Traveling Is for Chumps!
By: Rene Satsi
Tags: Satire, Travel Writing, Humour, Thailand

Traveling Is for Chumps!

I don’t want to be a fusspot, but I managed to get myself in trouble by taking a trip.

A colleague offered me access to a cheap flight, and I am compelled to seize the opportunity any time something is given away cheaply, be it a rubber eraser, a turnip, or a journey to a foreign land. In order to get ahead in life, I must purchase the discounted item, even if I have no actual need for it.

The great calamity that befell me, against which I am hereby sternly warning you all, was that the cheap flight took me to the Kingdom of Thailand, which is not at all a “warm country,” as described in a book I read, but an extremely hot one instead! Deaths of heatstroke there are not only possible but rather common, as I’ve heard. Why would anyone travel to a place like that? I, alas, became one of those unfortunate fools, eternally ruing the day I made such a hasty decision.

I have read many horror stories describing the disastrous mishaps of unwitting tourists who have abandoned their daily commitments in order to poke their unfortunate noses where they don’t belong. Woefully, these ominous features failed to prepare me for anything that transpired.

My troubles started already on the plane. I was offered free alcohol! Such wiles will drive a man to the throes of alcoholism, breaking his family apart. One thinks they’re embarking upon a fun vacation, only to be swiftly transformed into a detestable booze friend — what a pleasant surprise!

The liquid vice I was tempted with came in the form of outright whiskey — something I never abide under normal circumstances, firstly because of gastrointestinal grievances, and secondly because, unlike some people, I could mention, I do not earn a prime minister’s salary.

Trying my best to suppress the advancing heartburn, I naturally downed the foul stuff — it was free, after all — yet I despised myself bitterly. Who wouldn’t have? Skipping nary a beat, one of the hussies brought me another snifterful of the hard stuff. For some reason, she must have thought I like poison. Sure enough, I presently took care of that one, too, and was just about to snap at her disparagingly in order to keep the devil at bay, when deep sleep unexpectedly overtook me.

Right before my eyes drooped shut, a suspicion entered my mind. Did I remember to leave fresh water out for Spot? It dawned on me that I had forgotten to ask my neighbor Ants to regularly feed the mutt. Well, whatever. I won’t call him from abroad. It’s too damn expensive! That’s exactly what these multinational communications conglomerates want — to impoverish us by forcing us to make phone calls from foreign lands! I refuse to get fooled again!

When I awoke, we had arrived, but that did not make the situation any better. The border is usually where the true unpleasantness starts. Holding out my travel documents, I carefully enunciated in my mother tongue at the border guard: “Mina olen eestlane. Ole terve!” (“I am an Estonian! Be well!”).

Alas, the oaf understood not a single word of the Estonian language, opting instead to repeatedly stamp my passport, as if engulfed in a debilitating fit of epilepsy. Oh, the unenlightened state of these folk! I get it. The country is extremely poor, and only those in the court of the King can afford to receive some form of official education, but couldn’t the village elders at least make an effort to teach their subjects some foreign languages? Especially the border guards — considering that they are the first people one meets entering the country, what impression does one glean from a place where even the men guarding the entrance to the country are not fluent in elementary Estonian? Let’s be honest — it’s nothing but a country of fools!

Another worrisome phenomenon that I immediately noticed was the fact that most of the people in Asia tend to have weirdly slanted eyes. Everyone looks like they’ve spent a fortnight not getting any sleep. How can anyone take such folks seriously?

Continuing my journey, I managed to get to a beach — through a multitude of fearsome atrocities, on which I refuse to dwell, as I don’t want to come over as a fusspot. Sagely, I wore a rubber suit to the beach, for I had heard from the news that Thailand had once been ravaged by some sort of giant wave and, should the attack be repeated, I was the only one prepared! You’re not dealing with a fool here, after all!

I noticed, though, that the beach was full of merry travelers without any clothes to cover their shame. The young ladies seemed nice enough but for the thin strips of flimsy fabric in between their buttocks, and most of the young men were apparently too poor to afford even a shirt. Some, at least, had the forethought to adorn themselves with fox’s teeth hanging from chains around their necks. It’s disgraceful to have no money for clothes. And why don’t they have enough money? They’re traveling the world instead of doing honest work! That’s the real reason these fools are destitute!

Another oddness I observed were these kangaroo-like animals. What do you call them…? Oh, yes — monkeys! I saw monkeys! Filthy, foul beasts, their appearance, and demeanor proclaiming foreignness from miles away! Throughout history, man has had to deal with the scourge of monkeys, and I, personally, can see no end to that fight. It can’t have been very farsighted to equip such a strong, stupid animal with a pair of hands and opposable thumbs — tools useful for perpetrating a sickening plethora of criminal infractions. Anyway, I always managed to flee the scene whenever they made an appearance. Sometimes I would simply find a corner to sulk in, but sometimes I went out to eat.

I find foreign comestibles to be similar to monkeys, in that both are just awful. Traditional Estonian boiled potatoes, brown sauce, and black bread were nowhere to be found. The stuff they choose to call food in Thailand mainly consists of indescribable muck profusely mixed with excessive amounts of pepper. The locals seem to love a type of thick, brightly colored ooze they call curry. Despite fried egg being occasionally added to the curry, the folks here still appear to consume it with unabashed enjoyment. How desperately drunk does the whole nation have to be to come up with cuisine like that?

To be fair, the problems with the availability of proper food are not limited to Thailand. If you plan on doing any eating on your journeys abroad, I heartily advise you to abandon all thought of the traveling part. Take France, for example. I recently found an article on the Internet that said the French actually consume frogs. Arriving in the early morning, I would be famished there before the mid-afternoon. In all solemnity, I hereby swear to never set foot on the accursed soil of Gaul!

Every evening, in each and every Thai guest house I stayed at, white-faced people came to my door to chat. This is another aspect of traveling that’s bound to make a man lose his wits — constantly running into people who tend to be both irritatingly interesting as well as unashamedly good-humored. Woe unto me, it makes me want to spit in anger! Excuse me very much, but when I want to meet people, I will attend a class reunion, not travel to a faraway land! A class reunion comes up like clockwork, once every ten years. This gives one time enough to prepare for conversations, instead of stumbling into spontaneous human interactions all willy-nilly like some discourteous Lebanese peasant. But who am I to complain?

As soon as I had — through sheer luck and unwavering relentlessness — somehow managed to make it back from my so-called vacation, I had to rush Spot to the vet. Also, a cold water pipe had burst in my toilet. I hereby swear, as I live and breathe, to never take another trip abroad, ever again!

Unless the tickets are extra cheap, of course.