Who owns your time? 4 years in.

Musings

Mae Fa Luang

Been a while since I posted anything. There's not much to report really - but in a good way. Mostly just enjoying life and living in the moment.

• Jun 2026 marked 20 years in Asia
• Sep 2026 marks 4 years free of wage slavery
• Dec 2026 marks 8 years free of piss/tabs

Four solar orbits since pulling the ER2@48 self-emancipation trigger. It got me pondering "value" again.

20 years in Asia

I left England two decades ago today. The 12th of June 2006. The Shetlands dissolving on a bleak southern horizon represented both a solemn farewell to Blighty and a rapturous jump into the unknown. The old life vanishing in the wake as we steamed north, towards the Arctic, smiling.

32 then, 52 now. I didn't plan it, it just happened. Let's take a peek through the murky telescope of history. I'll keep it brief.

Violated

Wawi

Sat in the lounger gazing at impossibly green rice paddies framed by an electric blue sky and exotic palm trees. So tropical. So beautiful. Truly no better place on earth for morning coffee and contemplation. Where will this afternoon's ride take me? However, today's jaunt is postponed in order to pen the mind's latest gyrations.

Freedom isn't Free

 

Still loving it. Over 8,000km of awesomeness in two months. Mint.

Longer rides have me pondering the Germanic trio who've had a huge influence on my trajectory. Schopenhauer (1788), Nietzsche (1844) and Mises (1881).

Easy Rider

Top of the world

Moving here was absolutely the right thing to do. No question. Already racked up 4,000km in just a few weeks. Most days out and about - going nowhere in particular. It's been brilliant. Got me thinking:

Why do I love it so much?

A deceptively simple question. I think it mostly comes down to "being present".

When you're focused on motion, traction, lean angles, traffic, throttles, gears and brakes - the ego simply dissolves - no distractions - no anxiety - truly in the moment.

Third Time Lucky?

Aussie Mark's seat

Sipping coffee as I stare across the Mekong. Contemplating failed endeavours at the Thai-Laos-Burma tripoint. I'd tried to live here twice before but the universe hurled spanners into the rotating machinery of my life.

Recap

31st October 2006 - 32yo. First time across the Tropic of Cancer. Only 30 days but northern Thailand had touched something deep. I knew I'd be back.

Joy in Self-Mastery

It's September and I've only posted thrice in 2025. What's going on? Not sure, perhaps it's indicative of how chilled early retirement in the tropics is? Still feels like I'm "living the dream".

Anyhow, the inspiration for this drivel is an American who moved here in January. The way he's structured his life is at such variance with mine that he's had me reflecting on the choices both parties have made - and prompted an examination of a glaring life paradox - which will be reconciled here.

From Coal to Code

Growing up in Geordieland during the miners' strike, a strange tension simmered of which I dared not speak. Outwardly, an unthinking cultural loyalty to the miners - but inwardly a niggling sense something was off. A 10 year old's emerging realisation that there's more to the overarching cosmic order than just Mam, Dad, School and filling pages with football stickers. Got, got, need, got.

Meaning in Chaos. Signal in Noise.

June 2025 marks:

• 3 years in Kampot
• 19 years in Asia

It's been three months since the last post, a lack of inspiration being the main cause. There are no grandiose philosophical points to elucidate, few data points to add and even fewer musings of a 51yo wokefugee contentedly eeking out an early retirement of tranquility in the tropics. Therefore, the following is merely a summary of recent events, the dullness of which is for the reader to judge.

Agency and Disenchantment

Kru Sateeb

Another PDR (Pay Day Runner) added to the long list of PDRs. This one, however, felt different. It was the first one where I understood I was exercising agency.

What's agency? Glad you asked: the capacity of individuals to have the power and resources to fulfill their potential. Or, in more crude vernacular, the capacity to do whatever the fvck you want, when and where you want - (so long as you don't intrude upon the life, liberty and property of others). Perhaps intelligence could be thought of as the ability to acquire, understand and use knowledge in the pursuit of agency?

