Bangkok, Thailand-
Waiting in the lobby of my hostel, with me was a drunk, half asleep Thai woman, wearing a skin-tight dress. She spotted my backpack and asked where I was going, which was Kanchanaburi. Except my pronunciation was so terrible I had to show her the name in my guidebook before she understood. She took it upon herself to teach me the correct pronunciation, so every few minutes she would rouse herself from the couch, demand “Where are you going?” and painstakingly corrected me, until I got it right, where she would give me a thumbs up, then slump back. This continued for an hour, until I was picked up.
Selchuk, Turkey-
Waiting on the side of the road for a bus I was suspecting was never going to show until the high season, a middle aged Turkish couple in a battered Mercedes drove past me three times, waving at me each time. Next time they pulled over, the wife hopped out and said the name of the town I was staying at, then ushered me into the front seat of the Merc and got into the back, and the husband drove off to Ecabat. When we arrived at the main street, both husband and wife got out and shook my hand, and I murdered the Turkish phrase for thank you, then returned to their car and drove off. I watched them get back to the intersection of the highway. This couple went out of their way to make sure I got back safe, without a word of English between them, and with only a handful of words in Turkish from me.
Hanoi, Vietnam-
I walk through an unmarked door between two shopfronts, down a long hallway ending in a family’s living room and then go up a wooden staircase, which dumps me into a cafe. I order the specialty of the house, coffee made with whipped egg instead of milk or cream. I take a seat at one of those typical low and brightly coloured tables so common throughout SE Asia, and drink my coffee while reading Hemingway, knowing I will probably never feel this cool and content for the rest of my life.
Koh Rong Samloen, Cambodia-
When she tapped the ash from her cigarette into the shell-ashtray by my naked toes, while I sung to the song playing on the stereo (you can be addicted to a certain kind of sadness), I realized that this unrequited love I was feeling was not, and should not go anywhere. This was immediately followed by intense self-loathing, and I decided I couldn’t deal with this without getting horribly drunk, or stoned. I did both,. which of course was a terrible idea.
Vang Vieng, Laos-
After a day tubing down the Mekong and drinking an alarming amount of the local beer, and a disturbing number of free shots of the local moonshine, I ended up in one of the most notorious nightclubs in South-east Asia. I ordered two vodka drinks to get my free singlet, turned around to hand one of them to my female companion, discovered she had disappeared. I sculled both, then ordered a beer and tried to find everyone else. When I found them, Gangnam Style began, leading every Korean in the club storming the dancefloor. By the time that finished, I was starting to feel sober, maudlin and out of place, and departed soon after.
Adrian's Got The Moose 
You should really write a book, Adrian. You are a very talented writer, especially vignettes like this…
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