ThailandFiveo1

I was just getting out of my second divorce. Closing escrow for the second time in three months. We had just bought our first house three months after getting married, and now I was selling it to finalize our divorce.

My awesome daughter — my Sunshine — was just about to head off for college.

I decided there was no better time than now to explore this world. So I bought my one-way ticket to Thailand for $250 and gave my company three months' notice. I downsized my life to fit into a 38-liter Osprey backpack.

—

Thailand is one of the best countries for a solo traveler to start their journey. As massive and busy as Bangkok is, English is spoken almost everywhere. Once you brave the world through a chatty tuk-tuk driver as you whip down side streets, sidewalks, and oncoming traffic, you'll know you've arrived at your destination by the grace of God.

My first hostel experience of many was just around the corner from the forever party of Khao San Road, with its blasting bombardment of competing music from one bar scene to the next.

I had two things to conquer while I was there: the abandoned mall and the ghost towers.

—

The abandoned mall had been on my bucket list for a while. During the last few months of my marketing career, I logged many hours of research — Googling abandoned and adventurous structures to explore along my way. Things I could do for the most I had.

I left California with about $10,000 in my pocket. Every dime I had. I had a few clients I was going to maintain remotely to subsidize my dwindling retirement. At thirty-eight, I was determined to escape the rat race, and this was my start. With just a laptop and a phone, I was able to maintain a continuous presence while usually sitting on a beach somewhere drinking a beer with exotic company — usually in a tiny bikini.

The rat race isn't for everyone.

—

Hostels are the easiest way for solo travelers to connect with other adventurers. After my first day, I had recruited two beautiful conspirators willing to explore the unseen Bangkok with me and look for the abandoned mall and ghost towers.

My two new adventurers: one, a tall, slender blonde from the UK somewhere. The other, a hottie from Singapore. A high-energy adventurer with a perfect ass. Between the both of them, I was all smiles as we headed on our way in search of the hidden gems.

—

The story of the abandoned mall in Thailand goes like this.

For some reason or other, the mall was closed permanently. Over the years of neglect, the roof collapsed, but nothing changed for the vendors that line the streets surrounding the massive structure. Over time and due to continual rain, the entire basement flooded.

As the newly developed lake grew deeper and deeper, swarms of mosquitoes also developed. They were so overwhelming to the local vendors that someone introduced koi and other local fish into the newly developed ecosystem to control the infestation. Over the years, the fish multiplied into thousands upon thousands in a building basement the size of a stadium.

—

The mall is hidden in plain sight, two streets down from Khao San Road. Vendors surround the mall as if it's not there.

We went along the side of the mall to a carport that we ducked into, out of sight from wandering eyes. Along the left of the carport is a walkway we followed around to where it dead-ends. We rounded a tall tree growing at the end. About ten feet high, there is a three-foot by three-foot hole in the wall.

I went through first. Then I pulled my two eager new friends through.

We came through into an elevator shaft about two stories high. Once we crossed the elevator doorway into the stairway, we entered an apocalyptic scene. A thin layer of mud and silt covered everything. Moss and grass covered most of the mall's floor space. Escalators spanned open spaces from one story to the next. Covered with debris and grass, we cautiously climbed from one floor to the next.

At either end of the vacant mall is a thirty-foot by thirty-foot wide hole where you can see either the clear blue sky if you look up — or down into the massive lake that is alive with life.

Slipping and sliding along, hand in hand, we dragged each other from one creepy shop space to the next. At one end, we were able to go down flights of stairs into the basement. There is a rickety, rotting walkway someone had previously made to walk over the lake filled with fish.

It was a simple journey that lasted no more than an hour. But we were among the few that had seen the hidden ecosystem of this once-massive mall.

The abandoned mall was an eerie adventure of nature overtaking civilization.

—

Ghost Towers. Sathorn Tower is an unfinished skyscraper in the Thai capital city of Bangkok.

After a fifteen-minute boat ride down the massive river cutting through Bangkok, we disembarked into the heart of the city. About three hundred feet from the river stands a massive forty-nine-story skyscraper that was never finished. Its complete concrete construction is void of glass and steel. This massive behemoth has been forgotten and turned over to nature. Completely absent of anything other than concrete forms.

We sneaked through the chain-link fence that cuts the building off from society. After a few short minutes of flirtatious batting of eyes and flattery, the already drunk and clearly underpaid security guard was graciously holding the rickety ladder as my beautiful friends climbed up to the second story, where we started our adventure.

—

The tower loomed above us. Forty-nine stories of concrete and rebar. No windows. No walls. Just the skeleton of a dream that died before it could be born.

We climbed. Floor after floor. The city sprawled below us, indifferent to our presence. The wind whipped through the open floors, and the metal rebar sang in the breeze. My Singaporean companion gripped my arm a little tighter on the narrow stairwells. The blonde from the UK laughed nervously with every gust.

At the top — or as close to the top as we could get — we stood at the edge and looked out over Bangkok. The river snaked through the city like a silver ribbon. The temples glinted gold in the setting sun. The chaos of the streets below faded into a distant hum.

This is why I left. This is why I sold everything. This moment — standing on an abandoned skyscraper in Bangkok, two beautiful women beside me, the whole world spread out at my feet — this was freedom.

—

We descended as the sun set. The security guard waved as we slipped back through the fence. We bought beers from a street vendor and drank them on the boat ride back to Khao San Road.

My companions laughed. I laughed. The city sparkled around us.

I had thirty countries ahead of me. I did not know that Colombia and a stolen Mercedes and a seven-year sentence were waiting. I did not know that I would write these words from a prison cell, looking back at that night with something between gratitude and grief.

But I knew one thing: I was alive.

Truly, fully, irrationally alive.

—

I wrote this on September 18, 2022. I had been in prison for fourteen months. The abandoned mall and ghost towers of Bangkok felt like a different lifetime. Another person. Another Potter.

But I am still that person. The one who climbs through holes in walls. The one who bribes drunk security guards. The one who stands at the edge of unfinished skyscrapers and feels the wind and calls it freedom.

Prison cannot take that from me.

Nothing can.