It's been a long journey to get back home, it started the day I left. But when I remember the places I traveled to, I remember most the people I met along the way. Because traveling in itself is amazing and unbelievable and incredibly humbling, but it's even more special when you're able to share it with someone.
Here's to the three Dutch people I met the first night in Bangkok, one of whom ate a fried scorpion on Koh San Road; the young guy who worked at the Hanoi hostel who booked all my tours and blew me a kiss as I left for Hue; Alba, who I ate the worst pizza with after we had waited for two hours for it; the four other single girls on my trek in Sapa, who relished in the delicacy of the only bar high in the mountains; the French couple and the Australian mom and her son Jack in Halong Bay, who took me in as part of the family, and with our dog Pork; the girl on the beach at Cat Ba Island who lent me her Margaret Atwood book and told me of a bookstore in Hanoi of where to find it; Marieke and Mendy, when we motorbiked in Hoi An and ate the best Pho ever, and took beautiful Polaroid pictures; the Vietnamese man who drove me through the mountains on the back of his motorbike and stopped at every viewpoint for photos; Filipe in Saigon who walked the city for hours with me; Damian in Krabi who lost his wallet on the bus and found a young kid to motorbike him back to get it; the German family in Koh Lanta who stayed up late watching sunsets and listening to the waves, and then met me in Railay as well; Isabella from the bus up to Bangkok who showed me where to get good massages and where to shop; Jeff and Justin, who let me sleep in every morning and took me on wild tuktuk rides; the girl at the Tokyo airport who agreed that we both needed more time to explore this side of the world.

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