The Patty project

Bangla Road – Phuket, Thailand.

Phuket was a dream long before it was a destination.

In our early twenties, Eli and I would flip through travel brochures and pause at the glossy images of turquoise water and palm trees. Phuket felt exotic. Far away. Slightly out of reach.

So when we finally arrived in January 2023, it was meant to be celebratory.

Instead, my luggage didn’t arrive.

It landed nine days later — on the very plane we were boarding to come home.

Being a plus-sized woman in Thailand without my clothes meant I quickly discovered that most “larger” options were beer-branded muscle tops designed for heavy-set men. I tried to make light of it. I tried to be grateful. But between liaising with the airline and insurance company, I felt stuck in a mix of sadness, anger, disbelief and anxiety.

Phuket wasn’t unfolding the way we had imagined.

Still, we ventured out.

On the night this story took place, we found ourselves on Bangla Road.

If you’ve never been, the only way to describe it is loud, bright, busy and overwhelming. Neon lights everywhere. Music competing from every doorway. Tourists from all over the world looking for what they call “a good time” — and that phrase means very different things to different people.

Marijuana signage is everywhere in Thailand now, and Bob Marley’s face seems to feature on every third shopfront. Reggae spills into the street between bursts of techno. Both Eli and I love reggae music, and between his dreadlocks and mine, we visually fit the scene well enough — even though we’re not there for what most people assume.

We chose a reggae bar over the thumping techno clubs. Familiar music in unfamiliar surroundings. High stools. A bar table perfect for people watching.

We had only been sitting there a short while when a very tall, broad-framed American man pulled up a chair beside us and started chatting.

He had served in the military. He spoke confidently about the “American way.” He had an ex-wife and children back home, but he had left the USA for a different life in Thailand. He now owned a bar and spoke openly about the local scene — including the “working girls.”

Earlier that night, I had quietly shared with Eli how uncomfortable I felt seeing some of the young Thai girls on Bangla Road. Many looked so young. Some looked drugged. Some looked visibly unhappy. I had said I could support anyone’s chosen way of life — if it genuinely looked like a choice.

When I voiced that to him, he didn’t become defensive. Instead, he explained the other side — how for many of these women, this work supported families and children back in their villages. He spoke about economic realities. About remittances. About survival.

I didn’t agree with everything he said. But I listened.

As the drinks flowed, the tone shifted.

The confident storytelling about America and business softened into something more vulnerable.

He spoke about his marriage breakdown. About leaving his children behind. About how it was now too late to go back and do things differently. The bravado thinned. The honesty thickened.

Like the man we met in Vietnam, once the alcohol settled and the night stretched on, he started speaking less about escape and more about regret.

We sat there for hours.

When we finally stood to leave, he thanked us for the conversation. We thanked him for the drinks and joked that we’d call it even — drinks in exchange for a therapy session.

As he walked back into the neon chaos of Bangla Road, he turned and said something familiar:

“I’ve never spoken about any of this with anyone before.”

And there it was again.

Not the chaos.
Not the bravado.
Not the performance.

Just relief.

I didn’t feel heavy walking away. I didn’t feel responsible for his story. I felt honoured that he had trusted us with it.

Eli and I looked at each other and smirked.

Another country.
Another long conversation.
Another truth spoken far from home.

Travel, for us, isn’t just about beaches or bars or bucket lists.

It’s about the people who sit down beside us.

And what they’re ready to say when someone is willing to listen.

—
#PattyAndEliTravelDiaries
Phuket, Thailand