The Burgundy Residence was very different to the other accommodation I had stayed in over the past five weeks. Very modern, simple and somewhat minimalist, an almost Japanese courtyard opened up in front of me. At the back, I could see a huge pool and behind it, on the first floor, there appeared to be a gym. I had deliberately looked for a hotel that also had a good, modern fitness centre on offer, as I hadn’t done a proper workout for almost five weeks and was a little under-utilised physically.

However, the journey there had been anything but pleasant. But it was interesting. The road was sometimes wrongly labelled as such and at times I wished I had a proper, large four-wheel drive instead of my small, 75 hp Nissan Almera. The large, sudden potholes had already caused the left-hand side panelling of the bumper to come loose in the area of the wheel arch and the shock absorbers had recently started to squeak at an unpleasantly high pitch with every little bump. The car was finished. The traffic was becoming increasingly chaotic, all road users were covered in yellow-grey dust and the sides of the road were lined with all kinds of small and large shops in often desolate buildings. There were busy people everywhere, but nobody really seemed to be doing well. All in all, a very end-of-days, depressing atmosphere. I had chosen this hotel because there was no hotel in the immediate vicinity of the last, oldest tree and I didn’t want to go back to hectic Bangkok just yet. This hotel had been the only available hotel in the neighbourhood with reasonably good reviews.

The doubts about my decision that had arisen during the journey suddenly vanished as soon as I stepped into the reception hall and into the clean, quiet and modern inner courtyard of the Burgundy Residence. Breakfast was included and served from 05:00 to 11:00. Well drinkable coffee was free and available all day. The rooms were neat, very clean and reasonably furnished and there was even a kitchen. Residence. I slowly realised what this was. This ‘island of peace’, a refuge from the chaos, dust and hustle and bustle, had specialised in Asian, predominantly Japanese business travellers, who usually lived – and worked – here for a week or longer. Accordingly, there was little going on here during the day, the fitness area was only a little busy in the early morning and late evening and I even had the spacious pool all to myself. Apparently the Japanese don’t like swimming that much. Now the receptionist’s question at check-in about what I was doing here made sense. No one here had the idea that I could be a tourist. Everyone who was staying here was not here to relax, but to work. Well, that fitted somehow.

Like the previous 10 days, I woke up by myself at around 07:30 in the morning. I had no interest in staying in bed for any length of time. I wanted to get the day off to a flying start. After an extended sports session in the gym and the large pool, followed by a good breakfast, I grabbed a coffee and sat down at the stone tables in the courtyard under a few magnolias. With a view of the minimalist, modern backdrop and the large pool, I spent the next two days analysing past experiences and planning for the next few days. The bustling atmosphere of the Burgundy Residence was a perfect fit and had a beneficial effect.

A lot had happened. Thailand’s trees were perhaps not the first objects that come to mind when looking for motifs of strength and my ‘adventures’ had not been super extreme, but I had experienced a lot and collected many good motifs. However, what had happened the most was within myself. I had touched my vision and really lived in it, albeit somewhat simulated. This had all been so new to me and I had to find myself in it first. But it felt good at all times. The problems I encountered didn’t discourage me. Rather, they had motivated me and somehow even delighted me, and over time I had even developed an appetite for them, as they added flavour and depth to the undertaking. I no longer felt like a guest in a foreign world, where I didn’t really belong and should slowly ‘go home’. I could have left ‘home’ behind me immediately at that point. If only there hadn’t been the money issue. There was no alternative to returning. However, I was by no means depressed or saddened by this, but rather motivated to set off on many more expeditions. Because this spontaneous first expedition had shown me one thing: My idea, my ‘vision’, back in 2019 of the pool had not been an unrealistic pipe dream that felt better in my imagination than in reality. My ‘reverie’ was now reality-tested and had been given the ‘very good’ seal of approval.

