But it is very sunny today in Chiang Mai. My underboobs are sweating, but my cats are particularly liking days like this the most. They get to roll over on rocky, sandy-textured tiles, which are warm, basking in the sun, looking at the butterflies with curiosity, and chirping over birdies.

Warm enough you enjoy the sun, not too warm that it makes you faint.

It is amazing how the weather of each day reminds you of a particular day, the days that were significant to you. And today reminds me of Bergen. I came to know the name of the city less than two weeks before I left Europe. I couldn’t afford Lofoten, of course, and Oslo had nothing striking for me. After I had a Norwegianized Mushroom Pad Thai there, I do not wish to visit that city again. Anyhow, I wanted to visit Norway, and Bergen seemed like a perfect place that ticked all my boxes at that time. It didn’t take me long to book all the flights and accommodations, probably just a couple of days of thinking. Just the thought that I wanted to leave Stockholm so bad, and wanted to be back in Thailand for good.

The dawn I left seems like a mystery now that I think of it. Everything was blurry. I got a city cab, yes, to drop me off at a bus station? So I could take another bus? It was damp and dark that day, that morning. Not from the rain — the rain doesn’t come in April. It was the icy roads that melted away. It was snowing the night before.

“It’s always rainy in Bergen.”

My host dad spoke after he heard the plan. Dude was bald (by choice?), in his early 40s, thin and very tall-built, with olive skin. He got that 13-year-old kind of spirit smile, which his jackass son inherited. But his face, anyway, remained ethnically ambiguous to me. 

“Oh no,” I responded. “I will be there for only a couple of days. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain so much.”

It did not rain.

For two days, it didn’t. 

I arrived at the airport. Things were going slow. There were some tourists, but the number wasn’t overwhelming. I took the airport shuttle to the town centre. I dragged my 30-inch luggage over the hill to the hostel, and met with the receptionist guy who looked like young Scully from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Opposite the hostel building, there was a Thai massage shop with a total one-star rating on Google.

Next thing I knew, I was basking my face in the sun next to a glittery lake. I smelled the grass. I could hear the birds chirping; they were flying all over. They were loving the day just as much as I was. I was in a thick brown coat. I felt warm, but not too warm. I felt liberated. Yes, I felt free and liberated.

That day was, in fact, the best weather day of any day I spent in Europe, both in terms of internal spirituality and, honestly, scientifically. I glanced around, seeing other people sunbathing. It took me almost 30 years, traveling through continents and oceans, to finally understand why people enjoy the sun. We don’t do this where I’m from. I glared at the group of emo kids next to me, their smiles and laughter. Their existence outside proved how magical that day was.

I did a quick video call with my family before it was followed by a growling sound from my tummy. I remembered there was a kebab shop around the corner from my hostel, and I walked back there as it’s on the way to the town port. I wasn’t greeted by anyone; rather, a chef and a couple of his friends were gathered at the corner of the shop as if they were doing something. Something like… online gambling?

“Sit, sit, wait for some time, OK?”

I waited for almost 10 minutes. My eyes scanned through the menu. There were no kebabs. They were all something new to me, and this is fun. I got to try something new, and it could come out as a surprise.

“I’ll have Manakish, please.” Although hummus isn’t something new to me, nor kebab, Manakish is far from what I know. It is of Lebanese origin, slightly similar to pizza without cheese. I remembered choosing mutton topping, and it was chef’s kiss.

.

I did a few other things without going out of the city to the fjords or hiking. I had ice cream, and saw a parade. Spotted so many mixed kids, particularly Wasians, and it just felt nice not having to feel like an alien anymore. So, so many young people in the city — it felt refreshing. I saw and chatted with an old lady feeding birds, despite the “Do Not Feed” sign. I randomly talked to a dude who had a brown poodle and petted him (the dog), for his fiancée? To appear after and looked at me like I was a weirdo.

I also saw a couple leaving the town council after their wedding.

“Congratulations!” I said. Should I kill myself? I thought. 

“Thanks!” The bride, who to me resembled Jennifer Love Hewitt, turned around and gave a sweet smile. This was my most random day. It was someone else's wedding.

And someone’s death.

I was late for the bus to the airport, and I was waiting hurriedly at the stand. Before I knew it, a rather loud hospital van was parked. They carted out the body. Nothing crazy, and I tried not to look at it. It was probably due to natural causes. As humanely as I was, I was more worried about missing a flight to the next country than someone else’s death.

I left, just as I never knew how I did.

I might not remember everything I saw there, but I will always remember how I felt. I will always remember how good the Mandalay restaurant was, where I had the freshest and most delicious hotate. I will remember how I missed a chance to try the only Korean BBQ in town. I will remember the people. I will remember to come back for more days like this in Bergen.

Soon.