A cheap vocation to oblivion

by Rosa Luxemburg

The first time I was holding a ‘Lonely Planet’ guidebook in hand, I was standing in the middle of ‘Ko Sun Road’ in Bangkok. I wasn’t quite prepared for my journey, and I hadn’t read it before I got to Thailand.  So I didn't know where I should go or where I should stay. I took a cab and asked the driver to take me anywhere he thought I could get a place to stay.

So there I was in the middle of that ‘Ko Sun Road’ where the taxi driver dropped me off.

This street was twice as busy as ‘Oxford Street’ before Christmas and ten times as dirty as the Dam Square after ‘Queensday’. I opened the Lonely Planet hoping to find something that could save me from this horror. The first thing I saw in the ‘Lonely Planet’ was the advice to go to ‘Ko Sun Road’ where I was standing anyway. Looking around, I saw endless amounts of tourists using the street, lots and lots of Americans and Europeans, all around. They were also some Thai people there; Thai shop owners, Thai tok tok and taxi drivers, Thai people selling pancakes, lighters, bathing suits, Adidas rip-off and so much other merchandise.

I was standing there with the Lonely Planet at hand thinking: “what the hell is so lonely about ‘Ko Sun Road?”

decided not to travel any more, but the question remained the same: is it possible in our days to be left alone?