david

I stood in front of the huge fridge and let my gaze wander over the countless craft beers. At last, a place with a decent selection of beer rather than just the usual, characterless beer brands Chang, Singha and Leo. Cosy Indi blues rock music blared from the loudspeakers and an unfamiliar but very pleasant, slightly sweet and spicy incense scent enhanced the already very stylish, cosy atmosphere of the bar. I opted for an ‘Indian Pale Ale’ and sat down at a narrow, counter-like table right in front of the window. Fresh, fruity, fizzy, cold, the red-golden beer ran down my throat. ‘The first sip is always the best’ I thought as I gleefully set my beer glass down on the beer mat, wiped the foam from my upper lip and followed the hustle and bustle of the suburban Bangkok street. Apart from me, there was another guest sitting at the bar, a Thai and presumed friend of the young barman. Otherwise, this location was also deserted, as has often been the case. Everything was finished. I had provisionally fixed the bumper of the squeaking hire car and was able to hand it in successfully. I had checked into my last, very simple but clean hotel in Bangkok, close to the airport, and packed my things for the return flight. So this was the end of an exciting episode, my first ‘expedition’. The transition from holidaymaker, the consuming tourist, to adventurer with a mission, an experiencing ‘treasure hunter’, was complete. I had collected motifs, experiences and stories. Now there was nothing more for me to do here, in this country, in this city, except wait for the next morning and take the flight home.

I took another big sip and watched a taxi that had come to a stop right in front of the pub. The passenger, an athletic, white man with very short hair and in his mid-forties, heaved his large black suitcase out of the taxi, paid the taxi driver and headed purposefully towards the bar. ‘The man obviously had a mission too,’ I thought with a grin. He had a bright, friendly face, which had now changed to a somewhat perplexed expression as he stood in front of the huge selection of craft beers. I was familiar with the situation. ‘David*‘, I said, ’I can recommend this IPA here’, holding up the empty bottle of my beer. The man turned round and looked at me, confused. “Um…thanks. How do you know my name?” he asked in a friendly but somewhat sceptical manner. I pointed to his suitcase, which had a small white tag attached to it with his name written in large letters. David laughed. ‘Yes, the sign’ he replied, actually decided on the same IPA and took a seat at a small table just behind me. We exchanged a quick toast, then David turned to his mobile phone and began a loud video call. I had just taken my last sip and was about to order another beer when David beat me to it and called for the barman in a friendly but firm manner and ordered another IPA. ‘He’s really thirsty,’ I thought as the barman sheepishly informed me that these were the last two bottles of this beer.

The bartender walked purposefully to the large fridge and pulled out another IPA with a brightly coloured label. ‘Maybe this?’ We said yes euphorically and I was very excited about the next flavour experience. The last beer had definitely been very good and interesting. ‘Where do you come from?’ the barman asked with friendly interest as he poured the new, shimmering red and gold beer into ice-cold beer glasses. ‘Germany’ I replied, to which the barman broke into a broad, euphoric grin. ‘Oh, I love Germany, great beer,’ he continued with a grin and turned to David, who had just finished his conversation. ‘And you?’ ‘America, south!’ replied David, raising his glass and grinning loudly, shouting ‘PROST!’. I toasted back and asked if I could join him.

The next hour flew by. David told me that he had just been on a kind of ‘furlough’ with his family. He worked as an electrician for the US armed forces in Iraq and kept the infrastructure in the shelters running. But he was not a soldier. There was good money, many good and many terrible experiences and little time for his family. They had therefore spontaneously decided to spend the New Year together in Thailand and had met up here on site. He had just taken his wife and young daughter to the airport and he himself would also be boarding his flight in a few hours. ‘Oh, you’re not staying here overnight?’ I asked? ‘No, I was just looking for a well-rated bar with good beer and didn’t feel like travelling to the airport,’ he replied. We were chatting a bit about the future, dreams, adventures and strength and had a good connection with each other when David suddenly jumped up. ‘I have to go!’ he said and threw 2000 baht, far too much, onto the counter. ‘ Unfortunately, it could have been a loooong evening’ he continued, regretfully and somewhat slurring his words. I firmly agreed. We said a hearty goodbye, David stormed out of the pub and I moved to the bar to join the barman, already very tired. David had downed seven strong beers in the space of 90 minutes and I had also drunk considerably more than I had intended. “What the hell, it was worth it. All for the experiences. Besides, I only have to be physically present tomorrow, the plane and the crew will take care of the rest,’ I thought and ordered my last IPA, this time with a white jumper on a purple board as a label.

‘The next “motif hunt” will be a little different, much more professional ,’ I said to myself. Proper planning, sensible equipment, cameras, a microphone, prepared, translated and printed questions and, if necessary, a knowledgeable translator. Next time, I also wanted to pay even more attention to perceiving, experiencing and enjoying the situations between the motifs. To be less driven and let myself drift more. But one thing was definitely certain:

The next expedition will be great again!

*The name has been changed