Getting up today was hard. Not really that much harder than the last days but I am just tired and felt like I wanted to sleep in. But no time to waste! Our train to the coast was at 9:30am, so my brothers and I got up, packed our backpacks (which to be fair, we could have done yesterday but life is life) and probably woke up everyone in the hostel because the door and locker key system is the loudest on the planet. We ate breakfast at the hotel, the buffet contained of toast, butter, water melon, scrambled eggs, fried rice, fried vegetables and bananas. All of the sudden it was 9:02, then 9:08…we left at 9:16 and ran to the train station.

On the way, I lost my yoga matt. I didn‘t notice it. I only noticed a lady screaming at me and pointing somewhere as we were running through the streets trying to not get overrun by motorcycles. I didn‘t get why she was screaming, decided to ignore it and continued to run. And then I realised that I lost my yoga matt. And I got really sad. But we did not have time to turn back. The train was coming in 7min. In my head I started to try to make peace that I‘ll never see it again and that I either have to either get a new one or just leave it. That matt was like a piece of home in a way even though it‘s not from my actual home. And then, I couldn’t believe it, the lady that screamed at me earlier, she came with a scooter holding my yoga matt and screaming something. Probably that I should have just looked when she was pointing earlier and I should feel very lucky she found me. I was so grateful. So happy. I thanked her so much. I didn‘t think I‘d be so happy about that yoga matt. It‘s interesting how there are tiny things that give that home feeling and how important they become. I bought it at the yoga retreat and carrying it with me since. Doing my practice on it feels special and like I am carrying a piece of that yoga retreat with me, the energy…or maybe more, a reminder of parts of myself that calm me and I feel a warmness in my heart.

In the train, I sat next to a Korean man from Daegu. His name is Jonga. He was sitting in my seat and I felt so bad to tell him. When I was struggling to put my backpack on the shelf above the seats he jumped up and helped me. Turns out, he is traveling in Vietnam at the moment and was in Germany a few years ago. He showed some pictures and said he loves the christmas markets and the brand Hugo Boss.

I feel kind of tired meeting and seeing other backpackers. Everyone is doing the same…I mean of course, everyone wants to do the best places. And they are the best for a reason. Definetly worth visiting. And I am also just a backpacker and tourist. But somehow it feels less like traveling. It starts to feel like everything is a tourist attraction. Like going through a zoo, looking at places and people. And the contrast between poor and rich. How there are local people making food on the street and people taking pictures of it and 5 „expensive tourist shops“ next to it. How the „better jobs“ in a hostel or tourist agency are often held by white people and the cleaners, bartenders or just in general service people are locals. To be honest, I didn’t see it that much in Vietnam yet since we moved from one place to the next very quickly. But I noticed that in the few dive centers I’ve been to in Thailand: the dive masters/instructors usually Western, the people maintaining the diving equipment Thai. But in Tonsai (Thailand) for example, the climbing instructors were all Thai. And as far as I remember, it is forbidden for foreigners to work as climbing instructors. And I read that this rule also applies to other specific jobs to protect job opportunities for locals.

Right now I feel like I want to get to know the locals more. Maybe after the island, when my brothers go back to Germany, I‘ll try to find a homestay in the country side for a while. I feel that would be really nice.