Old flame or dying embers?

5 years

Composing this drivel in a perfectly ambient hotel room in Thailand. Thailand? Aye, I'm back after exactly 5 years. Flew out on the 4th November 2019 and flew back in on the 4th November 2024. Weird or what? 3yrs Cambo + 2yrs Nam = definitely got me SEA wings noo like.

ER2@48 - two years in

Island Boy

Two years since that nail-biting PDR (pay day runner) from Vietnam. A short flight to PP followed by a van to the Pot where I was welcomed back to the Pumphouse by a laptop-wielding beer-swilling freedom-loving Antipodean who definitely sings from the same hymn sheet as yours truly - bless his cotton socks.

Answer to nobody

Shitbox in Kep

I live for myself and answer to nobody.

I've been ruminating over Steve McQueen's words as early retirement approaches the two year milestone. The mind pictures him racing across the Swiss Alps on a motorbike. Free. Living for himself and answering to no one. No wives, bosses or clocks demanding his precious time and energy. I've dedicated much thought to living the best possible life and here we'll examine a few ideas from various (mostly Schoppy) sources.

Decadence

Kampot Seahorse

June 2024 marks:

• 2 years in Kampot
• 18 years in SEA

The last two years have been chilled af - effortless - living the dream. Contrast that to 2009 where I was slogging it out in a Trang government school, full time, for $780/month. Mostly hungover. However, I thoroughly enjoyed the time there and even saved enough of the pitiful salary to buy a Honda Phantom which ended up taking me to many Thai nooks and crannies few foreigners get to see.

Conceived in Liberty

"To be born an Englishman is to have won the lottery of life"

New place

Quipped Cecil Rhodes at the Empire's zenith. I sometimes wonder what this giant of British imperialism would make of today's England? And the wider western world at large? Would he agree with the weak-men-create-hard-times meme doing the rounds on Twatter? Surely he'd wince at the degeneracy? The weakness? The pandering? The decline? Would he approve of the increasing trend across the west to incrementally remove freedoms? Boil the frog? Maybe.

Satisfaction

On Submarines, in the 1990s, I vaguely recall a more senior lad who seemed to be above all the bullshit, detached if you will, seemingly floating up ladders and along decks. Effortlessness personified.

The Big Five Oh

Stunning

Fifty orbits around a burning sphere of hydrogen. Fifty arbitrary time-units as an impermanent coalition of quarks and electrons, gravitationally bound to an encrusted sphere of liquid iron. In a form conscious not only of its existence, but also of its ultimate demise. Beholden to, and limited by, seemingly universal physical laws. No choice in the matter - simply thrust into the glaring light of being, endowed with only the evolved faculties of a primitive ape. It's all so mind-bogglingly bizarre.

ER2@48 - a year in

So then, aye, a full year of early retirement in Kampot. Has it been everything I'd hoped? Spose so aye. Can't overstate the gratitude I feel to be unencumbered by the trivial and mundane. Free of petty managers, mono-dimensional colleagues and insipid grind. A visa not contingent on thumbing-in-and-out of a prison. No longer a number on a ledger. A whole year. Free.

17 years, Man and Boy

Bokor Sunset

Laid in the hammock observing sinister cloud formations over Bokor. Next door's fluffy dog on my lap. As the seasons shift from hot/dry to cool/wet the sky is often pregnant with electrical energy. Distant arcs of lightening, count the seconds, 15, so roughly 5km, a while yet before hammock-evac.

Rotting in Kampot

Lotus pond sunset

Tech

June 2023 marks:

• 1 year in Kampot
• 17 years in SEA

32 when I left, 49 now. The social and technological changes have been staggering. The early blogs were hastily cobbled together in internet cafes - normally in an hour. Phones didn't have cameras so the 2006 - 2009 era is light on pics. I had a habit of drunkenly losing USB sticks and cheap digital cameras - most of the photos back then were courtesy of transient girlfriends.

