Mid-twenties maybe. One of those mornings where you don’t feel pushed to do anything yet.

Eventually I loaded the bike and headed off.

Getting out meant going back through those small, bumpy roads. Sand, potholes, barely a road in places. Palm trees either side. Or some kind of trees — tall, thin, everywhere. People working in the fields as I passed. It took about fifteen minutes before I hit a proper road again.

I rode through a small village not long after. Food stalls. People cooking. Kids about. Everyone smiling. Friendly without being nosy. It felt very rural, which surprised me. It didn’t feel that far from Hua Hin — maybe four hours — but it was green everywhere. Trees. Fields. Proper countryside.

I tried to stick to smaller roads where I could, but a lot of the time you’re just on the main ones. And once I was on them, things picked up.

It got sunnier as the day went on. I had all my bike gear with me, but I hadn’t put my gloves on. After a while I noticed my hands getting hot. Especially the left one, just sitting on the bar the whole time. Starting to feel burnt. Not ideal.

Traffic was heavier too. Way more trucks. Big ones. They didn’t really give you much space. Just pushing past, close enough that you noticed it. There were moments where I was doing what I thought was the speed limit and still had cars right up behind me. Three feet away, maybe less. It felt mad at first.

Every now and again I’d see something that made me pull over. A random temple. Nothing planned. Just stop, have a look, then keep going. I remember one spot where there was a big golden eagle statue by the roadside near a temple. No idea where exactly. Just one of those things you don’t forget.

I stopped at 7-Eleven a couple of times. Grabbed an M-150 and an ice cream. Let the bike cool down. Let myself cool down.

At one stop, a guy came over. No English at all. Just smiling and waving. Saying hello. Then he made a camera gesture. I thought he wanted me to take a photo of him.

Turns out he wanted a photo of me and the bike.

Fair enough.

Another stop was at a small local shop for food. No English. No Thai on my side either. A lot of pointing. Smiling. Laughing. Somehow it worked.

I had music on most of the time in my headphones. When I was on the main roads, I was just focused on getting where I was going. But once I got onto slower, twistier roads, I found myself enjoying it more. Watching the scenery. Letting the ride happen.

Chumphon was bigger than I expected.

When I arrived, it felt different again. I stayed in a hotel that seemed to be mostly for Chinese tourists. I was the only white person there. Honestly, I don’t even think there were many Thai guests — just a couple of girls working behind the desk.

I felt more alone there. Not in a bad way. Just noticeable. Fewer foreigners around, at least the kind I was used to seeing.

By the time I got off the bike, my body felt it. Hands. Neck. Legs. But it felt good. The kind of tired you earn.

Second day on the road.

I’d taken a few small detours, nothing major. No big plan. Just riding.

And I was enjoying it.