In our case, this was the first time that I would be the one who did most of the research, planned the itinerary, and chose our mode of travel. For three weeks, we would visit Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam - a big trip by almost any measure.
My mother, Susan, likes to make the travel decisions. And my father, Richard, who would rather spend hours looking for a bulb for his penlight than touch a guidebook, has faith that his wife - like him, a retired teacher - but perhaps not his son, would not lead him through travelers’ purgatory.
As we sketched out a plan, I turned to a standby refrain: “Trust me, I’ve been there before. You’re going to love it.’’
This played out well on our first night. I chose an unassuming Bangkok guesthouse - set amid a labyrinthine network of alleys that might feel unsettling to a first-time traveler in Southeast Asia - for its no-frills, yet relaxing, appeal.
“I never would have stayed here without you,’’ my mother said the next morning, as we walked through the local alleys looking for a snack. “But I love it. I love all the people out on the street doing their thing.’’ She and my father were also fond of the welcoming atmosphere, charming elderly owner, and relative calm in an otherwise frenetic and buzzing city.
This bode well for the next few weeks.
I was surprised by how much they enjoyed Cambodia, the least developed of the countries we visited. After Bangkok, the long overland journey to Siem Reap was like being transported back in time.
“What are those things,’’ my father asked, studying a hacked-together vehicle common in rural Cambodia. Composed of an oversized walking-tractor connected by a narrow platform to a pair of orphaned wheels, they are built to serve as transportation and mechanical replacement for ox and cart.
It made sense that my father found these machines so interesting. He grew up on a small family farm, and is adept enough with a wrench that he used to keep a spare engine in the garage, “just in case we need it.’’
