Fashion and flavor, not for anyone else. A 160-baht magic.

Pai, a small town in northern Thailand.
A place that every traveler I met during my long journey described as 'an artistic and truly wonderful town.' A place whose name I hadn't even known before visiting Thailand.

Surrounded by mountains, the town drifts with a somewhat nostalgic atmosphere. I wake up to the chirping of birds in the morning, and spend my days leisurely in cafes. At night, the lights of the food stalls flicker on, and the bustling voices of travelers can be heard. In this town where such peaceful time flows, I found two small treasures.

One was a pair of vibrant floral capri pants that I finally bought at a small street stall after visiting for several days and agonizing over the decision. I didn't want to add to my luggage on this long trip, but I just couldn't help but want to take them with me. The price of 160 baht was also a small reason for my hesitation.
The light cotton material feels comfortable against my skin, and the hem flutters softly with every step I take. It's a pattern I'm not used to, but for some reason, it blends in perfectly with the scenery of this town.

The other treasure is the fragrant bread baked every morning at a small shop near my guesthouse. When I bite into the bread, which is still slightly warm and fluffy, a gentle sense of happiness spreads through me. When I chew into it, the sweetness of the wheat fills my mouth. That bakery also sells fresh goat milk, and its rich, slightly sweet taste gently moistens my throat. The warmth of the freshly baked bread and the coldness of the milk—that contrast is irresistible.

When I'm in Japan, both fashion and meals feel somewhat hurried. Chasing trends, worrying about nutritional balance. Perhaps I am bound by many rules without even realizing it.

But here in Pai, I am freed from such rules.
I wear the floral capri pants not because I care what anyone else thinks, but simply because they are comfortable. The freshly baked bread isn't anything special, but I feel that its warmth and simple taste are more delicious than anything else. The fresh goat milk gently moistens my throat.

One morning, I put on those capri pants and went out to buy freshly baked bread and goat milk. The morning sun dyed the mountains orange, and the air was still cool. The soft morning light touched my skin like a gentle drizzle. The woman at the shop greeted me with her usual smile, saying 'Khop khun ka.' The sweet, fragrant scent of the toasted bread tickled my nose.

At that moment, I suddenly thought: perhaps the joy of travel is just the accumulation of these small moments. Comfortable clothes, warm food, and fresh milk encountered in a strange land. They give my heart a small sense of peace.

The scenery of Pai flows peacefully again today. Wearing my vibrant capri pants, biting into freshly baked bread, and drinking slightly sweet goat milk. Such an ordinary morning has become an irreplaceable treasure for me.

—Ah, once again, a soliloquy in a strange foreign land.