The Xi'an Glimpse

Feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude to be here. To be alive. It's been a surreal few weeks.

It may have inadvertently started when a Manc septuagenarian began to (randomly) recite passages of Othello while downing cans of Black Panther. Auld Dave's as tough as they come having spent decades as a boxing coach. The last thing I was expecting was a broadside of Shakespearean prose as I scoffed me pie n chips - tremendous.

Don't go chasing Waterfalls

Loving Kampot. Seven months here. The blink of an eye.

Kampot-time flashes by whereas Saigon-time wades, waist-deep, through putrid sludge.

How? Simple. Physics tells us that time dilates depending on an observer's relative velocity and/or location within a gravitational field. Clearly, Saigon must be orbiting a massive black hole at incredible speed giving rise to its lethargic clock.

Was grateful to visit TWO waterfalls on the back of antipodean Simon's AirBlade - like shit off a stick that thing. He rented "The Pumphouse" back in the day before escaping to Kep. A most convivial companion - perfect for splodging up jungle streams and clambering over slippery rocks to reach the refreshing ទឹកធ្លាក់វាលពួច.

49 times around the buoy

Progress

Lying in the hammock enjoying the evening chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets. Not a breath of wind - palm fronds motionless in the still air. Winking stars dot the blackness - incomprehensibly distant. The moonless night rendering Bokor Hill invisible. Perfect. I feel ridiculously grateful to be here.

Kampot Capers

Hurricane

Hunkered down in my $70 room sheltering from Typhoon Nora. On Wednesday the 28th of September it slammed into Danang after killing 6 in the Philippines a few days earlier. It reached the peak classification of Violent Typhoon with wind speeds of 255 km/h. Like most of SEA, Kampot was caught in the wash. The half dozen water buffalo roaming around outside the room bore the brunt of it, poor buggers.

ER2@48 - pulling the trigger.

Starter

September 2022 and I've only written two entries this year. Shocking. Saigon literally extracts the creativity from your soul. Meanwhile, I'm stunned to see the hit count approaching 500,000 ... quite something considering this blog is essentially the aimless ramblings of an eccentric loon.

Kampot - 16 years in Asia.

BinYenh Guesthouse

Was lucky to get the first week of May off, so spent it back in Mui Ne. Magical. Same room. Same routine. Rinse and repeat. Daily 9km walks along a NATO standard tropical beach - palm trees and strikingly blue sea. Destination: Teen Cafe and its prominent viewpoint.

Retire@39 fail. Retire@48?

I haven't written for a while. Truth is there's not much to write about. I'm simply grinding out the lifeless-life of a sector-7g worker drone, in a spirit-crushing urban hell-scape, stacking as much $Dong as I feasibly can in order to not have to do this again. I mostly spend the time daydreaming about my time in Battambang, Chiang Mai, Nepal and the many epic motorbike trips I enjoyed in rural Thailand. Treasured memories, getting harder to evoke, elusive, like grasping for smoky tendrils near a ceiling fan. Man, I couldn't be further away - in both spatial and temporal domains.

Amor Fati - Luxury is weakness

Sunday afternoon, December, 31C. Lovely, doubt I'll ever tire of tropical winters. Cocooned in a windowless bed-n-bog - insulated from the traffic - both the horns (aaahh) and the filth, though the air quality is treating our lungs to a rare day in the green.

You never know what's round the corner

Got double jabbed. I didn't want to get vaxxed but I do want to travel. Government overreach around the world has been terrifying. Some Europeans are protesting but compliant Asians have bent over and taken it - no lube. The Army starvation lockdowns in HCMC were brutal - the worst on earth!

For this too shall pass

Today's title is culturally appropriated from ancient Persia, reflecting on the ephemeral nature of things.

HoChiMing had already been locked down for 3 months when they decided to bring the Army in. We can't leave our homes - not even to shop. If the coof doesn't get you - starvation and depression will. Welcome to the planet's most draconian lockdown.